Shavuah Tov 15 Tishrei 5787

Chag Sameach, Friends,

 

There is something about Sukkot that I have always loved.

 

Perhaps it is the simplicity of it. We build a temporary structure, step outside of our homes, sit around a table with people we care about, and are reminded of what really matters. After the introspection and intensity of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Sukkot seems to say: now come outside, sit together, welcome someone in, share a meal, look up at the stars and rejoice.

 

I love that.

 

Because so much of what Sukkot asks of us is also what I believe we try to do every day at the J: open our doors, make room for one another, celebrate being together and create a place where people know they belong.

 

Friday evening marked the beginning of Sukkot, known in our tradition as Zman Simchateinu   the season of our rejoicing. We leave the permanence of our homes and enter the beautiful fragility of the sukkah. We gather with family and friends, share meals, wave the lulav and etrog, look through the s’chach toward the sky, and remind ourselves that joy is not necessarily found in what surrounds us, but in who surrounds us.

 

One of my favorite Sukkot traditions is Ushpizin, an Aramaic word meaning “guests.” Jewish mystical tradition imagines that each evening of Sukkot we welcome honored ancestors into our sukkah  Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, Leah, Miriam, Joseph, and Moses.

 

But Ushpizin is about more than symbolic guests.

 

It reminds us of the Jewish value of Hachnasat Orchim welcoming guests. Our sukkah is meant to be open. We invite people inside. We make room at the table.

 

What a beautiful metaphor for the J.

 

Every day at the Tucson J, we practice our own form of Ushpizin. We welcome longtime members and people walking through our doors for the first time. We welcome children and older adults, families and individuals, Jews from across the spectrum of Jewish life and people from throughout the broader Tucson community.

 

Everyone belongs, and some people join.

 

Sukkot also asks us to rejoice. And as I look around our J, there is so much worthy of rejoicing.

 

We rejoice in the sounds of children learning, laughing and growing in our Early Childhood Education program. We rejoice in young people discovering friendship and belonging through J Care, Camp J, BBYO and Jewish experiences. We rejoice in older adults finding connection, purpose and community through Healthy Aging.

 

We rejoice in the energy of our fitness center, pools, sports programs and Sarver Tennis Center. We rejoice in Jewish learning, music, film, art and culture. We rejoice in the partnerships that make Jewish Tucson stronger and in the countless conversations and connections that happen every day in our hallways, classrooms, on the pool deck, on the courts and over a cup of coffee.

 

Most of all, we rejoice in community itself in the extraordinary staff, board members, donors, volunteers, partners and members who, shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, make this community possible.

 

Another beautiful Sukkot tradition is the Arba Minim the Four Species: lulav, myrtle, willow and etrog. We bring four very different things together, hold them as one and wave them in every direction.

 

There are many interpretations of this ritual, but I love the simple image of different things, with different characteristics, being gathered without surrendering what makes each distinctive.

 

Unified without being uniform.

 

That, too, is community.

There is another image of Sukkot that feels especially meaningful to me this year. Each evening in the prayer Hashkeivenu, we ask:

 

Spread over us Your sukkah of peace.

 

The sukkah is an interesting symbol for peace.

 

It is not a fortress. Its walls are temporary. Its roof is deliberately incomplete. We can see the world beyond it and the stars above us. And yet Jewish tradition asks God to spread over us not a fortress of peace, but a sukkat shalom a sukkah of peace.

 

Perhaps there is profound wisdom in that.

 

Peace does not come because we have built walls strong enough to keep everyone else out. Peace comes when we create spaces large enough to bring one another in.

 

And that is the sukkah we strive to build every day at the J.

 

It brings to mind a song I have returned to many times, Beautiful City from Godspell. The song carries a simple but powerful idea: a better world does not simply appear. We have to build it.

 

That feels especially appropriate on Sukkot.

 

We build the sukkah one piece at a time. We build community one relationship at a time. We build belonging one welcome at a time. We build trust one conversation at a time. And we build peace by making room for one another.

 

Our “beautiful city” is not defined primarily by the building. It is defined by the community we create within it and the community that extends far beyond our walls.

 

During the intermediate days of Sukkot, you may hear the greeting Moadim L Simcha It expresses the hope that these appointed times these sacred moments on our calendar will be occasions for joy. The traditional response is

 

 “Chagim u’zmanim l’sasson” may the festivals and seasons be for gladness.

 

I love Moadim L’Simcha because it does more than describe Sukkot as joyful. It reminds us that there are moments when we need to choose to notice joy.

 

To notice who is sitting at our table.

 

To recognize the blessing of community.

 

To welcome someone new.

 

To celebrate what we have built together.

 

And perhaps, during this Zman Simchateinu, to ask ourselves what more we can build.

 

Another relationship.

 

Another connection.

 

Another place of belonging.

 

Another seat at the table.

 

Another piece of our beautiful city.

