On Sunday, May 4, nearly 1,000 congregants gathered at Pier 60 on Manhattan’s West Side for a festive sunset celebration of Senior Rabbi Peter Rubinstein. With breathtaking views of the Hudson River as backdrop, the evening included singing, dancing, tears and laughter.

Congregational President David Edelson presented to Rabbi Rubinstein a beautiful keepsake memory book filled with personal anecdotes and images submitted by congregants. Trustees Abigail Pogrebin and Fred Poses delivered heartfelt remarks and the congregation joined in wishing Rabbi, “Success! Health! Happiness!” after offering collective “Thanks!”  The clergy team, led by Senior Cantor Angela Buchdahl and featuring a special guest appearance by Cantor Liz Sacks, serenaded Rabbi and Kerry with an adapted version of “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” from Rabbi’s favorite movie Dirty Dancing. And from Rabbi’s alma mater Amherst College, the Zumbyes a capella group performed. The Rubinsteins were also hoisted on chairs for an impromptu hora.

More photos will be available in the coming days. Digital and physical prints will only be available for purchase directly from the photographer at www.hartpictures.com. Check back soon for a direct link to purchase.

Video highlights from the program will be available in the coming weeks. In the meanwhile, each speaker has provided a written copy of his and her remarks below.

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David Edelson

Good evening and welcome to Central on the Hudson.

For Peter, the only way this setting could be any better would be if we were gazing out at the Grand Concourse, not Hoboken!

Tonight is, quite simply, a celebration. An evening for us to come together as a community to sing and laugh, eat and drink, and celebrate with Peter and Kerry.

Tonight we celebrate our good fortune that a kid from the Bronx decided to attend Amherst College, the unlikely first step on his path to the rabbinate and Central Synagogue.

Thankfully, by the time Peter landed in western Massachusetts, Amherst was no longer the place its founders described as a school for “indigent young men of promising talents and hopeful piety, who shall manifest a desire to obtain a liberal education with a sole view to the Christian ministry.”

While the Christian ministry wasn’t Peter’s calling, luckily the Reform rabbinate was.

Peter, we give thanks every day that you made that decision. And we are doubly blessed that you took to heart the Amherst motto, ‘Let them enlighten the lands.” Because for the past 23 years, you have enlightened us and made us better as individuals and as a community.

From the moment Peter took the helm at Central, he set in motion changes that have taken us places we never imagined. Dr. Seuss wisely wrote, “And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.”  Well, for the past 23 years, Central has definitely been “happening” thanks to Peter’s leadership, vision, and spirit. We have gone right along and are glad we have.

Peter’s impact can best be understood by firsthand accounts.  Tonight, two congregants will share with us their thoughts about Peter. We will first hear from Abby Pogrebin and then from Fred Poses.

But before Abby speaks, I have the privilege of presenting Peter and Kerry with a gift from the congregation.

Peter, we commissioned a Memories Book documenting and celebrating your tenure as our Senior Rabbi. The author, Ilana Segal, interviewed dozens of congregants and colleagues and received hundreds of submissions.

The book is a remarkable collection of reflections, photographs, and reminiscences contributed by congregants and colleagues whose lives have been touched, enriched, and changed by you.  It is titled Simply a Story of Love, a quote taken from your “Love Letter” sermon delivered this past Kol Nidre.

Kerry and Peter, on behalf of the entire congregation, we present you with this book and hope that, through it, you can relive again and again our love, respect, and appreciation for you and all that you have meant to us.

As all of you undoubtedly noticed, our singing clergy are missing two key members tonight. Rabbi Michael Friedman was married yesterday, so his absence is completely understandable. And sadly, Rabbi Ari Lorge lost his grandfather yesterday and he flew home to be with his family. Our thoughts and prayers are with Ari and his family.

Before I conclude, I’d like to acknowledge those who made this party a reality:

Co-chairs Lori Moore and my wife Cindy Edelson, together with party planners extraordinaire Melissa Rosenbloom and Harriett Rose Katz, as well as Janet Millar Schapiro of Gourmet Advisory Services and her team;

Debbie Palmer, who spent hours helping Ilana with the Memories Book, together with Amy Goldberger and Anne Mininberg;

KVL Audio Visual Services, Jesse Hartman of Hart Media, and Pier Sixty at Chelsea Piers;

And, last but not least, a shout-out to the many Central team members who helped put this party together, and those working here tonight.

Let me now introduce a remarkably committed and caring member of our congregation, Abby Pogrebin.

Thank you.

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Abby Pogrebin

I could talk tonight about Peter’s luminous sermons, which have moved us for 23 years and challenged us to think more deeply. I could talk about the way Peter has made a lasting, national impact on the Reform Movement. I could marvel at how Peter has managed to galvanize and inspire his staff, his board of trustees, his congregation, and his fellow clergy… Or I could talk about how much fun it is to drink vodka with him after services.

But instead, tonight, I want to talk about Peter’s hands.

Because I actually think his hands tell the story of his rabbinate in a way that encompasses all of his incomparable gifts.

I’m thinking of watching him bless an engaged couple on a Friday night, the day before they’re to be married, one hand gently behind the bride’s neck, one behind the groom’s, as they stand before the ark. How he is able to transform a few short minutes into an exquisite milestone, which feels both happy and holy.

