Know before whom you stand – דע לפני מי אתה עומד

Whenever I lead worship for my college students at Johns Hopkins University Hillel, I place before me five simple words, “Know before whom you stand.”[1] What once served as a reminder that when I pray, I stand before God, these words now also help me focus on the people in front of me. My leadership helps my students grow as they connect to God, to each other, and to themselves. I know before whom I stand: both God and community.

I strive to keep these words in my heart. As rabbi, I serve at a nexus between God and community. I seek to intertwine them through Jewish learning and action to improve individual lives, families, communities, and the world. As I stand before God and community, I serve them as prophet, priest, and pastor.[2]

Rabbi as Prophet: I stand before learners and doers of all ages.

A rabbi serves first and foremost as a teacher. Like the biblical prophets, I feel called to bring Torah to the people. I love to employ the skills I mastered with my education degree to tell stories to nursery school children, to engage with elementary and high school students, to create meaning with undergraduates, and to teach older adult learners. From formal education in the synagogue to informal education at camp, from interdenominational discussions to college mentorship, I seek to teach Torah.

In doing so, as Pesikta de-Rav Kahana instructs, Torah must not be like an antiquated decree, but instead must be new and fresh.[3] At Hopkins Hillel, my favorite moments have included when I guide college students on their own paths to Torah and help them connect these ancient teachings to their own lives today. One of the highlights of each week has been my one-on-one studies with individual students, such as one former student with whom I discussed the weekly Torah portion and then we related it to the fictional stories she would write. I also adore my Jewish Learning Fellowship (JLF) students, who always bring their full selves and complicated identities to both ancient and modern concepts of Torah.

At the same time, “wisdom without action is like a tree without fruit,”[4] and so Torah should be lived in the world. The prophets did not simply teach Torah for Torah’s sake, but to act. I feel this prophetic call for justice deep in my heart, pushing me to march for human rights, to preach social issue sermons, and to create justice opportunities together with my learners. For instance, in my new initiative the Tikkun Olam Fellowship, students perform service, learn about social action and justice through a Jewish lens, and reflect on their privilege in this work. This passion for equity as an activist and organizer drives me and my rabbinate: to lead others in ethical and moral acts as we, one small step at a time, improve the world.

 Rabbi as Priest: I stand before seekers of ritual and meaning.

The priestly role of the rabbi—leading services, officiating life cycle events, and crafting meaningful ritual—initially drew me toward the rabbinate. When I mentor students in co-leading worship, lead a community on guitar, create engaging visual t’filah [worship], ritualize a commencement ceremony for college students, and welcome a new couple into the covenant of marriage, I celebrate our sacred traditions. Simultaneously, I recognize that Judaism harbors countless paths for individuals. Today’s young Jews often want something different than their parents and grandparents: a do-it-yourself Judaism that focuses less on what Judaism is and more on what Judaism does. I have especially noticed this with young people, who yearn deeply for Jewish meaning yet do not always feel connected to traditional Jewish models of engagement. Ultimately, my priestly commitments inspire me to serve as sage on the stage and guide on the side. This mentorship develops primarily through building relationships. As one of my first students, who had previously barely been involved in the Jewish community, told me after meeting regularly for about three months: “I had never had a ‘my rabbi’ before I met you.”

For the people who seek this meaning yet do not feel welcome, it is incumbent on us, the leadership, to create a community of diversity and inclusivity. I sought this hospitality firsthand at Hopkins Hillel by leading our Design Thinking initiative. Through a process of discovery, ideation, and prototyping, we sought to transform Hillel into a more warm and accessible community via relational conversations and student-driven programming. Our students now connect to Hillel through experiences such as book clubs and comedy shows, and we also present more subtle gestures of welcoming such as a website redesign with more inclusive language. My priestly duties do not limit me to traditional approaches to doing things, and instead enable me to broaden our horizons to meet Jews in new, yet meaningful, ways.

Rabbi as Pastor: I stand before my community in covenantal relationship.

My prophetic work and priestly duties thrive on sustaining relationships, and thus the pastoral role supports all my rabbinic endeavors. During my summer as a chaplain intern at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, I experienced a radical change in perspective. I not only learned how to care for the ill and dying, but I also gained valuable insight into my own emotions, desires, and reactions. These pastoral skills and this relational outlook now infuse all that I do, as I visit the sick, console the bereaved, and help individuals with spiritual and emotional challenges. Whether I am caring for a Hopkins student whose parent has just died or one who suffered emotional or physical trauma, I aim to listen and guide.

Covenant is a lifelong journey. Being pastorally attuned to the needs of my community members means standing with them not only in times of crisis, but also in times of joy. I strive to be the pastor who leads the flock toward a shared vision. Even when I organize for justice and preach for societal and policy changes, I maintain a pastoral mindset as I consider all members of community. I welcome deep, honest, and values-driven dialogue with those who interpret our traditions differently. At Hillel, for instance, I serve every Jew regardless of denomination or politics, even as I build our Reform community. I seek covenantal relationships with everyone as I listen to and strive to understand all narratives.

Responsibility and Reverence: I stand with two slips of paper.

As I reflect on my rabbinate so far—and the countless students’ and other community members’ lives I have touched—I think of Rabbi Simcha Bunim, who carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one paper were the words, “For my sake the world was created,” and on the other, “I am but dust and ashes.” These two statements remind me of the power and responsibility of the rabbinate and, simultaneously, the humility and reverence that this role requires. I aspire to feel this duality when I meet with students for coffee and get to know them deeply, when I teach Torah in new and meaningful ways, when I mentor and pastorally care for students one-on-one, when I build relationships with donors and stakeholders, and when I help achieve our community’s mission and vision.

Ultimately, coming to know before whom we stand is a shared discovery process between God and community, a covenantal journey that can transform lives and which stands at the core of my rabbinic vision.