 

As we celebrate Sukkot, may we recognize all that is worthy of rejoicing. May we open our sukkot, our community and our hearts a little wider. May we continue to welcome our Ushpizin expected and unexpected and may we never take for granted the extraordinary gift of being together.

 

And may the words of Hashkeivenu become not simply a prayer we recite, but a responsibility we share:

 

May a sukkah of peace be spread over us, over our community, over the Jewish people, and over all who seek peace.

 

And together, one relationship, one act of welcome and one moment of kindness at a time, may we continue to build our beautiful city.

 

Moadim L’Simcha and Chag Sameach.

 

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.


Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavuah Tov 23 Elul 5786

Next Friday evening, Jews here in Tucson, throughout Israel, and around the world will begin welcoming the year 5787. We will hear familiar melodies, gather around tables with family and friends, taste apples and honey, and listen to the ancient call of the shofar.

And during these sacred days, we will say words that have accompanied the Jewish people through countless beginnings:

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, shehecheyanu, v’kiyemanu, v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of the universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season.

I have always been moved by the final words: v’higiyanu lazman hazeh, who has brought us to this moment.

Shehecheyanu is a blessing of gratitude, but it is also a blessing of perspective.

We are grateful not because everything in the year behind us was easy. It was not. There were moments of joy and moments of disappointment, moments when our plans succeeded and moments when we missed the mark. There were times of celebration and times of uncertainty, both within our own community and throughout the Jewish world.

Yet here we are.

We have reached this season.

And perhaps even more importantly, we have reached it together.

That is one of the great gifts of Jewish community. We do not experience time only as individuals. We mark it as a people. The shofar is heard by all of us. The sweetness of the apple and honey is shared. The prayers are spoken in communities around the world. Shehecheyanu reminds us that simply arriving at another sacred moment together is itself worthy of gratitude.

The familiar Israeli song Bashanah Haba’ah “Next Year” captures that spirit beautifully. Written by Ehud Manor, its imagery looks toward a future filled with ordinary blessings, home, family, sunlight, children, and peace. Its message is wonderfully Jewish: we acknowledge the world as it is while continuing to imagine the world as it might yet become.

That is what a new year asks of us.

Not simply, What do I hope will happen?

But also, What will I do to help make that hope possible?

At the Tucson J, that question is at the heart of our work. How will we create more vibrant Jewish life? How will we build greater community? How will we ensure that the people who walk through our doors know that they belong? How will we care for one another, learn from one another, disagree with respect, celebrate together, and continue building a community worthy of the generations who will follow us?

Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai wrote beautifully about the importance of moving beyond certainty and creating space where people can meet. His poetry reminds us that hope often begins when we make room for one another.

That feels especially important as we enter a new year.

We do not need to be uniform to be unified. We can bring different experiences, perspectives, traditions, and beliefs while still standing shoulder to shoulder in the work of building community. Our strength does not come from everyone seeing the world in precisely the same way. It comes from recognizing that our lives and our futures are bound together.

And perhaps that is why Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World feels like an appropriate soundtrack for this season. The song does not describe a perfect world. Instead, it invites us to notice the blessings that are already around us, the people we love, the beauty we sometimes overlook, and the extraordinary possibilities contained within ordinary moments.

That, too, is Shehecheyanu.

To stop.

To notice.

To give thanks.

And then to look forward with hope.

As I reflect on the year ending, I am deeply grateful for this community for the wisdom and leadership of our Board, the generosity of our donors, the partnership of community leaders, and the extraordinary commitment of our staff. I am grateful for the thousands of people who make the Tucson J their town square: a place to gather, learn, exercise, celebrate, struggle, laugh, build relationships, and simply be together.

Most of all, I am grateful that we have reached this moment together.

As the sound of the shofar calls us into 5787, may it awaken within each of us gratitude for what has been, courage to learn from what did not go as we hoped, and optimism about what we can still create.

May we enter this new year committed to building a community of greater kindness, deeper connection, vibrant Jewish life, and abundant hope.

And when we say Shehecheyanu, may we truly recognize the miracle contained within those words:

We are here.

We are together.

And another year of possibility lies before us.

Shanah Tovah U’Metukah.

May 5787 be a year of sweetness, health, peace, gratitude, and hope for each of us, for our community, for Israel and the Jewish people, and for our world.

Shavuah Tov and Shanah Tovah.

 

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.


Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavuah Tov 16 Elul 5786

Shavuah Tov

 

There are moments in the life of every organization and every community when the path ahead feels particularly challenging. Plans do not unfold exactly as we anticipated. Circumstances change. We encounter obstacles that require us to reconsider assumptions, make difficult choices, and sometimes find a different path forward.

 

Yet I have come to believe that these moments can also be among our greatest opportunities.

 

Jewish tradition does not teach us to avoid difficulty. It teaches us how to respond to it.

 

In the Book of Exodus, as the Israelites battle Amalek, Moses stands above the battlefield with his hands raised. But eventually, we are told, “Moses’ hands grew heavy.” Aaron and Hur then stand beside him, one on each side, and hold up his hands until sunset.

