alav hashalom

On any given day, save Shabbos, I half expect the telephone to ring, the JCC’s PhoneTree to be on the other end of the line.

“We regret to inform you of the passing of The Bulletin,” says the voice, recognized by your editor as that of shul stalwart Joe Richmond, “member of our synagogue community since 1951. Services will be held in the Moseson Chapel on the 15th of the month — preceding deadline. Kiddush to follow in the Wachtel Room.”

 Could it be? The Bulletin, geshtorbin? Victim of benign neglect, consigned to be read and, perhaps, beloved by a congregation from afar, but rarely contributed to by the adoring masses, but under the most intense pressure from certain quarters, with tacit threat of excommunication (assuming we Jews had such a thing).

 I often awake at night, near publication date, in a cold sweat, dreading the open, blank page staring back at me from my laptop. “Last month’s events — again.” “No word from the masses.” “Nothing but yahrzeits…”

Your editor pleads, begs, down on one knee, even, for the written word — or any number of them, strung together to form a sentence. That a few, or many among the congregation might shrieb a bissel. A prayer for divine intervention, perhaps. Gornisht!

I check e-mail, religiously, and, on occasion, visit The Bulletin mailbox at the shul office, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, everyone would send a letter, a story, a remembrance, or a check, payable to cash.  No such luck.

And I wonder, just how long any monthly missive, dedicated not only to the history of our people, our shul, our Jewish way of life, but to posterity as well, can endure and survive without the participation and engagement of its readership?

True enough.  The editor’s road is a lonely one. A place of solitude and reflection. But I should be like Robinson Crusoe?

 The koach of The Bulletin, like that of our shul itself,  requires not passivity or passing mention, but rather, concerted, active, and, yes, even occasional impassioned participation. Your editor is not asking each of you to write for this      newsletter on a monthly basis, any more than he would ask you to attend minyan daily or services weekly. But once in a while, like on the High Holidays, wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?

 The future of The Bulletin — your Bulletin — is not etched in stone. Reports of its demise are greatly exaggerated, indeed. There is still time to immerse yourselves, in the activities of our shul, in the work of our sacred community, and, yes, in the pages of this communiqué.

 Say not a prayer — and certainly not kaddish — for The Bulletin. Hope springs eternal that with your editor’s persistence, your involvement, and a well-placed misheberach or two, The Bulletin will go on, gezunterheyt, like our shul and its members, biz hundert un tsvantsig.

 See you in The Bulletin!

-Seth D. Bykofsky, Editor ☺     

  Write to your Editor/Webmaster at JCCeditor@aol.com