My former mentor, Rabbi Myron Fenster, would say every Rosh Hashanah—this is a good time to go for an annual physical. And when the doctor says: Stand on the scale, he would ask: which scale?

75 year old Mr. Goldberg is having a physical with a new doctor. The doctor says, “So tell me, Mr. Goldberg, what did your father die from?”

Mr. Goldberg replies, “Excuse me, but did I say my father was dead? My father lives nearby. He’s 100 years old. We’re having dinner together tonight.”

“My sincere apologies, Mr. Goldberg. Then would you kindly tell me the cause of death of your grandfather.”

“Did I say my grandfather is dead? My grandfather is 125 years old. He lives in Miami Beach. In fact, he’s getting married next month.”

“Really,” says the doctor, “but tell me, why would your grandfather want to get married?”

“Did I say he wants to get married?”

And now, as often is the case, life imitates fiction.

Meet Walter Breuning of Great Falls, Montana. Mr. Breuning is 112 years old, and he is believed to be the oldest living person in the world. His grandfather fought in the civil war.

True, Mr. Breuning isn’t 125 years old, and he isn’t getting married, but he is living proof that vitality exists well beyond the 100th birthday. Every day Breuning dresses in a suit and tie and strolls the halls of his retirement complex. He walks the ramp that leads to his second floor apartment. His advice for living to an advanced age? Stay active in body and mind, don’t eat too much and be good to people. Incidentally, Monday is his birthday, when he turns 113.

The number of Americans 100 years and older grows every year. The estimate today is at about 100,000 such individuals. Though it’s more common to see than in the past, it’s still quite a milestone when a person turns 100, and likewise for a synagogue.

This past September 2, B’nai Moshe celebrated its 98th birthday, having been founded in 1911. That means this is the 99th Rosh Hashanah in our synagogue’s history, and next year makes 100.

So how do we commemorate this upcoming 100th anniversary?

First, take a step back in admiration and say a sincere, “wow!” or in the words of Mel Friedman, “Yasher Koach!”

What a great accomplishment, indeed. My parents once had a thriving retail business. My grandmother (my mother’s mother) told my father, “the customers give you twenty years.” My father didn’t believe her, business was so good. And guess what--twenty years after the day they opened, the store was closed. The customers had stopped showing up.

100 years is a long time! After the “wow,” the “yasher koach,” then it’s time to take stock of our history.

When people heard I was coming to be the rabbi of B’nai Moshe, back in 1992, they would ask, with a smile, “do you speak Hungarian?” 17+ years later, I have never been addressed in Hungarian, but nonetheless it behooves all of us to know who we are, from where we have come.

So let’s vow right now to commit these names to our collective memory—these nine Hungarian immigrants, our Founding Fathers--Aaron Hollander, the shul’s first president, Emil Schulman, Sam Edelheit, Herman Goldberg, Ignatz Lebowitz, Sam Greenbaum, Joseph Berger, A. Weisberger, and S. Samual. From time to time, someone will tell me, “My grandfather (or my “so and so”) was one of the founders of B’nai Moshe,” but when I push for details, it turns out to not be true. But these are the ones—this group of nine. Some of their descendents are still affiliated with the synagogue.

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” Have you ever heard someone say this to you, and you’re certain the person is mistaken? A rabbi in Israel approached a tourist and insisted they had once met, despite the tourist’s claim to the contrary. Then the rabbi said with a smile, “Wait a minute, now I remember. You and I stood together at Sinai.”

All Jews living today are supposed to see themselves as having witnessed God’s gift of Torah at Sinai. There’s even an online Jewish dating service called sawyouatsinai.com. If we can believe that we all were there more than 3000 years ago, then 100 years should be a snap. So let’s just do it—let’s all see ourselves as an integral part of the first 100 years of B’nai Moshe.

Let the important dates and milestones of our synagogue’s history enter our kishkes. We should know that the congregation began as Beth Eliyahu in 1911, and didn’t become B’nai Moshe until 1918.