 

What a remarkable image of leadership and community.

 

Moses does not become less of a leader because he needs Aaron and Hur. He does not surrender his authority by allowing others to help carry the burden. Quite the opposite. Together, they become stronger than any one of them could have been alone.

 

That lesson feels particularly meaningful to me.

 

Too often we think that working together requires us to surrender something our authority, our independence, our ideas, or our individual voice. Jewish tradition suggests precisely the opposite. When we bring our individual strengths to a shared purpose, we do not give away power. We multiply our strength.

 

Kohelet teaches:

 

“Tovim hashnayim min ha’echad — Two are better than one.”

 

And then it tells us why: when one falls, the other can lift them up. A few verses later, Kohelet offers an image that might describe a healthy community perfectly: “A threefold cord is not readily broken.”

 

Our strength is not found in never stumbling. Our strength is found in knowing that when one of us stumbles, another will be there to help us rise.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z”l described this through the Jewish idea of brit, covenant. He taught that in covenant, people come together in loyalty and trust “to do together what neither can do alone.”

 

That is such an important distinction. Community is not simply a collection of individuals occupying the same space. Community is created when we recognize that there are things we can accomplish together that none of us can accomplish alone.

 

Rabbi Sacks points to the building of the Mishkan as one of the great examples. After leaving Egypt, the Israelites had largely been recipients: God parted the sea, provided manna and led them through the wilderness. Then came the Mishkan. Suddenly everyone was invited to contribute. Some brought materials. Some brought artistic talent. Some brought craftsmanship. Everyone had something to offer.

 

The challenge became an opportunity to become builders.

 

And perhaps that is the invitation before us as well.

 

At the Tucson J, there will always be challenges. Some will be financial. Some operational. Some will involve programs, facilities, staffing, or changing community needs. We should neither minimize those challenges nor fear them. Instead, we should ask:

 

What is this moment inviting us to build?

 

What can we learn?

 

What might we do differently?

 

Whose wisdom have we not yet heard?

 

And what becomes possible when we put our shoulders together and move forward as one community?

 

Stephen Sondheim captured something similar in Into the Woods with the beautiful reminder, No One is Alone Not because the journey is easy, but precisely because it isn’t. Difficult journeys remind us how much we need one another.

 

And the Israeli song Yachad gives us another simple but powerful image: yachad, lev el lev together, heart to heart.

 

That is how communities move through challenging moments.

 

Not by pretending difficulties do not exist.

 

Not by searching for someone to blame.

 

Not by retreating into our individual corners.

 

But by moving closer to one another.

 

Board members bringing wisdom and stewardship. Staff bringing talent, creativity, and extraordinary commitment. Volunteers bringing their time and passion. Donors providing generosity and possibility. Community members bringing their experiences, ideas, questions, and dreams.

 

Each of us brings something different. Together, we create something none of us could create alone.

 

Perhaps that is one of the great gifts hidden inside challenging moments: they remind us that we were never meant to do this work alone.

 

Our tradition calls us to be builders.

 

Our challenges give us something to build.

 

And our community gives us the strength to build it.

 

Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek  Be strong, be strong, and may we strengthen one another.

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.


Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavuah Tov 9 Elul 5786

Shavuah Tov

 

As we move through the month of Elul and look toward Rosh Hashanah, I find myself thinking about one of the most beautiful values in Jewish tradition: Hakarat HaTov the recognition of the good.

 

Hakarat HaTov is often translated simply as gratitude, but its meaning is deeper. It asks us not only to feel grateful, but to intentionally recognize the good to notice the people, moments, blessings, and acts of kindness that can too easily become part of the background of our lives.

 

Pirkei Avot asks:

 

“Eizehu ashir? HaSameach b’chelko.”
“Who is rich? One who rejoices in what they have.”
—Pirkei Avot 4:1

 

Gratitude begins with noticing. And when I look at the Tucson J and the community we are privileged to serve, there is so much good to recognize.

The project of building community is never the work of one person. It is best done shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand. I am grateful for the wisdom and leadership of our Board; for the extraordinary work, commitment, and heart of our staff; for the countless hours and talents shared by our volunteers; and for the incredible generosity of our donors and community partners.

 

Each of you helps make the Tucson J what we aspire for it to be: a town square where people gather, relationships are built, Jewish life flourishes, and everyone can find a place of belonging.

 

Psalm 92 teaches:

“Tov l’hodot laAdonai.”
“It is good to give thanks.”

 

Perhaps gratitude is described as good because it changes not only the person receiving our thanks, but also the person offering it. Hakarat HaTov trains us to see abundance rather than absence, possibility rather than limitation, and the contributions of others rather than simply our own efforts.

 

That feels particularly meaningful during Elul.

 

Elul is our season of cheshbon hanefesh, an accounting of the soul. As we prepare for Rosh Hashanah, we are invited to look backward and forward at the same time. We celebrate what went well, acknowledge what did not go as planned, and ask where we missed the mark. Most importantly, we ask what we have learned and how those lessons can help us return teshuvah to our best intentions and our best selves.

