Retirement Weekend Rabbi Dr Andrew Goldstein 5 - 6 September 2008 5-6 Elul 5768

I can count on the fingers of one hand the times I have repeated verbatim a sermon, though I suspect the congregants of Temple David in Perth will get a few recent High Holyday sermons a second time around, however on my last Shabbat in Northwood I must break the home rule.  The orders are: give the same sermon to both Friday and Saturday congregations lest one group or the other feel short-changed. 

As most of you know I grew up and went to school in Birmingham. A boy’s grammar school was not the setting to engender a love of poetry.  The only poems I can recall are “the boy stood on the burning deck…” but the continuation only in the bawdy schoolboy parody of the real thing.  The second was “The Ancient Mariner”, though I soon came to hate it as it was often given as a punishment for childish behaviour:  “write out the Ancient Mariner 10 times”.  No wonder my writing became for ever after impaired.  But then in the Upper Sixth I got a part in a verse play by Christopher Fry, “A Sleep of Prisoners” and this became the event that led me to become a rabbi.   Founder members will know that early on I moved on to Dylan Thomas though, despite trying, I never quite got the voice of Richard Burton whose rendering is to me, almost as sacred as the Book of Jeremiah, my next inspiration.  Then it was Danny Siegel with a bit of Peter Paul and Mary and the other Dylan, Bob, in the background:  shows what a lowbrow I’ve always been.

With such a confession it is curious that I came to chair an editorial committee for Siddur Lev Chadash and become co-editor of Machzor Ruach Chadashah our two current Liberal prayerbooks.  And together with Rabbi Dr Charles Middleburgh, I collected a vast amount of poetry and prose to include in the creative parts of the books. And out of the left over material we have compiled an anthology we hope soon to have published, and the publisher is interested in another two books, so my post retirement nights will not be as restful as Sharon hoped. .

 I suppose somewhere along the way I matured and also discovered Yehudah Amichai, and I wish to share with you a short poem of his I will put in another of my proposed anthologies: “Jews and Railways”  :

                                                A Man’s Soul
                                                A man’s soul is like
                                                A train schedule
                                                A precise and detailed schedule
                                                Of trains that will never run again.

Not sure about the soul, though I can confirm the Jewish belief that we have freewill and deny the concept of predestination, even if my son likes the word beshert, though its tempting to say it after an event that seemed to fit into a certain pattern.  But I wonder who, 43 years ago would have predicted that I would not, some day, return to Birmingham as its rabbi (though I am going there next Shabbat to dedicate the foundation stone of their new shul).  That instead I’d end up travelling to other places, far and wide.   That I would visit an obscure town in communist Czechoslovakia before so many better known tourist destinations.  That, having never been as a boy to a Jewish summer school, I would, with Sharon end up founding and running Kadimah for 19 years.  In many ways the most satisfying weeks of my rabbinic career, that did run again, year after year, always on time.   And who knows where the spiritual highs will come, the stuff of the soul?  High Holydays it always was, and is and will be the setting for me….and so many of you, to get nearer to God, to satisfy your soul. And these did arrive on a detailed schedule and have been repeated year after year. But not only did I find God in Watford Town Hall, I have so many memories, experiences:  a high mountain pass between Fez and Marakkesh and many a setting on a Goldstein Tour.  The wooden synagogue in Pietra Naemt in Romania the shtetle field the next morning; half way up Mount Sinai one Shavuot, though Moses beat me to the top.  Standing outside, on a winter’s night in Oxfordshire, at one of our study weekends, making Havdalah under the stars.   I could go on:  just know how fortunate I have been, though maybe you make your luck; many a rabbi satisfied just staying at home every Shabbat of his or her life, I have had a restless streak and loved travelling, and this congregation never tried to tie me down; one of the reasons I never went back to Brum or career wise travelled on.  But I quote another favourite poet, Charles Reznikoff who said: “Not because of victories/I sing,/having none/but for the common sunshine/the breeze/the largess of spring./  Not for victory/but for the days work done/ as well as I was able:/not for a seat on the dais/but at the common table.”  (Te Deum) Its great to have exotic and extraordinary experiences, but lasting satisfaction comes only when it is the ordinary events that are repeated week after week that give you a buzz or give you intimations of God’s presence, of God’s approval.   Coming home after one of those special Shabbat morning services when only 25 worshippers turned up, but all there because they really wanted to be there. Teaching a good lesson at cheder.  Giving a sermon that seems to have made a difference to somebody’s thinking or feelings or religious belief.

