Some years ago, there was a British TV show my mother just adored. It aired in the U.S. under the title, “Are You Being Served?” It centered around the employees at an English department store. It had quite the cast of characters. If a customer came in, they would greet them with the title words of the show, “Are you being served?”

As I thought back to that show, and those words, I wondered how they apply to our congregation? Is it a congregation, or is it truly a community? Are you being served? When a hospitalization looms on the horizon, do we know about it? Do we respond properly to it? When a loved one passes away, are we, as a community, able to respond in some fashion? When a divorce dissolves a marriage, is the congregation made into a wellspring of comfort and understanding?

Several years ago I instituted a particular response to one situation of this sort. A member of the congregation lost a parent who lived out of town. The funeral was not here in Santa Fe. Shivah was going to be observed where the parent (and more of the family) had lived. I felt, as the rabbi, cut off from the normal channels of providing comfort at a time of bereavement. Fortunately, I was able to determine where shivah would take place. I had a basket of fruit sent to the family on behalf of the Board of Temple Beth Shalom. I hoped that it would provide at least some sense of connection between the mourners and their home congregation, a tangible symbol that we had taken notice of the shadow that had fallen on the life of our friend. I attempt to do this every time that someone has to go out of town for the funeral of a close relative. I also offer the possibility of doing a memorial service (or a celebration of the life of the departed) after shivah back here in Santa Fe. It allows friends to gather and offer their presence as a condolence.

There is however one essential thing required for any of this to take place. Someone has to tell us about the bereavement and give us contact information. It goes beyond just the fruit basket. While there are many wonderful, sensitive, capable rabbis in the world, all of them can use a little help along the way. There are pointers that I can give the mourners to help them deal with the grieving process in the most effective way. Again, this can only happen if we are kept informed. And, on a personal level, please allow me to be clear. I would rather be told five times about something I already know, than not at all.

We may not be able to meet everyone’s needs to perfection, but we should be able to answer the question, “Are you being served?” in a positive fashion. Allow us to serve you by rejoicing with you when a baby is born. Allow us to serve you by visiting to break the monotony of a hospitalization. Allow us to serve you by forming a minyan for Kaddish so that you can move through the grieving process. Allow us to let you know that you are not alone in the world when it seems dark and isolating. These are some of the ways in which we transform our congregation and allow it to become a Kehilla Kedusha, a holy gathering.
For me, that is exactly what this congregation is. It is a community of caring, concern and healing. Temple Beth Shalom is a Kehilla Kedusha because of the actions of its members. Those who were present as I observed shivah for my mother, those who sent cards, those who sent e-mails and those who called all eased the burden of my mourning. I am so grateful for all the expressions of comfort that have come to me and to Janet. I can answer unequivocally that I have been served. It is the sacred task of this congregation to make every member feel that way in a time of need or in a time of celebration. Let us work together to cry with each other when when appropriate and celebrate with each other when opportunities present themselves.