Categories
CCAR Convention Rabbinic Reflections

Hope, Clarity, and Purpose: CCAR Chief Executive Rabbi Hara Person’s 2025 Convention Address

The 136th annual Convention of the Central Conference of American Rabbis was held March 23-26, 2025, in downtown Chicago, where over 450 Reform rabbis gathered in person and online. Here, we share CCAR Chief Executive Rabbi Hara Person’s moving address acknowledging the incredible work of Reform rabbis, the blessing of leading the Jewish people, and the importance of finding clarity and purpose in these challenging times.


Watch the video, or read the address below.

Welcome to the first ever CCAR Asefah! After decades of calling this the CCAR Business Session, this is now the Asefah. Why? Because we listened to colleagues, who told us that the term “business session” didn’t properly convey what we did here. As The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon reminds us, the root asaf is related to gathering, to being gathered, and to harvesting. And indeed, more than just “business,” this session is our annual gathering—the annual harvesting of the work of the CCAR. 

This week’s parashah, P’kudei, coincidentally the same Convention parashah as last year’s, speaks about the whole and the parts. There is the mishkan, that miraculous construction of artistry and faith, made up so very many parts. And there are the sacred vestments, also made up of different parts: the breastpiece with its stones representing the totality of Israel, the rings of gold, and the chains, and the cords, and the ephod.

The CCAR too is made up of the whole and parts. I’ve found it interesting to hear people talk about the CCAR as some abstract, amorphous organism that operates on its own free will. Actually, the CCAR is you, and me, the board, and the amazing staff we have in this room and elsewhere. We are all part of how and why the CCAR operates. You, the members, give us, the staff, our purpose and reason to exist, and I hope that the staff and I give you tools and resources to achieve your purpose, along with the chevrah and sense of community that strengthens you to do your sacred work. We, together, are the CCAR.

Of course the work of the CCAR is not just the staff, but also the board, and all the many, many volunteers who give their time and ideas to keep all the work going, and all of you who support the work of the CCAR in so many, many ways. Thank you to all the chairs and members, too many to mention, and forgive me for not mentioning every name, or we’d be here all day—thank you to all of you who roll up your sleeves and do the work of our committees and task forces and working groups, thank you to all who give what you can of your resources, your time, your ideas—you are the engine that drives the CCAR. Thank you to the board, both the outgoing and the incoming, whose level of commitment and partnership is so extraordinarily high.

And two exceptional people. Rabbi Erica Asch: I don’t think she realized what she was getting into when she became president, but wow did she jump in with both feet. I am going to miss you so much, but luckily you’re still on the board for two more years as our immediate past president. In these two years of her presidency, we have been through so much together—some of the usual work of the board, and some highly unusual. In this time, Rabbi Erica has become a trusted friend and advisor. I have learned so much from her and have tremendous admiration for how she approaches problem-solving and thinks through the hard stuff with clarity and integrity. Thank you, thank you.

And Rabbi David Lyon, I’m so very excited to be working closely with you the next two years. There’s a lot to do, and I am glad that we’ll be doing it together. If these last few weeks, even these last few days, are any indication, I know we’re going to learn a lot together, do important work for the CCAR, challenge each other in all the best ways, and have fun doing it. Thank you for stepping up, and thanks in advance for all the ways I’m going to grow under your leadership, and the CCAR is going to grow.

Like the biblical mishkan, the CCAR is complex, and multifaceted, made of many parts, and many people each playing their important part, each bringing the best that is in them to make a strong and beautiful whole. So it is for each beautiful element of the mishkan and of the sacred vestments—each one of those dazzling fabrics and stones serves a purpose and matters—and so it is for us as rabbis. What you do matters, and I want to thank you for all the ways you carry your individual leadership. Teaching Torah, leading prayer, bringing comfort, opening doors, moving chairs, raising money, writing, protesting, managing budgets, committee work, coalition building—the elevated and the quotidian—it is not all glamorous, but it is important and necessary. In the words of Marge Piercy [i]:

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

Thank you for everything you do as rabbis, in all the ways you do it, the work of mala and mata.

