Farewell Memory Mimi Botkin

I’ve known Jamie Gibson for 32 years, as both my rabbi and my friend. Here, in no particular order, because memory doesn’t follow chronology, are my thoughts as his time with us is measured in weeks, not years.
When Jamie first arrived at Temple Sinai, we had experienced a carousel of rabbis, none staying longer than a few years. Then came this ‘youngin,’ and we had no idea what to expect.

He trod lightly at first. After all, many of his new congregants had children older than he was. But music was his first language, ahead of English and Hebrew. He led with his guitar and his heart. We sang new melodies from someone new, Debbie Friedman, unknown to most of us. We had services on Saturday mornings, not just for a bar or bat mitzvah, but because he wanted us to pray in a small, intimate group so we could get to know each other.

The Talmud says, ‘Find yourself a teacher.’ In Jamie’s case, the teacher found us. He teaches with every word he says, sometimes formally and sometimes informally. He can link a piece of Torah to an incident in The Hobbit or Star Wars. He can recite the parshat without a text in front of him. He has given me the greatest gift of all: how to learn from Torah, to question Torah, to find my life and my questions in Torah.
He brought his deep love of family, his ability to make a mistake and turn it into a lesson, his wacky puns, his profound knowledge of the books, the mysteries and the traditions of Judaism.

He brought about the creation of my beloved Intergenerational Choir so I and all my choir buds could sing, laugh, pray, and love each other.

Jamie’s 32 years at Temple Sinai have been transformative in so many ways. He will never be forgotten.