You Can Do It Steve; You can Do It

That's one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind," so said Astronaut Neil Armstrong as he stepped out of his space ship and tentatively placed his foot on the service of the moon on July 20, 1969. For those of us over 50 years of age, that is a moment in time etched in our memories forever. We know exactly where we were, what we were doing and whom we were with.

While not as significant or dramatic as the first foot on the moon, I had a similar feeling recently when I stepped up to the bema in the brand new Chabad of Delaware Shul. Long ago I had promised my friend and mentor Rabbi Chuni Vogel that when the new Shul was finally built I would chant my bar mitzvah Haftorah on that very bema. And so it was on Saturday, June 14, 2008, on the 41st anniversary of my bar mitzvah, I fulfilled that commitment.

My personal journey to the Delaware bema began in 1996 when I accepted an invitation from the Vogels to join them for Shabbos dinner. After munching on the best potato Kugel this side of Jerusalem, the rest as the saying goes, was history. I left Delaware in 1998 but I never lost touch with Rabbi Vogel. As my life journey took me to Oregon and then on to Nevada I continued to learn and push myself to do more Torah Mitzvot. As the years passed I pushed myself to become more adept at reading Hebrew so I could keep up in the Minyons, I learned many of the nuisances of Judaism that had previously mystified me and I became a more committed member of the Jewish communities in which we lived.

As the next 10 years unfolded I regularly practiced my Haftorah, BeHa'alotecha, gaining more and more confidence along the way. But no matter how much I practiced, the tune, oh that elusive tune, just never resonated with me. Sometimes on one of my walks through the majestic Sierra Nevada Mountains I sounded like a real Chazzan as I chanted the words while listening to Rabbi Vogel’s melodic voice on my IPOD. Yet every time I turned the IPOD off, the tune evaded me.

About three months before I was to chant my Haftorah in Delaware I had a dream. In the dream I was standing at a Shabbos table holding my Great Grandfather Charles Cooper’s Kiddush cup. As the wine spilled over the sides I chanted the ancient Kiddush blessing. It was one of those wonderful dreams where for a few short moments after opening your eyes you almost believe it was real. I was so moved that I decided to start calling my relatives to find out if anyone still had Great Grandpa Charlie’s Kiddush cup. This turned out to be a daunting task because Great Grandpa had been gone for more than 33 years. As I spoke with relative after relative the flame of hope began to fade. Finally, I spoke with my Aunt Vicki and she informed me that while she did not have his Kiddush cup, she did have several of his prayer books. After begging her to part with them she finally gave in to my pleas and sent them to me. Among the collection was a worn, coverless, dog eared book, about six inches thick. Upon closer examination I realized it was Great Grandpa’s Tanach. As I tenderly turned the pages, they felt like they’d disintegrate if improperly handled, I suddenly discovered my Haftorah!

At that moment I knew that Hashem had a different plan for me. I might not be able to make Kiddush with Great Grandpa’s Kiddush cup but I could chant my Haftorah out of his book. But before I could do that I knew I had to restore this treasured link to my Great Grandpa. After an exhaustive search I finally settled on a bookbinder that appeared to have an affinity for old books and possessed some knowledge of Yiddishkeit. Wrapping the book in enough bubble wrap to protect the Space Shuttle, I sent it off to the bookbinder. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. But finally one day I heard the doorbell ring and when I opened the door the UPS man handed me The Box!

With trembling hands I opened the box and began to carefully peel away each layer of bubble wrap. As I pulled away the last piece I observed the most beautiful book I’d ever seen. There lying in front of me were the pages of my Great Grandpa’s ancient book covered in deep chocolate brown leather with the words ‘Charles Cooper’s Tanach’ in gold lettering. As tiny tears of joy leaked from my eyes and slowly ebbed their way down my cheeks in small rivulets, I turned to beginning of my Haftorah. While the pages were faded and the notes on the words were difficult to read, I couldn’t help but marvel how glorious it was going to be to read my Haftorah from this glorious family treasure!

