Ann Arbor Reconstructionist Congregation

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Creativity Kavanah (Rosh Hashanah 2025)

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By Kathryn and Seth Kopald 

Kathryn’s paragraph 

Rav Gav asked Seth and I to share how the power of creativity shows up in our lives and how it has allowed us to step into the fullness of life. 

For me, art making has become a sacred practice, and it’s been especially important during the past year which has had its share of challenges, sorrow, and pain. It is a place for me to connect, shift my perceptions, and know myself better. Engaging in the creative process, using my hands, quieting my mind is a sanctuary that I return to again and again. It allows me to step into my power, and be more fully present in the world. 

Seth’s paragraph 

Creativity is a life force that carries wisdom, potential, and hope. Creativity is not only expressed through making art, or making anything; it’s also a way of thinking and being. I like to use my creativity while woodworking, art making, playing music, writing, and more. It’s a place where I don’t follow other people’s rules, unless I choose to. 

Mitchell Widharma, a friend who was deported this year, just posted this on FB, “Be weird, do art”. To me, he’s an example of holding your power. 

Next, Kathryn and I will read a poem that we co-created. We each wrote ideas that were important to us on strips of paper, and we moved them around on the kitchen table until this poem emerged. We hope it’s meaningful to you. 

Creativity is the expression 
of Aliveness 
We are driven to 
moved by 
examples of 
pure expression 

It is nourishing to the very core 
Of who we are 
Connecting and reconnecting 
To the Divine within 

Creativity is 
Free Will 
My hands 
move 
with 
Divine Sovereignty 
I create for me 

It’s the why 
The purpose 
The heart 
Of all I seek to do 
And become 

Creativity is Freedom 
You cannot control my connection 
to the Divine flow 
There’s no right or wrong 
endless possibilities 
In this moment 
I AM 
Eyeh Asher Eyeh 

It’s unstoppable 
Its public expression 
can be controlled 
Its private expression 
CANNOT 

2
Creativity 
is one of the innate 
powers of all humans 
And it's one of the first 
to be squelched 
But the Pilot Light of Creativity 
can never be extinguished 
We need to give ourselves permission 
to turn on the gas 

As we create 
we are in a state 
of transference 
Ideas transferring 
out of our bodies 
Hands 
Mind 
and spirit 
Engaged 
Bringing hope 
when the world 
feels hopeless 

Creativity 
a force that moves 
through me 
A higher power 
who doesn’t 
follow 
human rules 

Connecting me deeply and fully 
to my own inner wisdom 

Creativity 
will live 
with or without me 
I pick it up 
or someone else will 

To make change 
when change is needed 
To make sense of 
what doesn’t make sense 

3
To feel into sadness and loss 
and see 
the beauty 
in feeling those things 

To release 
what was given to me 
what I didn’t ask for 
and 
what no longer serves me. 
To cultivate joy 
when joy cannot be found 

The way 
to tap into 
creativity 
is to be fully present 
in the moment 
where the fullness of life 
resides 

To be here 
in this moment 
present when the world 
feels darkest 
To be a light 
and point the way

Shedding of Skin (Yom Kippur 2025)

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By Seth Kopald

This is the year of the Snake in Chinese astrology, the wood snake actually. The Chinese Lunar New Year began January 29th, two days after my mother died. The year of the snake is a time of personal growth, transformation, and adaptability. 

I’m curious what comes up for you when I say it’s the year of the snake. Many of us fear snakes and think they are somehow evil or malicious. I’ve always felt they got a bad rap. I think snakes are love, like any other animal. They are animals trying to survive like the rest of us. In Shamanism, related to the four directions, the snake resides in the South and guides us to shed and clear limiting beliefs. We all have seen the medical symbol of snakes coiled around a winged staff. The snake represents healing. 

Upon hearing that this is the year of the snake, I thought to myself, perhaps this is an opportunity to shed my skin and to step into a new level of being, and this year, the snake has been knocking on my door. 

For instance, I invited Rav Gav to say blessings with our family at my mothers bedside, a few days before she died. We all gathered around my mother as she moved about in a dreamlike state. I looked down and saw Rav Gav was wearing a snake bracelet, and it fit the moment as 

she explained how we were cleansing and elevating my mother’s soul. I was like, “Ok Shaman Rabbi.” 

