what's been growing among us

Words this week from Rabbi Lizzie:

Each morning for the past two weeks, my three-year-old, Shai, has proclaimed: “Mommy lives at the mikveh!” While I haven’t yet taken up residence, despite strong household evidence to the contrary, it’s true that I’ve spent a significant number of my days at the nearby mikveh accompanying the twelve participants in Kol Tzedek's inaugural Hineini cohort through their batei din and immersions as they completed the final steps of the conversion process. 

Being present for these rituals has, undoubtedly, been one of the greatest privileges of my rabbinate. I've had the honor of listening as they each shared their spiritual stories. I’ve witnessed the vulnerability and courage they offered before their batei din. And I’ve watched them emerge from the mikveh transformed and deeply themselves. Again and again, I've found myself in awe – of the commitment each of them has chosen to make, and of the ways these twelve individuals are shaping our community.

Since the first week of January, these students have studied, questioned, reflected, chevruta-ed, prayed, and wrestled. Much of this work has happened out of view of the wider community; but this week, I’m inviting us to recognize what has been growing among us.

There’s a verse (Numbers 17:23) from Parshat Korach that I haven’t been able to get out of my head. In the aftermath of Korach's rebellion, the Torah offers a striking image of renewal when Aaron’s staff blossoms overnight:

וַיְהִ֣י מִֽמׇּחֳרָ֗ת וַיָּבֹ֤א מֹשֶׁה֙ אֶל־אֹ֣הֶל הָעֵד֔וּת וְהִנֵּ֛ה פָּרַ֥ח מַטֵּֽה־אַהֲרֹ֖ן לְבֵ֣ית לֵוִ֑י וַיֹּ֤צֵֽא פֶ֙רַח֙ וַיָּ֣צֵֽץ צִ֔יץ וַיִּגְמֹ֖ל שְׁקֵדִֽים׃ 

The next day, Moses entered the Tent of the Pact, and there the staff of Aaron of the house of Levi had sprouted: it had brought forth sprouts, produced blossoms, and it had ripened almonds.

The Rabbis, in Pesachim 54a, imagine that this staff wasn’t merely a sign that appeared in that moment, but something with a deeper origin:

תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: עֲשָׂרָה דְּבָרִים נִבְרְאוּ בְּעֶרֶב שַׁבָּת בֵּין הַשְּׁמָשׁוֹת, וְאֵלּוּ הֵן: בְּאֵר, וּמָן, וְקֶשֶׁת, הַכְּתָב, וְהַמַּכְתֵּב, וְהַלּוּחוֹת, קִבְרוֹ שֶׁל מֹשֶׁה, וּמְעָרָה שֶׁעָמַד בָּהּ מֹשֶׁה וְאֵלִיָּהוּ, פְּתִיחַת פִּי הָאָתוֹן, וּפְתִיחַת פִּי הָאָרֶץ לִבְלוֹעַ אֶת הָרְשָׁעִים. וְיֵשׁ אוֹמְרִים: אַף מַקְלוֹ שֶׁל אַהֲרֹן שְׁקֵדֶיהָ וּפְרָחֶיהָ

The Sages taught: Ten phenomena were created on Shabbat eve during twilight, and they were: Miriam’s well, and manna, and the rainbow, writing, and the writing instrument, and the tablets, the grave of Moses, and the cave in which Moses and Elijah stood, the opening of the mouth of Balaam’s donkey, and the opening of the mouth of the earth to swallow the wicked in the time of Korah. And some say that even Aaron’s staff was created then with its almonds and its blossoms. 

In this telling, the flowering is not just a miracle, it’s embedded in creation from the beginning. So much of what I have experienced with these twelve students has felt similar – their journeys more continuous than a single moment of change. And, each of them, already so deeply embedded in the fabric of Jewish tradition and community.

As we sing in Lecha Dodi, “Sof ma’aseh b’machshava techilah” – the seed of this blossoming moment was planted long ago.

They have cooked hesed meals, acted in our Purim shpil, sang in Yiddish Fiddler, traveled on retreat, offered divrei Torah, hosted Shabbat dinners, and showed up in classrooms, kitchens, and gatherings across our community. And they will continue to teach us, challenge us, lead us, and help us dream up the Jewish future we are all living into.