There is a flip side though to all of that breathtaking beauty of the mishkan and the priestly garments described in this parashah. Those vestments must have been quite a load to bear. I’m imagining the weight of the layers of linen, the gold, and all the stones, the ruby and the emerald and the turquoise, all of those bright and beautiful but substantial stones on the priests’ shoulders and backs, weighing them down with responsibility and mission.

As the inheritors of these communal leadership roles, we continue to carry the load of these sacred garments. It has been quite a few years of extremely heavy burdens on us. We thought things were challenging before. And suddenly the landscape is even tougher.

If these vestments of leadership imbue us with strength and power, to what end? Do these vestments transmit awe and authority, or might they sometimes also become a form of constraints, keeping us always conscious of the role we play vis-à-vis those we serve? These vestments may identify us as the bearer of special status and power, but they can also be bindings that restrict us.  

In an uncertain and ever-roiling world, it’s so important that we articulate our own clarity of purpose. Where do we remain quiet for the sake of sh’lom bayit within our community, or even within our homes, and where do we speak out? On what are we willing to take a risk? Where do the stakes feel so high that we must speak out, even if there are consequences, and where are stakes so high that we cannot speak out? 

We rabbis are teachers, preachers, healers, pastors, thought leaders, organizational leaders, strategists, innovators, challengers of the status quo. The responsibility of leadership that we carry can be a burden, but it doesn’t have to be so heavy if we can identify our mission. That sense of purpose can guide us and give us strength, remind us where we’re trying to go and why.

Identifying a personal mission is a process of discernment that can be ongoing, but today, I want to share four elements of my mission at this moment with you.

First, I am here to serve you: to hear your needs and your ideas, to think about what you need today, and envision what you might need tomorrow. This often means pivoting as needs change—and, it does not always mean saying yes, but it does mean listening and considering.

What it does mean is hearing you, helping you out with challenges, me or others on the CCAR staff. It has meant figuring out immediate needs in times of natural disasters, global pandemics, and wars. It means, just as some examples, offering webinars on antisemitism, offering Shekels, our fundraising seminar, and a multi-session course on facilitating difficult conversations. It means starting a series for rabbis going into retirement or a support group for those coping with despair. It has meant working with our partner organizations to engage in the work we should be doing together—the URJ, the ACC, ARJE, and more. It means taking a group of rabbis to Israel every year to connect with our MARAM colleagues and to stay current with the reality on the ground.

Second, I am here to serve the future of the rabbinate. How can I be strategic about what we will need tomorrow? With whom should I be in conversation? What do we need to put in place today in order to be ready for tomorrow? How can we think practically to prepare for tomorrow, and how can we dream about what might be possible? That means policy changes in the office of career services, like a new policy requiring search committees to engage in anti-bias training, or in our admissions policy as we expand our CCAR ranks to include more rabbis ordained from other seminaries—many of whom are already serving Reform congregations—and creating a group to help with emeritus/successor challenges. It means working with the ACC to create the Small Congregation Clergy Collab to serve small congregations no longer being served by students, and working with the URJ to reimagine the Gold Book. It means expanding our Mishkan T’filah family of offerings to include a new Friday night service booklet and a Spanish supplementary version, both currently in the works. And it means going big and creating the Torah commentary for the 21st century, a project that is creative and generative and will be an incredible gift for the future. 

Third, it means reconciling with our past in order to pave the way for a better tomorrow. That has meant creating an ethics department, accepting accountability for the past, engaging in the difficult, ongoing work on our ethics code and system, and continuing to update our system. It means recognizing the pain of our history in regard to the acceptance and inclusion of LGBTQ+ colleagues. It means being committed to apologizing for the past while also believing in an organization and a rabbinate that can continually learn and do better.

And ultimately, fourth, is about mustering courage and heeding the still, small voice within, pushing me to speak out for justice and our values. There is much in this broken world of ours that calls to me. Of those, I must discern, which I will speak out on publicly. Part of this role is knowing when to be quiet. But part of it is also deciding when to speak out.

I wasn’t always so concerned about the peril of speaking out, but today there can be real risks in speaking out—personally, professionally, organizationally. And, I may disappoint you, or I may anger you—either because we did speak out on something or because we did not. That is going to happen. We cannot do everything, say everything, respond to everything, nor should we.

In these challenging days I am buoyed by being in conversations with other faith groups and alliances, united in our concerns for the future of shared ideals and values. (Sidebar note: I want to apologize to the Canadians here—well, I want to apologize to you regardless, but right now this is going to sound very American-centric. And to the Israelis and Europeans, again, apologies.)

The February 2025 lawsuit that we joined with twenty-six other faith groups against the Department of Homeland Security to protect the fundamental American principle of religious freedom and the sanctity of our places of worship, along with our partners from URJ and the Conservative and Reconstructionist Movements, and also many Christian groups, is one example of this coalition work. This is a time to come together around shared values. With so much at stake we can’t afford perfect partners.

But that is far from the only issue we need to be concerned about. There is a long list: bringing the hostages home, supporting transpeople, protecting immigrants, the slashing of the federal workforce, ceasefire with Gaza, democracy itself, the climate, reproductive rights, the future of medical research, deporting people without due process, the rise in antisemitism, it is a shockingly long, and still incomplete, list.

What rises to the surface for me in this moment, not because it matters more, but because it is perhaps more stealthy in its danger, is the weaponization of antisemitism. I don’t have to tell you that we are seeing antisemitism come to the fore in ways previously unimaginable. Hate speech, defacement of Jewish property and institutions, threats of physical harm, actual violence. The list goes on. You know about the number of synagogues experiencing bomb threats, which even when thankfully false, creates an atmosphere of fear and intimidation. How many of you have had to deal with damage to property? How many of you have received threats to your personal safety or that of your families? And of course there is the very real harassment and threats of danger to Jewish students on college campuses.

Categories
gender equality Social Justice

Creating Workplace Equity that Reflects Jewish Values

Rabbi Mary L. Zamore, executive director of the Women’s Rabbinic Network, reflects on ethical employment practices and offers a variety of resources to help Jewish workplaces achieve these standards.

In the Jewish community, many frequently describe our places of employment as having cultures like family. However, if we really want to honor the dedicated people who serve as the backbones of our institutions, we must develop the most professional and equitable employment policies and procedures possible. We must ensure equitable hiring, supervision, and promotion; we must create safe, respectful communities. This will honor not only our employees, but also our volunteers, members, and participants. In this manner, we will create cultures in which all can flourish.

For secular employees in the United States, the gender-based wage gap persists. According to a Pew Research Center report, it has barely narrowed in the past two decades. In 2022, American women typically earned 82 cents for every dollar earned by men; this ratio has remained almost the same since 2002, when women earned 80 cents to the dollar. The gap is much wider for women of color. For example, in 2022, Black women earned 70 percent as much as White men, and Hispanic women earned only 65 percent.

Unfortunately, the wage gap also persists in Reform Jewish congregations. The Reform Pay Equity Initiative (RPEI), a project of the seventeen organizations of the Reform Movement and led by Women of Reform Judaism (WRJ) and Women’s Rabbinic Network (WRN), gathers data from the five professional organizations of the Reform Movement. This aggregation reveals a gender-based wage gap consistent with secular data.

Professional and lay leaders in each Jewish workplace should examine the RPEI data in order to ascertain if their female-identified employees, as well as those of other protected identity groups, are treated fairly and equitably. The question is not just “do we pay our employees fairly?” but “how do we know for sure that we are creating equity in our workplaces and thus living up to our Jewish values?” This drive for equity also requires that hiring, supervision, and promotion are conducted in the most professional manner and result in unbiased employment practices.