 

Hakarat HaTov does not require us to pretend that everything has been perfect. We can be grateful for all we have accomplished while remaining honest about the places where we can do better. We can learn from disappointment without being defined by it. And then we move forward with renewed passion and purpose.

 

During Elul, we hear the shofar each morning. Maimonides understood its call as a spiritual alarm: “Awake, you sleepers, from your sleep.”

 

The shofar asks us to pay attention.

 

Perhaps this year we can hear within its call two questions:

 

What am I being called to be thankful for?

 

And what am I being called to do?

 

Those questions belong to each of us individually, but they also belong to us collectively. Where are we being called to show up, to listen more carefully, to serve more deeply, to repair what needs repairing, and to build what has yet to be built?

 

The prayer Modeh Ani offers a powerful starting point. Before we begin the work of the day, Jewish tradition teaches us to begin with gratitude: Modeh ani lefanecha I give thanks before You. Imagine what might happen if we approached our communal work the same way: beginning with gratitude for one another and then asking what more we can accomplish together.

 

That spirit of possibility also brings to mind Stephen Sondheim’s Our Time  from Merrily We Roll Along. The song looks toward a future waiting to be created a future shaped by people willing to dream it and build it.

 

Elul asks us to look back, but Judaism never asks us to remain there. We look back so that we can learn and then move forward. We recognize our successes with gratitude, acknowledge our disappointments with humility, and carry the lessons of both into what comes next.

 

The Tucson J is here as your town square to serve you, bring us together, and help create more vibrant Jewish life and a stronger community. A town square becomes a community because of the people who fill it with their ideas, passion, generosity, relationships, and willingness to participate.

 

As the shofar calls us toward a new year, may we hear within it a call to gratitude, reflection, and action. May we recognize the good that surrounds us, learn from the moments when we missed the mark, and answer the call to build the future together.

 

Shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, this is our time and together, we can rise to great heights.

 

With deep gratitude for all that you do and excitement for all that lies ahead

 

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.

 

Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

 

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavuah Tov 2 Elul 5786

Shavuah Tov

 

As we welcome the Hebrew month of Elul, we enter a sacred season in the Jewish calendar. Elul is the final month of the year, a bridge between the year that is ending and the new year waiting just beyond the horizon. Jewish tradition invites us to use these weeks intentionally for introspection, for cheshbon hanefesh, an accounting of the soul, and for teshuvah, the work of returning, repairing, and beginning again.

 

I have always appreciated that our tradition gives us an entire month for this work. Elul is a gift. Rather than arriving at Rosh Hashanah and suddenly being asked to consider who we have been and who we hope to become, we are given time to prepare. We can look back honestly at the year that has passed, acknowledge where we have succeeded, recognize where we have missed the mark, and consider how what we have learned can create forward motion in the year ahead.

 

One of the beautiful teachings associated with Elul comes from Song of Songs 6:3:

 

Ani l’dodi v’dodi li, “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.”

 

The first Hebrew letters of these four words Aleph, Lamed, Vav, Lamed spell Elul. During this season, these words remind us that the work of reflection and teshuvah is deeply relational. We consider our relationships with one another, with ourselves, with our community, and with the Divine.

 

That idea feels particularly meaningful at the Tucson J.

 

As an organization, we too have an opportunity to engage in cheshbon hanefesh. We can ask ourselves: Where did we fulfill our mission particularly well this year? Where did we miss the mark? Whom did we welcome and engage? Who might still be standing at the edges of our community? How can we listen more deeply? And how can we better fulfill our goal of building and strengthening Jewish community and creating vibrant Jewish life?

 

Importantly, we cannot answer those questions alone.

 

We want to hear from you.

 

Once again, the Tucson J will participate in the JCC Association Benchmarking Project. In the coming weeks, you will receive a survey asking about your experiences, perspectives, and connection to the Tucson J. I hope you will take the time to complete it and share your thoughts with us.

 

Your feedback is an important part of our organizational cheshbon hanefesh. Listening to our community helps us understand what we are doing well, where we need to grow, and how we can continue becoming the Tucson J our community needs us to be. This is not simply about measuring where we have been. It is about learning from where we have been so that we can move forward with greater purpose.

 

Music often gives us another way to enter this season. Hashiveinu, asks that we be brought back so that we might return, and that our days might be renewed. That idea of return sits at the very heart of teshuvah. Elul asks us not simply to identify what we would change, but to consider what we want to return to our values, our relationships, our sense of purpose, and the people we aspire to be.

 

I also find myself thinking about Bob Dylan’s Forever Young. Written as a blessing, the song expresses hopes for wisdom, courage, integrity, joy, and a life grounded in what matters. There is something particularly appropriate about a blessing during Elul. Our accounting of the year is not only about asking where we fell short. It is also about asking who we hope to become.

