October 31, 2025

Home.

Community.

Resilience.

Life.

It is difficult to find the words to capture these last three days on the JewishColumbus Israel mission. Traveling with our Beth Tikvah family and the larger JewishColumbus community has been incredible. We are the largest mission to travel to Israel since October 7^th with over 190 people. As I walked through the neighborhoods of Tel Aviv last evening, I saw a vibrant market, a kids’ Halloween party, trick-or-treaters, packed restaurants and bars. Tel Aviv has the vibrancy that it has always had.

Of the 190, 45 were first-timers, and only a few had been since October 7. You instantly feel at home. Where else in the world could you visit and be thanked for coming. Our opening dinner was prepared by celebrity chefs; one stood to speak and he thanked us for “coming to my home” and then he immediately corrected himself and said, “our home.” You feel an instant connection to the land and the people. They are our family.

When we arrived at Rickenbacker Airport on Monday afternoon to board our chartered ElAl flight, many of us saw old friends and began connecting to new ones. The JewishColumbus staff and volunteer committee have been planning this trip for the last 18 months. Their vision was to bring us together and connect us to Israel. After a long night’s sleep, we learned about Columbus’ direct connection to the Ein HaBasur Moshav in the Eshkol region.  Sivan Shefer’s parents made Aliyah from Columbus, OH to the Western Negev region of Israel more than 50 years ago. Their grandson Dudi was murdered on October 7 at the Nova festival. Sivan had a vision: to create a farm called Dialog for Life in memory of her nephew, Dudi. This farm specializes in healing the trauma endured by the residents of the region, IDF soldiers, and Nova survivors using the Human-Animal Dialogue method. JewishColumbus is the Founding Partner, helping to establish this incredibly impactful place. As we planted trees, made ceramic kalanit, and helped build this sacred place, we recognize that our community extends far beyond Central Ohio.

I am continually amazed by the Israeli people: the residents of Kibbutz Alumim who defended their Kibbutz on October 7^th. The residents of Kfar Azza, another Kibbutz I visited in May of 2024, promise to rebuild in the next two years. The Nova site has changed so much in the last 18 months. The memorials where laminated paper was on display have been replaced by permanent metal placards that share the stories of the victims. As I have immersed myself in these stories over the last two years, some of the names are becoming more familiar. To remember just one name keeps their memory alive. To have met family members of victims and learned their child’s story helps us personalize the connections in a more meaningful way when we see their names. I recall the feeling I had the first time I was at Nova. It was as if my soul had been sucked out of my body. That emptiness was only matched when I walked the grounds of Auschwitz. Perhaps one of the lessons of Jewish sovereignty is our ability to not only remember and build memorials but to know and share the name of every person who was murdered.

We woke up in Tel Aviv, ran and cycled on the beach, watched the sunset, and saw and felt that Israel is still a vibrant place. Yes, the trauma of October 7^th is still trapped in the souls of every Israeli, but so is the hope. It is the hope to be a free people in our own land. Together, with our family—the Jewish people, we share in the dream for our collective future. It is the dream that our ancestors shared when they wept by the waters of Babylon after the destruction of the first Temple. It is the dream that directed our hearts towards Jerusalem for centuries. It is the dream that Herzl and others after him turned into a reality. That dream is kept alive by every Israeli and Jewish soul. Each and every day, another stone is laid that hearkens back to our history and looks toward the future.

As Shabbat begins in Jerusalem and Columbus this evening, we nurture that dream through our prayers.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

October 24, 2025

I was recently discussing the concept of Jewish prayer as it relates to theology with our Confirmation class. One aspect of prayer that we discussed was offering a blessing of gratitude for moments we encounter in our lives. Of course, the students were familiar with blessings such as the Motzi (thanking God for bringing forth bread from the earth) or Kiddush (blessing over the wine). They were unfamiliar, however, with the blessing over the rainbow. In fact, they were quite surprised to hear that there was a specific blessing for seeing a rainbow.

Every time a rainbow appears in the sky, it is met with much excitement. People run to see it. Perhaps the best word to describe what people are feeling is awe. In his book “Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life,” Dacher Keltner defines awe as, “the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your current understanding of the world.” He adds that awe is about our relation to the mysteries of life. In moments where we behold the rainbow, we don’t typically think about how the sunlight is refracted through the raindrops. We do not try to make sense of what we experienced; we stand in awe of its beauty trying to soak it all in.

When we behold the rainbow, does our mind take us to the story of Noah? Are we aware that there is a special Jewish blessing that can make such a moment both Jewish and holy? Our rabbis teach us that the blessing for the rainbow is:

.בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יהוה, אֱלוֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, זוֹכֵר הַבְּרִית וְנֶאֱמָן בִּבְרִיתוֹ וְקַיָּם בְּמַאֲמָרוֹ 

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam zocheir habrit v’neeman bivrito, v’kayam b’ma-amaro.

