The Significance of Room # 375

Personally, I'm not so into "Gematria" which is a fascinating and technical method of studying Torah using numerical equivalents of Hebrew letters. But if you were to simply spell "375" in Hebrew letters you would get the word "Sha'ah" which means both hour and turn.

Our getting together as a community happen once a week (whether at Shabbos House or at Hillel) for an hour or two on Friday Nights. Some may think little of it, how important can one hour a week be anyways? This is the message of Room 375 which spells Sha'ah or hour in Hebrew. One hour together as a community, doing a Mitzvah, celebrating Shabbat - this is powerful!

Sha'ah can also mean a turn. And that's relevant here as well, because it symbolizes the good turns and positive changes that have come from these Shabbat dinners together. May this year of Shabbat celebrations and Jewish life at UAlbany turn out to be as wonderful as the years before, and continue the pattern of growth.
 

Jack Lauber's Mysterious Shofar Story

Jack Lauber, from Schenectady NY, worked for years as a scientist/engineer for NYS Department of Environmental Conservation. He was an advocate for safe waste-to-energy possibilities. His passion however was Zionism. He was a tireless activist and advocate for Israel, in the media, in the community, and was steadfast and unwavering in his dedication to Israel and the Jewish people. If he got to know you or of you, you might have become the recipient of dozens of monthly emails relating to Israel.

One Sunday in August Jack Lauber met Rabbi Israel Rubin at the Shalom Festival in Saratoga's Congress Park. Jack was there with his wife Ruth, his son and daughter-in-law and grandchild. Jack liked to get out to Jewish events in the community. More than once during the festival he went over to Rabbi Rubin and told him that he very much wanted to tell him the story of "The Mysterious Shofar." It was a busy afternoon for Rabbi Rubin, but finally, before leaving the park, Jack sat Rabbi Rubin down and told him the story.

Some years earlier he was in Boston for a medical check-up/opinion. It was during Passover, and the weather was nice, so in between appointments, Jack and his wife Ruth sat down in a Boston park near the hospital. It so happens that this park had a Holocaust Memorial Garden, so that's where they went. Some time later, a bearded Israeli stopped by where they were sitting. He asked them if they wanted to hear him blow the Shofar. The Laubers were surprised since it was Passover, not Rosh-Hashanah. So they asked, "Where will we get a Shofar this time of year?" The man pulled out a Shofar from his backpack and blew a number of notes and then walked off into the park. And that's the last they heard of him.

A few days after the Shalom Festival, Jack suffered a massive stroke and a few days after that, he passed away. Rabbi Rubin suddenly felt more urgency to the unusual story Jack insisted on telling him one week prior. What's the message? What do we learn from a Shofar blown on Passover?

At Jack's funeral, Rabbi Rubin shared this story. He also shared the following insight/interpretation to this bizarre story, and Jack's insistence that he tell it to Rabbi Rubin just before his passing: Jack was the Shofar! Jack's whole life was a series of sounding off about the things he was most passionate about. Like a shofar, he publicly broadcasted innermost things that many of us feel deep within ourselves, but don't always find the courage or articulation to share with others.

I'm telling this story tonight because this week was Jack's funeral. It's one way to honor his memory. It's also a great message for Jewish students entering a new year of campus life at UAlbany. Often, we're afraid to publicly share or display matters of Jewishness or Jewish pride. Some of us do so happily and proudly, and when done with sensitivity and thoughtfulness, are even respected for it by non-Jews around us. Like Jack and the Shofar, let's share what's innermost within, and not bury it deep inside ourselves.