Together, these songs capture something essential about this season: we return in order to renew, and we reflect in order to become.

 

As we prepare to enter a new year, what qualities do we hope to carry forward? What do we want for our children, our families, our community, and ourselves? What do we need to leave behind? And what choices will we make to help our hopes become reality?

 

Elul reminds us that reflection is not meant to leave us looking backward. We look back so that we can move forward with greater intention, wisdom, humility, and hope.

 

As each of us begins our own cheshbon hanefesh, may we have the courage to celebrate what was good, acknowledge where we missed the mark, seek repair where it is needed, and imagine what is possible in the year ahead.

 

And in the spirit of Hashiveinu and Forever Young, may we return to what matters most, remain open to learning and growth, stand firmly in our values, and continue to see the possibility and wonder around us.

 

I wish you and those you love a meaningful month of Elul. May our individual journeys of reflection strengthen our collective journey, and may the work we do together continue to create a Tucson Jewish community filled with belonging, connection, purpose, and vibrant Jewish life.4

 

Chodesh Tov,

 

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.

 

 Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

 

 

 

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

 

Shavuah Tov 25 Av 5786

Shavuah Tov,

 

At the Tucson J, we talk often about what we do: the programs we provide, the experiences we create, the partnerships we nurture, and the many ways large and small, we seek to strengthen our community.

 

But underneath all of that is a deeper question: What kind of community are we trying to create?

 

Our Service Pledge provides our answer:

 

We create community based on Jewish values by providing the highest quality programs and services in a safe and secure environment for all people of all ages.

 

Those words are more than a description of our work. They are a promise.

 

Our aspiration is to create a kehilah kedoshah a sacred community. A place that is sacred and special because people know they belong. A place where a child discovers confidence, an older adult finds connection, a family builds friendships, and someone walking through our doors for the first time discovers welcome. A place where people of different backgrounds, beliefs, abilities, identities, experiences, and generations encounter one another with dignity and care.

 

Jewish tradition teaches that holiness is created in relationship. In Exodus, as our ancestors prepare to build the Mishkan, God instructs:

 

“V’asu li mikdash, v’shachanti b’tocham.”


“Let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.”  Exodus 25:8

 

The text does not say that holiness will dwell simply in the sanctuary. It says b’tocham, among them.

 

Holiness lives between people.

 

That is the sacred space we seek to create at the Tucson J.

 

Another image from our tradition speaks powerfully to this aspiration. Each evening in Hashkiveinu, we ask God:

 

“Ufros aleinu sukkat shlomecha.”
“Spread over us a shelter of peace.”

 

I love that image for the Tucson J. A sukkah is open and welcoming, yet it surrounds those who enter. It reminds us that community can invite people in while providing safety, connection, and belonging. At a time when too many people experience isolation, uncertainty, and division, creating that kind of place matters.

 

Perhaps that is what it means to build a kehilah kedoshah: sacred community is the shelter we create for one another.

 

But no one builds that shelter alone.

 

Psalm 133 offers one of our tradition’s most beautiful expressions of this idea:

“Hineh mah tov u’mah na’im, shevet achim gam yachad.”


How good and pleasant it is when people dwell together in unity.

Yachad. Together.

 

That word captures something essential about the Tucson J. Community is not something one CEO, staff, board, donor, volunteer, or organization can create alone.

 

Community is built b’yachad.

 

Our professional staff bring talent, compassion, and commitment. Our board and volunteer leaders bring wisdom, stewardship, and vision. Our donors transform possibilities into realities. Our community partners expand our reach and remind us that collaboration allows us to accomplish what none of us could accomplish alone. And every person who enters the Tucson J contributes to the community we are becoming.

 

The American musical theater canon expresses a similar idea in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel: You’ll Never Walk Alone

 

That promise resonates deeply with what community can mean. Sometimes community means celebrating, learning, swimming, exercising, playing, singing, or gathering around a table. And sometimes it simply means knowing that when life becomes difficult, someone will walk beside us.

 

That is what we aspire to be for one another: a shelter of peace, a community that walks together, a kehilah kedoshah.

 

Achieving that aspiration requires intention. It requires excellence in our programs and services, an unwavering commitment to safety and security, genuine welcome, and continually asking whether every person who comes through our doors can see themselves as part of this community.

Our Service Pledge holds us accountable to that work.

 

To our staff, thank you for bringing this promise to life each day. To our board and volunteer leaders, thank you for your wisdom and leadership. To our donors, thank you for investing in people, relationships, and belonging. To our community leaders and partners, thank you for recognizing that our greatest opportunities are best addressed together.

 

Kehilah is not something we simply join. It is something we create.

We create it when we welcome someone, learn another person’s story, choose partnership, show up for someone who needs us, and recognize that our lives and futures are connected.

 

We create it b’yachad, together.

 

May the Tucson J continue to be a kehilah kedoshah, rooted in Jewish values and open to all. May we spread a sukkat shalom, a shelter of peace, over all who enter our doors. May we continue to walk beside one another.

