A little girl in our Early Childhood Center experienced a major breakthrough in her life when she learned to tie her own shoes. Instead of excitement, however, she began to cry.

She answered, "I have to tie my shoes."

"I know," she wailed, "but now I'm going to have to do it for the rest of my life."

“Who shall live and who shall die?” are certainly weighty and awesome questions that fill our High Holy Day liturgy – but how we live and who we are when we die are even more powerful. “Who shall live and who shall die” is after all a rhetorical question – because all of us who live will one day die. It’s not whether, it’s only when. And so the question that always matters most – is what will our legacy be when the dying comes around?

Well if you were a professor of English literature you might say, ”The Complete Works of Shakespeare,” since his remarkable writing captures the full range of human emotion, desire, pathos, and longing. You might say as many do, that all of these emotions combined in the drama of the human spirit really represent what it means to be “religious.”

Of course you might expect, being a rabbi and all, that I would naturally say the Bible or the prayer book is the most religious book in your home.

When I say your checkbook reflects your “religion,” I mean it reflects the things that matter most to you in your life and the values you live by, more than any other book in your home. Your checkbook is like your personal Torah. And what the sages of the Talmud said about the Torah could be said about your checkbook as well: “Turn it, turn it, turn it, for everything is in it.”

So go home today after services and study your checkbook stubs or your Quicken register and see how your philanthropic reality measures up to your personal spiritual self-image. Your checkbook is a kind of spreadsheet of life – how many checks did you write this year to support those who are most vulnerable in our society? To house the homeless, feed the hungry, comfort the bereaved?

Jews give. They always have. In the Talmud Rabbi Eleazer says, “He who gives Tzedakah to charity is regarded as though he has filled the entire world with kindness.” And Jews have always taken this opportunity seriously and our responsibilities to the larger society as well. Though Jews in America represent only a little over 2% of the population, they represent 18% of all giving in America, nearly $6 billion.

This windfall from the WWII generation that scraped and saved to build businesses, and acquire stocks, bonds, and real estate will transform 5 million average Americans into millionaires. What they do with that money will ultimately tell the tale of their values, and the value that their religion holds in their lives as well.

Some of you remember that we, too, used to have a High Holy Day appeal from the bimah on Kol Nidre every year – with pledge cards and everything. But shortly after I came to KI I insisted that we stop. I couldn’t stand breaking the spiritual mood of the High Holy Days to ask for money for the synagogue. So I convinced the board to try it another way.

But the Talmud says, .” And after 20 years of the privilege of building this incredible congregation with all of you, I understand exactly what they meant by that 2,000 year old wisdom. When I came 20 years ago we were less than 250 families, with an old, funky building. As we grew we took a giant leap of faith and began a process that would eventually raise millions of dollars and build the beautiful, award-winning synagogue and sanctuary we have today.

Most people are astounded when they learn that it costs us $150,000 merely to provide these High Holy Day services for four days a year. $150,000.

Because most people fall victim to what I now call the Howie Mandel Syndrome. Those who shared the fabulous “Rejoice at Royce” event last year will recall his tongue in cheek comment about how thrilled he was to be able to give his time and talent to help raise money for the poor Jews of the Palisades. Everyone laughed, and I cringed.

What are the real needs? Fact #1 – Those of you who donate to KI beyond minimum dues and are part of our annual Mitzvah Circle of giving are the only reason we have the ability every single year to subsidize 1/3 of our congregation who in fact can’t afford the minimum dues. Over 300 families, a thousand individuals are able to be members of KI and be part of the Jewish community because others of you are willing to give.
200 children in our religious school

that no one is ever turned away from membership at KI because of inability to pay

Kol yisrael aravim zeh lezeh, “All the Jewish people are responsible for one another


My dream is a synagogue that is financially self-sufficient – where we don’t have to sweat and worry and scramble and spend endless energy and endless hours every single year to raise the $350,000 it takes beyond dues and fees just to provide all we do and continue to be the kind of synagogue we can be proud of. $350,000 a year – beyond dues, beyond fees. 350,000 worries for us – year in and year out.

I’m not a money person. I still can’t seem to balance my checkbook, even with Quicken. But I know that my dream for KI’s financial self-sufficiency will only happen when we build an endowment sufficient to generate those crucial funds every year automatically. Do you know that the top 10 endowed universities have over $78 billion dollars? We only need a $10 million endowment to do it. Let me know if you’re willing to make that happen.

Hmmm, for not wanting to raise money on the High Holy Days, I seem to have gotten a bit carried away with the Talmud’s dilemma of Kemah and Torah – that tension between the world of Torah and its spiritual teachings and the necessity of financial support to make Torah possible.

Because my ultimate vision for KI isn’t about money. Money is merely that which is necessary to allow what really matters most to take place. And what matters most is a synagogue that is able to be an intimate part of your life – to touch your family, your children, your friends at moments of your greatest need.

“They gave me this wonderful dinner,” he said, “and honored me for my 25 years. And throughout the dinner, one by one people would come up to me and say, “Rabbi, I remember the day I got married – …” “Rabbi, I remember my child’s bat mitzvah, …” “Rabbi, I remember when I was in the hospital and scared of what might happen, …” “Rabbi, I remember when my life was falling apart and my wife and I were struggling with our relationship and family traumas, …” “Rabbi, I remember having to face the nightmare of when my precious child died, …” “ is what matters,” this older, wiser rabbi told me. That is what a synagogue is really all about. In joys and sorrow, to celebrate together and to mourn together. To learn about life and its meaning as children and wrestle with ultimate questions of life as adults. To sing and pray and be silent with each other. To give each other strength, and hope, and faith, and comfort, and inspiration. It is to feel rooted by thousands of years of Jewish wisdom and ritual and tradition and to reach for the stars and embrace the future with faith together.

A place to be together, to remind ourselves that when we join together we really do make a difference in each other’s lives, in our children’s lives, in our own lives. We have a unique synagogue. It is a sacred community in which we can create a power together that can transform lives – our lives, and the lives of those most in need, most vulnerable in our society as well. But only if we do it together.
Be known for what you allocate not what you accumulate
We at KI have the privilege of partnering this year in creating a pilot Jewish educational program for our Auerbach Religious School called, “Menschlekeit Matters” with the Josephson Institute of Ethics. Michael Josephson and his family are members of KI. In his beautiful poem entitled, “What Will Matter,” Michael once wrote: “…How will the value of your days be measured? What will matter is not what you bought but what you built, not what you got but what you gave. What will matter is not your success but your significance.”

And that, my friends, is why we’re here – to remember to choose a life that matters. To remember that when we use our money consistent with our soul’s deepest dreams and highest aspirations it connects us to the whole of life, the soul of life, rather than separating us from others. That is the ultimate prosperity, and it is available to everyone, whether you have massive resources or moderate means. Using money as a direct expression of our deepest sense of self is to transform our abundance into a powerful, miraculous thing, indeed.

So be known for what you allocate, not what you accumulate - and this year choose a life that matters.