"Your a rabbi in Montana? How did that happen?"

As a non-linear thinker, it makes total sense to me that I would take a hike and a leap of faith to serve an eclectic Jewish community in this relatively remote location surrounded by awe-some mountains and endless sky, enormous trees, tiny flowers, snow fed rivers, lakes, and abundant wildlife. I have always felt the closest to the Divine Mystery that many call "God," in awareness and awe of nature's beauty, intensity, and variety. I have been called by the rhythm's and cycles of Jewish time, prayer, wisdom, and song which so often reflect on the abundance and glory of natural world and our place in it. Our liturgy, Torah, and sacred scripture speak of the Sacred Source and the earth and all its inhabitants, often in a single breath. Imagine Psalms without the imagery of the natural world. Preposterous!

• Where better to engage with Jewish time and its ancient design than in the agricultural and seasonal rhythms of the Flathead Valley?

• And where better to locate awe in our heart, mind, and neshamah (spirit) than in this place.

• And where better to serve Jews seeking meaningful ways to engage with Judaism's treasure trove of ritual, wisdom, and service, and to connect with Jewish traditions and one another?

Of course I am their rabbi!

My Jewish journey, like many spiritual paths, is not a linear one. The first woman rabbi in North America was ordained when I was seven. As a kid, Jewish family and congregational life as well as summers at Jewish camps awakened a level of interest and enthusiasm for Judaism’s rich liturgy and music that foreshadowed my rabbinic pursuits.

In college, I had ample opportunity to pursue Judaic studies, however, surrounded by Jews, I had my first encounter with harsh judgment from other Jews around different levels of religious observance. This all too common practice, I now refer to as “Jews out-Jewing” one other. In addition, I noticed how Jewish denominations too often were silos, discerning what form of Jewish practice was best. I struggled to find a “big tent” approach to Jewish practice and learning. My young and sensitive soul was aggrieved, and I turned away from Jewish activities and community on campus.

Instead, I nurtured twin passions for musical theater and political activism. In the career that preceded my mid-life calling, these passions served me well. Upon graduation from law school, I served as an attorney, mediator, and facilitator of conflict transformation, assisting others in learning and utilizing collaborative approaches to systemic and interpersonal disputes.

A lifelong learner, several books read one summer inspired me to design monthly Rosh Chodesh rituals to celebrate the new Jewish month/new moon and cultivate community. This creativity and a new appreciation for the Divine Feminine (Shekhinah) in Jewish theology rekindled my love of liturgy, soulful Jewish music, and designing meaningful Jewish experiences for community.

In 2006, I was central to the formation of The Little Minyan, a havurah (group of friends) that grew into a central Ohio congregation, Kehilat Sukkat Shalom. We were a small group of committed dreamers who created a grassroots kehilah/community. We designed a highly participatory model rather than the hierarchical structure of synagogues we had experienced. My experience growing the kehilah serves me well as we build grass-roots Jewish community in the Flathead Valley.

My spiritual leadership skills grew exponentially through an intensive training program for congregational worship leaders offered by rabbinic and cantorial leaders of Jewish Renewal (DLTI). This immersive experience allowed me to finally clearly listen and pay attention to my rabbinic calling. I had heard this calling earlier in life. It continued to influence my learning, relationship with Jews, Judaism, and the world. And throughout the decades, as I wrestled with God (as is our birthright as "YisraEl" - God-wrestlers) and developed my own personal sense of the Sacred Source, I was drawn to liturgy and Torah, and our ancient rituals. I had wanted to be a rabbi (or hazzan/cantor) from my earliest memories of Jewish prayer, but it wasn’t until 2011, that I had the holy chutzpah (audacity) to trust my kishkes (gut) and take that leap of faith.

Learning with students from across continents, denominations, and generations in the ALEPH Ordination Program grew the role I was already serving within my kehilah in Columbus. Our community nourished their home-grown emerging rabbi in appreciation for my energetic and thoughtful stewardship. The children of the Kehilah and many of their parents soon began to call me “rabbi Jessica,” a title bestowed with love and appreciation. Publicly, however, I declined this title and honor until January 7, 2018, when I received s’micha (transmission of the sacred capacities of rabbi, teacher of Torah, pastoral counselor, and guide) from my teachers in acknowledgement of their confidence in my skills, appreciation of my talents, and delight to call me a colleague.