My mom was the root of much of my suffering in life. Her own suffering made her unavailable and even vicious at times. I truly never had the mom I needed and deserved. And during Ravs ceremony, she said we were offering my mother forgiveness and forgiveness for ourselves. Everyone in the family felt what happened there, and when days later my mother died, something in me released. The preparation for shedding my skin had begun. 

Prior to my mother’s rapid decline, I started my own forgiveness process. I read a forgiveness prayer for 32 days, as instructed. I learned in that time that forgiveness is not forgetting, or making it somehow ok that someone hurt you. It’s about releasing the charge of it all. It was the charge that caused me to hurt myself through anger, resentment, and even spite. Letting all that energy go, allowed me to stand next to my mother’s dying body and hold her hand. 

Since then, this year has been a year of healing. So much so, I started to outgrow my skin. I joined many healing circles and practices, and last June I went to Oregon and gave some of my grief to the Pacific Ocean. I don’t think you need to do all that to shed old skin, but for me, it was necessary. 

Snake has followed me throughout all of this. Of course there was Rav Gav’s bracelet. When I was in Oregon I went to a Tibetan shop and bought a few things and when I got home, I found

an earring at the bottom of the bag. It was a golden snake. And just last month while I was at my cranial sacral appointment I noticed my practitioner had a new tattoo on her arm. Can you guess? A snake. I see snake imagery everywhere. Over the last month it felt like my old skin started to flake off bit by bit and just a few weeks ago, while at authentic movement I laid on the ground and wiggled my body out of my old skin. 

So what does it mean to shed your skin? Is it Tshuvah? Returning to Self? This answer came through: in Tshuvah we are shedding old versions of ourselves that block access to our light, to our soul, to our essence, to our true Self. It feels like expansion because we release what doesn’t serve us, and there is more room for me, more room for you, to shine our natural light. When we release the negative thoughts about ourselves and our negative thoughts about others: we forgive and we can expand. 

Our skin holds our current belief system of who we are. If we think we are small, our skin stays small. So, if you feel comfortable doing so, please repeat after me: 

○ I am not what my thoughts tell me I am 

○ I am not what others have said I am 

○ I am not what I assume people think I am 

When we realize this, we start to expand, and our skin begins to notice. Then, it’s time to start to shed. 

Our false beliefs about ourselves and others, our hiding, our protection, our fighting, usually come from drops of bad experiences – over and over – filling our bucket with burdens. And luckily, healing can happen drop by drop too, at your pace. As you continue to empty that bucket, there’s more room for you, and as you emerge, your skin will be ready and will naturally shed. And perhaps, on this Yom Kippur – we can start by stepping into forgiveness. 

Thus, I would like to read The Forgiveness Prayer I mentioned above for all of us. So feel free to take this in if desired. 

If there is anyone or anything that has hurt me in the past, knowingly or unknowingly, I forgive and release it. 

If I have hurt anyone or anything in the past, knowingly or unknowingly, I forgive and release it. 

If I have hurt myself in the past knowingly or unknowingly, I forgive and release it.

Source: Akashic Records Consultants International (ARCI) 

May you Return to Your Self and have a healthy and easeful year. 

Shanah Tovah

AARC Members Support Struggling Nicaraguan Jewish Community

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By Steve Merritt

A handful of AARC members, responding to a post I put on ReconChat, stepped up to help the small, struggling Jewish community in Nicaragua rebuild. They gave me cash to purchase items as well as some Jewish objects, including family heirlooms. Their donations made up about a third of the almost 100 pounds of Jewish books and ritual objects that I was able to deliver to two fledgling Jewish groups when I went to Nicaragua in July.

Beth Israel and the Jewish Federation also provided support for this project. I have been going to Nicaragua since 2011, when I founded a literacy organization called CREA (creanicaragua.org) with expat friends. I have always been curious about the signs of Jewish presence I see wherever I go in Latin America. In fact, some historians trace that presence as far back as Columbus’s voyage in 1492, which coincided with the expulsion of the Jews from Spain.

I found the Jewish community in Nicaragua through Kulanu (kulanu.org), an organization whose mission is to “support isolated, emerging, and returning Jewish communities around the globe.”

