Annual Meeting Remarks - Surviving

[Adapted from remarks that evening]

When I said that the last third of this synagogue year was like Survivor, I was only half kidding. The metaphor holds up. The show still airs because it asks some deeply human questions: when do we act in self-interest, and when do we choose collaboration? When do we protect our own needs, and when do we take risks for the good of the larger group?

These are not just reality-TV questions. They are community questions. They are synagogue questions. Every Jewish community wrestles with them: when do we turn inward, and when do we stick our necks out? Where should resources be allocated? What stances do we take on hard topics? And perhaps most importantly, how do we continue creating spaces where people feel connected to one another in a world that so often pulls people apart?

Well, we begin with building a calendar of meaningful events that help us celebrate, mourn, and grow together. On my end, one of the year's highlights was the Yesh Tikva Challah Bake in the fall, where we filled this room with folks of all ages baking challah and opening our hearts to taboo topics that affect our lives. There was also the largest Sukkot BBQ ever on record at WCT, a testament to our community’s willingness to take the Jewish calendar up on its opportunities to bring people together.

And then there was the first-ever Women’s Retreat, which was an astounding success. We had over 65 women registered, ranging from those in their late 20’s to their 80’s. We created art, drummed, and benefitted two social action initiatives. As the day went on, I was moved by how different groups were formed and how women who had never met connected. I feel our community has been brought closer to one another as a result.

As a synagogue, we must recognize what a genuine success it is to serve as a catalyst for bringing people together in the hyper-polarized world of 2026. Think about how counter-cultural that is right now! In a world undergoing constant mitosis, we at Woodlands are in the business of bringing together broken hearts, connecting families and communities, and pursuing peace in the world.

Broadly speaking, I’d say many people — Jewish and not — feel like they’re “just surviving” everything daily life and the world are throwing at them. When I think about “survival,” the word usually evokes a haggard image: someone or something at the very end, hanging on to whatever little is left.

But that’s not really the Jewish concept of survival—whether of a person or of a community. In Jewish terms, survival is about endurance and determination. It is disciplined engagement with life as it comes.

The Talmud (Yevamot 121a) relays a story:

Rabban Gamliel said: Once I was traveling on a boat, and from a distance I saw a boat that shattered and sank. I was grieved over the apparent death of the Torah scholar who was on board. Who was it? Rabbi Akiva. But when I disembarked onto dry land, he came, and sat, and deliberated Torah with me. I asked: Who saved you from the water? He said to me: A plank from the boat came to me. As each wave came toward me, I bent my head into the wave so it would not wash me off. Eventually I reached the shore.

In another teaching, Rabbi Akiva said: Once I was traveling on a boat, and I saw a boat sinking at sea, and I was grieved over the apparent death of the Torah scholar who was on board. Who was it? My student, Rabbi Meir. But when I disembarked, Meir came, sat, and deliberated Torah with me. I said to him: My son, who saved you from the water? He said to me: One wave carried me to another, and that wave to another, until I reached the shore, and a wave cast me up onto dry land.

Jewish survival—individual and collective—is about moving with and through the waves rather than being spared from them. The wisdom that comes from learning to navigate the waves becomes the source of strength.

It is also significant that Gamliel and Akiva were contemporaries, moving through the same turbulent waters together. Meir, Akiva’s student, reflects how the story of one generation’s survival becomes the foundation—and sometimes the lifeline—for the next. We cannot promise smooth waters, but we can give the next generation the benefit of our experience.

Woodlands Community Temple is entering its 60th year. We have the privilege of reaching our 60th decade because, as a community, we have met each wave, each challenge, with discipline, determination, and care. Whether it has been social upheaval, financial pressure, antisemitism, or even our own internal politics, we have endured these 60 years. We have not survived by waiting for miracles or by closing our eyes to reality. Rather, we have faced each challenge by putting our heads down, riding the waves with hope, resolve, and compassionate hearts.

This year, our community named at least 10 babies—10 new souls who represent the ongoing life of our community and of the Jewish people. On their account, and on account of all the meaningful work we have done and will continue to do, we are able to declare: Am Yisrael Chai—the Jewish people survive! “Chai,” of course, also means life. Survival is not simply holding on; it is active, engaged living.

May Woodlands continue to be a place where Am Yisrael Chai is not only proclaimed, but embodied—where Jewish people and their loved ones live full, meaningful lives, in our own homes and as a community. May our 60th birthday celebration be a marker of our survival, a testament to vibrant Jewish life, deep community, and enduring hope. Amen.