Typical Day
Rabbi Oyjoy starts his Friday morning at 7:00AM with a quick jog to get him in the groove for the big Sabbath night ahead.
When he gets back home, he quickly showers, gets dressed, and gives his wife and two daughters each a kiss goodbye. He wants to get an early morning start on the day. It's going to be a long one, but he knows he will see his family at the Shabbat service at five.
He grabs a bagel and some lox smear, puts on his Friday happy face Kippah, and walks the twelve blocks from his home to the Temple.
As soon as he gets in the door, his assistant warns him there are some urgent matters to attend to. For one, the roof in the sanctuary is leaking from last night's rain and the carpet got a bit damp. One of the benches is also starting to warp. Yikes...
Rabbi Oyjoy asks why the temple president hasn't been alerted and he's reminded that she's on vacation with her husband in Israel right now. The Rabbi instructs his assistant to talk to the head of the building committee for the synagogue to see what they have in the way of budget to fix the leaky roof. He then tells her to call someone to fix it, and hopefully quickly as it's supposed to rain again tonight. They need more mishegoss like these like they need a hole in the head.
When he gets into his office, Rabbi listens to his voicemail to find out that someone in the area wants to hire him to officiate at a wedding. It's not a congregant, but instead is someone who has family in the area and wants to use the Temple for the service. Jackpot, he thinks. Now we can pay to fix the roof.
Next on his voicemail is a message from the mother of one of his Hebrew school students. Apparently, her son is flunking out of Hebrew school and the teacher says he won't get Bar Mitzvah'd on time. She's frantic. She already booked the reception and he has to have the Bar Mitzvah on that date. The Rabbi wonders why she doesn't just call the education director about this before he realizes he had to let her go recently because they didn't have enough money to pay her.
Enrollment in the Temple is down and while he's still getting a decent salary, they've had to make a lot of budget cuts.
Rabbi Oyjoy calls back the angry mother and assures her that if she can get the boy some tutoring and he works hard, he'll be able to graduate. Hopefully. He hangs up the phone and takes a couple of Tylenol for his growing headache.
The Rabbi then leads an adult education class, where six women and two men (almost all senior citizens) discuss Talmud, the Torah, and the roof that's still leaking.
At around noon, the temple's assistant director, Shayna Punim, comes in and sits down at a meeting about how they can drum up membership. "Maybe more fun stuff," suggests Shayna. "Like having a fun night for young families, like a talent contest. American 'We Don't Follow False Idols,' we can call it." Rabbi Oyjoy loves the idea, though isn't ecstatic about the name. They'll have to workshop that. He also likes the idea of holding Shabbat services on the nearby beach in a few months when the weather warms up. With Purim and Passover coming up soon, they will also have a Purim Carnival and a big Passover sedar to bring the congregation together. They might even entice some new families with children.
Feeling uplifted, Rabbi Oyjoy retreats to his office where he prepares his sermon for tonight's Shabbat service. It should be about the power of resiliency he thinks, and decides to ask the Cantor to sing "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor during the service. He figures it'll sound especially good with the Milk and Honey Band, which has a great clarinet player.
After he's done with the sermon, Rabbi Oyjoy pops over to a nearby nursing home, where the mother of one of his congregants is staying. He tries to visit Mrs. Liebowitz and other relatives of his congregation at home every other Friday for Shabbat. He brings mini Challahs that he blesses just for the group. They are delighted to see him and always call him a mensche, which he enjoys. He knows he's made their day.
The Rabbi changes into his good clothes for tonight's service and goes to greet the congregation. He says hello to his family and to the worried mother he spoke to on the phone earlier today. Her son is chasing another boy around the room. Ah, now he remembers this boy. A troublemaker.
The Shabbat service goes well. It's not a big crowd—just the Hebrew school regulars, the senior citizens, the Temple board members, and the Rabbi's family. About thirty people in all. If they plan on keeping open their doors, they're going to have to do a lot better than this.
The Rabbi does his shpiel. He talks about how they all need to buck up and hang in there. The band plays "I Will Survive," which is a total hit. The cantor sings in his offkey voice, along with some of the kids' parents. The kids groan from embarrassment. The Rabbi's daughters are beaming as they watch their father get up there and dance next to the Cantor and the band. That is, until the rain starts and the roof begins to leak and everyone ends up having a rather wet, mushy Kiddush of Challah, soggy pastries, wine, and grape juice.
At the end of the night, everyone filters out. They thank the Rabbi and laugh about the rain. Rabbi Oyjoy sighs. At least they're being flexible—resilient, he thinks. He feels satisfied as he closes up shop and returns home with his family.