Eulogy for Mike Jackman – Rabbi Chai Levy 6/22/07 Last week I sat in the library here at Kol Shofar with Mike and a small group of people to discuss adult education in our community.  We began the meeting with a bit of Torah study, looking at the discussion in the Talmud about what the blessing before the study of Torah should be. The rabbis in the Talmud offered three different possibilities, and we in the group discussed which of the three most spoke to us. Mike raised his hand; not completely satisfied with any of the three options offered, he suggested that the blessing before Torah study should remind us of the purpose of our Torah study and should go something like this: Blessed are You Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe Who teaches us Torah so that we might see others more in the image of God and be more the image of God in the world. See, the Torah tells us that the human being was created in the image of God, B’tzelem Elohim, and that is who Mike Jackman was: a man whose life was about seeing others in the image of God and acting in the image of God himself. As a loving husband, father, son, brother, uncle, friend, leader and role model, Mike embodied goodness, kindness, and righteousness, all with the sweetest and warmest presence, with incredible humility and an easy-going calm, and with a fantastic sense of humor. Mike was a superlative human being. He lived fully and devoted himself deeply to his many interests and passions. Growing up, he didn’t just play sports. He was the captain of the basketball team. And the baseball team. And the football team. He was the quarterback. And student council president. He was popular, but not the “jock” type of popular; he was kind to everyone. Michael Jackman was born in Emmetsburg, Iowa to Richard and Ethel Jackman, and was the eldest of his five siblings, Jean, John and Anne, Susan and Mary. In his family, Mike was always the generous, gentle, and fun brother and uncle, the one the kids would jump on and tickle and be tickled by, the one who would drive through the big puddles, so there would be a big fun splash. Family was important to Mike; he was the one who organized the Jackman family reunions, bringing together over 200 people. He used his many talents to connect people, and in doing so, he brought God’s image more into the world. And Mike brought God’s image into his home in his marriage with Joan and as a father to Caleb and Gabriel. Couples would talk about how difficult marriage is, but Mike and Joan would look at each other and shrug: they never had an argument in 18 years of marriage. It was a running joke in the household. The boys would say: “Don’t argue! Don’t argue!” See, Joan would get home from work and say to Mike, “You cooked. I’ll do the dishes.” And Mike would say “Honey, sit down. You worked hard all day. I’ll do the dishes.” And the boys would say, “Don’t argue! Don’t argue!” Their marriage was a collaborative partnership, with a shared sense of what’s important in life. Mike happily accompanied Joan to the many events that were part of her volunteer work, and he’d dazzle everyone with his wit and charm. He never complained about having to attend these events or about anything else for that matter; he’d say, “this is our partnership. I do this for you.” Mike loved the quiet of being with his family for Shabbat dinner, of skiing and hiking with them, of working in the garden at home. He loved his wife, Joan, and they had a wonderful relationship. You can’t imagine a father more devoted to parenting his children than Mike Jackman. As soon as Caleb was born, he started working at home. In addition to running his own business from the house, he ran the whole household, he did the shopping, he did the driving for his kids’ sports practices and Hebrew school. It was Mike who knew all of the mothers of classmates and teammates. When Gabriel came home from school in the afternoon, it was Mike who helped him with his homework. It was Mike who would take a break from working to come out and shoot hoops with Caleb. Three years ago, when Caleb started Mill Valley Middle school, Mike became a volunteer at the snack bar there.  Mike was a dedicated little league and basketball coach. Some years he coached all seasons, different teams for both boys. Mike’s years were far, far too few, but in those years, Caleb and Gabriel had more time with their father than most children ever do. Joan said that the thing Mike will miss most is seeing his boys continue to grow up. But you boys made him happy and made the years he had here so, so precious. He instilled solid values and his wonderful qualities in you, Caleb and Gabriel; as a parent, he followed the example of his own father, Dick Jackman, and I know that he would want you to follow his example. Mike treasured life and treasured his friends, keeping in touch with friends from Swarthmore College, where he graduated in 1975. And he was an adventurer. During college, he drove out to Alaska in a beat up old car that didn’t have all of its parts, living on a small island and working in a cannery. Mike had many professional accomplishments that Amy will mention, but beyond those, Mike was a volunteer leader. He wanted to be like his father who role-modeled leadership in the non-profit world. And so getting involved here at Kol Shofar fulfilled a great yearning in him. I had the privilege of studying one-on-one with Mike for a year in