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, sovereign of the universe, who remembers and is faithful to the covenant and keeps the promise [made to humanity].

The Jewish connection to the rainbow comes from this week’s Torah portion. We learn that this connection is a sign of the covenant established between Noah and God. God promised not to destroy the world again and humanity promised to care for the earth and one another. The Talmud imagines that in a time of perfectly righteous people, there are no rainbows. so then, is it our hope that we should no longer see a rainbow? Rabbi Shlomo Riskin suggests in modern terms that since the rainbow is a half-circle, it means that human beings have a certain responsibility to become partners with God to care for the earth. 

Taking a moment to recite the blessing upon seeing a rainbow (or the blessing for eating certain foods or encountering other aspects of wonder) has numerous purposes:

1. It elevates the moment.
2. It ties us into aspects of Jewish history or our textual tradition that have been studied for thousands of years.
3. The blessing reminds us of the lessons we learn from the stories they are tied to.
4. Taking a moment to say a blessing is a Jewish act that forges a connection between Jewish joy and pride.

If you are interested in learning about more blessings in the Jewish tradition, you may want to consider downloading the “Daily Blessings (CCAR)” app in your app store.

In the months ahead we will be offering a “How-to” email each month which can help bring some guidance and insight into certain Jewish practices ranging from holidays to Jewish ritual life. We hope these emails will serve as a reference for you and may even open doors that spark your curiosity. Having a deeper knowledge of our tradition empowers us and enriches the ways in which we practice Judaism and live Jewishly.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

October 17, 2025

This past week has been an emotional roller coaster. It began with great joy as the 20 living hostages returned home to their families. That joy was met with the heights of dancing and with Torah scrolls as we celebrated Simchat Torah. With the ebb and flow of emotions, those feelings of joy were matched by pain as we began to learn about the ways in which the hostages were tortured during their time in captivity. From not bathing, to minimal food, to being chained for months, we cannot imagine their pain. Our hearts are also broken for the families of the 19 deceased hostages whose remains have not yet been returned. It is our hope and prayer that they will be returned home as soon as possible. These families cannot truly begin the grieving process until they are home.

During the period of captivity, there is a song that has become an anthem for Israelis. In Hebrew, it is called “HaBaytah, coming home.” The song, written by Ehud Manor and made famous by Yardena Arazi, was inspired by the pain of the 1982 Lebanon War. After performing for the soldiers, Arazi told Manor of her experiences, and he wrote the song, calling for a return home. As Lior Zaltzman wrote this week for Kveller, it also calls for a return to a place of ideals and democratic values.

The lyrics express deep hopes and longing for the return of everyone in despair. This is the translation of the lyrics:

Another year has passed, another year of madness, the weeds have grown in the path and the garden. The wind sighed opening the shutter and banging the old wall, as if calling: Back home, back home, it’s time to return from the mountains from foreign fields. The day is fading and there is no sign. Back home, back home, before the light is dimmed. Cold nights, bitter nights, closing in now. Until the dawn I pray for you, bound in the grip of fear I hear steps. Back home, back home, because it hasn’t yet been given as was promised a long time ago.

HaBayta was performed in a concert in December of 2023 with 1,000 Israel musicians and the sentiments continue to linger on our souls.

To mark this time of despair, we have added the ritual of praying for the return of the hostages to our Shabbat services by singing of the Acheinu. Adding this prayer has helped remind us that we are connected to the larger Jewish people; it has kept our focus on the hostages. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches us that “ritual turns us from lonely individuals into members of the people of the covenant.” His words remind us that we have a collective obligation to one another as a people and to the lofty partnership we share with God.

It feels like there has been a shift, and perhaps that shift demands the creation of a new ritual. We are in the process of discussing what that could look like and over the next several weeks, we may try several different rituals to see what fits. In this moment, it is important for us to take the lead of the Hostages and Missing Families Forum. They are reminding us that their world is incomplete.

Some have chosen to take off their yellow ribbons and Bring Them Home Now dog tag chains. I am continuing to wear mine because the hostages are not all home. And the question remains: what shall we do? This week, our Shabbat table that has been set for the hostages will hold 19 yellow flowers as a reminder that this color symbolizes the hostages. We will offer a prayer for the brokenness that the families of the unreturned hostages are feeling, but we will not sing Acheinu. (There is debate as to whether this should be said only for living hostages. As we study more, we may decide to add it back). Next week, we will offer a different ritual to replace the flowers and our sign.

We have also been singing Hatikvah each week since the war began. As we consider changes, we will be looking at adding different options of prayers for the State of Israel which would be traditionally said in the synagogue. These past two years have carried so much pain and have taught us many lessons. Among the most important lessons is our connection to the Jewish people and the critical need for the existence of the State of Israel.

In these moments of continued pain, we pray for the return of the remains of the hostages still in Gaza so that their families and the Jewish people can grieve and begin the path toward healing.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner