Tifereth Israel

06/17/2026

Rabbi Hillel and Paige had the BEST day today visiting !!

We got to eat lunch together, hear about swimming and electives, and read our fortune cookies.

It's so amazing to see our awesome kids in being in such a fun and engaging environment!

06/16/2026

Finishing the Book of Joshua

06/12/2026

06/09/2026

Perek Yomi - Joshua 16-20

06/05/2026

Alex and I arrived at Tifereth in late July 2016, just a few weeks after our wedding and my ordination. We were also right on the heels of our honeymoon in Portugal, so I liked to joke that our second honeymoon was in Central Ohio. We had a sense, then, that we were setting off on an adventure — neither of us had ever been to Columbus before our interview weekend, and we had no family or strong connections in the state. Now, ten years later, this community feels like our home even as we prepare to move away. We’ve built what feels like lifelong roots here.

Still, even after acquiring a dog, a mortgage, and two children — even with a decade of rabbinic service under my belt … even with long periods of stability and structure amidst the tumult of our world — I’ve always imagined that we were still on that grand adventure, still journeying on an uncharted path toward an uncertain destination. In my spiritual life, my teaching and study, my prayer and conversations, I’ve always felt that I was exploring alongside you all, trying to figure out how to live with integrity and ascertain what God wants of us in each moment. For me, the right approach — to Torah, to difficult moments and questions — has always been curiosity rather than certainty.

This is the same idea taught by Kalonymous Kalman Epstein, the early 19th-century Polish rebbe and mystic who saw Abraham’s calling — Lekh lekha, “go-you-forth” — as an invitation to continued exploration and openness. Though Abraham thought he had reached a deep understanding of God by discovering monotheism and shattering his father’s idols, God’s call to journey forth was actually a call to deeper humility. “In truth,” Epstein writes, “he was only at the gateway.”

As I stand at my own gateway for my family’s own Lekh Lekha journey, back to the city and community I called home before Columbus, I feel a similar mix of feelings. On the one hand, I feel immense pride at the many things I’ve helped build over the past decade, the experience and wisdom I’ve earned, and the way I feel so much more seasoned as a rabbi than I did in 2016. And on the other hand, I still feel like I’m standing at that gateway, having barely even moved toward it, much less through it. I feel like I’ve gained far more from our congregation than I’ve given, and that I’m entering into a completely new adventure, not yet knowing what it will look like.

My sense is that Tifereth Israel is also similarly poised between a well-deserved sense of pride on the one hand, and a sense of unknowing and open curiosity about the future on the other. With 125 years of history, this community stands at a moment of incredible strength. We’ve grown and changed in amazing ways over the past ten years, weathering challenges and emerging with renewed commitment to each other and to Jewish life. And at the same time, this community also stands at a gateway, not knowing exactly what tomorrow will bring.

Epstein’s solution for this is that Lekh Lekha — “go-you-forth” — is a call to go both outward and inward, “go-forth-into-yourself.” It’s there, inside, that you will find both humility and also your soul’s Root, its source in God. I’m trying to live this literal “going forth” moment in both ways — outward and inward. And I know that this community is well equipped, too — in your own souls, and in its leadership — to move forward and inward at the same time.

With immense gratitude and bittersweet joy in this poignant moment, I know that our journeys will remain forever connected, even as our paths diverge.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Alex Braver

06/02/2026

Perek Yomi - Joshua 11-16

05/29/2026

In April of 2018, when Sharon and I came for our weekend visit to Columbus as part of the rabbinic interview process, perhaps our most important stop outside of Congregation Tifereth Israel was the Columbus Jewish Day School. I vividly remember walking in the doors and being greeted by the then Head of School, Rabbi Dr. Tali Zelkowicz, who looked at us and said: “I don’t know which of you to hug first.” By the time we finished our tour, not only were we in love with the school, but Sharon had also been offered a job teaching there. The rest, as they say, is history - I was offered the job at Tifereth, Sharon took the job at CJDS, and taught second-grade Judaica that first year here. Since our first days here in Columbus, we have always had at least one child enrolled in the school, and the CJDS community has hugged and embraced us in exactly the same way that Tali did when we first walked in the doors.

Somehow, eight years have flown by, and this past Wednesday evening, Hadar and her fellow 5th graders officially became graduates of CJDS. During the beautiful and moving graduation ceremony, each student spoke of their experience and what the school has meant to them. One of Hadar’s classmates, Seth Berman (if the name sounds familiar to the Tifereth family, it should :) ), calculated the number of hours his family spent driving him to and from school and then from school to work and back to pickup. I believe the tally was around 90 days' worth of driving to get Seth to school each day over the past years. Seth reflected that there must be something really amazing about this school to have spent all that time getting him there and back.

He could not be more correct. Each of our children was nurtured, cared for, taught to their ability, and loved every single day they walked through the doors of CJDS, a fact I know to be true of every student in the school, past and present. Dafna, Liav, and Hadar are the people they are today in large part because of the faculty and staff who helped us raise them.

Yesterday morning, we did our last bus stop drop-off, attended the Kadima/moving-up ceremony, and our youngest daughter officially became a middle schooler. And just like that, we find ourselves the proud parents of three CJDS alumni, but no current CJDS students. Of course, we will still be involved in the school; it continues to be my honor to serve on the Board of Trustees, and as a rabbi, it brings me great joy to see members of our congregation enroll their own children in the school. But at this time of year, filled with transitions of all kinds, this one holds special meaning and emotion for our family. Sharon and I can never properly express the thanks and gratitude we feel. Mazal tov to the graduating 5th graders of the Columbus Jewish Day School and to all the students and families celebrating graduations this year, be it pre-K, 5th grade, 8th grade (shout out to Liav and his fellow 8th graders), high school, and all the way through college and graduate school. We are proud of all of you!

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Hillel Skolnik

05/26/2026

It's your last chance to register for A Weekend of Bracha and Todah honoring Rabbi Alex Braver!

Registration closes TONIGHT! Grab your tickets at bit.ly/RABBI-ALEX!

05/21/2026

As we approach Shavuot - the festival of receiving the Torah - I find myself filled with a sense of deep gratitude and quiet awe. Shavuot reminds us that the gift of Torah was not given to any single individual, but to an entire community gathered together at the foot of the mountain. It is in that same spirit of communal purpose and shared responsibility that I humbly step into this role as your president. I do not take lightly the trust you have placed in me, and I am genuinely moved to serve this congregation that has meant so much to so many of us.

Before I say anything about the road ahead, I want to pause and offer my heartfelt thanks to our outgoing president, Lee Rosenthal. He shepherded our community through challenges and celebrations alike with grace and commitment, and the foundation he built is one I am honored to stand on. Lee, on behalf of all of us, thank you! Your service is a blessing to this community, and your legacy will continue to shape who we are.

As I look toward the year ahead, I am guided by three priorities that I believe are central to our vitality and growth. First and foremost is inspiring tefillah - meaningful, accessible prayer and learning that connects each of us to something greater than ourselves and to one another. I want our sanctuary to feel like a place where every voice matters, where newcomers feel welcome, and longtime members feel at home. Second, I am committed to ensuring the continued financial health of our congregation so that we can sustain and expand the programs and sacred work that make this community so special. Responsible stewardship of our resources is an act of love for future generations. And third, membership engagement, which is at the heart of everything: building relationships, welcoming new families, and making sure everyone knows they are an important part of making Tifereth Israel the warm, vibrant congregation it is.

Just as the Jewish people stood at Sinai together - not as isolated individuals but as one people with one heart - I believe our strength lies in our togetherness. I have no illusions that the work ahead is simple, and I know I will make mistakes. But I also know that with your input, your wisdom, and your partnership, we will find our way. I am already inspired by the conversations I've been having, the ideas being shared, and the deep reservoir of goodwill that exists in our community.

With gratitude to those who came before and hope for where we are going, I am so honored and excited to begin this journey together. On behalf of all of our board officers, First Vice President Jamie Goldson, Second Vice President Amy Tannenbaum, Treasurer Stephen Waterman, and Secretary Eric Po***ck, chag sameach, and may this Shavuot bring renewed meaning and connection to all of our lives.

Shabbat Shalom,
Jess Reback

05/15/2026

Acharon acharon chaviv — the very last is the most beloved.

That’s been the theme accompanying me for the past few weeks. On Wednesday, I taught my last lunch-and-learn to a group of dedicated participants, enjoying convoluted Jewish mysticism and tuna sandwiches. On Tuesday night, I gave one of the invocations at my last Nehemiah Action, speaking about what the last decade of witnessing BREAD’s pursuit of justice has meant to me. Two Sundays ago was my last Boker Or tefilah, singing, dancing, praying, and playing guitar with our enthusiastic students. This is not my last Thought Before Shabbat … but my second-to-last!

Endings are hard.

I spoke this past Yom Kippur about how rabbis and pastors are trained for “goodbyes” in a pastoral care settings, including an anecdote from a chaplain educator who described working with future-chaplains and -clergy for months and months on this topic, only to see them fail to properly say goodbye to one another when class ended — including being absent without an excuse for the final meeting, sneaking out without saying anything, picking fights at or near the end, or just simply offering generalizations without actually engaging with the personal relationships they’d built. A real goodbye engages with all the feelings that arise — positive and negative. It is a process, not a moment.

Still, a goodbye isn’t necessarily a final and complete ending. Even when we lose a loved one, they live in us and around us in ways that can be incredibly vivid, if not as tangible and fulfilling as we yearn for. Every Hebrew school student can tell you that shalom means both “goodbye” and “hello,” and more advanced students of Jewish thought can tell you about the theory of Jewish time as a spiral rather than a line or a circle — a cycle that repeats and circles back on itself while also moving forward. We count the 49 days of the omer each year toward Shavuot, and then the count ends — and though this same seven-week cycle and festival will never return, the counting and the holiday will indeed return next year. Each year we journey through the Days of Awe, turn and return in teshuvah, celebrate our forgiveness and our transformation … and then get ready to do it again in a year’s time. Whenever I put away the Pesach dishes each spring, a part of me is anticipating the next time they’ll come up from the basement.

Part of a proper goodbye — of encountering that “acharon acharon," very last moment — is finding a way to accept the finality of the moment … while at the same time recognizing that some of what is most “chaviv,” beloved, will remain with us. These past few weeks — rather than absenting myself without excuse, picking fights, or offering generalizations — I’ve tried my best to engage in this spiritual work with many of you; and I’ve been so moved to see how you’ve shared both your joy and sadness with me. It’s one of the many, many things I’m deeply grateful for in my decade at Tifereth — and one of the many, many things I’ll be taking with me.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Alex Braver