preparation for his conversion to Judaism just over three years ago. Mike loved everything about Judaism, particularly, he said, that it commands me to be a better person. In Mike own words, “Judaism is not about making me feel good on the inside; it’s about making me responsible for the world outside of me.” And he wanted to be Jewish so that he could stand next to Caleb and Gabriel at their bar mitzvahs. Mike spoke of a transformational moment when he was in Israel: standing at the Western Wall, there was a bar mitzvah taking place and someone’s kippa flew off his head and into the air. Mike caught it, like catching the bouquet a wedding, and he took it as a cosmic sign that he was in the right place. Mike chose for his Hebrew name Nechemia, which means “God’s comfort,” after the ancient governor of Judea who rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem and who re-instituted the law of Torah and of Sabbath observance. In the essay that Mike wrote in preparation for his conversion, he said: “I have selected Nechemia as my Hebrew name because of my strong feeling about Torah and the importance of observance in preserving the spirit and meaning of Judaism. . .The strength of an individual Jew and the Jewish people as a whole lies in Torah, which is simply God’s constant presence on earth. Nechemia was a central figure in not only saving our religion but in raising to prominence the place that Torah now has 2500 years later.” Mike lived up to his Hebrew name. He lived the beauty of Torah and Judaism and he devoted his time to helping others experience this beauty. Before he had even converted, he was on the membership committee, reaching out to new people, making them feel welcome! I was so proud of Mike that within 3 years of his conversion, he became the chair of the Adult education committee at Kol Shofar, joined the Board as secretary, and was elected president. I think he might have set a world record for shortest time from conversion to shul president. Everyone was so hopeful and excited for our community as Mike prepared to begin his term as president.  Even Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, the internationally known teacher and author, sent him a letter of support and pride. He wrote: “I met Mike when he was at the beginning of his Jewish journey. Yet I sensed his religious search, his inner spirit and his gifts of love and soul that could be so precious and so valuable for all of us.” Mike was so full of promise and vision. Just this past Tuesday, I was supposed to have a meeting with Mike about “vision.” He had scheduled meetings with me and with many other people around our community to discuss our vision for Kol Shofar for the upcoming years. That’s the kind of leader that Mike was, a collaborator, a connector, a community builder, who reached out to people to create a shared vision for the highest possibilities of what could be achieved. He wrote in his essay: “I have always tried to have an impact on the community and events around me. I would like to continue doing so in the future as a Jew because I feel Judaism embodies the highest challenge for  being a human in our world. We seek justice not just for our fellow Jews but for all people. We must try to improve the whole world. . . The consumer culture. . . has created a ‘me first’ ethic that is in direct opposition to the community spirit ... of Judaism. . . A connection to God offers the chance to make a stronger connection to the best of what humans can be (in God’s image) and to the needs of others around us. I am committed to this journey and want to do it as a Jew.” And that is exactly how Mike lived. He was always the generous and thoughtful person who was unique in his awareness of those around him. He gave of himself so as to make others feel special and cherished. At family events, he always made sure to sit next to Joan’s mother Ann, who had to be in a wheelchair.  When Caleb was in nursery school, Mike was the one who decided to get gifts for all the teachers. He was an exemplary human being.  Who else besides Mike would think to write a note to the mother-of-the-bride thanking her for the lovely reception? He always reached out to people to make sure they were included and taken care of. He explained that he didn’t have a choice; it was simply his responsibility. In his essay, he wrote: “Tzedekah or justice is another primary value of my Judaism. From tzedekah flows the need to make things right in the world, through fairness, helping your fellow man, improving life, doing acts of kindness that have no self interest, and charity of course. Our household gives at least 10 percent of our income to charity each year because we can only judge ourselves on what we do.” Mike was truly a role model for all of us of what we can strive to be.  He was known to never take offense or complain or say anything bad about anyone; he just lived deeply, with integrity, honor, and purpose. And he made everyone laugh and was a great writer. When Joan turned 45, Mike put together a book of letters from fake organizations, such as “Older Mothers United” and “the Gardening Association” which was so screamingly funny, he had tears running down everyone’s faces. For the many family gatherings, Mike created “Frequent In Law Miles” certificates. If you went to a certain number of events, you earned enough miles to skip the next one.  