A little history… At its peak in 1972, Nicaragua’s Jewish community was estimated at 250. The Jews were mostly farmers, manufacturers and retailers, and even owned the two largest department stores in the capital of Managua. They were prosperous. But when an earthquake decimated Managua in 1972, followed by the Sandinista’s socialist revolution in 1979, most of the Jews fled the country.

A small number stayed. They were later joined by about 140 converts, including many who claimed Jewish ancestry. Eventually, a contingent of Jewish American retirees joined the mix, attracted by the lower cost of living and fleeing the northern winter. Though the Jewish community had been slowly rebuilding, early in planning my visit I learned that they had recently suffered a major setback. The Congregacion Israelita de Nicaragua used to meet in the hotel owned by its president, Kurt Preiss. But when Preiss died in 2022, unbeknownst to the congregation, his widow sold all the Jewish items, including their Torah, to pay off his medical bills. The community was left with almost nothing.

It was into this context that I was able to deliver two suitcases of Jewish supplies on July 31. They were packed with siddurim, a two-volume Shulchan Aruch, Chumashim, Psalms, Pirkei Avot, tallitot, seder plates, kippot, and an assortment of candle sticks, kiddush cups, seder plates, and Shabbat and Hanukah candles. And even a shofar! (More on that below.)

One of the Nicaraguan Jewish groups that I met with is led by an earnest couple in their forties, Keren Yojebed, a medical doctor, and her husband Meir, COO of a business. Sensitive to the political situation, they requested that only their Hebrew first names be used to identify them.

Keren Yojebed, pictured with her husband Meir. They are holding items donated by Idelle Hammond-Sass.

“We are a small community affected by so many limitations and economic problems,” Keren said in a thank-you letter to donors. “This makes it hard for us to count on having things like these that are so dear.”

She continues, “For our community, these resources are much more than objects: they are symbols of connection, identity, hope and continuity.” Because there are so few Jews in Nicaragua, Keren says their goal is to “unite all Jews regardless of their denomination, whether Orthodox, Conservative or Reform.” Their group of about 30 members, which they’ve recently named “Beit Shalom,” dreams of having its own building and Torah.

The shofar provided a special moment. Somewhat incongruously, surrounded by lush jungle, Meir blew the shofar… and he was immediately answered by a chorus of dogs! He had learned to play the instrument from YouTube. Listen here.

Meir blows the shofar, a call to the Jews of Nicaragua.

The second Jewish group is led by Alfonso “Chaim” Fried, a retired lawyer. He is the son of a Hungarian Holocaust survivor. Clearly proud of his Jewish heritage, he did not hesitate to have his full name appear in print or online. Chaim’s group of about 90 members is Orthodox with Hasidic elements. His face shone as he examined the donated items.

Alfonso “Chaim” Fried. Also pictured are his wife Jeaneth and Steve Merritt (right).

The two couples estimated that there are at most 300 Jews in the whole country of Nicaragua. Life in Nicaragua is not easy. It is the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere after Haiti, and its political situation presents difficulties. After spending time with them, I was struck that they would choose the additional challenge of being Jewish. And I was struck by the sincerity and intensity of their desire to maintain their Jewish identities and communities.

A special thank you to the AARC members who contributed to this project: Nancy Meadow, Janet Kelman, Neal Persky, Debra Gombert, Idelle Hammond-Sass, and Claudia Kraus-Piper. Former Ann Arborite Ed Kass, who has been visiting for the summer, also contributed.

I want to also acknowledge Martha Kransdorf, who played an important role in this project. She made the connection that resulted in the involvement of Beth Israel. Another contact of hers led me to the Latin American Rabbinical Seminary in Buenos Aires, which hopefully can be involved in supporting these two small congregations in the future.

What’s next? One possibility I floated with Keren and Meir would be a visit by a group of American Jews for a Passover seder in Nicaragua next year. Stay tuned!

Note: Jacob Schneyer, who grew up in the AARC and is the son of Debbie Field and Mark Schneyer, contacted me to see if I would be interested in 50 used Sim Shalom prayer books his havurah in Chicago was replacing. Because I was looking for Hebrew-Spanish prayer books, I put Jacob in touch with the folks at Kulanu to find out if one of the communities they support could use Hebrew-English books. It turns out the prayer books will be going to a Jewish community in Uganda!

