For much of the past year, I have served as one of the Programming Co-Chairs for the ARJE Annual Gathering, a national conference that brings together Reform Jewish educators and presenters from across the country to learn, connect, and grow as one community. Each year, the conference location is chosen with intentionality, ensuring that it is held in a state where all participants can access care and feel safe and supported, regardless of gender, race, and/or identity. And that is how I find myself traveling to Minneapolis, Minnesota, this Sunday morning.
In this week's Torah portion, B'shalach, the Hebrew people arrive at the Sea unsure of what lies ahead, only to witness it split before them, creating a path forward. They move with faith that things will ultimately work out, even without knowing what obstacles await on the other side. And yet, even as they march with timbrels toward a newfound sense of safety, voices within the community turn to fear and complaint, struggling with the uncertainty of what comes next.
On a call with the ARJE Executive Director last week, we were reminded that situations in Minneapolis are constantly being monitored, that important conversations about our safety are ongoing, and that—despite careful planning—there is ultimately no way to know what the coming days will bring. Planning a conference while following the news out of Minneapolis has surfaced a number of complexities for me.
In the midst of organizing a gathering that strives toward inclusivity, learning, and community, I find myself traveling to a city experiencing real tension and uncertainty. These moments raise questions many of us are holding right now—about safety, justice, and human dignity—and about how we show up for one another when emotions are mixed and the path forward is not entirely clear. And yet, like the Israelites in B'shalach, we continue to move forward together, carrying both our concerns and our hope, choosing connection and community even in moments of disruption.
During a recent call with the conference planning team, I asked what we might do to support the Jewish community of Minneapolis, and the broader community as well, knowing that our time will largely be spent together in one place. The response shared with us—relayed from local congregational leaders—was simple and meaningful: listen. Invite local participants to share their stories. Ask the people working at the hotel how they are doing. Carry those stories with us, and bring them back to our own communities. I plan to do just that upon my return.
Each year, we retell the story of our journey out of Egypt, passing it from generation to generation. This week's Torah portion marks one of the great turning points in our people's story. Stories are powerful—but their impact depends on our willingness to listen, to hold them with care, and to share them forward. My hope is that we continue to stay informed, to come together with intention, and—perhaps most importantly—to never stop listening to and sharing the stories of others.
Shabbat Shalom,
Matt Rissien