To ensure equity in our Jewish workplaces, we must guarantee that all employees have access to paid family and medical leave. With federal laws failing to provide paid leave, the secular American workplace is an outlier among developing and developed countries. Although the situation is improving at the state level, religious institutions are exempt from these laws. Therefore, the moral imperative is on Jewish leaders to provide clearly communicated, robust paid leave for people of all genders who are growing their families or whose loved ones are experiencing medical challenges. WRN’s paid family leave resource provides accessible information and model language for employment contracts and employee handbooks. This free resource explains that every employee should receive twelve weeks of paid leave.

Finally, our congregations and institutions must be safe, harassment-free, respectful communities for employees and all who interact with these organizations in any capacity. Every congregation and institution should have an ethics policy, which is constantly broadcast to all who gather either virtually or in person. In addition, staff and board members must be trained in the procedures that support the policies. Admittedly, upholding good-quality ethics policies can be difficult. It may require standing up to individuals who otherwise are valued in our communities and letting them know that their harmful behavior will not be tolerated. It may even mean asking these productive perpetrators to leave our communities.[i] It is vital that boards and leaders plan and practice procedures and are prepared to act. The Union for Reform Judaism has a complete resource, as well as professionals and lay leaders, to help congregations study and write an ethics code. Sacred Spaces, an organization dedicated to preventing institutional abuse in the Jewish community, has created Keilim, an online, self-guided policy toolkit. In addition, the Central Conference of American Rabbis’ “The Clergy Monologues” and ARJE’s “The Educator Monologues,” with accompanying study guides (Clergy and Educator), are conversation-starting tools to reflect on gender bias in Jewish spaces.

When we describe our Jewish workplaces as “like family,” we unwittingly send the message that our synagogues and institutions do not need to uphold the highest professional standards for ethical employment as informed by our Jewish values and secular laws. As Reform Jews, we can apply our communal passion for egalitarianism and social justice to safeguard every Reform Movement employee and ensure their access to safe, harassment-free, respectful workplaces. Dedicating ourselves to this goal is the greatest way to honor and celebrate our workers this Labor Day.


Rabbi Mary L. Zamore is the executive director of the Women’s Rabbinic Network. She is the editor of The Sacred Table: Creating a Jewish Food Ethic and The Sacred Exchange: Creating a Jewish Money Ethic, both published by CCAR Press.


[i] Productive perpetrators are professional or lay people who contribute to our communities through time, talent, money, knowledge, or social capital. Yet they harm others through bullying or harassment. See Harassment-Free Jewish Spaces: Our Leaders Must Answer to a Higher Standard (RavBlog).

Categories
Rabbis

My Rabbinate at 50 years

The gift of being a Rabbi was not a conscious decision but rather a tender and loving commandment “This is what you will do!”  This “command” came from the unknown, yet illuminated depths of my soul.

My life was not to be in medicine, as I had previously thought, but to be a servant to my people, Israel.

The more I came to know myself,  the more compassion,empathy, honor and respect I had for those I was privileged to serve.  I chose to be an advocate for choice, acceptance and love; an enemy of rejection, authoritarianism and control.

My rabbinate was nurtured by my spiritual father, Ellis Rivkin who opened up worlds to me too numerous to mention; opening my soul to the supernal and material. His understanding of the dynamics of Jewish and human history as an ever changing balance between preservation, adaptation and mutation grounded in the Principle of Unity in Diversity was and remains the leitmotif of my career.

So, my rabbinate from ordination to now was to welcome the different,encourage diversity and encourage and embrace novelty. My commitment to Jewish tomorrows demanded of me to embrace what was repulsed and rejected for decades by our Jewish community.  Thankfully that is changing.

Serving Temple Sholom for 28 years was a gift filled with blessings and love.

But no blessing is greater than my wife, Ann.  Her love, nurture and support have sustained me to today. She is my life! Our children, grandchildren, and great grandsons keep our cup of life filled to the brim.

