By Barrett Holman Leak in San Diego
Pasadena is such a lovely place. It charms with a combination of American Arts and Crafts (commonly known as “Art Deco”) and Spanish Colonial Revival styles of architecture with beautiful glass and stained glass windows – all surrounded by a wall of the San Gabriel Mountains in the distance (can you tell that I am an architecture nerd?).
I was in Pasadena to join a few hundred other women as part of Women of Reform Judaism’s Pacific District Convention 2026.
WRJ is the women’s affiliate of the Union of Reform Judaism (URJ). It is a global organization with hundreds of affiliated women’s groups (“sisterhoods”) in North America. WRJ cultivates sisterhood by empowering women to find strength, joy, and connection in their communities, while enriching contemporary life with Jewish rituals, traditions, culture, and lifelong learning. WRJ also mobilizes collective action on a variety of causes to create a more just and compassionate world for people of all backgrounds and identities.
As an active member of the Jewish community, my connection to my heritage is deeply nurtured by shared experiences—particularly those fostered by the women of our sisterhood. From the joy of Hanukkah celebrations and Purim carnivals to the tradition of Passover seders, these communal milestones create a profound sense of belonging. The ritual moments of consecration and confirmation serve as powerful touchstones, strengthening my link to Jewish culture and the generations that came before.
My leadership journey began at age six with my early decision to enter three professions, one of which was becoming a journalist and one of which was to be a rabbi. Not with a loud blast of a shofar, but with a series of quiet, persistent nudges, including earning a master’s degree in theology and being affirmed along the way by Jewish community members, I have moved forward. In the last several years, it sharpened in focus at the close of the pandemic. It started with the Playing Together Project, bringing together African American and American Jewish neighbors over Shabbat dinners to heal communal divides, and evolved into pitching a Jewish Solidarity Tent at the local Juneteenth Freedom Festival in San Diego. These moments were my “Small Alephs”—quiet calls to serve.
The whisper became a command when Rabbi Dr. Andrea Weiss z’’l looked at my work and told me clearly that it is time to apply to rabbinical school. Soon after, at the Consultation on Conscience in Washington, D.C., I saw my Jewish values translate into the halls of power through lobbying. It was there that several people recommended to me that I attend the WRJ Pacific District Convention. So, six of us piled into two cars and drove to Pasadena last weekend for four days of answering the call. We arrived ready to embrace the convention’s powerful theme: Hineini—”Here I am.”
This transition from a quiet internal nudge to a public commitment is mirrored in the opening of the Book of Leviticus. Vayikra—”And He called.” In the Torah scroll, the final letter of this opening word, the aleph, is written significantly smaller than the rest of the text. This “Small Aleph” serves as a profound entry point into the mechanics of holiness and the ethics of our personal leadership. Saying “Hineini!” is stepping up to your leadership. It is about total readiness to serve.
When we look at the purpose of the Korbanot (offerings) detailed in this portion, we see a classic divide in Jewish philosophy. Maimonides viewed the sacrificial system as a pedagogical “divine concession,” a way to transition a nation toward abstract prayer, while Nahmanides argued that sacrifice was a primal, essential act that allowed the human soul to physically “draw near” to the Divine. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel bridged these worlds by teaching that the call to sacrifice is a manifestation of the Divine “pathos”—a “need” for human partnership and ethical action.
Rabbi Dr. Erin Leib Smokler noted that the “Small Aleph” takes on a transformative meaning for us as leaders. Smokler suggests that this diminished letter represents a theology of “making room.” To truly hear a call, one must first cultivate a sense of interior silence and humility. It is in this quiet space that we find the strength to utter that transformative word: Hineini.
The Hineini of Vayikra is not a shout from a mountaintop; it is the response to a “Small Aleph” call. It is an answering of the call to leadership by stepping up and giving of our unique gifts as women. In a world that often rewards the “large aleph”—the loudest voice or the most aggressive ego—this Parsha reminds us that answering the call often involves the humble, attentive labor of the soul.
Whether we are offering the “fine flour” of our daily professional lives or the “incense” of our communal advocacy, we are performing the sacred work of maintenance and care. We recognize that true leadership does not always require taking up the most space but rather refining the space we inhabit so that others may enter, or opening the door so that others may pass through now and in the future.
I reflected in the car on the way home that we are called to carry that spirit forward. Not be a private club or a clique but rather Reform Jewish women and Jewish women in general, who use our voices to put Jewish values in action to repair our broken world.
As we return from Pasadena, let us carry that spirit forward. Like the Small Aleph, our strength lies in the quality of our presence. When we say Hineini, we are not just standing up; we are opening up—offering our specific talents and our unique perspectives to build a more sanctified world.
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Barrett Holman Leak is a freelance writer based in San Diego