In my free time, I am president of my synagogue--a large Reform congregation with about 1800 families. As president, I give a lot of speeches. Here is a copy of my Kol Nidre address. Thanks for reading it. It's about tradition, community and synagogue life.

A mother is making brisket for the holidays as her son watches. She seasons the meat, slices off each end and places in the pan. “Mommy,” the boy asks, “why do you cut off each end before you put the brisket in the pan?”

“It's how my mother always did it,” she answers. “You will have to ask her why this makes it taste so good." The boy dials the phone. “Grandma, why do you cut off each end of the brisket before you cook it? How does that make it taste better?” The grandmother pauses before answering, “That is how my mother did it—it was the secret to her recipe.”

So the family goes to visit the great-grandmother. “Bubbe,” the young boy asks. “When you make brisket, why does cutting off each end of the meat make it taste better?” “What taste better?” the bubbe replies “it was the only way it would fit in my pan.”

Each of our families has traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation. Some are steeped with history and meaning; others we do simply because we have always done them. Some we can’t wait to share, some we do grudgingly, and some we are forced to stop when those who keep them alive die. But all weave together to create the fabric of who we are. Tradition can be everlasting and, at the same time, all too fragile. It takes just one person to stop telling a story, to stop cooking a meal, visiting a relative or yes, to stop observing a holiday, and an entire chain can be broken.

I have been thinking of this frailty since July when I read an article in the Wall Street Journal titled “More City Bar Mitzvahs Hold the Religion.” The author described a trend in which Jewish families chose to have what he called a Secular Bar Mitzvah when their child turns 13. I was NOT bothered by the non-traditional venues where the ceremonies took place, or that most of the children prepared for these occasions outside of a formal educational process. After all, there certainly is no “one size fits all” method of Judaism.

However, I was troubled to read that many of these ceremonies contained no mention of God, no prayers, and no Torah. While the events were meaningful for the participants and their families, many deliberately excluded rituals and traditions that have been integral parts of Judaism for centuries.

As I read this article, I couldn’t help but think about the early builders of Rodeph Sholom who established our congregation an Orthodox shul in 1842. When CRS evolved into a Reform synagogue, its leaders kept traditions that were key parts of Judaism—they remained steadfastly committed to ritual, education and social action. I also thought of the more recent sustainers of this community, many of whom came to America and to Rodeph Sholom after escaping the Nazi regime in Europe. Their lives had been at risk because of their Judaism. What would they think of a deliberate exclusion of tradition due to a perceived lack of immediate relevancy?

Reform Judaism is built on the concept that individuals have the freedom to interpret ritual in a way that is meaningful for them. We are not expected to follow all the commandants. Rather, we have the opportunity and the obligation to learn about them and embrace those that help us feel spiritual and perhaps more connected to God. There is room in our laws and liturgy for each to find what resonates on a personal level.

Does Secular Bar Mitzvah take this freedom too far? That is a question only the individual can answer. And--in reality, I don’t believe Secular Bar Mitzvah is a fad that will sweep the nation. But, just for a second, imagine what would happen to our religion, to our entire people, if a significant part of a generation of Jews became Bar Mitzvah without any mention of God, prayers, or Torah. With no mention or acknowledgment of the actual commandments themselves? What would the following generation of Jews be like? What rituals would they pass on to their children? If one generation breaks the chain, can it ever be repaired?

There are about 6.5 million Jews in the United States, how many of them—and then, perhaps as a result, their children and their children’s children—can we afford to lose? How many of the 2 million in New York City? How many links in the chain are we willing to drop due to lack of familiarity with, or knowledge of, ritual, limited access to a synagogue, ineffective Jewish education or just indifference?

At Rodeph Sholom, the answer is simple. None. Jewish tradition is too important, our history too rich, and our future too exciting, to allow anyone to miss the opportunity to enjoy all that is has to offer.

Every day, our amazing clergy and top caliber staff focus on developing the prayer experiences, the educational programs, and community service opportunities that will deepen our members’ engagement in Jewish life. Rodeph Sholom’s focus on Judaism’s core values of ritual, education and repairing the world is what makes us who we are as a community. These values can serve as a foundation for each individual, help provide a framework for decision-making, and give purpose in these continued times of uncertainty.

The priorities are evident in all our offerings, which are far too numerous to name, but allow me to mention a few. If it is ritual you seek, Rodeph Sholom prays together as a community each Friday night and offers 5 different services most Shabbat mornings. In the coming weeks there will be an array of holiday celebrations; you can join us in the spring for Purim or for our Freedom and Congregational seders. If you want your intellect stimulated, choose from adult education classes, our women’s Torah study group, learning sessions with our clergy and several Shabbaton. Get involved in the community through Mitzvah Day, One Voice to Save Choice activities, Community Organizing, volunteering in our homeless shelter or simply by donating food tomorrow to our annual food drive. We have concerts, a book club, a family trip to Israel, mah jongg, community theater. There is truly something for everyone.

I am incredibly proud and lucky to be a part of all that goes on here. In times where many congregations around the country are cutting programs and losing members because of indifference or financial hardship, Rodeph Sholom is fortunate to be relatively strong. While there might be wild gyrations on Wall Street and political uncertainty in Washington, our purpose is clear and our path well defined.

And so, we must continue to fulfill our obligation by securing our future. But we cannot do it without your help. Since the day Rodeph Sholom was founded, it has been an integral part of our mission to welcome all who seek to be members of our community, regardless of their financial means. I hope I can count on your continued partnership and support that enables us to keep this most sacred promise.

And, equally important, your participation in our programs and activities strengthens our community, making it all the more vibrant. You are the sustainers of our remarkable heritage. The fabric of our tradition is a tapestry—the more threads it has, the stronger and more beautiful it is. Whether your family has been here for 5 generations or you are attending your first Rodeph Sholom service, you are a critical part of both our history and our future. Your active involvement helps strengthen not just this generation, and not just your children’s but their children’s as well. So, I thank you for your role in helping us keep THIS most sacred promise.

Your support this past year has been incredible and much appreciated. I look forward to working with you as together we can continue to build a community that will flourish for generations to come.

My family joins me in wishing you a g’mar tov and a 5772 blessed with health, happiness and peace. Shanah Tovah.