It’s a new year. The secular culture invites that shift in number to signal an occasion for introspection, an invitation for improvement.

I find that even if one does engage in retrospection and pledges to improve oneself (again!), the calendar’s full daily and weekly demands quickly overtake the impulses to do better.

Often, too, the beginning of a new year means a new plan goes into effect, or a new fiscal year begins. At Beit Tikvah, there are indeed some new initiatives, including shifting how we communicate with each other about our programs, events, meetings and services.

However, the calendar doesn’t necessarily have a page, or a date, for marking or appreciating what just happens.

In fact, some of the calendars I use just segue right into this month’s page, which, in addition to being called “January 2005,” holds the months of Tevet and Shevat (or Shvat, or Sh’vat; so glad we don’t have to spell last month’s holiday for a while!!) 5765.

But when, and how, do we examine where we stand? On an ongoing basis, of course, the board sets policies; the committees work up budgets, plan events, and generate ideas. The life of the congregation doesn’t shift radically just because we need to change our desk calendars.

So: what changes, and what doesn’t, for us? The question about examining where we stand brings to mind a phrase from the book of Genesis that we hear on Rosh Hashanah, that other new year we celebrate. It’s from the passage when Hagar is facing the death of her son Ishmael following their banishment to the desert. Guided by a heavenly voice, she is told that God has heard the boy’s voice ba’asher hu sham, where he is.

Ba’asher hu sham is “Jewish” for being aware of, seeing, integrating, and then celebrating where we are. In Torah talk, God’s voice wasn’t just directing Hagar to see literally, but to see, to know in a deeper place that there would be sustenance, that they would both be nourished, physically as well as spiritually, if they would only open their eyes.

The passage goes on to say that God was with the boy as he grew. Even as we change, as individuals, and as a community, we integrate the insights, and treasure the gifts, of the past. As we welcome new members, try new initiatives, experience new teachers, and learn new things, we celebrate what enables us to do all that we can, and share all that we have.

We’ve been given some gifts recently that deserve some acknowledgement. Some are “things;” some are tasks accomplished; some are tasks undertaken and just begun. And this is, of necessity, truly just a short list, representing countless hours that so many contribute to this community.

We thank:

Murray “Ev” Decker, for an extraordinary original oil painting, brought as a gift to the congregation one Friday night, and unveiled to those gathered for our oneg Shabbat. Look out for it hanging in the lobby during our services;

Harriet Rivlin, for creating yet another lovely piece of fabric art that will hang on the rear of our “cross cover,” and for taking on the editing of our new hard-copy newsletter, just as we shift into our new communications mode;

Brian Berele, for building an enclosed storage space in the rear of the kitchen, and to Bonnie Cohen and Sylvia Greene, for perpetually keeping us stocked and prepared;

Loren Weiss Selig, for augmenting our supply of instruments with a jolly box of things that bang, ring and squeak!

As I hope you all can imagine, were I to keep going, virtually the entire congregation would need to be named, along with friends of the community who participate regularly, and bring us their gifts as well.

We are a very lucky and "rich" community, not just in the typical ways of a shul, but in ways that connect to the heart, and to what is truly valuable. I thank all of you who give me, and each other, the opportunity to do, give, create, and connect, year ‘round.