August 21, 2026

“Oh, I still have my mezuzah to put up.” Those were the words we heard from Zoe as we finished unpacking and setting up her dorm room this week. While I am pretty sure Debra knew about the mezuzah, I had no idea. Her roommate was bringing one too, and Zoe decided it would be better to hang it together. As I reflected on those words, I could not help but think that, of all the things we packed in the car (which was packed to the brim) as she goes off on her own, she included a mezuzah.

Packing for college includes clothes, a computer, art for the walls, school supplies, bedding, and more. Packing your soul for college is something different. Many years ago, there was a high school curriculum created for teenagers called “Packing for College.” The premise behind it was to help young people build their Jewish identities with all the right tools for college. Though today’s curriculum would likely look a bit different, the choice to bring a mezuzah is one that comes from a sense of connection to the Jewish people and Jewish values. As many of us will remember, the Hebrew letter shin that appears on the mezuzah stands for Shaddai—a name for God. Shin, dalet, yod are the three letters used to spell Shaddai, and the rabbis tell us it may be an acronym for the words shomer d’latot Yisrael—protector of the doors/gates of Israel. To put a mezuzah on her door is also an expression of a prayer that God’s protective wings will guard her on her journey.

If there is a Torah text we can look to for a comparison to leaving home, we might turn to Abraham, who was told, “Lech lecha, go forth from your native land, from your father’s house to the land I will show you.” In order to become who we are, we have to leave the places we know and are familiar with and go out and explore the world. A Hasidic commentary explains that the words lech lecha mean “go to yourself,” which might indicate that we look inward to discover our true selves. Such a commentary indicates a conundrum for understanding what it means to travel on such a journey. In order to find who you are, you have to bring something of yourself with you. When you depart on a journey, you may be open to the myriad possibilities you encounter on the way. If your soul is an empty vessel, you will not be rooted in anything of substance, and you might have the potential to flutter in the wind. If you carry your values with you, you are able to anchor yourself when the journey becomes rocky. It is those values that might indicate which direction you should walk.

When Abraham left his home in Haran, God promised him that he would be a blessing and that God would make his name great. That promise reflected Abraham’s fear that the journey would not be easy, but he would come out on top. When a young person goes off to college, we as parents can’t really make the same promise. We have to have faith that we’ve done all we can; we’ve taught them as much as we could; and we hope we can impart more wisdom. But the tools they have learned along the way will carry them forward. Instead of telling Zoe she would be great, we told her to go be great and that she could do it. When our young people go off on a journey, the power is within them to learn more, grow more, and make their own way. We might offer a word of wisdom and some support along the way, but the journey is theirs to make. So many of our young people are starting school this week or next, whether it is K–12 or college, and they are soaking in the tools and skills they need to navigate life. There are so many teachers who help them along the way, and that is such a critical role in their development. Whether the teacher guides them in kindergarten, 12th grade, or college, they become important mentors who are significant partners on the journey.

We go through countless journeys in our lives, with different stopping points along the way. There are often forks in the road requiring us to make critical decisions. Perhaps what we need along the way is not for God to promise that we will be great, but for us to promise ourselves that we will be great. When we make that promise to ourselves, it comes with a commitment that we will follow through. We will do all we can and put our best selves forward. This season reminds us that there are moments when that doesn’t always happen. We trip, we fall, we pick ourselves up again, and we give it another chance. As we continue to journey through the month of Elul, let us reflect on the moments when we have tripped and what we need to do to pick ourselves up and move forward.

To all our kids, grandkids, and teachers—go be great!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

August 14, 2026

My first associations with the Hebrew word toranut are from my years at Jewish summer camp. When my cabin had toranut, it was our responsibility on that day of the session to arrive early for meals and place all of the dishes, utensils, and serving trays at each table in the chadar ochel (dining hall). The Hebrew word toranut is usually translated as duty or service by rotation.

Earlier this week, we were joined by Anna Kislanski, CEO of the IMPJ, the Israeli Reform Movement. When she shared her story with us, she told us about her experience as a member of Kehillat Hashachar in the city of Even Yehuda, near Netanya. Her congregation holds its Friday night services in the local museum because they do not have a building. When it is her family’s turn for toranut, she and her family move the museum exhibits and set up the chairs and the bimah so they can pray. When services conclude, they put away the chairs and reset the exhibits. There is a sense of holiness to her toranut that I never associated with the word. Without every family taking its turn to support the sacred gathering of the congregation, the community could not meet, and the people could not create the connections they need.

Anna’s connection to Reform Jewish life in Israel began when she and her fiancé wanted to get married. They found Rabbi Meir Azari at Beit Daniel, the Reform congregation in Tel Aviv, who told them he could marry them, but it would not be recognized by the government. They would need to travel to Cyprus for a civil ceremony. They signed the paperwork on a lovely five-day vacation in Cyprus and turned it over to the government. Only then could Rabbi Azari officiate the wedding. Weddings in Israel are only recognized if they are performed by Orthodox rabbis.