As I confront the ever present reality of mortality and discover other dimensions of my soul  now coming to light, I say with joy and gratitude my life has been a Shehecheyanu.

Rabbi Mayer Selekman serves as Rabbi Emeritus of Temple Sholom in Broomall, PA.  He is celebrating 50 years in the rabbinate.

Categories
Rabbis

Rabbi Philip Berkowitz – Reflections on 50 years in the Rabbinate

First and foremost, my emphasis in the rabbinate was pastoral. I was blessed to serve two congregations. One in Pontiac, Michigan and the second in the Township of Washington in New Jersey. Early in my tenure in Pontiac (in the 1960’s), I was asked to serve on the Police Trial Board. I was reassured that the need to meet was rare. The first summer we had meetings every evening. Two cases regarding police brutality. The first we found the accused innocent. The second case the officers were found guilty. All of this during civil unrest. On Kol Nidre Eve, Pontiac was under a city wide curfew.  We managed to hold services with the understanding the police not subject us to the curfew. As serviced ended, I asked everyone to go directly home. In event some wished to ride around town, I would not visit them in jail. Such was the tribulations of a young rabbi.

In 1975, we moved to New Jersey where I served Temple Beth Or in the Township of Washington. During my rabbinate there I became involved in helping the homeless. I  also had to deal with a NIMBY (not in my back yard) issue. Temple Beth Or responded to my call. The battle was with local towns to permit congregations to house the homeless. Those battles were also won. In the years that followed, I was elected president of the Inter-religious Fellowship for The Homeless. It was a first for a Jew in Bergen County.

One extraordinary event in New Jersey stands out in my mind. We planned a community program, which had such a large turn out we had to move to a larger location.  We invited Elie Wiesel z’l to address the community. I was honored to introduce him that evening. Prior to the program we sat in a second floor office. We decided to step outside the office a see what was going on. The auditorium was filled. There were hundreds of teenagers there. Many of the came over to greet me. They did not recognize our guest who was nearby.  Elie observed all of this and was impressed with the turnout of young people. He was outstanding that evening. He changed his topic, and spoke to the teenagers. He was at his very best and everyone was moved and inspired.

Looking back on these chapters, they are mild in comparison to events of 2016. I thought I accomplished a great deal, but there is more that must be done. During the span of my rabbinate I prayed from the The Union Prayer Book, Gates Of Prayer, and Mishkan T’filah. So much has changed. Would I conduct worship services today as in 1966? NO! Today I would use more Hebrew and encourage more music. I would recommend the use of live streaming. There is a need that cannot be ignored in order to meet the needs of an aging population.

In 2001 we found a retirement home on the beach in Kennebunk, Maine. We moved there in 2003, the day I retired. In 2004, I became a conductor and volunteer operator at The Seashore Trolley Museum. Shortly thereafter, a president of NAORRR called me and asked if I was alright. Did I have to work to survive financially?  The answer was all was well. I had learned to operate old street cars from all over the world.  I went on to become Assistant Superintendent of Railway operations, a Board trustee, and its vice chairman. Never did envision that kind of retirement.  I have now retired from the Railway, and enjoy life at the beach. From our porch we have seen our 41st president skydive twice, as well as his boat stranded on the sand in front of our home. Such is the joy of retirement that Nancy and I share in beautiful Maine. It is here that our children and our grandchildren join us to enjoy the pleasure of retirement and share the way life is in vacation land.

Rabbi Philip Berkowitz is Rabbi Emeritus of Temple Beth Or, Township of Washington, New Jersey.

Categories
Reform Judaism Social Justice

Beyond Colorful Socks and a New Outfit

“I like Rabbi Prosnit’s colorful socks,” said a congregant during last week’s synagogue program. This comment was a response to one of our panelist’s statements that whenever she wears the color pink or has a new outfit, a congregant usually remarks on her clothing, yet rarely do her male colleagues receive comments about their attire. She is absolutely right. Rarely does anyone say anything about my ties, shoes, or sweaters, though occasionally, I do get comments about my colorful socks.

