During the early stages of the Covid pandemic, the BJBE clergy team wrote daily messages to comfort, strengthen, and inspire the congregation.

I spent a fair amount of my Sunday in tears. It was a strange, joyful, heartbroken, proud, nostalgic set of tears. Let me tell you why.

Sunday was supposed to be ordination day for the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion’s New York campus. Instead, the moment was called Consecration, with the hopes of an in person ceremony when it is safe to do so. But no matter what you called it, Sunday was a good day. On Sunday the Jewish people officially welcomed in thirteen new rabbis and cantors, including our soon-to-be-newest-clergy member CANTOR Alex Kurland and our former summer fellow, RABBI Jenn Mager.

Three years and four days ago, it was my ordination day. It was one of the best days of my life, right on par with my wedding and the births of my two children. And on May 7, 2017, I cried (at least) two times.

The first time was right at the end of the ordination address. I will never forget the closing line. Rabbis Rachel Timoner and Joel Mosbacher said, “You are called. You are ready.” I had spent years talking about calling, but never being sure what it meant. And, sure, I had finished five years of studies and had a job I was excited to start, but, ready? Really? And then, hearing two rabbis whom I admired look at me and tell me, yes, I had a calling, and, yes, I could take on the insurmountable task of being a rabbi amongst the Jewish people…it just walloped me.

Everyone around me was standing and applauding, but when I heard them say those words, I quite literally lost my breath. After what felt like an hour (but was more likely about 1.8 seconds), I stood up to applaud. I tried choking back tears, but I was noticeably unsuccessful. I had come face to face with sacred Truth, feeling seen, trusted, and supported. A worthy moment for tears.

The second time was about 10 minutes after I had been ordained. I was officially a rabbi. Rabbi Aaron Panken (z”l) placed his hands on my heads and spoken ancient words that made real a dream I had been working towards for a lifetime, and one that I will continue to aspire toward for the rest of my life. But it really hadn’t sunk in yet. I got back to my seat and looked up at the bimah as my chevrutah (study partner), Rabbi Emily Langowitz, was standing in that same spot I had just been in with Rabbi Panken. I saw her come down from the ark and thought: “Wow! Emily is a rabbi!” And then, it hit me—if Emily is a rabbi, I must be a rabbi too. That day, I said again and again, “this is a good day for the Jewish people.” I marveled at my classmates, their compassion, their grace, their wisdom. I knew that the Jewish people and the world were better off with these new rabbis and cantors ascending into leadership. My eyes filled again with tears as I watched the latter half of the alphabet. Surely, this was a good day for the Jewish people.

The truth is, I’m a bit of a crier. I’m a truth crier. Those moments that tap into something deep and abiding in the universe force saltwater out of my eyes. A natural outgrowth of being a truth crier, is that I’m also an empathy crier. When I see someone else cry, when I see them access their truth, I feel the power of that moment. And, well, the waterworks begin.

Yesterday was ordination day again. It was a good, good day for the Jewish people. At 10:25, I logged on to HUC-JIR’s Zoom Ordination Webinar, and, as soon as I saw the faces of my teachers and colleagues, I just burst into tears. It was everything. I was overcome by the memory of my own experience. I was heartbroken that this momentous moment was happening digitally. I was proud of their achievement and hopeful for their futures. As my toddler sat on my lap and pointed at that screen, I was overjoyed that I could tell him that these people were named “rabbi” and “cantor.” I was inspired by the thoughtful remarks and reflections of my teachers and leaders of our Reform Movement, launching these new colleagues toward careers of meaning, power, and purpose. The Zoom was overflowing with love.

This virus has stolen a lot from us. In addition to the fear, illness, and loss of life it continues to inflict upon our world and community, it has also stripped us of important moments of coming together and celebration. But it will not steal our ability to love, to uplift, and to cry tears of joy and truth. We are finding that we can still create real, authentic, powerful moments. Does it look the way we expected? No. Would we do it this we if we had other options? Of course not. But does the ritual “work”? Can we transform our lives and the lives of people around us? Can we touch each other’s hearts, elevate beyond the mundane and glimpse the sacred? Absolutely.

On Sunday the Jewish people officially welcomed in thirteen new rabbis and cantors. It was a great day for the Jewish people.