This year’s Rosh Hashanah cover art was created by Elaine Arenson in 2024 for Chai Cancer Care, the British Jewish community’s national cancer support organization. “This is my tree of Chai, my tree of light,” she wrote about the image. “Through the art group, we find creativity, renewal, community and exceptional care. We discover we are so much more than a cancer diagnosis.”
There is a story behind the centre’s annual card, which is selected from works created by Chai clients who attend art workshops. In 2013, a Chai client received a Rosh Hashanah card and told the centre: “It was so bright and cheerful. It lifted my spirits and gave me courage and strength when I needed it most.”
So, the brief to workshop participants is simple: create an image that reflects the warmth, light, joy and hope at this special time of year, and the tangible impact Chai support has on its clients. A quote from the artist always accompanies the image, explaining the sentiment and inspiration behind the design.
The centre’s Rosh Hashanah cards not only deliver good wishes but are also a source of income for Chai. They are available to buy blank or with a printed message and as ecards. To purchase some, email [email protected]. For more information about Chai Cancer Care, visit chaicancercare.org.
While the symbolism of dipping apples in honey for a sweet new year is well-known, many other foods have added meaning at this time of year, too. (photo from pxhere.com)
To prepare for the most holy days of the Jewish calendar, many people reflect on the past year and some contact those in their lives they may have wronged, asking for forgiveness. Another set of people may be planning what to wear to shul for the two regular annual appearances they make, and some are just doing their best to get back in to the swing of the school year. One of the only things we all do, every single one of us no matter how observant we are of Jewish laws and customs, is eat.
This year, Congregation Beth Israel offered a cooking series for anyone interested in getting in touch with the food side of the holidays. I had the privilege of conducting this three-part series for members of the shul, touching on three distinct ways of looking at holiday cooking.
Jewish cuisine is incredibly diverse, so it was difficult to narrow the themes and recipe choices. I didn’t want to omit the important contributions that Ethiopian Jews or Jews from India have made to the range of recipes we call Jewish food, but, with only three classes, choices had to be made. Luckily, the classes were so popular, the cultures that were underrepresented this time will be explored in classes to come. Hopefully, there will be classes at many different synagogues around the Lower Mainland in the coming year.
The first class at BI focused on Sephardi-Mizrachi food. Sephardi cooking is specifically the cuisine of Jews who trace their heritage to Spain, those Jews who ended up in North Africa, the western parts of the Middle East, as well as some places in Europe, such as Greece. Mizrachi Jews are from farther east, those who may trace their lineage back to the expulsion of Jews from Israel after the destruction of the First Temple, the Babylonian exile. This ancient community spread to other parts of Asia and has a delicious set of foods as well.
A uniting factor for all the cuisines, if one keeps kosher, is the adherence to the laws of kashrut. Availability of ingredients is always a factor when preparing food and, as evidenced by the similarity of Jewish foods to the cuisine of our non-Jewish neighbours, Jewish food is, in essence, food of the world interpreted through a kosher or cultural lens. For example, Italian Jews have their own unique traditions, tracing back to their expulsion from Israel after the destruction of the Second Temple. One creative interpretation of a locally popular Italian food that would have been off limits to observant Jews is prosciutto. Innovative medieval Jews in northern Italy created goose prosciutto, making a trayf delicacy kosher.
My second class in the series centred on Ashkenazi cooking for the High Holidays. Originating in Eastern and Central Europe, these foods are heavily influenced by Slavic and Germanic cuisines. The availability of spices was more limited in Europe back in the day, and the traditional recipes are relatively bland and, in many cases, simple compared to those of our coreligionists to the east.
Unfortunately, the dearth of ingredients had no bearing on the eagerness of our Ashkenazi sages and scholars for limiting the foods to be eaten on various holidays. Many people know of the stringent restrictions on kitniyot for Passover, for example: the beans, lentils, corn and rice that Ashkenazi Jews are traditionally forbidden to eat during Pesach while other Jews happily eat pilafs and lentil soup. Rosh Hashanah is no different.