The Mitzvah Committee and the Value of Community

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By Debbie Field

As summer fades and the high holidays approach, we have an opportunity for
introspection, both individually and communally. How do we create a community where
everyone is included? How do we manage our differences, which seem particularly
acute in this historical moment?

Rabbi Jill Jacobs has written about the importance of community in Judaism and Sefaria offers some wonderful Talmudic teachings on Kehillah (community). Personally, I am convinced that simple mitzvot are the key to maintaining our ties to one another. Many congregants have told me how helpful it is to receive a meal or a ride or a phone call in times of need. When my father died, I felt very supported when the community crowded into our house for a shiva, brought food, and cleaned up. I have also cherished the chance to connect with community members by bringing them a meal.

Tara Cohen, Stephanie Rowden, and I make up the current committee, and we are
working to organize these efforts. Please fill out the Mitzvah Committee Survey, which allows you to let us know which mitzvot you wish to participate in to support your fellow congregants. Completing the survey does not commit you to anything, it simply allows us to include you in future requests.

Thanks to everyone who has already filled out the survey and offered help during this
past year; each friendly phone call or pot of soup helps create a bond that holds our
community together.

Please fill out here: Mitzvah Committee Survey

It’s Shabbat – come meditate

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Words by Anita Rubin-Meiller

In my first week of the Flourish course, a meditation teacher’s training offered by
the Institute of Jewish Spirituality, we were given a text by R. Shalom Noach
Berezovsky. R. Berezovsky identified Shabbat as an ark that enables us to find
refuge from the flood of chaos and overwhelm in the weekday world. He
states…”the deficiency of the generation of the Flood was in its scattered da’at
(awareness, mindfulness) which is the root of all harm…” He suggests we repair
such scattering of da’at through Yishuv hada’at (a settling, calming, centering of
mind). Without this, we are lost, unable to be truly connected to ourselves, or to
the Creator, who “renews our very being from moment to moment.”

Calming, Centering, Connecting through meditation has deep roots in Jewish
practice and is written about by many sages past and present. It is a practice that
is at once simple but difficult, in that it requires compassionate patience with
oneself and the ramblings of our minds that seem determined on scattering our
attention. It is a practice that has increasing benefits over time.

I was first exposed to meditation in a Jewish context in 2019 when I was blessed
to attend a 6-day silent retreat with Rabbi Jeff Roth, Rabbi Sheila Pelz-Weinberg,
Buddhist teacher Sylvia Boorstein, and Zen priest Norman Fischer. Since then, I
have been meditating multiple times a week with Rabbi Roth’s Awakened Heart
Community. While meditation doesn’t necessarily change who you are, it does
impact how much you accept and love yourself as your critical mind calms, as
compassion heightens, as your attention to each moment deepens.

There are many approaches to meditation- from sitting with attention on the
breath; to mentally reciting a word or phrase; to following a guided script that
offers an intention and imagery. Each approach offers the opportunity to bring
your attention inward, to notice what arises in mind, body and heart moment to
moment without getting caught up in it, to perhaps find that precious still point
and rest there for a moment.

I am pleased to be able to offer an opportunity for our community to gather
together to practice for 20 minutes of meditation on the second Saturday of the
month before services. Check the Tuesday mailer for exact times and location.
I hope to see you there.

On Continuity of Care

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Young Jewish children sit at tables in the childcare center at the Joodsche Schouwburg in the Amsterdam Jewish quarter, 1942. Source: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of Hilde Jacobsthal Goldberg

Over the past week, I have processed the election results both privately and in community. I was especially grateful for our Second Saturday Shabbat Service, where I could connect with our community and be held by the sounds of our liturgy. As I parse through my feelings, my worries and fears always come back to the children in my life.

I spend my weekdays in the Duck Room at the JCC, a toddler classroom of 13 brilliant and beautiful souls. I feel so honored to be trusted with their care, to see them forming words and learning how to use their bodies. More than anything, I treasure the deep, loving, trusting connections I have built with them and their families. 

When the Ducks were dropped off last Wednesday, I exchanged quiet looks of sadness, anger, and fear with their parents. A few of them said they wished they could just stay home and be with their kids. I certainly hugged them extra tight throughout the day.

