Shabbat Roundup: December 18, 2020

Community, Events, Featured, Sermon, Shabbat

Shabbat Shalom, everyone! Welcome to the second weekly roundup of news, events, and articles from Nefesh.

Get Nefesh community news and a letter from Rabbi Susan Goldberg in your inbox every week! Read and subscribe here:

In this issue:

  • Nefesh Shabbat Service Friday Dec 18, 7pm. This Friday we will gather for Shabbes light together on zoom. We will explore the themes alive in the miracle and the battle, the light and the fight of Chanukah that we have just celebrated.
  • Next Shabbat services:
    • Friday January 1, 7pm
    • Saturday January 9, 9:30am Kids Jam / 10am Full Torah service
    • Friday January 15, 7pm

For kids: 

  • A new Jewish learning cohort for kids in 2nd-4th grade will begin on Jan 10th. Email Ellen if you are interested in hearing more at
  • Our b’nai mitzvah cohort of 5781 has begun their year of learning together. If you are interested in joining or are interested in an upcoming cohort let us know.

New at our website: Last Shabbat sermon and song, December 4:

Rabbi Susan Goldberg, December 4, 2020 sermon

Also every week:

Friday Poem from Rabbi Susan, 12/11

Honorary Jew

The first year, I grated potatoes, chopped onions &
watched. The second year, I fed all but the eggs
into the machine & said I’ll do the latkes & did,
my pile of crisp delights borne to the feast by the wife
who baffled me, our books closed, banter hushed,
money useless in the apartment—house, my in-laws called it,
new-wave thump at one end, ganja reek at the other—
in which she’d knelt to tell the no one who listened
no more no no more no a three-year-old mouthing
the essential prayer. The uncle made rich by a song
stacked three & dug in, talking critics & Koch—
everyone crunching now, slathering applesauce, slurping tea—
talking Rabin & Mehitabel, radio & Durrell,
how a song is a poem or it isn’t a song
& vice-versa. Done, he pointed a greasy finger
at me, said You can’t be a goy. You—I say it
for all to hear—are an honorary Jew!
which, impossible dream, my latkes lived up to
for five more years. Then the wailing.
Then the dust.