A Rabbi, a Cantor and the President of a shul were all in the Sanctuary one day when a thief brandishing a gun burst into the room. He looked at the three and said, "You've all seen my face and can identify me, so I'm going to have to shoot you. But first I will grant each of you one last wish."

The rabbi said that last year he had given the most wonderful sermon on Yom Kippur, a full hour and a half, and he wanted to give it one last time. The Cantor said that last year he had chanted the most beautiful Kol Nidre, it also took an hour and a half. He wanted the chance to do it one more time. The thief then looked at the president, who said "Just shoot me now!"

Perhaps some of you were feeling the same way as I approached the Bima. It occurs to me that for most of you my speech must be a lot like watching the movie Titanic. I can throw in some great background stories that you might not expect, but we all know how it's going to end.

Kol Nidre marks the beginning of the end of our period of t'shuva – a period of self-reflection and repentance. It is also a time when synagogues traditionally reflect upon their past year and ask the congregants to help them with their plans for the future. As I thought about the 4 years I will have spent as your President a few thoughts came to mind. First, I want to thank you for having given me this opportunity and for always showing up and supporting your community when we needed you. And it seems appropriate at this time to also apologize to those who I have offended by my words or deeds as your President. This experience has been humbling and challenging but mostly it has been wonderful. Together we have literally built buildings and created a home where our future now resides and grows. We have created a Long Range Plan aimed at guiding us towards a more perfect future. Over the last 4 years we have confronted hard choices about our leadership and the programs we provide, insuring that the guiding principles of our faith and of this community thrive in a fickle world. And yet with all of this accomplished I am left a bit empty. I wonder if we as a congregation have found our voice? Is this a place where our talents and passions as a congregation, what we're good at and what we love doing, overlaps with what the world needs?

I ask you: What do we want to be remembered for? As a congregation, what will be our legacy? These buildings? Our Programming? A Long Range Plan? Certainly, yes to some degree, but perhaps I can make my point another way. Close your eyes and think of a close relative or friend who is not with you tonight. Now think of what matters most to you about this person, is it the home they live in, the clothes they wear or the smiles they greeted you with or the

hug they gave you when you last said goodbye? We have built stunning buildings. We provide unmatched
programming and we have developed terrific plans, but frankly, 20 years
from now I'll remember the grace of Julie Brophy and the loving hugs ofLeonard Barde. That's our legacy. It's more powerful than any individual alone. How much better is the fruit salad, than any individual piece of fruit? I'm sorry for the food reference, perhaps the hunger it may cause gives you a sense of how passionate I feel about the opportunity to create an inspiring and lasting congregational legacy.

I believe that the vast majority of our congregants possess more talent, more ingenuity, more resourcefulness, and more creativity than their current involvement in our congregation requires or even allows to be used. The limited use of your talents represents a profound alienation, a disempowerment of our community and our congregation. Our membership has not found its voice. There's a lack of passion, ruach, and a lack of soul from within our family. Without this passion our volunteer ranks dwindle and our financial requirements go unmet. And so we turn to the whole gambit of techniques used by our community, Auctions, Capital Campaigns, Kol Nidre Appeals. We need your time, talents, and skills and many of you have told me that you would like to be more involved with our congregation. Here's all this capability, this talent, this capacity and this tremendous need for your participation but we can't seem to tap the passion, our voice, to get at it.

How do we find our Congregational voice? "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I... I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." Robert Frost may have been the inspiration for the original Long Range Plan developed in 1997, where the committee made a clear choice not to accept the well-traveled path to mediocrity, but rather chose the road to greatness and meaning. Think of all we have accomplished in the last 15 years while rising above the negative cultural influences of ego, scarcity, gossip, and victimization. These are some of the social cancers that can threaten a congregation if left to metastasize. The original Long Range Plan provided us a map to greatness.

The BODY of our congregation we rejuvenated with the remodeling of our campus. This is a wonderful space, and anyone who has attended a service or event on our patio on a warm summer evening cannot deny its beauty and intimacy.

The MIND of our congregation is well cared for by teachers, clergy and volunteers; providing opportunities for all of us to explore, learn and grow. We are a place of learning.

And the HEART of our congregation has been and always will be provided for by our love of Torah: God's love delivered to us on two scrolls.

And yet I feel we are not whole as a congregation, and we will never realize our potential greatness until we have provided for the SPIRIT of our congregation, our congregational soul. Each of us desires to live a life of greatness and contribution – we want to really matter, to really make a difference. To live such a life of meaning may seem difficult. Certainly you may doubt yourself and your ability to so, but this congregation needs you to make that difference, to be involved. I believe deeply that you can lead such a life, and discover the passion and talents you posses and can share. You can find your voice, and in so doing, help us find our congregational voice. To borrow from Shakespeare, "We know what we are, but know not what we may be."

Of course, discovering what we may be won't come cheaply. It will require both contributions of wealth and time from all. Every one of us, we are in this together. And, regardless of its size, do not underestimate the value of the contribution you make. I recently attended the Shiva Minyan of a man I had never met. His life, it seemed, was difficult at best and, at the age of 31, death found him. The newspaper may have reported his passing in an off-handed way, as a transient found dead, nothing more. But those at the Minyan who knew him spoke of a loving and generous soul. His spirit carved out a niche in their lives that will last forever. For someone with no real material possessions or wealth, his impact on these people, my friends, was deep and real. And his legacy touched me and now you. Every one of us, we are in this together.

Bring us your passion, your talents, your energy. Let us become the creative force of our own lives. And yes, tonight we need your contributions, your money, in order to maintain our congregational Body, Mind and Heart. But to be whole, to be complete, we need your Spirit. Long after these buildings crumble and our innovative programs are deemed obsolete, it is our congregational Spirit that will survive, creating our congregational legacy.

How will they remember us? As a congregation that built buildings, or built bridges to one another; a congregation that supported innumerable programs, or had immeasurable compassion; a congregation that dutifully attended services, or one that celebrated each other's success and comforted each other in times of need? I have deep conviction that Neveh Shalom can live such a congregational life.

"The future," it has been said "belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." Let us, by our participation in this appeal, firmly establish our legacy, and embolden our Spirit.