The Red Dress Club: Resolution

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The phone rang. The clock read 11:23pm. It was the temple president.

As it so happens, I had not been waiting up for news of my contract renewal. I had been assured by the members of my Professional Development Committee, some of whom sat on the Board of Directors of the synagogue, that I would certainly be renewed for another term of service.

What else could I have said? I thanked him again and replaced the phone in its receiver.

***************

The next morning, I went to work as if nothing untoward had happened. Which was a smart move as it appeared as though no one was aware that the associate rabbi had just been canned. The Board, in its infinite wisdom, had determined that sending an official letter to the congregation would do more harm than good. A decision that would be reversed one week later.

It was a strange experience; being at work and knowing that I wasn’t really wanted. At least, not wanted by some. Made all the stranger by the lack of communication to the members of the synagogue. After several days, of course, word had leaked and rumours began to spread. It was then decided that a letter ought to go out. A joint letter. One saying that my departure was a joint decision, shared by the Board and me.

I could not agree to that letter. I could not agree because it had not been a joint decision. In fact, it had not been my decision at all.

Consistent with tradition at Temple ****** that our Associate Rabbis serve our congregation for about five years, the Board of Directors in consultation with our senior Rabbi has determined that Rabbi Frummie’s term will conclude on June 30, 2004.

We thank her for her years of devoted service to our congregation, and wish her well in her future endeavours.

We want the congregation to know that we have begun our search for our new assistant Rabbi and we will keep you posted.

Leaving aside the glaring grammatical mistakes, the terse tone of the letter would later….much later…clarify what the nature of the relationship had been all along.

*************

For the next six months, I remained at the synagogue, fulfilling both my contract to the synagogue as well as the covenental promise I’d made with God on 16 May 1999. In that time, I learned several things:

• Platitudes (e.g. “you’ll see, this is a blessing in disguise” and “it’s meant to be”) are helpful not to the person who is hurting, but clearly make the other person feel a whole lot better. “When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window” might have been awfully reassuring to Maria, but it made me feel like crap.
• Unanimous doesn’t always mean unanimous.
• Friends don’t abstain from the vote.
• Holding one’s head up and acting with grace, while damn-near impossible at times, is the best way to handle such adversity.

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Nearly seven years have passed. I have been gone longer than I was there. It remains one of the most painful experiences of my life.

And I am…now…grateful that it happened. It allowed me to come home.

Remembe(RED) is a memoir meme. This week, we were asked to recall an experience that seemed terrible at the time, but turned out to be something positive. In 600 words or fewer. As always, constructive criticism is welcomed!