Although it was a sad day for many of the adults, it was business as usual for the toddlers. Their routines and rituals are what keep their world round. I was, and am, grateful to the presence that these children require. They keep me much too busy to allow my mind to wander to matters of dread and despair. 

My thoughts have also been with our class of Beit Sefer students in this time. Their relentless energy, curiosity, wit, talent, stubbornness, and playfulness give me hope and solace. 

We will be staging a mock Kabbalat Shabbat this Sunday, using ritual objects made and decorated by the students, and led by Rav Gavrielle. When the future is unknowable, I hope the practice and passing down of traditions may help us feel rooted in safety and security.

Finally, I think of my niece, at almost three months old, and what the world has in store for her. There are infinite paths of fear and doubt that I could go down. Thankfully, however, there are just as many of strength and perseverance. 

In grieving and in growing, as we stand on this precipice, I come back to the priestly blessing we sing at the end of services. May all of the children in our communities, both near and far, know safety, health, courage, and ease.

Re-Rolling the Torah Together

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Words by Keith Kurz

The Ann Arbor Reconstructionist Congregation met with the Hebrew Day School’s third grade.

In preparation for Rosh Hashanah the Torah needed to be re-rolled from nearly the end to nearly the beginning. Deb Kraus led the third grade class in a prayer for doing the mitzvah.

The students asked good questions and sang songs during the re-rolling. Intermittently Deb stopped the rolling of the Torah to point out many items, including the beginning of each book, the 10 Commandments, the Shima and the place where Avram changed his name to Avraham and Sarai to Sarah. Noah learned to re-roll the Torah and perform hagbah.The Hebrew Day School hopes to have more activities with AARC.

Welcome Back, Dieve Family!

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We are excited to see Mark, Stacy, Bass & Sappho Dieve back in Ann Arbor from their three year stint in Switzerland. They left in June 2021 just after Bass’ Bar Mitzvah and just as our congregation restarted meeting together outside for services. 

Both Stacy and Mark kept up a steady stream of stories of their Swiss adventures on Facebook that included trying to find challah, chocolate gelt and matzah. They particularly missed decent Mexican food. Along the way, they made some significant friendships from local purveyors of cheese, bread, coffee and wine as well as their neighbors and French teacher. 

The Dieve’s made their way to Switzerland for Stacy’s job as a Strategic Trade Manager for Cisco while Mark continued his work remotely as a certified herbalist and consultant, check his work out at rootedhealth.com. 

They are excited to get back to their home in Ann Arbor and to return to the Jewish community in real life. When you see Bass, ask him about his job and his interest in theater. Sappho is eager to get back to art and learn to play the guitar. 

Besides filling up on library books in English and as much guacamole, salsa and tortilla chips as they could eat since returning stateside, Stacy says “we are so happy to be home and very glad to have our Jewish community again.”  

Join us in welcoming the Dieve family back to town – do provide them with suggestions of new places to try Mexican food, find decent bread and coffee shops that might provide them with a little European experience. Stacy added, “We already miss being able to walk out of our apartment to the local boulangerie and buvette – the Swiss version of lakeside cafe. But mostly it is the people who make the place – and so we are excited to reconnect with all of our friends at AARC” 

Paddling Together through the Fog

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Words by Adrianne Neff

“Ships are safe in harbor, but that ain’t what ships are for” 

–from Harbor by Carsie Blanton

Emily asked me to write about an experience that I shared in services this past Friday. On July 13, I rowed in the Blackburn Challenge, a 20-mile race around Cape Ann, Massachusetts. I’ve been training for this event for almost 2 years, going from being barely able to get in my boat to doing long solo open-water crossings. Usually I relish being out on the water alone, and I have a wonderful time. But sometimes when I’m alone and far from land, I do get scared. At first I found this fear paralyzing, and in order to move through it, I developed a practice of singing out loud as I rowed. Anything rhythmic and simple will do: I sing sea shanties, bim bam melodies, Jewish folk songs, Hindu chants. I sing badly, but the seagulls never seem to mind. 