I’m thinking of his hands holding up a new wiggling baby in front of the ark as Peter expertly, like the experienced father and grandfather that he is, welcomes the newest tiny Jew into Central’s ever-expanding family (while the rest of us kvell from the pews.)

We can all conjure Peter’s hands on the Torah scrolls as he carries them through the aisles, leaning into each row to greet as many of us as he can.

And how many times have we observed that classic Peter posture on Friday nights, when his hand rests in his cheek as he sits in the high-backed chair listening to the cantors—just listening—with that easy bearing that allows us all to feel at ease. His body language always signals that Shabbat is a time for repose and reflection, not performance.  He has never been a rabbi who needs to visibly emote or show us how much he’s feeling.  Instead, he sits far behind the lectern and gives us room to find our own experience.

We, who have been the nervous parents of b’nei mitzvah, remember Peter’s reassuring hand on our backs, reminding us to breathe while our children chanted—because he knew we were holding our breath.

We, those same verklempt parents, will also never forget standing in that powerful line of three generations on the bimah, as Peter helps the grandparents pass the Torah from the old to the young, reminding us that this moment was never a given.

I can picture Peter’s hands blessing the confirmation students who didn’t take their eyes off of Peter as his private benediction was bestowed, which somehow made every kid feel connected to their rabbi and crucial to the Jewish future.

We can see his hands draped around the shoulders of Angela or Julia during the Mi Shebeirach and Shehecheyanu.

We have seen his hands enveloping Angela, Mo, Michael, Ari, Julia, and Liz in that sweet, moving clergy huddle at the ark, as they welcome a new member of their team or say a tearful goodbye.

Some of us have seen, up close, how he holds the hands of someone who is sick or facing the end of life. We’ve watched how his touch can be as healing as any prayer.

We see how his hands hold the hands of his wife, Kerry. Their partnership has been inseparable from Peter’s rabbinate, and their romance—which is visibly, enviably romantic—has forced many of us in this room to reevaluate our own marriages.

We’ll always keep a mental picture of Peter’s hands on an oversized plastic cup of fast-food soda.  Or his favorite hors d’oeuvre: a pig in a blanket.  Or a tumbler of orange Absolut, his reliable post-Shabbat libation.

I’ll never forget the tour bus through Israel—Peter’s hand seizing the bus microphone to demand that we all sing “You Are My Sunshine” at 6 a.m. or our college fight songs (as loudly as possible).

We’ve seen Peter’s hands on the cracks of the Western Wall, on the stones of Masada, on the graves of Kinneret Cemetery, on the barracks of Birkenau.

I will personally treasure Peter’s hands hugging my son—so tightly—when Ben was twelve years old and going through a rough time: a quiet, decisive lifeline. And later, how they laughed together when Peter was coaching Ben during his bar mitzvah rehearsal in the Sanctuary, and Peter capped his teacher’s hand on the top of Ben’s head to remind him to keep looking up after every line of his d’var Torah. Their shared hysterics during that run-through was as priceless as the bar mitzvah itself.

Peter, there are too many ways in which you will be missed at Central. It’s an irrefutable, poignant fact: You are leaving an enormous chasm.

But you will never be absent.

Because we all feel somehow personally—individually—cradled, protected, nudged, lifted up, and held tight…by your hands.

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Fred Poses

In our president’s message on May 1, David Edelson said he was privileged to serve people who were committed to each other, committed to our great institution, and committed to the Jewish people.

I believe I speak for everyone in our congregation when I make two observations.  First, we share David’s pride, and we are privileged, too. Second, we know this does not happen because it is right, it happens because of a lot of hard work, a passion to make it happen, and a commitment to make it happen.

But that is never enough to make it happen. It happens because we have a rabbi, Peter Rubinstein, who has been committed to lead us to that promised land. And for Peter, it happened because he has a great supporter, and a great leader, in his wife Kerry who enabled him to make it happen.

From the moment he was selected some 23 years ago to this very moment this evening, he has been and is our leader in so many ways. He had vision to understand what we could be, he had the drive to enable us to get there, and he had the ability to work with others to make it happen.

As we celebrate Peter tonight, we each can reflect back on 23 years, 23 months, or 23 days; whether those reflections be on the pulpit or at a special event in your and your families lives—reflect on yours, I have mine; on retreats with the synagogue—reflect on yours, I have mine; on a personal time with Peter—reflect on yours, I have mine.

As I think back on each and every reflection, the emotion in my mind is connectivity. I always felt, in whatever the setting, I was the only person he was talking to; I was the only one on his mind. We could have been the only two people in the world.  We were one hundred per cent connected in the best of ways.

That is the power of Peter for me.

And I’ll bet, on your reflections, you too felt that power of Peter, that power of connectivity, and benefited from that power in the ways Nancy and I have.

So, we gather tonight to celebrate our connectivity: to each other, to our synagogue, to our Jewishness, and, especially, our connectivity to Peter.

I feel I speak for everyone in this room, and lots of others, when I say four things to Peter and Kerry:

Thanks for all you have given us, individually and collectively. Join me in saying Thanks.

Success as you continue to make a difference for individuals, community, and the Jewish people. Join me in saying Success.

Stay connected—we all want that. Join me in saying Stay connected.

And lastly, all the best to Peter and Kerry and your family. Join me in saying Health and happiness.

Finally, join me in a toast to Peter and Kerry.