Last week, our congregation organized a program titled The Sacred Calling: Four Decades of Women in the Rabbinate in anticipation of the release of the new book with the same title from the CCAR Press. We were privileged to welcome co-editor of the book, Rabbi Rebecca Einstein-Schorr, who facilitated a dialogue with three rabbis from our Temple community, Rabbis Ellen Lewis, Mary Zamore, and Sarah Smiley. The four rabbis took part in a candid conversation, sharing reflections about their education at HUC-JIR, the challenges they have faced as leaders of congregations, and the continued work that synagogues and our Movement need to undertake for women rabbis.

During the conversation, I discovered that the language on my smicha is different than my female colleagues. (Rabbi Mary Zamore has written an article about this in the forthcoming book.) My appreciation deepened for my Temple Emanu-El predecessors’ hard work to create a strong family leave policy at our congregation. I became more aware of the uncomfortable, funny, and challenging conversations that my colleagues have, and continue to have, because of their gender.

Yet, the biggest takeaway for me was the importance of this conversation for our congregants. For many in attendance, particularly our younger Temple members, they never knew the struggle that women rabbis had to go through to establish themselves in their careers. It was an eye-opening conversation as well as an opportunity for self-reflection for our congregants on how they may treat their rabbis differently depending on their gender. People were so drawn in by the stories from our rabbis that they did not want to leave.

I am extremely excited for the release of The Sacred Calling: Four Decades of Women in the Rabbinate and look forward to using the book in our adult education, confirmation, and b’nai mitzvah programs. This book will be a great tool to share the legacy and history of our first women rabbis and also a way to spark conversations with our congregants. I hope that our discussions will transcend colorful socks and a new outfit and will help to create a rabbinate that is fair and equitable for all.

Rabbi Ethan Prosnit serves Temple Emanu-El in Westfield, NJ.

To pre-order your copy of The Sacred Calling: Four Decades of Women in the Rabbinate visit our website.

Categories
spirituality

Spirituality in the Rabbinate

I was ordained in 2007, and accepted the position as the solo rabbi in a very small, extremely remote congregation in southeast Alabama.  My nearest colleague (Rabbi Elliot Stevens) is a two hour drive away.  Mine is the only synagogue in 100 mile radius, and we are located in the buckle of the Bible Belt where it is assumed if you walk and breathe, you must be a Christian.  My congregation is wonderful, and I have really enjoyed my 8 1/2 years here.

However, I should tell you that while I learned so much at HUC, I was not prepared spiritually at all.  We never talked about our relationships with God, we never prayed, except at services. Every meeting here in the south begins with a prayer, and I swear I was a deer in the headlights the first time I was asked to begin a meeting with a spontaneous prayer.

I think the lack of spiritual training hurts us and it hurts our congregations.  I have never once been asked to translate Talmud; in fact, most of my congregants only have a vague idea what Talmud is.  But when I do sermons or adult education on prayer or God, I am overwhelmed by the response. There is such a hunger among our congregants for a relationship with God, to learn about God and prayer.  And it is the area where I seem to have the least expertise.  Thank goodness for good books!

And I have so felt so empty spiritually myself so much of the time.  I cannot pray during services.  I have no cantor, so it is just me leading services and the music.  How can I do all that and focus on God?  It just doesn’t happen. I tried praying on my own using the prayer book.  That did not work at all.  And I am so busy because I am the only rabbi around.  It is truly a 24/7 job. Finding time to enhance my spirituality falls on the back burner.

I have been fortunate to be involved with a group of Christian clergy women, all seminary ordained. We meet once a month to study, or to let our hair down and complain about how the robes never fit right, or why dresses and slacks don’t have pockets to put your portable mike in, or most importantly to share serious problems we are having. There are many people down here who don’t think women should be leading a congregation, so we are a support group for each other.