I didn’t anticipate being alone or afraid during the race: there were 150 other boats participating, and I knew I’d always be in sight of land. The forecast was for rain showers, gusty winds, and patchy fog. The first part of the course was challenging, but I was making good progress and having fun. Midway through the race the weather shifted, and all of a sudden we were enveloped in thick fog. I couldn’t see the shore, the horizon, or a single other boat. The fog was completely disorienting, and the lack of stationary landmarks to focus on made me violently seasick. I lost all sense of direction, and I became convinced that my navigation tablet was malfunctioning. My subjective sense of direction was very strong but completely wrong; had I followed it, I might still be rowing across the Atlantic. I was as scared as I’ve ever been, panicking, flailing at the water with my oars. I was realistically afraid of being hit by a motorboat in the fog, but also filled with irrational fears such as capsizing and being attacked by sharks. (My boat is very stable and wouldn’t capsize even in much higher seas. And though there were probably a few sharks around, they certainly weren’t going to attack my boat.) As I tried to calm myself, I remembered how I’d learned to deal with unreasoning fear by vocalizing, so I cast around for something to sing. What came to mind was something I’d never sung before while rowing, but that has become much beloved to me from recent Fourth Friday services:

May I be safe

May I be strong

May I be courageous

May my life be at ease

May you be safe

May you be strong

May you be courageous

May your life be at ease

May we be safe

May we be strong

May we be courageous

May our lives be at ease*

At first haltingly, then strongly, I sang this to myself. I sang it again, this time “May we be safe,” and as I sang, I felt the support and power of our community with me out on the water. My heart stopped hammering, my panic eased, and my rowing steadied. I was still sick and scared, but I rowed on through the fog and the bobbing lobster buoys, no longer paralyzed. I finally reached the safety of Gloucester Harbor, finishing the race in 5 hours and 48 minutes, the longest and hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m proud of myself for persevering, and so grateful to my congregation for being with me.

*This song is a version of a Loving Kindness meditation, also known as Metta meditation in Buddhist traditions. There are many variations, and I’m not sure if what I sang was exactly what we sing in services or just what I needed at the moment. I tried to learn more about this powerful practice, and I found many pieces written about it. Here’s one I liked by Jon Kabat-Zinn: https://www.mindful.org/this-loving-kindness-meditation-is-a-radical-act-of-love/, and another by Rabbi Jill Zimmerman that includes a video of a lovely version sung by Elana Arian: https://ravjill.com/lovingkindness-practice/.

Passing the finish line buoy in Gloucester Harbor, photo by Samuel Lurie

Rowing on another misty (but not scary) day on the Huron River, photo by Pam Shore

Reflections on Liberty

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As I donned my red, white, and blue and clothing yesterday morning for the ECC’s Independence Day picnic, I couldn’t help but wonder what my ancestors might think of me today.

Carrie Bradshaw references aside, I am now a little over one month into my new position at the AARC. As I have been showered with welcome and congratulations, I have also begun to consider what I think of me.

This past weekend, my mom’s family gathered to commemorate my Grandpa Burt’s 20th yahrzeit. While visiting his gravesite, I felt a magic and electricity as my mom and uncles shared memories of their father.

This aliveness I feel always seems to come about in such moments of profound connection and remembering. The same feeling I get from reading memoirs of women like Mary Antin or Letty Cottin Pogrebin. Jewish American women, each from different generations than my own, and all of us with different, yet parallel experiences of our Americas.

Mary Antin’s The Promised Land provides the perspective of a young girl immigrating to late 1890s New York who must reconcile two greatly different worlds. Antin was also a contemporary of Emma Lazarus, a Jewish poet whose words adorn the Statue of Liberty.

Cottin Pogrebin’s, Deborah, Golda, and Me on the other hand, illustrates the author’s reckoning with the patriarchal aspects of her Jewish American upbringing through the lens of second wave feminism.

There are many things that tether these women’s stories to my own and to those of our congregation. We all have our own unique experiences and perspectives of what it means to be Jewish in America, and this can bring up a host of feelings, particularly around the 4th of July.

I consider myself fortunate to be a part of a community in which we, especially non-men, are free and encouraged to participate and think deeply and critically about all aspects of our tradition.

Politics and parades aside, I feel proud of the Jewish American life that I am making, and hope my ancestors, both near and distant, feel similarly.

Whether you are lighting fireworks this year or simply enjoying some rest, let us not forget those who came before us, and what they might think.