While not forbidden, there is a strong recommendation to avoid eating nuts. Why? Two reasons. Nuts were understood by medieval scholars to create extra phlegm and would, therefore, cause nut-eaters to disturb the fervent prayer of fellow congregants. Second, and more universally applicable, the sages attributed mystical meaning to the words for many foods, counting the numerical value of their letters (known as gematria) and equating it with other words of significance. The Hebrew word for nut, egoz, has a value of 17, which is the same as the word for sin, or chet, in Hebrew. Therefore, it was concluded that Jews should avoid eating “sins” so close to the time of judgment.
Gematria is also infused into many of the foods we consider symbolic for our spiritual well-being. Gourds and pumpkins are thought to bring us victory over our enemies, beans multiply our merits, and leeks and cabbage are lucky. Round foods like peas, or foods made round, like the challahs this time of year, symbolize the continuing cycle of life. There are many more examples. So, eat up! We want to get as many of these good things in before the final judgment comes down at the end of Yom Kippur!
Pomegranate is also traditionally eaten for Rosh Hashanah. There are two reasons for this. It is one of the seven species listed in the Torah that will be found in the Land of Israel but, also, mystically, it has been said that there are 613 seeds in a pomegranate: the same number of mitzvot in the Torah. Therefore, eating this fruit at this time of year symbolically gives us a leg up on fulfilling as many of the commandments from the Torah in the coming year as possible.
The final class in my series focused on embracing the local food scene and bringing locally available seasonal produce to the High Holiday table because the basis of this series was showcasing new recipes imbued with the kind of Jewish reasoning that has kept the Jewish people both rooted in tradition and relevant to our current time and place. Food is one of the things that unites and gives us a sense of belonging – to our culture, our family and potentially, our spirituality.
Michelle Dodekattended culinary school before the pandemic. She is a long-time contributor to the Jewish Independent, an educator and a balabusta, to boot. Watch for her Jewish food classes.
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Carrots have lots of symbolism related to this time of year, including the resemblance of a round slice to a coin (prosperity) and, for Ashkenazi Jews, the similarity of the word for carrot (mern) to the word for increase/multiply (mehr), as in our good deeds should be multiplied in the coming year. (photo from pexels.com)
MOROCCAN CARROT SALAD (Adapted from Adeena Sussman’s Shabbat: Recipes and Rituals from My Table to Yours, this recipe takes about 50 minutes to prepare and yields 4 cups.)
1 1/2 lbs carrots, peeled, if necessary 2 tsp honey or silan 1 large lemon or lime 1 clove garlic, grated (optional)
1 tsp cumin (or up to 1 1/2 tsp) 1-2 tsp harissa (to taste) 1/2 cup chopped fresh mint 1/4 cup olive oil 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro (optional)* 1 tsp kosher salt 4 Medjool dates pitted, sliced
Cook carrots in salted water until just fork-tender, about 10 minutes. Watch that you don’t overcook them, nobody wants mushy carrot salad. Drain and cool. Meanwhile, mince the herbs and zest then juice the lemon into a medium-sized bowl. Whisk in oil, salt, honey, cumin and garlic. Cut the carrots into coins and coat with dressing. Stir in remaining ingredients.
Serve immediately or hold in the fridge for up to five days. The flavours benefit from a day or two to mellow in the fridge, which is excellent when you need to prepare ahead for a large group.
*Some people intensely dislike cilantro. Make a few portions without it if you’re having a lot of people over for dinner and you don’t know their preferences, or omit it if you’re one ofthose people.
Most shofars are made from a ram’s horn, reminding us of Akeidat Yitzchak (the Binding of Isaac), which supposedly took place on Rosh Hashanah, since a ram was sacrificed in Yitzchak’s place. (photo by Len Radin / flickr)
Around the High Holidays, some young children receive colourful plastic shofars to blow. Are these shofars kosher? Could they be legitimately used during holiday prayers?
While their colour might hold the attention of the children and worshippers, the answer to the above two questions is no. Shofars that can be used ritually come from animals, including rams, antelopes and goats. The long spiral shofar used by Yemenite Jews, for example, comes from the greater kudu, a striped antelope common to some parts of Africa. But most shofars are made from a ram’s horn. In fact, the shofar is sometimes referred to as a “ram’s horn.” This type of horn reminds us of Akeidat Yitzchak (the Binding of Isaac), which supposedly took place on Rosh Hashanah, since a ram was sacrificed in Yitzchak’s place.
A ram’s horn has a wide base surrounding a core bone, which connects to the animal’s head. Once the animal is dead, the horn is separated from the bone, resulting in a horn that is hollow in its wide part, but sealed at its narrow edge. Heat is applied to enable straightening part of the horn (though some rabbis think this should not be done), then it is polished on the outside and an air-passage hole is drilled in the narrow part, allowing it to produce a sound similar to a trumpet, a trombone or a didgeridoo.
According to Mahzor Lev Shalem, the shofar had a variety of uses in the Bible. It was used as a call to war (remember how it was used to miraculously tumble the walls of Jericho in Joshua, Chapter 6), as a call to assemble the community and, most significantly, to note G-d’s descent on Sinai. Later, it became associated with G-d’s call for Jews to repent.
From one specific shofar, a player can typically produce one sound, which depends on the horn’s length – the longer it is, the lower the sound produced by it, and players must use their lips to vibrate the air in the shofar exactly in the resonance frequency of the specific shofar. But Israeli trumpet player Amit Sofer takes the shofar beyond the tekiah, shevarim and teruah routines of the Jewish prayer book, and turns it into a musical instrument. Listen to Sofer’s trio presentation of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” (youtube.com/watch?v=lwaD92UcZME).
The shofar is well traveled. Its Greek cousin, the troumbeta or voukino, for instance, was once used all over Greece. Greek musicologist Fivos Anoyanakis, author of Greek Popular Musical Instruments, notes that this animal horn was used to announce field-wardens and postmen. It closely resembles the shofar.
According to Yad Vashem, during the Shoah, Rabbi Yitzhak Finkler, the Radoszyce rabbi, was incarcerated at Skarzysko-Kamienna, a forced labour camp. Getting hold of a ram’s horn required him to bribe a Polish guard – but the guard brought him an ox horn. It took a second bribe to get the right kind of horn. Then, the rabbi asked camp inmate Moshe Winterter (later Hebraized to Ben Dov), who worked in the camp’s metal shop, to make a shofar.
At first, Winterter refused. Preparing an item that was not an armament, or even carrying something considered contraband from the workshop to the barracks, carried with it a penalty of death. But he relented. So, in 1943, camp inmates heard the shofar blowing. The shofar traveled around wartorn Europe and the United States until Winterter made aliyah. In Israel, he donated the shofar to Yad Vashem.
A year after the Six Day War ended, archeologist Benjamin Mazer discovered the Trumpeting Place inscription (which was written in Hebrew, of course). He discovered the 1st century CE stone in his early excavations of the southern wall of the Temple Mount. It shows just two complete words carved above a wide depression cut into its inner face. The first is translated as “to the place” and the second word “of trumpeting” or “of blasting” or “of blowing.” Today, the stone is on display at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem.
The Trumpeting Place inscription is a stone from the 1st century CE discovered in 1968 by Benjamin Mazar in his excavations of the southern wall of the Temple Mount. The first word translates as “to the place” and the second as “of trumpeting” or “of blasting” or “of blowing.” (Andrey Zeigarnik / wikipedia)
What exactly is the mitzvah of the shofar – the hearing of it being blown or the blowing of it? The written source (Numbers 29:1) of the mitzvah is relatively vague, so the issue was debated by scholars. The verse simply says, “a day of sounding shall be for you.” But, in his Shulchan Aruch, Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488-1575) rules that we make the blessing “to listen to the sound of the shofar” and not “on the blowing of the shofar,” so subsequent halachic (relating to Jewish law) authorities have followed this ruling.
What does this mean for a person who has trouble hearing? In this age of hearing aids and cochlear implants, does one fulfil the mitzvah if one uses a hearing device?
As with many other issues dealing with the interpretation of halachah in modern times, there is a difference of opinion regarding electronic hearing aids. Anyone who is not completely deaf is obligated to hear the shofar, according to all opinions. Rabbi Yehuda Finchas, a worldwide expert, lecturer and author of Medical Halacha, opines that anyone who wears electronic hearing aids should ideally stand near the person blowing shofar and remove the aids when the shofar is sounded. However, according to Hacham Ovadia, if one cannot hear the shofar without such a device, one should wear them and fulfil the mitzvah.
A common custom is to start blowing shofar daily at the time of the morning service in the Hebrew month of Elul, the month preceding Rosh Hashanah. On Rosh Hashanah, the shofar is blown at the time of the Torah reading service. Technically, this happens after the Torah and Haftorah have been read, but before the Torah is returned to the ark. On Yom Kippur, the shofar is blown after the final prayer service of Yom Kippur, Neilah.
Whether a person will hear the shofar being blown on Shabbat depends on the individual’s synagogue affiliation. In the Orthodox and Conservative movements, the shofar is not blown on Shabbat. It is blown, however, in Reform congregations.
Originally, the sages worried that, if shofar blowing was permitted on Shabbat, people might be tempted to violate Shabbat law by carrying a shofar. Rather than risk such a situation, they prohibited any shofar blowing on Shabbat. But, even in Jerusalem, where the shofar would have been blown when the Temple stood, and which has an eruv (a symbolic enclosure within whose borders carrying is permitted) around it, the shofar is not blown in Orthodox and Conservative synagogues.
During the Rosh Hashanah musaf (additional) service, there are three additional sections read: Malchiyot (Kingship), Zichronot (Remembrance) and Shofarot. The Shofarot section provides readers with verses from Exodus and Numbers, Psalms and the Prophets, in which the shofar is mentioned.
Have a meaningful holiday and a happy new year.
Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
If we want to improve our character traits, we need look no further than the latest issue we have in relationships. Do we get angry easily? Or impatient? (photo of universe.roboflow.com)
The Jewish New Year, 5786, is upon us. How can we be better? Life is always giving us opportunities to learn and to grow, and I believe one of the secrets to life-long learning about how to improve ourselves is to “be aware.”
Self-awareness or being mindful is a habit that is nurtured and practised every day. However, it isn’t about sitting quietly when we meditate, although certainly that is one of the ways we train our mind to observe and to be aware. Self-awareness is a process where we listen to our inner voice as well as listening to messages (whether we like them or not) from friends and family.
Paying attention to our reactions when we see someone who is less fortunate is a good place to start to look at our behaviours and character traits. Are you called to be generous or judgmental? Do you react with humility or arrogance when someone cuts in front of you when you are in line at the grocery store? Are you proud of how you respond, or do you think you could do better? Feelings of being unsettled when we leave a conversation may be a hint there is work to do on our inner self.
Awareness starts by watching our day-to-day actions and decisions, especially those where we find ourselves out of sync with friends, family and/or our “Higher Self.” Even those of us who may not have a direct or active connection to a Higher Self are connected to something – we all have a soul. According to the Torah (Genesis 1:27), we are made in the “image of G-d,” and thus we have the capacity to create relationships, show kindness and make the world a better place through being charitable.
If we want to improve our character traits, where do we look? Alan Morinis, author of Everyday Holiness: The Jewish Spiritual Path of Mussar and the forthcoming book The Shabbat Effect, says we need look no further than the latest issue we have in relationships. Do we get angry easily? Or impatient? How is your generosity muscle working? These are character traits that, when out of balance, may be on the spiritual curriculum we have to work on in our lives.
Mussar teaches us to balance our character traits, not eliminate them. If patience (savlanut) is on your spiritual curriculum, the challenge is to watch for opportunities where you can practise “bearing the burden.” Once you identify a trait you want to work on, lo and behold, there are opportunities everywhere to do so.
A new year is an opportunity to take stock of how we are in this world, and how we can be better. It is also a time to be grateful for all our blessings. Sometimes our blessings may not be wrapped in a silver bow, the silver lining yet to be found. There is the concept of win/win – similarly, if one person loses, so too does the other person.
Use this time of year to make a list of where you might improve your everyday interactions, remind yourself of what you are grateful for. Take a moment to journal how you want to improve. Being a kind and generous friend only makes the world a better place. G-d knows we could all use more kindness.
Shelley Karrel is a registered clinical counselor in British Columbia and can be reached at [email protected].
Neshama Carlebach comes to Vancouver for Selichot at Congregation Beth Israel on Sept. 13. (photo by Michael Albany)
After more than two decades, Neshama Carlebach returns to Vancouver. But not for a concert.
The award-winning singer-songwriter will lead, with her band, a musical service at Congregation Beth Israel for Selichot, the night of Sept. 13. The holiday – whose name translates as forgiveness, or pardon – marks the beginning of a period of penitential prayers that runs through Simchat Torah. In addition to participating in the service, Carlebach will speak with Rabbi Jonathan Infeld about her father, the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, his spiritual and musical legacy, and also the pain caused by the sexual misconduct of which he was posthumously accused.
In January 2018, Carlebach wrote a blog on the Times of Israel that addressed the allegations against her father, who died in 1994. She also shared that she had been sexually abused as a child by one of her father’s friends. Writing that blog, she told the Jewish Independent, “was one of the most painful and soul-wrenching things I have ever done. I was standing at the edge of a precipice, holding the truth of my own pain, the pain of others, and the love I still carry for my father, who was no longer alive to respond. The world was shifting in the wake of the #MeToo movement, and I felt an overwhelming need to finally speak and honour the voices of those who had been hurt and silenced – including my own.
“Simultaneously, my career was, in many ways, canceled. Doors closed. Invitations disappeared. People I loved and trusted turned away from me in anger, some even accusing me of betraying my father and his legacy. Perhaps just as painful was watching my family’s music – music that has brought meaning to so many – be rejected and erased.
“Acknowledging my father’s transgressions broke my heart,” said Carlebach, “but it was time for me to speak out – to stand with those who were hurt and to be a part of the possibility of healing, and for the belief that we must be honest to be whole. We must hold space for truth, even when it shatters the fabric of the life we once clung to.”
From the age of 5, Carlebach’s father invited her to share Chassidic stories for his audiences and, by age 15, she was performing alongside him. Since her first album in 1996, she has released 10 records and, worldwide, is one of the bestselling Jewish artists. She is also an advocate for religious pluralism and human rights, as well as being a community leader in other respects. Living in New York with husband Rabbi Menachem Creditor and their five children, she is in the midst of writing a memoir, as well as studying to become a rabbi at the Academy for Jewish Religion.
In 2026, a documentary about Carlebach’s family will be released, with the support of Jewish Story Partners. The blurb on JSP’s website reads: “Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, ‘the Singing Rabbi,’ ignited the spiritual landscape for legions of Jews in a post-Holocaust world. Soon after his death, he is accused of sexual abuse. Thirty years later, with intimate access to his family, inner circle, and his victims, Carlebach Project Untitled grapples with a complicated legacy and how – or whether – to separate the art from the artist.”
“I was just 20 when my father died and, in many ways, I was still a child,” Carlebach told the Independent. “He wasn’t just my father; he was my rabbi and my closest friend. Losing him was like losing my grounding in the world. And when, years later, I began to fully confront the complexities of his life and the pain that others experienced because of him, the grief became more complicated. My career crumbled. I lost community. I lost friends.
“I think what helped me to continue was the music and my connection to God. Even when I wasn’t able to sing professionally, within my own heart I sang and I prayed.
“I still carry and honour my father because I am his daughter and because I believe that love and accountability are not opposites,” she said. “Music has a life of its own, it has always been bigger than the entity which creates it. The legacy I hope I’m building now with my sons is one rooted in truth, in justice, in faith and in love. I choose to believe these are the things he wanted for me, and for the world.”
On Selichot, Sept. 13, Neshama Carlebach will speak with Rabbi Jonathan Infeld about her father, the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, his spiritual and musical legacy, and also the pain caused by the sexual misconduct of which he was posthumously accused. (photo by Joan Roth)
It was after the Hamas terror attacks on Oct. 7, 2023, that Carlebach began creating music with her sons, Rafael and Micah.
“To share the sacred legacy of our family with them, and to witness their light, their depth and their gifts has been one of the greatest blessings of my lifetime,” she said. “My Rafael sadly can’t be with us in Vancouver, as he is starting college, but my Micah will be! We will also be joined by my longtime musical collaborators, pianist and musical director Seth Farber, bass player Brian Glassman and drummer Joe Nero.”
“Originally written in support of the Soviet Jewry Movement, ‘Am Yisrael Chai’ has been an anthem of the Jewish people for over 50 years,” Carlebach wrote in a Times of Israel blog last year. “The melody and words have brought energy, sustenance and unity whenever it’s been sung, often inresponse to hardships facing the Jewish world. In times of need, it is simultaneously a call to action and a prayer, a defiant cry and a message of reassurance. The words, translated as ‘The People of Israel Live,’ were set to music by my father in the 1960s and embraced as part of the Jewish canon. Today, since the horrors of Oct. 7, they have once again become a constant refrain in the Jewish community.”
In another blog, Carlebach, who was born on Simchat Torah, explains why she decided to become a rabbi. “After Oct. 7, Simchat Torah, my heart, my essence and my birthday changed forever,” she wrote. “My Jewish identity and desire to learn have never been stronger. I feel a greater sense of urgency to do my part and bring meaning and holiness to our communities, both in the diaspora and Israel.”
She shared with the Independent the importance of participating in the event at Beth Israel.
“Selichot is the beginning of the High Holy Day season, our holiest time of year,” she said. “It is when we begin to turn inward and ask ourselves the hardest questions: Who have I been? Where have I fallen short? What do I need to repair – in myself, in my relationships, in the world? It’s a time of vulnerability, of accountability and of profound possibility.
“I’ve always envisioned that, on Selichot, the Great Gates of Teshuvah – of Return – first begin to creak open, but slowly, almost in a whisper. Selichot is softer than Rosh Hashanah, more intimate than Yom Kippur. We gather, often late at night, to begin to open our hearts as a community – with prayer, with song, with tears. It’s a time for truth and tenderness.
“It will be incredibly meaningful to gather with the Vancouver community in prayer and in conversation this Selichot. This is the kind of gathering I love most!” she said, commending Rabbi Infeld and the Beth Israel community for being “open and brave enough to engage in this complicated topic.”
“Every year, we work hard to make sure that our Selichot service and program makes a difference in people’s lives,” said Infeld. “The topics are often not easy to discuss, but, every year, people leave the synagogue looking at a situation from a different perspective and as better human beings because they came. We love when people discuss the content of what they heard at the synagogue after Selichot. We believe that this year that will happen as well. Shlomo Carlebach is extremely well known, but the underbelly of the person and his personality are extremely important for us all to discuss – and there is no one better in this world to do that than his daughter, who is also extremely musically talented.”
To invite Carlebach was “a natural choice,” he said, given that the event will honour Harley Rothstein.
“Since we had decided to honour Harley for his many years of service this year, I decided I wanted to do something very special from a musical perspective,” said the rabbi.
“Harley is one of the most humble and generous people I know. He is a constant supporter of our synagogue in many ways. We have been honoured to have him lead services over the years. He has a fabulous voice with great kavanah [intention/devotion],” explained Infeld. “He has a magical ability to engage people in congregational singing and to help engender a warm feeling among all the participants. Harley has gone above and beyond by helping to teach the next generation of service leaders. One of his most important aspects of leadership each year has been the Selichot service with our ba’alat tefillah [prayer leader], Debby Fenson.”
