This sanctuary that we sit in this morning - in fact, any Jewish sanctuary, throughout the world - is designed to reflect in certain specific ways the ancient tabernacle that the Israelites used as a house of worship when they wandered in the desert. A Jewish house of worship can be pretty much any size, it can be built in almost any configuration and style, but it will always have in it three items that are described in the Torah - what are they? the ark is one - in the Torah, it is the container of the tablets that Moses brings down from the mountain, and for us it is the sacred housing of the Torah scrolls the Shulhan is another - it represents the altar that was used by the priests for the sacrificial service and the last item is the Ner Tamid, the “eternal light,” that is described in this morning’s Torah portion in the following way: Tzav et B’nai Yisrael - command the Israelites - that they bring to you pure olive oil, pressed for lighting - l’ha’alot ner tamid - to light a ner tamid, a continual lamp.
The eternal light was placed just outside the area where the ark itself was located, so it was clearly considered to be an object of enormous sanctity. There are countless interpretations of the Ner Tamid that have been suggested over the years, but I would like this morning, for a few moments, to explore one particular interpretation that may help us to remember with gratitude the lives of Rabbi Jacob Agus, Rabbi Mark Loeb, and Cantor Saul Hammerman, of blessed memory.
And this is the simple symbol of light, this idea of illumination. Illumination is an interesting word - we think of it today in two ways - illumination -the way a light can enable us to see something physical - but we occasionally still use it in the way it was originally intended - illumination - spiritual enlightenment - this was the Old French usage of the word. We have a colloquial phrase that means the same thing, saying “you’ve shed light on that,” by which we mean, you’ve given us a deeper understanding of something.
- and isn’t that, in a sense, a perfect description of what Rabbi Agus, Rabbi Loeb, and Cantor Hammerman have given to Beth El and our members over the years. A deeper understanding of Judaism, a more profound appreciation for our faith, for its beauty and wisdom. A stronger connection to our history, a better sense of who we are and even more importantly, who we should be. In short, they have illuminated for us what it means to live a full, committed, and meaningful Jewish life.
How did they do it? One answer to that question has to be that they were here with us for such a long time. For a total of over 100 years they presided as the clergy of Beth El Congregation. Saul Hammerman was our cantor for 45 years. Jacob Agus and Mark Loeb each served Beth El for 30 years or more - and that is remarkable - I am not sure we understand how truly remarkable it is. There has been a lot of talk the last couple of days about Gary Williams retirement at Maryland, and one of the reasons for that is that he was the basketball coach there for 22 years, and we live in a world where people move from thing to thing and place to place and job to job. And I would be willing to guess that there are few congregations in the country that have had relationships of that length with not just one, not just two, but three of their clergy. It is something to be proud of and part of what makes Beth El a special place. And it is also part of what makes them special to us. Because it means that they were there for us through the generations of our families. They were there to help bury parents and grandparents, they were there at brises and baby namings, there were there at the b’nai mitzvah of our children, and then at their weddings, and then at the b’nai mitzah of our grandchildren. We talk all the time about the idea of l’dor va’dor, of generation to generation, and Jacob Agus, and Mark Loeb, and Saul Hammerman lived that with us.
But if the length of their service is remarkable, what is even more striking is the quality of their service. Each man was intensely devoted to Beth El, to the congregants here, and to the idea of making this one of the finest Conservative synagogues in the world. They were vastly different in style, in approach, and in personality. Rabbi Agus was a quiet man, almost shy at times. He was reserved and dignified, an old style rabbi who commanded enormous respect because of the power of his intellect and the depth of his knowledge, but also because of the steadfast menschlekite that he showed to his congregants. He was our rabbi, but he was also a nationally known figure in the Jewish world, and a formative thinker for the Conservative movement it its heyday.
Saul Hammerman was the perfect foil to Rabbi Agus. With his sparkling eyes, his warm smile, his sense of humor, and his easy charisma, Cantor Hammerman brought an unmistakable spark and spirit to everything he touched. He loved Jews and Judaism, and he loved Beth El, taking enormous pride in what the congregation had achieved during his tenure. He was a man of strong feeling and emotion, with a golden voice and an unparalleled knowledge of traditional liturgy and the melodies that made that liturgy literally come alive. Saul loved to tell the story of how, as a young hazzan, he received a letter from Beth El, with the depiction of a beautiful, brand new synagogue building at the top of the letter head. It looked so impressive, he figured he should at least come to Baltimore to take a look. It was only when he was here that he realized the beautiful building didn’t exist yet - it hadn’t been built! But you could say that in a way Saul’s career here made sure that the vision of that beautiful synagogue became a reality. And of course for Saul every step of the journey has been with his beloved Aileen and the loving family that they created together.
Mark Loeb was as different from Rabbi Agus as night is from day. He was boisterous, provocative at times, a brilliant speaker with a sharp and incisive mind. He was a tireless worker with enormous reserves of energy, and during the time that he served as senior rabbi the congregation doubled in size, adding close to 1,000 families. Mark was an unceasing advocate for the marginalized citizens of our world, and he challenged us, time and again, through the lens of the tradition that he loved, to be the best Jews we could be, and more importantly, to be the best human beings we could be. Mark also was a rabbi’s rabbi, mentoring countless colleagues around the country, some who served as his assistant, but many others who knew they could call at any time of the day or night to benefit from Mark’s experience, wisdom, and almost intuitive understanding of the modern rabbinate. Few people have known it better.
In the book of Kohelet, what we call in English Ecclesiastes, in the 4th chapter, we find the following verse - ha’chut hamishulash lo bimheira yinateik - a threefold cord is not easily broken. In the Talmud this verse is explained as applying to three generations of rabbis, but I think today we can understand the verse as describing for all of us the legacy that Rabbi Agus, Rabbi Loeb, and Cantor Hammerman together built for Beth El. The truth is our congregational life is informed by their work and blessed by their memories every day. It forms a threefold cord that continually gives us strength, inspiration, a sense of history, and a vision of the future that we can build together, and God willing, share together for many years to come.
may their memories truly be a blessing - for their families, for our congregation, and for everyone who knew and loved them -
Rabbi Steven Schwartz
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