Rodef Sholom: A Reform Jewish Congregation in Marin County, California

By Margaret Perlstein

My Rodef Sholom chavurah has just celebrated its tenth year. Granted, some of the members hadn’t joined us yet then and others left before now, but ten years in a group of unrelated families is something worthy of note. Being a mental health clinician, I know how hard it is to build cohesion in a group, let alone maintain it for an extended period of time.

For me, the chavurah is like a life raft at sea. Coming from a small town with an even smaller Jewish community, I’m not used to the large numbers involved in a congregation like Rodef Sholom. Actually, I’m a bit shy. So walking into services and religious school and tot shabbat (years ago), it is reassuring to see friendly, familiar faces. Having no relatives in the Bay Area, I am almost giddy with happiness when I run into my chavurah “family” at the temple or anywhere else.

Ours was among the first chavurahs formed at the Temple. The common thread Moji saw that convinced her to throw us together was that we were all young parents with young children. Given the chaos that reigns when there are multiple babies, toddlers, and school aged children around, we dubbed ourselves the Meshugas Chavurah. The name remains applicable today, in spite of the fact that our youngest members are now all school aged. Just try having a conversation in normal decibels when we are all gathered!

So what have we done, seen, lived through in these ten years? Births of children, deaths of parents, serious illnesses, near-fatal injuries, conversions, birthday parties, bat mitzvah celebrations, weekend camping trips, a love of dogs and chocolate chip cookies, parenting angst, and local politics are among the ingredients that keep this group together. But more importantly, we enjoy each other. We have fun together. We even love each other. Our loyalties to one another run deep.

Year after year, we know that we will be working a Mitzvah Day project, breaking the fast after Yom Kippur finally ends, lighting Chanukah candles, and going for at least one hike together. Sometimes our dogs are even invited to join in! When one of the adults starts talking about upcoming Bat Mitzvah plans, we all line up to be assigned duties – no one even needs to ask. I’m sure this will be the case when the boys step up to the Bima, too.

So, the Meshugas Chavurah has provided me with a congregation within the congregation and a local family. I can’t think of better it company. I will always be grateful to Moji and Rodef Sholom for having brought my family into this wonderful group of people. And, ever so slowly, often because of the others in my chavurah, I’m overcoming my shyness and branching out a bit.

At a recent dinner event, the adults were discussing how the kids were less available for the chavurah plans as they got older – two of our group are now in high school and more will follow soon. Someone wondered aloud if that meant the beginning of the end of the chavurah? Not surprisingly, all the adults committed to staying together with or without the kids. So one day (not soon, thankfully) we will become the Empty Nest chavurah. Then maybe we’ll go on to the Retired chavurah. Then maybe we’ll start having races with our walkers and wheelchairs. I certainly hope so. Until then, I’m pretty sure we’re all happy to remain in the Meshugas.