CBE President David Loewenberg’s Bulletin Column March – April 2026

Fellow Congregants,

As I write these words, there is still snow outside my window. It is February — even before Purim — and yet I find myself already looking toward Nissan and the renewal of spring. It feels both strange and entirely right to look ahead while trying to remain present.

The Sfat Emet — Rabbi Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter of Ger (1847–1905), a leading Hasidic master in Poland — teaches that every festival carries within it the seed of the one that follows. Even as we approach Purim’s joy, the beginnings of Nissan and the holiday of Passover are already taking shape. Even as winter lingers, spring is quietly preparing to emerge.

Jewish time moves this way. Reflection and anticipation live side by side.

This is my final Bulletin article before the close of my first year as your President, and I find myself holding that same tension. Nearly a year ago, I stepped into this role aware of the responsibilities ahead. What I have come to understand more deeply over these months is how profoundly shared that responsibility is.

A quick personal highlight from this year: On the first day of Rosh Hashanah, at the conclusion of services, one of my guests turned to me and said how wonderful the entire experience had been — full of congregational participation from beginning to end. He paused, searching for the right word, and then said it was “leibidich” — a Yiddish word meaning warm, enthusiastic, heartfelt. That, to me, is Beth El.

When the Torah describes our ancestors arriving at Sinai, it uses an interesting phrase: “VaYachanu bamidbar” — “and they encamped in the wilderness.” Rashi famously notes that the verb appears in the singular. The people stood as one person with one heart. Not necessarily identical, but unified in purpose.

I saw and felt that spirit on Rosh Hashanah, and I’ve seen and felt it throughout the year — in the steadiness and devotion of our professional staff, in the thoughtful leadership of our Executive Committee and Board, and in the countless ways our congregation shows up for one another.

Since I won’t write again before Passover, allow me to reflect on what we will read in the Haggadah; that in every generation, each of us must see ourselves as if we personally went out from Egypt. That teaching is not only about memory; it is about ownership. Jewish life is not something we inherit passively. It is something we actively do — personally and collectively.

Community works the same way. It does not sustain itself automatically. It is renewed, season by season, by those who choose to participate, to lead, to support, and to build.

Snow may still be on the ground as I write this. Purim is just ahead. The seeds of Nissan are planted, even if we can’t see them. One year is drawing toward its close even as another quietly begins to unfold.

Thank you for allowing me to serve alongside you in this sacred work. Thank you for being part of a congregation that is not only united in purpose, but leibidich in spirit.

B’Shalom,

David