 

And may we never forget that sacred community can only be built the way community has always been built:

B’yachad. Together.

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.


Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavuah Tov 11 Av 5786

Shavuah Tov

 

Tomorrow, thousands of Jewish teens from across North America, Israel, and around the world will arrive in Toronto and Kansas City for the opening of the 2026 JCC Maccabi Games + Access. They will come from different communities, traditions, and backgrounds, yet for one remarkable week they will discover something much greater than themselves they will experience what it means to be part of one Jewish people.

 

Here in Tucson, we understand that gift perhaps better than most. Just one year ago, we had the privilege of welcoming the Jewish world as hosts of the 2025 JCC Maccabi Games + Access. We watched strangers become lifelong friends. We saw competition inspire compassion, inclusion, and belonging. We witnessed Jewish identity strengthened not only through ceremonies and celebrations, but around Shabbat tables, on playing fields, in host homes, and through countless acts of kindness. While medals are awarded at the end of the week, the true victories are measured in relationships, confidence, Jewish pride, and a deeper sense of connection.

 

At the Tucson J, Amiut Yehudit, Jewish Peoplehood is at the heart of our mission. Our service pledge reminds us that we create community based on Jewish values by providing the highest quality programs and services in a safe and secure environment for all people of all ages. The JCC Maccabi Games are a living expression of that promise. They remind us that Jewish community is built not by where we live or how we practice, but by our commitment to one another.

 

Jewish educator Avraham Infeld teaches that Judaism is more than a religion it is membership in an extended family whose story stretches across generations. We inherit that story, we add our own chapter, and we pass it to those who follow. The JCC Maccabi Games invite our teens to discover that they are part of that remarkable global Jewish family.

 

The Torah teaches:

 

“You are standing today, all of you, before the Lord your God…your leaders, your elders, your children…everyone in Israel.” (Deuteronomy 29:9–10).

 

Before entering the Land of Israel, Moses gathered every generation together. The covenant belonged to everyone. Jewish peoplehood has always rested on the belief that every individual matters and every generation has a role to play.

 

The Talmud reinforces this with the timeless teaching, “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh”—”All Israel is responsible for one another.” (Shevuot 39a).

 

Responsibility is more than obligation; it is relationship. It means caring for one another, celebrating together, and ensuring that no one journeys alone. That is precisely what happens during the JCC Maccabi Games, where friendships transcend borders and strengthen the fabric of the Jewish people.

 

This week’s Hebrew soundtrack could well be Yad B’Yad (“Hand in Hand”), a contemporary Israeli song that beautifully captures the spirit of the Games. Its message reminds us that our greatest accomplishments come when we move forward together. Young Jews arrive as individuals, but they leave as members of one extended Jewish family, carrying friendships and memories that will last a lifetime.

 

The Broadway classic Children will Listen from Into the Woods offers another fitting reminder. The values we model become the values our young people carry into the future. Every welcoming smile, every host family, every volunteer, every act of sportsmanship, and every shared Shabbat experience teaches our teens what Jewish community can and should be.

 

As our friends in Toronto and Kansas City begin this extraordinary week, we send them our blessings and gratitude. We know firsthand that lives will be changed, friendships will be forged, and future Jewish leaders will emerge.

At the Tucson J, our work is guided by two enduring commitments:

  • To create more vibrant Jewish life.
  • To build greater Jewish community.

The JCC Maccabi Games + Access fulfill all three. They bring Judaism to life through joyful experiences and meaningful relationships. They connect young Jews across continents, reminding us that we are one people with a shared past, present, and future. And they produce lasting outcomes, as participants return home with greater Jewish pride, stronger connections to Israel and the Jewish people, lifelong friendships, and the confidence to lead.

 

Those of us who experienced the magic of Tucson 2025 know that the impact of these Games cannot be measured solely by medals won or records broken. It is measured in the host family that becomes family forever, the athlete who discovers a deeper connection to Jewish life, the volunteer whose own identity is renewed through service, and the friendships that span oceans and generations.

 

As we celebrate the opening of the 2026 JCC Maccabi Games + Access, may we remember that while the competitions last only a week, their impact lasts a lifetime. Every athlete, volunteer, coach, host family, donor, and supporter helps write the next chapter of our people’s story.

 

May this year’s Games strengthen the bonds of Amiut Yehudit, inspire a new generation of Jewish leaders, and remind us all that when we move yad b’yad hand in hand there is no limit to what the Jewish people can accomplish together.

 

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.

 

Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavuah Tov 11 Av 5786

Shavua Tov

Before the destruction of the Second Temple, our tradition teaches that Jerusalem was not defeated by a lack of strength or wisdom, but by sinat chinam, baseless hatred. Last week, as we prepared for and observed Tisha B’Av, I reflected on Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook’s profound teaching that if the Temple was destroyed because of sinat chinam, then it will one day be rebuilt through ahavat chinam baseless love.