When families want to celebrate a Bar Mitzvah and the mother of the child wants to kiss her son on the head after he reads Torah, she cannot do that in a place that does not support egalitarian prayer; Reform congregations create that sacred space. A Bat Mitzvah can happen in a Reform congregation, and a woman can say kaddish there.

The Israeli Reform Movement leads a gap year program for Israelis before they enlist in the army. This program, called Mechinah, prepares young people who have no connection to Reform Judaism for future leadership both in the army and beyond. Most recently, during the Iran war, this program shifted from Jaffa, where they did not have a shelter, to Dizengoff Center, where they created a safe space for many families in the lower levels of the garage. They facilitated a Passover seder and helped people with disabilities in Israel.

When Anna was first hired by the IMPJ, she had just returned from four years working for the URJ in NY. Rabbi Gilad Kariv, who was leading the Movement at the time, told her she was in charge of congregations. He noticed that there were 850 Reform congregations in the United States. When Anna was hired in 2010, there were 25. Today, there are 55. Israelis typically understand synagogues as Orthodox synagogues, and those synagogues get money, property, and buildings from the State. Reform congregations should, but don’t always. These communities need support as they begin. They meet in schools, museums, municipal buildings, and other places. Their rabbis travel all over the country to serve the people in these new and emerging communities. The Israeli Reform Movement ensures that Reform Jewish values are brought to life in Israel. They are working to create a society grounded in egalitarianism. As I shared with those who gathered with us on Wednesday evening, if we want to see these values come to life in Israel, we need to support them.

Because Israelis are accustomed to the State providing funding to synagogues, and because that does not happen in the same way or at the same level of funding for Reform congregations, the Israeli Reform Movement relies on donations to sustain its work. I hope you will consider joining me in making a donation to the IMPJ to ensure that Reform Jewish values can come to life and thrive in Israel.

To learn more about the work of the IMPJ and to donate, please visit their website.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

August 7, 2026

Rabbi Akiva was one of the greatest rabbis in the Talmud. His journey to reach such acclaim was quite different from those of his colleagues. In modern discourse, we might call Rabbi Akiva a “second career” rabbi. He began his life as a shepherd working for Kalba Savua. After marrying Kalba Savua’s daughter, Rachel, Akiva arrived at the study of Torah at the age of forty.

In the rabbinic text Avot de-Rabbi Natan, we learn about his beginnings. The text teaches that Rabbi Akiva was forty years old but had not learned a thing. Once, he was standing at the mouth of a well, and he said, “Who carved this rock?” They said, “The water that consistently falls on it every day.” Then, quoting the Book of Job (14:19), they said, “Akiva, did you not read that water wears away stones?” Akiva then reasoned, “Just as the soft sculpts the hard, words of Torah, which are iron, will all the more so carve my heart, which is flesh and blood.” He then returned to Torah study (Avot de-Rabbi Natan 1:4). Rabbi Akiva’s lesson is that if something as soft as water has the potential to carve stone, then the Torah, which is as durable as iron, has the potential to shape a human being.

To come to the gift of Torah study is like drinking from the pure waters of the well. Torah study shapes us, guides us, and draws us closer to our tradition and our people. Two of the most joyful hours of my week are the hour when I immerse myself in Torah study on Shabbat morning with our wonderful community—join us on Zoom every Shabbat morning from 9:00–10:00 a.m.—and the hour I spend engrossed in learning sacred texts with our Confirmation students in 10th grade. These two hours provide me with joy and the potential for “aha” moments when learners of all ages, including me, discover new insights about our tradition and how it applies to the world in which we live.

One of the beautiful aspects of Jewish learning is that we can come to it at any age. What we find when we knock on Torah’s door is an ocean of knowledge and connection that brings new insights to our lives. As we grow, those insights and that wisdom have the potential to become deeper and more nuanced. The more questions we bring, the more we are able to swim in the sea of Jewish learning.

Tonight, we celebrate the commitment of 13 individuals who have decided to embark on a personal journey of Jewish learning. There has been a fire in their hearts to mark their commitment to Jewish learning and the Jewish community as they become Adult B’nai Mitzvah! Last fall, this wonderful group of adult learners committed themselves to learning Hebrew and deepening their commitment to Jewish education. They spent Monday evenings learning together as a community. Rabbi Martin, Morissa, and I have enjoyed these hours of learning with them as well.

Their journey culminates this evening with an Adult B’nai Mitzvah ceremony in which they will each read from the Torah and share their journey with us. We know how challenging it can be to make such commitments as adults. Life’s winding pathways can bring many distractions, and committing to learning about our sacred texts, sacred times, and sacred places, as well as learning to read Hebrew, can present many challenges. I hope you will join us tonight as we celebrate with our Adult B’nai Mitzvah class. Perhaps these adult learners might spark your interest in pursuing your own pathway of learning. Let us all join in wishing them mazel tov!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner