Dear Friends,

I’m thrilled to be writing for our community’s newsletter for the first time.  My family and I have recently moved into town, and we are settling in. Thanks to the efforts made by the members of Temple Sinai’s transition committee, it’s been a smooth and pleasant experience.

Amidst the pains and challenges presented to us by the war in Israel, my family and I were blessed to have had the chance to say our farewells to our Galilean community in a most dignified and meaningful manner. I am grateful for the opportunity I had for being their rabbi for so many wonderful years.

No less so, I am looking forward in curious anticipation for the new chapter of our lives and of my rabbinic journey together with all of you at Temple Sinai, and I am certain that it will be no less meaningful and rewarding. 

As we are experiencing this transition this summer, and in light of what has been going on around us, I’d like to share with you some words of Torah.

Connecting to the Jewish tradition allows us to tap into ancient veins of wisdom that have been passed down to us from times of antiquity. Often, the roots of these traditions can be traced back to the pre-Judaic era.

An example of this is Tammuz - the Hebrew name of the summer month, roughly corresponding to July. Tammuz was the Sumerian God of Fertility, a masculine deity who was also worshipped by the Babylonians and Assyrians.

Unlike the lush and green summers of upstate New York, the summer season in the Middle East is a time when nature withers under the intense heat of the sun. Accordingly, the God Tammuz would die each year at the start of the summer season, while his spouse, the Goddess Inanna, would descend to the underworld to rescue and resurrect him. Thus, he would return to life with the arrival of the first autumn rains.

This ancient myth conveys a message about the cyclical and dynamic nature of life. It reflects not only the cycles of nature but also the transient nature of human existence: what flourishes and blooms eventually fades, making space for new growth and prosperity.

By retaining the name Tammuz for the early summer month, (and despite their rejection of polytheism), the ancient Hebrews preserved a spiritual and holistic view of the cycles of life and death, of withering and rehabilitation, symbolized by the shifting seasons.

In this context, it is intriguing to note that, according to Jewish tradition, the month of Tammuz serves as a reminder of yet another tale of profound change: the tragic destruction of the temple in Jerusalem.

On the seventeenth day of Tammuz, a date still observed through fasting and lamentation by many, the Babylonian army breached the walls of Jerusalem, foreshadowing the temple's eventual ruin three weeks later, on the ninth of Av.

Despite the traumatic nature of these events, the destruction of the temple heralded a new chapter in Jewish history, ushering in fresh perspectives for the Jewish people: animal sacrifices gave way to prayer and Torah study, corrupt priests were succeeded by courageous and innovative rabbinic scholars, and a once-landlocked culture adapted to thrive in communities dispersed across the globe.

Just like the ancient myth of Tammuz’s annual death and rebirth, our history teaches us that even when the walls of our civilization are broken and the security of our camp is breached, we eventually find new ways to continue our legacy. Amidst a changing and uncertain reality, we remember that our resilience as a people lies not in fearing change, but in embracing it, adapting to it, and in moving forward.

May the approaching summer season bring gentle and healing winds of change to our community, our people, and all of humanity.