It is somehow fitting that Bernice Saltzman died the week before Tisha B’av. Tisha B’av commemorates the destruction of Jewish life in Jerusalem both in 586 BCE and 70 CE. It is a time of mourning for Jews around the world.
Similarly, Bernice’s death is time for mourning not just an outstanding individual, but one whose entire life embodied the full gamut of Jewish values.
As I sat by her bedside last Shabbat, I shared with her what I want to share with you now. “Bernice, I have never known a congregant who better than you exemplifies the core ideals of the Jewish religion-Torah, avodah and gemilut hasidim-the study of Torah, worship, and deeds of kindness and compassion.”
Bernice Meyer grew up in Richmond, Virginia and went off to major in American Studies and Journalism at Syracuse University. 26 years after she graduated, Bernice earned a second degree in Religion from Trinity College. At Syracuse, she met a young medical student, Seymour Saltzman. On the day Seymour became a doctor, they joined their lives together and have shared 49 loving years of marriage, three children and five grandchildren.
Because Bernice was Bernice, I think she would not want me to say these words without tying them to the texts she studied so diligently. This week’s Torah portion, the beginning of Deuteronomy, is always read on the Sabbath before Tisha B’av.
In a book I borrowed from her living room table, a book Bernice recommend to me, a book given to her by her beloved friend and study partner Aileen Stan Spence, Professor Yishayahu Leibowitz offers the following insight. “Moses complains of his failure with Israel (asking): “Eichah! How can I myself alone bear your trouble, and your burden, and your strife?” In this week’s Haftarah the prophet Isaiah indicts the people saying, “Eichah! How is the faithful city gone astray! Then the Book of Lamentations, which we read on Tisha B’Av, uses the same interrogative adverb: “Eichah! How does the city lie solitary” after its destruction. Just as Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah, the purported author of Lamentations, all asked, “Eichah!” “How” can this be? So we are moved by the same question today.
Eichah! How can one so righteous be brought down by a dreaded disease? Eichah! How can we help her grieving family to go on without her?Bernice and Seymour had three children, David, Lisa and Robert. In time, they took three spouses, who became Bernice’s other three children: Ana, Yuval and Beth. For Lisa – though she lives in Israel and Bernice lived here – she was “my best friend.” For Doron, Smadar, Amit, Daniel and Jonathan, she was a beloved grandmother.
The plaintive cry, “Eichah!” “How” also extends to this congregation. How can we go on without Bernice at Torah study, without Bernice at Shabbat services? She was one of the only congregants, who regularly attended Shabbat morning Bar and Bat Mitzvah services not because she knew the student celebrating, but because she wanted to pray. Eichah! How can we attend our daily minyan, which she and Seymour re-inaugurated at Beth Israel in 1994 without seeing her there? One thing I pledge: This congregation will do everything in its power to keep Bernice’s precious minyan going. It brought so much comfort to so many people who came for yarhzeits or just a brief prayerful respite from the pressures of the day.
Bernice loved this congregation. At meeting after meeting, she was there. She didn’t walk into a room; she flowed in. She often adorned her outfit with any one of the many scarves she loved to wear. On Shabbat, though, her scarf was her beautiful tallit.
She became a Bat Mitzvah at Beth Israel three years ago.
At her Bat Mitzvah, she took the Hebrew name Bracha Meirah. In our last conversation she told me that she hoped the name fit her. It means, “blessing, shedder of light.” Bernice, the name was perfect. You were – and you will remain – a magnificent blessing to this congregation. You shed the light that showed us the way in the study of Torah, in worship, and in acts of kindness which made life brighter for others.
Yes, Tisha B’av and Bernice’s death are times to mourn. But we must remember that in the liturgical calendar as well as in our present grief, “Nachamu, Nachamu,” comfort follows mourning. In time, our sadness will give way to a blessed memory that will light the way for all of us whose lives she touched with her learning, her passion and her goodness.
And so, Bernice, with sadness and hope we say to you: “Lechi Lach – Go forth to the Land that God will show you.” For you have been – and you will remain forever – a blessing!
Amen