52 years ago, I was part of the largest ordination class in HUC history. We were a class of 54 all male, all white, straight (at least to outward appearances because an out gay would have been expelled), almost all of us between 27 and thirty years old. Most of us entered HUC straight out of college to prepare for careers as (for the most part) pulpit rabbis.
Our ordination ceremony was formal and impersonal. Except for a few liturgists, our participation was minimal. When they called our names, we walked across the stage, heard several seconds of kind words from President Alfred Gottschalk, who then conferred the priestly blessing of ordination on us. We received our beautiful ordination diplomas and walked back to our seats.
What a sharp contrast there was between that ceremony – meaningful as it was – with the ordination-graduation exercises Vickie and I attended on March 27, 2026, at the Academy of Jewish Religion. We were there because our Cantorial soloist at Temple Beth Shalom in Vero Beach, FL, Kelly Onickel received ordination from the academy as both a rabbi and a cantor. Kelly and I worked together last year when I served as Temple Beth Shalom’s interim rabbi. Because her support did so much to make my year successful, I wanted to be there to share this pinnacle moment in her life.
The ordination class was much smaller than mine: three men and seven women became rabbis and cantors. Throughout the proceedings, which began at 2:00 p.m. and ended at around 6:30, each candidate received extensive recognition and affirmation. The ordainees differed in age and sexual orientation. Beyond that, it seemed like none of them was there to prepare for a profession. All had either been working in the Jewish community, and most were not moving on to different jobs by virtue of their ordination.
Kelly Onickel, for example, had worked as a cantorial soloist for many years before and during her years of study. She had already served Temple Beth Shalom for two years, and she plans (at least we all hope she plans) to stay with Temple Beth Shalom for the foreseeable future.
In other words, the primary purpose the students studied at AJR was to deepen and intensify an already deep and intense connection to and desire for Jewish learning. The care the students clearly feel for one another was heartwarming. They marveled at each other’s journey, and they were genuinely thrilled with all their academic and personal milestones. They love one another.
To be sure, some deep friendships developed among my classmates back in the day, but the truth is we were also competing with one another for what felt at the time like a limited number of jobs.
The ten individuals ordained at AJR have such idiosyncratic careers, two as army chaplains, one as a hospital chaplain, one as a pastoral counselor, and some in congregations. It struck me that none of them seemed in competition with any of the others.
Perhaps the starkest difference between the two ceremonies was the connection between the faculty and the graduates. To be sure some of us back then developed special relationships with professors. But for the most part, we viewed the faculty as a set of obstacles we had to get over, under, around, or through, to receive that coveted rabbinical ordination diploma.
By contrast, the AJR faculty knew each student and his or her story intimately. They were fellow travelers and friends with the students on their journey to deeper Jewish knowledge. It was a beautiful sight to behold. The way the Dean and CEO of the seminary, Rabbi Dr. Ora Horn Prouser, could speak with deep knowledge and genuine affection about each of the ordainees was beyond heartwarming.
To witness a ceremony so warm, so personal, so loving, and so affirming of the long journey each of the ordainees has completed was beyond inspiring.
So, I wish more than a hearty Mazel Tov to Kelly and her classmates. I extend my gratitude to them and to the AJR faculty for a truly inspiring day that I shall always remember.





