Processing

We found a rabbi.

It took over a year, a bajillion meetings, lots of money and hours of work. But we found one. A good one. I'm trying not to get too excited, because the contract has not yet been finalized, but it's looking very promising.

I was the recording secretary for the search committee -- and now have become chair of the transition committee. Can you tell that I don't have a real job? The Rabbinical Assembly (the Conservative rabbbis' union) has published a pamphlet on the transition process that suggests that we use journaling as a method of processing our feelings during the transition from old rabbi to new.

Our temple is Conservative, Midwestern, medium-sized -- all pretty much in the middle of the range of all temples. Of course, we are special in our own way. A lovely building, a mostly really smart and caring membership, and lots of unrealized potential.

Rabbi M. has led our congregation for just over 20 years. He announced his retirement in February of 2009. A scholar and a mensch, he is well liked. But -- how can I say this gently? -- he's not a great speaker, not a strong leader, and has pretty much been riding out the clock for the last five years at least. I can't think of a program he has started, or any interesting or innovative ideas he has suggested.

He, like many in our community, is afraid of conflict, and will do the utmost to avoid it. This means a lot of bare-minimum effort and outright bad behavior has occurred on his watch.

I realize, and have often said, that a rabbi's job description is so vast and varied that no one person can possibly excel at all of it. Large synagogues that have the luxury of a senior rabbi and an assistant rabbi can divide the duties according to their strengths. How can one person be a good speaker, a pastoral counselor, the leader and manager of an institution, good with kids, middle-aged people and seniors alike, a scholar, and inspirer, a creative programmer and a fundraiser? It's a lot to expect.

That said, there's some anger at Rabbi M. that I guess I need to process and let go of. My children, now in adolescence, were not inspired to learn or get more involved because the rabbi never showed up in their classrooms, and they never set foot in his office until their b'nai mitzvah. The cantor (more showman than clergyman) does the bare minimum, and he (and the board, to be fair) never called him out on it, but rather shrugged their collective shoulders and said "oh well." It's that conflict-avoidance thing again.

Six years ago, two rotten things happened (no need to get into them here) and though neither one was the rabbi's fault, both could have been handled with less damage and pain to individuals and the institution if he hadn't been so tolerant of unacceptable behavior. "The fish rots from the head," as my husband used to say. The leader of an organization (especially the clergy) has the right and the need to say -- "Hey, this is wrong. Stop it now."