 

This Tuesday evening, our calendar offers us a remarkable spiritual transition as we welcome Tu B’Av, often called the Jewish Day of Love. The placement of these two observances is no accident. Judaism does not leave us in mourning. It insists that after we acknowledge brokenness, we begin the work of healing. After remembering what hatred can destroy, we recommit ourselves to what love can build.

 

The Torah expresses this calling in words that have echoed through the generations:

 

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the Lord.” (Leviticus 19:18)

 

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z”l taught that love in Judaism is not merely an emotion but an act of responsibility. Communities are sustained not simply because people care about one another, but because they choose, day after day, to care for one another. Love becomes visible through kindness, generosity, forgiveness, and the willingness to see the Divine image in every person.

 

That is precisely what I have the privilege of witnessing each day at the Tucson J.

 

I see it in our early childhood educators who greet children with warmth and patience. I see it in Camp J counselors who create friendships that campers will remember for a lifetime. I see it in conversations around our Healthy Aging programs, on the tennis courts, in the fitness center, at the pool, in our arts and cultural programs, and in the countless acts of welcome that take place throughout our campus. Every smile at the front desk, every volunteer who gives their time, every donor who invests in our mission, every staff member who goes the extra mile is helping to build something far greater than a building. Together, we are building community.

 

The beautiful prayer Ahavat Olam (Everlasting Love) reminds us that God’s love is constant, enduring, and unconditional. As we sing of God’s everlasting love for us, we are challenged to reflect that same enduring love in our relationships with one another. The more we extend patience, compassion, generosity, and grace, the more we become partners in bringing holiness into our world.

 

The Beatles famously sang All You Need is Love. While we know that communities also require hard work, courage, accountability, and sacrifice, there is profound wisdom in that simple refrain. Love remains the force that gives purpose to all those efforts. Without it, institutions become transactional. With it, they become transformational.

 

In a different musical voice, Adele’s Make You Feel My Love speaks to the quiet power of steadfast presence the willingness to stand beside another person through joy and hardship alike. That, too, is a beautiful expression of ahavat chinam: choosing to accompany one another, especially when it would be easier to walk away. Caissie Levy created a beautiful mash up of these Two Songs

 

Perhaps that is the invitation of Tu B’Av. Not simply to celebrate love, but to practice it intentionally. To offer the benefit of the doubt. To listen before judging. To forgive more quickly. To reach out to someone who may be feeling isolated. To welcome someone new into our circle. To disagree with respect while never forgetting our shared humanity.

 

At the Tucson J, we often say that we are the town square of our community, where everyone belongs and some people choose to join. That vision only becomes reality when each of us accepts the responsibility to create a culture of ahavat chinam one conversation, one relationship, and one act of kindness at a time.

 

As we celebrate Tu B’Av this week, may we each find new opportunities to fulfill the timeless commandment to “love your neighbor as yourself.” May we choose love over cynicism, compassion over judgment, understanding over division, and hope over despair.

 

And in doing so, may we continue the sacred work that Rabbi Kook envisioned: rebuilding our communities and perhaps, one day, rebuilding the world itself through the quiet, extraordinary power of ahavat chinam.

 

 

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.

 

 Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

 

 

 

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavua Tov 4 Av 5786

Shavua Tov

This coming Wednesday evening and Thursday, the Jewish people will observe Tisha B’Av, the day of mourning that commemorates the destruction of both the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem. It is one of the most solemn days on the Jewish calendar, inviting us not only to remember our past, but to reflect honestly on the kind of people and community we aspire to become.

 

The Talmud offers a profound and challenging teaching. In Yoma 9b, our sages ask why the Second Temple was destroyed. Their answer is both timeless and deeply relevant: sinat chinam, baseless hatred. They teach that it was not simply external enemies that led to destruction, but internal division, factionalism, and the inability to recognize the dignity and humanity of one another. It is a sobering reminder that communities are often weakened not only by the challenges they face from outside, but by the fractures that emerge within.

 

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook offered the antidote. If the Temple was destroyed through sinat chinam, then it will ultimately be rebuilt through ahavat chinam, baseless love. Love that is offered freely. Respect that is extended even in disagreement. Compassion that is rooted in the understanding that every person is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God.

 

This idea speaks directly to one of the defining principles of Jewish Peoplehood. We are one people, bound together across continents, denominations, generations, and perspectives. Our strength has never come from thinking alike. Rather, it comes from recognizing that we belong to one another. As our tradition teaches, “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh” All Israel is responsible for one another (Shevuot 39a).

 

How blessed we are to experience that reality here in Tucson.

Our Jewish community is enriched by remarkable synagogues, agencies, schools, organizations, and countless homes where Jewish life is nurtured each day. We share a deep connection with our brothers and sisters in Israel, throughout North America, and across the Jewish world. Each institution, congregation, and family contributes something unique to the extraordinary tapestry of Jewish life we are privileged to call our own.