Growing up, when it was time to unwrap Christmas presents, he would put a little present in a big box made heavy with volumes of the encyclopedia, just to make his siblings laugh. Along with kindness and righteousness, Mike brought joy and laughter to our world. Mike gave so much to the world. I joked with him recently about the daunting task he was taking on by becoming synagogue president, but he was so excited to do this work. Just last month, he stood right here and gave a beautiful and moving speech at a Friday night service about how he got here. In it, he said, “one of the greatest blessings I have had is to discover Judaism…. Our synagogue has done more for me than I can ever repay.  .  .” Joan said that the other thing that Mike will miss most is not fulfilling all that he wanted to do in his leadership at Kol Shofar. Mike understood the essence of Judaism so profoundly, and he lived it and exemplified it so beautifully. He stood up here and gave an unabashed commercial about Shabbat. He said: For me, Shabbat is a gift, not an obligation or a set of “don’ts.” It’s a way to sneak away from a hectic life and simply rest.  It’s a time to appreciate what is good about your life and the world.” Mike appreciated life and the world. That same night, he said: “I have many things to be thankful for in my life,” and he mentioned his great wife, parents, and kids. He loved the outdoors: hiking, bicycling, kayaking. He loved beauty of Marin County and Mill Valley, and he loved being on Mount Tam. Mike also loved Israel. He put up maps of Israel at home, and hung the Israeli flag. He served on the Jewish Community Relations Council Rapid Response Team, writing letters to the editor defending Israel in the press. Just last week, he expressed that we must speak more strongly and frequently of our connection to Israel here at Kol Shofar. He dreamed about the possibility of moving to Israel, of making aliyah, one day. In his essay he wrote, “Diaspora Jews need Israel more than Israel needs us. Its return gives all Jews a grounding - we can go home again.” In the book of Nechemia, Mike’s namesake does go home again to Israel, and there he serves as the leader in perpetuating the Torah and strengthening the community. In the end of the book, Nechemia recalls his own deeds and prays to God that God might remember him favorably for all that he has done. “Remember me God,” he calls out, “and do not blot out the kindness I have done for the house of God and for its attendants.” (Nechemia 13:14) The book ends with Nechemia’s last words: “Zochra Li Elohai L’Tova, Remember me, O my God, for my goodness.” (Nechemia 13:31) Mike, we will remember you. We will remember you for all your goodness and for all the kindness you have done. Your work was not finished, Mike. There was so much goodness that you still hoped to do. We don’t understand why your life ended too, too soon, we’ll never understand it, but we will remember you and your goodness, and we will honor you by trying to live the way you taught us to live. We will remind your sons as they grow older what a wonderful father they had so that they can grow up to be like you.  We will keep your spirit alive by following your example. We will remember you, Mike, we will always remember you.  Eulogy for Mike Jackman – Steve Schiff My name is Steve Schiff. I’m one of the many people who became friends with Mike while we worked on projects together at Kol Shofar. We spent a lot of time together, and I came to enjoy him and admire him enormously. Mike was one of those people you just like being around. He was charming, and polite, and had a great sense of humor, a very dry, droll sense of humor. He was thoughtful and well read and he was interested in a wide range of subjects. He was also wonderfully irreverent. It was fun kidding around with him. It was always a pleasure spending time with him. But that was just the surface level. When I think about Mike, what strikes me most is his character. Mike was always willing to step up and be helpful. He worked hard for our community, and no task, however mundane, was beneath him. He sought out commitment. He looked for ways to make a contribution. And if he said he was going to do something, you knew it was going to get done, and get done well. Mike had the gift of perspective. He was able to sort out the important from the unimportant. I especially admired the way he treated others. He was a very respectful man. He was also a deeply appreciative man. I remember many times when he would talk about this person, or that person, and how much he admired them. He was grateful for the good fortune in his life, and that included gratitude for all the people who surrounded him. As our friendship grew, I came to appreciate Mike’s spiritual side. We would talk about religious issues. Mike was on a path towards even greater connection to the Jewish people. He was passionately supportive of Israel. He was learning constantly, and stretching himself towards greater observance of Jewish practices. He yearned for deeper connections to God. Mike was one of the good guys. In our traditional language, he was a mensch, a full-grown man of fine character. He was also a delightful friend and companion.  I want everyone in his family, especially Joan and Caleb and Gabe, to know how much he was admired and respected and liked, by so many of us. I know I’m speaking for many people when I say that I’m going to miss him a lot. May his memory be for a blessing.