אִם אֵין קֶמַח, אֵין תּוֹרָה. אִם אֵין תּוֹרָה, אֵין קֶמַח Where there is no flour, there is no Torah. Where there is no Torah, there is no flour. - Mishnah Pirkei Avot 3:17
I had the honor of inheriting my great-grandfather’s hand-written sermons as a wedding gift. My maternal great-grandfather, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Glancz, was a rabbi and cantor in Bay City, Michigan, in the early 1900s. He scribbled down his sermons in a mix of Yiddish and English for a wide range of occasions, from Purim to funerals. From time to time, when I seek inspiration, I open his sermon notebooks and read through his words, imagining his thought process and inner spiritual life as a father, grandfather, and immigrant from Romania.
As I have studied his words over the years, I’ve noticed that one topic emerges from his writings more than any other. You might expect a rabbi to write often about grief or mitzvah, learning, or community. But while he addresses all these subjects in his writings, none of these are the most frequently visited trope of his rabbinate. Rather, the issue he returns to again and again is none other than the synagogue’s mortgage! In fact, one of the most celebratory sermons in his collection is a beautiful charge that he wrote to deliver to the congregation when the synagogue had finally paid off its mortgage and could burn the mortgage papers. What a fascinating discovery – that even more than the holidays, this Orthodox rabbi spoke about meeting the financial needs of his community.
On the one hand, we might wonder how a rabbi could possibly spend so much time dedicated to matters such as a mortgage, facilities, and fundraising. On the other hand, we are reminded of the wisdom of our rabbinic ancestors who wisely taught, “Ein kemach, ein Torah,” meaning “without flour, there is no Torah.” At the root of all holy acts are basic structural human needs. Taking care of our spiritual community must always be in partnership with taking care of our physical community, just as we cannot live a holy life while desecrating the body given to us by God to inhabit in this lifetime. Judaism compels us to live a full and integrated life with attention given to all our needs -- including the interaction of the physical and spiritual, financial and emotional – as well as the needs of those around us.
With this framework in mind, I want to share a hearty yasher koach to this community for meeting and exceeding the $100,000 match for the Pathways campaign this week. I want to thank each and every person who contributed to this campaign. If you haven’t already done so – it’s not too late. You can contribute online here or by mailing a check to the HEA office.
Thank you for celebrating with Rabbi Gruenwald and me last weekend and for making our installation an act of true partnership and brit. As we move forward in renewed covenant, it makes me proud to serve a community that attends to its structural needs alongside its spiritual needs. It makes me proud to contribute my own financial gift to this community that I have grown to love so much, a gift towards building a sustainable and inspiring future together. And it makes me proud to know that my great-grandfather would be smiling down on us today, inspired by our commitment to the holy work of both flour and Torah.