Can we plan our life and know where it will go?  When I failed for the fifth time “O” level French, could I predict that one day I’d be Chairman of the European Region of the World Union for Progressive Judaism?  Lecturing and conducting meetings in France, Germany, Slovakia, but always in English.  Is there a cure for lack of linguistic ability or maybe it was laziness?  Had I mastered German and Ivrit and Czech, would I have travelled along other paths?  And who can predict when the special moments arrive, definitely not to a schedule.  Shaking hands with the Queen, who didn’t say much.  The King of Romania who said much more, his daughter the Princess most friendly.  The late Pope who spoke a wordless, memorable blessing.   Rabbi Feder who died the year I was ordained, though it would be another 19 years before I got to know him, inspired the second half of my rabbinate.  Did I know that an elderly Jew in Prague in darkest communist winter would tell me Moses Montefiore visited Kolin and so another twist to my tales and another project into the future.

Nothing came on schedule or was planned, as far as I know, but this I know: how fortunate I have been to pack so much into 43 years.  Amichai wrote in another poem: “A man in his life has no time to have/Time for everything/ Ecclesiastes was wrong to claim that.”  Well I think I’ve had time for more than most and am well satisfied.  And above all, more than all the journeys, there are the letters from congregants whose lives I thought I had hardly touched, thanking me for touching their lives.  The opportunity to occasionally help, teach, inspire, comfort, learn from so many people over the years is the greatest reward, the deepest sense of satisfaction that will linger longest.

How fortunate I have been to be the rabbi of this congregation for so very long.  How fortunate I was  that Rabbi Sidney Brichto, as Executive Director of ULPS, ensured I was assigned this fledgling congregation the moment I started my rabbinic training and has been my support ever since. How grateful I am for the years of support from Ingrid Squires and Judith Littman.  How many officers and members have made my work easy, too many to list; let the three at the end of the service (Alan Lewis, Richard Conradi, Brian Sass) stand for all the many others, and the three, plus Barbara Kohn who has organised this wonderful weekend, ably helped by Joel & Avril Witte, deserve my heartfelt thanks.  Amichai talked of trains that will never run again, but Northwood, how fortunate you are (& I am) to have Ruth continue to lead the choir as Sharon has led so much of the singing over the years.  And Aaron to take you to new and exciting destinations with Tammy at his side, ably supported by Hillel.  And finally, how very very fortunate I have been and you have been in having Sharon as my assistant rabbi: my wife and best friend, my support, my advisor (and not just on the ties to wear), my secretary, my organiser, my everything.  The focus this weekend is on me, but Sharon deserves equal billing and equal thanks, not just for what she has done for me, but for the congregation in so many ways.

But now its time for the train to move on, and Sharon and I thank God for the years that have past, and for the opportunities that await us in stations to come.

38 years ago I concluded my ordination sermon with a hope expressed by the last verse of the 23rd Psalm: “Ach tov v’chesed yirdefuni kol yemay chai’yai, v’shavti b’vayt Adonai l’orech yamin”  “Let goodness and mercy follow me all the days of my life that I dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”    That hope came to pass and I have surely known God’s blessing all these years.  Forgive me for being greedy and hope the blessing continues for many years to come, and may God bless this holy congregation, its rabbis and its members, with continued success and excitement, so that this is always  bayt Adonai – the House of the Eternal One, where both congregants and God feel always at home.