I recently was teaching a class on the first chapter of the book of Joshua, which states that Moshe had died. A student asked if this was the same Moshe from the Torah. Another student quickly replied, “Of course it is—there is only one Moshe!”

“Aha,” I have a chance to tell a story—about the sons of Moshe Gunsberg, and how these “B’nai Moshe” came to be high bidders at an auction, and therefore won the right to re-name the synagogue.

And then a number of students ask, “Gunsberg—any relation to Evan Gunsberg?” What a small world, indeed. The friend of my students, Evan Gunsberg, is a grandson of a grandson of Moshe, a great grandson of one of the original B’nai Moshe.

It has been 98 years since our synagogue began; 80 years since we moved into the beautiful building on Dexter. I was in the Dexter building ten years ago, when the Church that purchased our shul, St. Paul AME Zion, celebrated their 40th anniversary at that location. I spoke from the pulpit to the church congregants. So did Chuck Ruben, who spoke about his and Belle’s wedding at that very site. As we drove to and from our former home, Jerome Horwitz pointed out where he lived and played.

It has been 50 years since our congregation moved to its then new home in Oak Park, on 10 Mile Road, ironically at the corner of Church. (Near the Oregon State Capitol, there exists an intersection of two streets called Church and State—only in America).

So, we celebrate this milestone birthday by embracing our glorious history, but that is not enough.

We only need to turn to the Torah reading for today, the first day of Rosh Hashanah. We read of what Abraham did to celebrate his 100th birthday. He wasn’t the topic for Willard Scott’s segment on the Today Show, sponsored, of course, by Smuckers. Although if he were, Willard would comment about how great Abraham looked for 100 years old.

This is what Abraham was doing—he was ensuring the future of his people. For Abraham’s 100th birthday, he was granted the gift of a child, Isaac. Without Isaac, there is no Jewish people.

What a powerful and fitting message for us. It’s great to look backward and celebrate these first 100 years. But the real test of success, as demonstrated by our father, Abraham, is to look to the future.

That is why we call this year’s annual campaign, The Next 100 Years Club. We need everyone to plant the seeds for the growth of our future, and it starts with each of you making your commitment to the next 100 years, so that our first 100 years will have lasting meaning.

You might ask—I’m just one person, with limited time and resources. How can I be responsible for the future of the synagogue. To this valid concern, I teach you one of the greatest messages of Jewish history, from the mouth of Rabbi Tarfon:

Lo alekha ham’lakhah ligmor; v’lo ata ben chorin libatel mimenah.

You are not required to do everything; but you are likewise not free to do nothing.

Celebrate the past; build for the future. And one final word of wisdom to commemorate our upcoming 100th anniversary.

When I was in Rabbinical School, I had the honor of being present when the Jewish Theological Seminary turned 100 years old in 1986. During the celebration ceremony, Rabbi Seymour Siegal gave the following message:

He told a story about the Rebbe of Chernobyl. Chernobyl, a city in the Ukraine, had been in the news back in 1986 because of an unfortunate accident at a nuclear reactor site. However, we were amused to learn from Rabbi Siegal, that Chernobyl was also the home to a Hasidic dynasty.

It seems that the Rebbe of Chernobyl had once taught that everyone should review his/her lessons 101 times. Naturally, his students inquired, “101? Why not just 100 times?”

The Rebbe answered, “If you review the lesson 100 times, you have omitted One,” and as we know from our Seder tables, One is God. Studying a passage, even 100 times, without feeling God’s presence is a waste of time. So, too, a synagogue which celebrates 100 years without being devoted first and foremost, to seeking God, has lost its course.

I hope you had the opportunity this past Wednesday night to see Ernie Harwell honored during the 3rd inning of the Tigers game. Ernie, recently diagnosed with inoperable cancer, spent more than 40 years as the voice of the Tigers. To this day, Ernie is the only baseball announcer who was ever traded for a player.

What touched me, and I hope you, the other night, were these words:

“In my almost 92 years on this Earth, the Good Lord has blessed me with a great journey.”

God, too, has blessed us with this glorious journey backward to celebrate our past, and forward to ensure our future. Let’s travel this path together.