My “rabbinistry” has evolved around assisting Jews who feel ambivalent about or even alienated from the Judaism of their youth in renewing a meaningful connection with Jewish values and practices. Helping others to find value in a connection with the divine sparks of Jewish wisdom and practice is an intuitive strength I share with delight.

In addition to working with those who were born Jewish, I love any opportunity to engage and learn with those who feel drawn to Judaism's deep well of wisdom, ethical pillars, and spiritual practices. This includes those who were born and raised within other religious or secular paths who feel drawn to convert and those who live in loving relationship with a Jew and want to more fully become part of the tribe. I feel very strongly, that our partners and friends who are Jewish-adjacent and Jewish allies are integral to the health and vibrancy of our Jewish communities, and you will here me express this in different ways whenever I have the opportunity to remove barriers from participation in Jewish community.

I also find deep meaning in the “Torah of the public square,” addressing social and environmental justice issues through a spiritual lens. I have always emphasized collaborating across difference. My work with T’ruah and the Coalition of Immokalee Workers to address human rights abuses faced by agricultural workers, who organized and grew a vibrant food justice movement, taught me about the power consumers can exert to influence corporate practices and root out injustice. For decades, I been a part of religious organizing around climate crisis, environmental justice, and earth care. I follow eco-kashrut practices and love helping others learn about the undercurrent of thousands of years of Jewish values, practices, and ways of sanctifying time, that support our desire to conduct our daily lives with purposeful attention to planetary health and environmental justice.

Although I love being called “rabbi,” my favorite earned title is “Mom,” the name I’m called by two young men I admire greatly and who continue to teach me about parenting and how to tend important relationships. Both have completed college and are enjoying meaningful work in Ohio and Wisconsin. 

I am also a daughter who accompanied her Mom, z”l, through terminal illness, and continues to support her father's aging. I am a sister, sister-in-love, aunt, and daughter-in-love, and part of a blended family. These roles and the ways in which they require compassion, courage, patience, fortitude, forgiveness, and self-care continue to inform my rabbinistry daily. My friendships as well as the connections made each day with complete strangers are powerful forces of illumination, comfort, and joy.

In 2020, as the pandemic was transforming our lived reality, I moved to Nashville, Tennessee to marry my b'shert (meant to be) soulmate - my beloved, Eric Stillman. As I transitioned to a new community during a global pandemic, my ritual artistry grew to encompass my creative outlet of braiding natural beeswax Havdalah candles (#HavdalahHappiness). Eric and I were married during the pandemic in the 38 minutes between making Havdalah (the sweet ritual of transition from Shabbat to the week ahead) and a city-wide curfew as the country protested and counter-protested in reaction to the murder of George Floyd. Through the miracles of modern technology, we were able to share our wedding with 300+ guests, though only seven people stood in the sanctuary. Our evolving partnership is planted in the rich soil of mature, unconditional love, appreciation for the abundant blessings of each day together, and a shared enthusiasm for doing Jewish.

In the fall of 2021, I stepped in, at the last minute, to serve GJC for the High Holy Days. It was my first trip to Montana. I was profoundly moved by this community, the Flathead Valley, its surrounding mountains, and the vastness of the sky in this place. It was in an open tent, orchestrating prayer and sacred activity to embrace the Days of Awe 5782, and in quiet conversations with community members that I fell in love with the GJC. When Rabbi Francine decided to retire from pulpit work in 2023, I was asked to consider a long-distance relationship with this loving and eclectic community. Despite the schlep and the need to spend some of our sacred time online rather than in person, I am thrilled to serve as the spiritual leader for the Glacier Jewish Community. In addition, I continue to serve seekers of the sacred fringes and holy whole of Judaism’s vast tent through individual and group learning, conversations of spiritual exploration and pastoral support, and lifecycle ritual artistry, across the country and in the DMV (District-Maryland-Virginia).