Rabbi Alison Adler

Let’s begin with a story. Or two.             Once upon a time, a young man went to his rabbi and said: “Rabbi, you know I’ve been a pious Jew all my life. But something has changed. When I was a child, I felt very close to God.   But now that I’m older, it seems as if God has left me. I go about my daily business, I say my prayers, but I no longer feel God near me.”               The rabbi smiled, as though he’d heard the problem stated many times before. “You may be certain God has not left you, my friend,” he answered kindly. “When you teach a child to walk, at first you stand very close.   The child can take just one step, so you must catch him.   But as he grows, you move farther and farther away, so that he can walk to you. God has not abandoned you. Like a good parent, God has moved farther away, but is still close by, waiting for you.   Now...

If you’re a parent, or a grandparent, you probably know that Beverly got a wonderful gift this summer:   a new playground at the Dane Street Beach. It was built thanks to the efforts of Rich and Josie Marino, in memory of their young daughter, Bella. Shortly after the playground opened, I had the pleasure of standing with a group of parents as we watched our children climb and swing and spin and do all of the other things kids do on a playground. Of course, as a parent, it makes you feel so happy, to see your children play that way, with nothing to worry them or make them afraid. We want our kids to be able to play in this innocent way; and as parents we also have to try to anticipate anything that might threaten them.             So as we watched our children playing on that beautiful summer day, someone brought up the issue of “stranger danger.” When do you start warning your kids about strangers? And how best to do it? ...

Shannah tovah, good morning.   It’s wonderful to look out this morning at all of you in this full sanctuary on this holiest of days. And such a full sanctuary reminds me of a story I heard not long ago. It seems a Jewish woman was lying in bed on a Saturday morning. Her husband gave her a shake and said, “Come on, now, honey, it’s time to get up!   We’ve got to go to synagogue.” “UGH!,” she replied, “I don’t want to go to synagogue. I don’t like synagogue” “You don’t like synagogue? What don’t you like about it?” “Where to start? I don’t like the services. And I really don’t like the sermons. And besides,” she sniffed, “that congregation – nobody likes me . No matter how hard I try to be friendly, they just don’t like me. So I’m not going. Why should I? Give me one good reason why I should?” Well, her husband crossed his arms over his chest and looked sternly down at her. “I’ll give you three good reasons,” he said. “First, God expects and requires a Jew to go...