 

At the Tucson J, we are honored to help strengthen those bonds every day. Our mission is to help create greater Jewish community and more vibrant Jewish life by bringing people together across differences, fostering relationships, and creating spaces where everyone belongs. We often speak of the idea that we can be unified without being uniform. Tisha B’Av reminds us why that aspiration is so essential. Unity does not require unanimity. It requires humility, empathy, curiosity, and an abiding commitment to one another.

 

The enduring Israeli song Shir LaShalom reminds us that peace is not something we simply wait for it is something we choose to build through our words, our actions, and our willingness to see one another as partners in a shared future. That message resonates deeply with the call of Tisha B’Av. Likewise, Pete Seeger’s beloved American folk song Turn, Turn, Turn, drawing its words from the Book of Kohelet, reminds us that every season has its purpose “a time to weep, and a time to laugh… a time to break down, and a time to build up.” Tisha B’Av invites us into a season of remembrance, not so that we remain in mourning, but so that we recommit ourselves to rebuilding our communities with compassion, understanding, and ahavat chinam love freely given.

 

As we prepare to observe Tisha B’Av, may we honor the lessons of our past by choosing a different path for our future. May we reject the dangers of sinat chinam and embrace the promise of ahavat chinam. May we continue to strengthen the bonds of Jewish Peoplehood, deepen our commitment to one another, and work together to build communities worthy of the dreams of those who came before us.

 

May this Tisha B’Av inspire us to rebuild not only walls of stone, but bridges of understanding, compassion, and love.

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.


Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J 

Shavua Tov 26 Tamuz 5786

Shavua Tov

As Shabbat has now ended and we look ahead to a new week, we also arrive at one of Judaism’s beautiful moments of transition. This morning we read the double Torah portion of Matot–Masei, bringing the Book of Bamidbar (Numbers) to its conclusion. Next week we begin Devarim (Deuteronomy), the final book of the Torah, where Moses pauses to reflect on the Israelites’ journey before preparing them for the future that awaits.

 

These transitions are woven throughout Jewish life. They remind us to pause, to look back with gratitude, and to look ahead with hope.

 

Each time we complete a book of the Torah, congregations around the world proclaim:

 

חֲזַק חֲזַק וְנִתְחַזֵּק — Chazak, Chazak, v’nitchazek.


Be strong, be strong, and may we be strengthened.

 

Those words remind us that every ending is also a beginning, and that every conclusion carries within it the promise of another chapter waiting to be written.

 

The Ba’al Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, offered a profound image for these moments. He taught that living is like climbing a ladder. To reach the next rung, one must accept a brief moment when one foot has left the rung below while the other has not yet reached the one above. For an instant, we are suspended between what has been and what will be. That feeling of instability is not a sign that we are lost it is often the very evidence that we are growing.

 

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z”l beautifully observed:

 

“Faith is the courage to live with uncertainty.”

 

Those words remind us that our confidence does not come from knowing every step before we take it. Rather, it comes from trusting our values, our purpose, and the people who walk beside us.

 

Rabbi Nachman of Breslov expressed this same truth in words that have become one of Judaism’s most beloved songs: Kol Ha’oalm Kulo, Gesher Tzar Me’od v’ha’ikar lo lefached klal “The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the essential thing is not to be afraid.” There is a beautiful connection between Rabbi Nachman’s narrow bridge and the Ba’al Shem Tov’s ladder.

 

Both remind us that growth requires movement. We cannot remain firmly planted where we are and still expect to arrive somewhere new. Faith is found in taking the next step, even when we cannot yet see the entire path.

 

Tomorrow afternoon, the first half of the Major League Baseball season comes to a close before the All-Star break. That pause is more than a few days away from the game. It is an opportunity for players, coaches, and organizations to reflect on what has gone well, honestly assess what needs improvement, and prepare intentionally for the second half of the season. Life offers us similar pauses not as interruptions, but as invitations to become stronger.

 

Here at the Tucson J, we find ourselves in one of those meaningful moments. We celebrate the remarkable work taking place throughout our community while thoughtfully preparing for what comes next. Like the Israelites standing on the threshold between the wilderness and the Promised Land, we honor the journey that has brought us here while embracing the possibilities that lie ahead.

 

This week’s Torah reading also reminds me of one of my favorite Broadway songs, Corner of the Sky from Pippin. The song speaks of searching for “a spot to begin” and believing that each of us has “a corner of the sky” where we are meant to contribute, grow, and make a difference. Our Jewish tradition teaches something similar. We are each called to keep climbing, to keep learning, and to keep moving toward the place where our unique gifts can strengthen our community and help repair our world.

 

As Shabbat comes to a close and prepare to begin a new book of Torah next week, may we embrace these moments of transition with confidence and humility. May we have the courage to cross the narrow bridge, the faith to climb to the next rung, and the wisdom to discover our own corner of the sky.

 

Chazak, Chazak, v’nitchazek.


May we be strengthened by one another, inspired by our tradition, and filled with hope as we continue this journey together.

Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.


Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי

Todd Rockoff

President + CEO, Tucson J