Connecting Terumah To My Volunteer Journey |
It’s happening. On Wednesday, I’m making the big move up North, to what in Hebrew is called דיור מוגן—“protected living.”
Last week in our kehillah, the young man (to me!) giving the dvar Torah ended by saying some lovely things about my leaving, and about my husband’s and my contribution to the community. Afterwards, I went over to him and said, “I’m not dead yet.” And that is exactly the point of my leaving now—while I’m still alive and kicking (maybe not physically)—when I’m still me, and able to make my own decisions about how and where I want to live.
This week, they are sending me off with a kiddush in my honor. And since it is Parshat Terumah, I’m sure whoever speaks will mention the obvious connections to our terumot—our contributions—over the past fifty years to the congregation and to the larger community of Omer.
Over the past few days, while reluctantly packing up, I’ve found myself reflecting on how Parshat Terumah resonates with my own life. Family and friends often ask why I take my teaching so seriously, given that it’s a volunteer role and not—now or ever—my career. Even when I’ve been offered payment for lectures, I’ve preferred that the money be donated to my local congregation.
Perhaps that is my own small way of bringing a terumah: giving not what is commanded, but what the heart moves one to give—time, energy, experience, and the deep belief that what we build together as a community matters. In that sense, even as I move on to a new chapter, I hope to still contribute—still teach,........