I was surprised when I found out that all of the other clergy in my group are REQUIRED to have spiritual direction.  Required!!  The nun from the Catholic Church is REQUIRED to go to a spirituality retreat every year.  I wondered why we Reform Rabbis do not have anything like that.  I thought about it for a very long time, and finally approached one of the women ministers to ask about spiritual direction.  Of course, a Jewish spiritual director is out of the question here in Alabama, but I have a director who is Methodist. I have been seeing her once a month, driving two hours each way.  I’m slowly but surely getting my head straight and reestablishing the relationship I had with God before I started HUC.  I find it ironic that I lost the relationship I had with God which helped propel me into HUC while I was at HUC.  In any event, I look forward to seeing Lesley each month, and think I am becoming a better rabbi because of the explorations I am doing with her.

So I want to ask, why do we not have any training in this most important aspect of our rabbinate?  I took four required classes in Talmud, yet never talked to anyone about God, except theoretically as part of a Bible class or Philosophy.  I know now that the Institute for Jewish Spirituality does very good work in this field.  I am also aware that some inroads for spirituality training have been made on the LA and NY campuses of HUC, but I have not heard anything about Cincinnati.  And Rabbi Rex Perlmeter wrote a blog post around the High Holy Days about spirituality programs he is doing through the CCAR.  We are becoming more aware of the need to talk and teach about spirituality and our relationship with God.  I hope it continues and becomes an integral part of training for future rabbis.

Rabbi Lynne Goldsmith serves Temple Emanu-El of Dothan, Alabama

Categories
CCAR on the Road Israel

CCAR Start Up Israel Trip: Learn What Makes the Impossible Possible

Walking through the late afternoon in Maktesh Ramon, breathing in air that is simultaneously warm and cool the way air in the desert in the late afternoon tends to be (but not at all the way the air in New Jersey tends to be), I overheard a colleague say: “if I’m not enjoying it, I’m doing the wrong thing”. I wasn’t really part of his conversation, more wandering alongside lost in my own moment, so I’m not entirely sure what “it” was. But whatever he meant, he got me thinking.

It is easy to throw around sentences like that one when you are on vacation and the only decision to be made is which of two equally gorgeous hikes to take through the desert. We can love either. But what about loving to do what we’re about the rest of the time: when the sun is not setting over the crater and the sky turning to colors we’ll never see in Princeton, or Joliet or wherever.

I don’t know well the rabbi who was speaking but from what I can tell he certainly seems passionate about the work of his rabbinate. And another rabbi on our trip told me today that she actually was prepared to hate the form her rabbinate had taken until she discovered that she loved her work with the people with whom she engaged day by day. The CEO of Friends by Nature, Nir, got involved in the Ethiopian community when in his post army wanderings he fell in love with an area, met the people there and loved those people even more than the surroundings themselves. He has dedicated his life to that love. Miri Eisen started our day talking to us about the geopolitical reality of Israel given the world in which it exists. She is a woman whose passion for the people of Israel, her love for them and the need to protect them is evident in all she says. In other words, what struck me today was the power of love.

When you love what you do and who you do it with, the impossible sometimes becomes less so. I know we don’t live our lives on vacation where loving what you’re about is easy. I understand that there are plenty of things that all the love in the world is not going to make possible. But I came here to Israel with the CCAR Start Up Israel trip to learn what makes the impossible possible. A MARAM colleague who met with us for lunch and is building in Caesaria one of the newest congregations in Israel — a place where she herself declared there could never be a reform community — told us that she didn’t let herself focus on what couldn’t be. She focused on what she knew in her heart there needed to be. And she shared that love with others. Guess what? They had 100 plus people at the high holidays last year.

My questions then: how do we make the impossible happen? And what’s love got to do with it?

Rabbi Carolyn Bricklin-Small serves Congregation Beth Chaim in Princeton Junction, NJ.