As I boarded United Airlines flight 188 bound for Philadelphia I knew that no matter how my Haftorah sounded I was going to do it with the spirit of Great Grandpa Charlie in my corner. Armed with that confidence I settled back into my aisle seat, put on my IPOD headphones, listened to the digitized voice of Rabbi Vogel and relaxed as my plane raced through the cloudless cobalt-blue sky.

When I finally arrived in Wilmington I was greeted with the worst heat wave they’d seen in years. The temperature hovered around a wilting 95 degrees and the humidity felt even worse. As I walked through the front doors of the magnificent new Shul, Rabbi Vogel greeted me with a joyous bear hug. After spending a few minutes touring the facility he brought me into the sanctuary so he could listen to me as I practiced my Haftorah. About midway through the practice session I was distracted by some movement on my left. It was then that I noticed a number of vehicles pulling into the front parking lot. To my astonishment I noticed what appeared to be a large number of esteemed Rabbis making their way into the Shul. All the while I keep thinking, “Please, please, please let them be stopping for directions to Philadelphia.” But nooooo, they were here for a wedding on Sunday and all of them, each and every one of them, would be joining us in Shul on Shabbos. The same Shabbos I’d be chanting my Haftorah.

I looked at Rabbi Vogel and asked him why he didn’t tell me. He replied with a chuckle that if he’d told me I’d have remained in Reno. With a deep sigh I admitted to myself that he was right and returned to the task at hand. Finally it was time to prepare for the arrival of Shabbos and practice came to a close. As I slowly closed Great Grandpa Charlie’s book I figured I was as ready as I’d ever be.

That evening I sat with the Rabbis munching on delectable delights, all the while doing my best to keep my panic to a minimum. “You can do this Steve, you can do this,” I kept telling myself. When Shabbos dinner was over and I finally laid my head on the pillow, I said a quiet prayer and drifted off to sleep. Surprisingly, I slept great and awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and enthusiastic.

Walking to Shul with my host and friend Doctor Michael Sugarman and his sons, I felt relaxed and at peace. During the course of the morning service I wrestled with alternating bouts of great confidence and high anxiety. It was tough enough to think about chanting my Haftorah in front of my friends, but in front of all these knowledgeable, experienced Rabbis? Oy Vey!

Finally I heard Rabbi Vogel call out my Hebrew name. As I put one foot on the bema I felt like I was taking one small step for me and one giant leap for my family. As I stood on the bema watching two members of the congregation place the cover on the Torah Rabbi Vogel whispered in my ear, “Shlomo Yakov this is your moment. Great Grandpa Charlie is with us, I am with you and everyone here loves you. Don’t hold back, have confidence, this is a moment you will remember forever!”

With his motivational words still resonating in my head I chanted the first blessing. My voice was a little shaky but the tune wasn’t bad. As I opened Great Grandpa Charlie’s Tanach to the appropriate page I felt a surge of additional confidence flow through my body. As the words and tune poured from my mouth I heard Rabbi Vogel humming the tune. Realizing that I had my “Human IPOD” on one side, the spirit of my beloved Great Grandpa on the other side and the glory of Hashem all around me, I pressed on. How did I do? You will have to ask those in attendance but let me say this; I’ve never had more fun or felt more alive than I did during those 14 minutes on the bema. When I finally stepped down, with Great Grandpa’s Tanach firmly in hand, I knew in my heart that these Chabad Rabbis and Rebbetzins commit their entire lives to their fellow Jews, Jews just like me who need help navigating their respective spiritual journeys through life. Their selfless love and support of their fellow Jews enable us to achieve levels we never thought possible. As I sat down in my chair a smile appeared on my face that simply refused to go away. Rabbi Vogel had helped me overcome my insecurities, push myself to new heights and reconnect with the spiritual flame of my departed Great Grandpa.

As I made my way to the afternoon Kiddush I knew that somewhere in heaven the Neshoma of Charles Cooper was smiling down upon me as he proudly told his beloved wife of 70 plus years, Lena Cooper, “That’s our boy down there, that is our Great Grandson, but Oy Veh he must have gotten his singing voice from your side of the family!”