adira

Our whole community changed when Brad and Sarah came. Our synagogue spent two grueling years searching for an assistant rabbi. When Brad came to town it was as if we let out our collective breath. We had found our rabbi, a perfect beshert for our community.

The first thing that I noticed was that Brad was heart-breakingly young. When I was a little girl I had a young pediatrician that my mom used to call the 12 year old doctor. This was the 12 year old rabbi. He seemed kind but nervous. His insights into Torah were as fresh as he was. They took my breath away, they still do. He is the kind of person that everyone likes immediately. Nonthreatening but quietly brilliant. Deeply spiritual without being annoying. Wonderful with the children in a way that is never condescending. All of this I noticed later though. Because the second thing that struck me about Brad was Sarah.

Sarah and Brad told the story at tot Shabbat together when they came for that first interview. He was nervous, she was not. She was immediately at home surrounded by children. Her voice was clear, appealing, beautiful. On their first Shabbat here she sat down next to Mira at Shabbat Kids and showed her the page numbers, pointed out the Hebrew words. Sarah came and found me with Eli at tot Shabbat and told me that Mira was doing great. How did she know who I was? That I was Mira's mother and that I was worried about her alone at Shabbat kids for the first time? Mira asked me later if Sarah was the new rabbi. She was disappointed when I told her that she wasn't. It is impossible to have a conversation with Sarah without revealing a part of yourself.

We, as a congregation, are madly in love with Brad and Sarah. When they first arrived I was desperately worried about them. Please don't destroy him, don't destroy them I silently begged my community. And so far we haven't. Is it possible for a congregation not to destroy the soul of it's rabbi? I think it may be. I can feel us all making an effort not to. Phil has not been destroyed. He is battered and bruised but remains intact. Still, I hope there are fewer bruises in store for Brad.

Just as I was starting to relax a bit, yes we can do it, we are bigger than our worst inclinations as Jews, they had Adira. Saving Brad and Sarah is one thing. I can do it, I know I can if I just hold my breath hard enough. But now they have a child. They have a rabbi's daughter. She is gorgeous, like a tiny version of the best of Brad and Sarah and an ad for babyhood. They are crazy about their new daughter. They obsess over what she eats and long for a good night sleep. They dress her up mini sailor suits and teeny Persian dresses. While I am busy holding my breath the three of them are fine. They are going to do it. They are going to keep themselves intact for her sake. She is a blessing. If I ever write my book about rabbi's children and what becomes of us it is for Adira. She and her parents are teaching me about hope.