On Sept. 5, during the synagogue’s Shabbat with a Difference Kabbalat Shabbat service, the congregation will honour Fenson on her 20th anniversary with Beth Israel. On Sept. 13, she and Rothstein will lead Havdalah.
The Selichot event with Neshama Carlebach is open to the entire community. To attend, RSVP via bethisrael.ca.
Among the many Shavuot celebrations that took place around British Columbia was PJ Library’s Cheesy Shavuot in collaboration with Congregation Har El. (photo from PJ Library)
The BC Jewish community observed Shavuot June 1-3 in a variety of ways. Here are but a few examples.
Shavuot at Har El. (photo from PJ Library)
On the North Shore, families gathered at Congregation Har El for a celebration hosted by PJ Library and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver. They enjoyed cheesecake, fresh fruit and plenty of laughter while participating in story time with Katia Fermon, PJ Library’s manager. The festivities continued with an interactive musical session led by Monika, which was filled with singing and activities for the kids.
More than 80 community members gathered in Langley for a farm-to-table dairy experience. Families celebrated the holiday with hands-on activities, dairy treats and moments of connection. From feeding and milking cows to churning butter, everyone embraced festive family fun while deepening their connection to the agricultural roots of Shavuot.
The Shavuot celebration also made its way to Whistler, where Rabbi Paul Plotkin led a night of Torah, topped off with ice cream, cheesecake and spirited discussion.
On Salt Spring Island, a Shabbat on the Beach and Shavuot celebration captured the unique spirit of Jewish life in remote communities.
Held on April 15, the Third Seder: Understanding Addiction and the Path to Freedom focused on the slavery of addiction. (photo from JFS Vancouver)
There was matzah, grape juice, charoset and horseradish on the table. Guests read from the Haggadah and enjoyed a meal of matzah ball soup, brisket and roasted vegetables. At first glance, you might think this was just another seder – but it truly was different from all other seder nights.
The Third Seder: Understanding Addiction and the Path to Freedom was held April 15, with Rabbi Joshua Corber, director of Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) Vancouver, at the helm. All the guests had something in common: they were people with or recovering from addiction, or family members of loved ones who have experienced or are still struggling with addiction.
“No situation is more similar to slavery than one’s addiction. Someone who has experienced addiction truly understands what it means to be a slave,” said Corber as he introduced guests to From Bondage to Freedom: A Haggadah with a Commentary Illuminating the Liberation of the Spirit, written by Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski (1930-2021).
“Rabbi Twerski, z”l, is an absolute giant,” Corber explained. “Steeped in Torah learning and Chassidus, he was a psychiatrist who specialized in addiction and, with this background, his ability to leverage Torah as a recovery tool is unparalleled. This is reflected in his Haggadah, but he also led the way for other Torah scholars.”
At all other seders, guests drink wine or grape juice, but at the Third Seder, only grape juice was on the table. Guests recited sections from the Haggadah that wrestled with concepts like liberation from addiction, and how family members could deliver “tough love” by setting boundaries. They expressed their pain and shared their stories with candour.
“Slaves to addiction tend to think recovery isn’t possible,” said one guest, who introduced himself as a recovered alcoholic.
Corber agreed. “I thought addiction was my life, and that I needed to tolerate it,” he confessed. “I was held down by inertia because addiction was the only life I could imagine. In some ways, it was like I was already dead.”
The guests at the seder, which was held at Reuben’s Deli by Omnitsky, ranged in age from 22 to 80. Some were still wrestling with active addiction, while others had been in recovery for lengthy periods. Together, they formed a community of support that was inclusive and devoid of judgment.
“Addiction is a family disease and having a community for recovery is amazing,” one guest declared.
Corber echoed those sentiments. “A goal of JACS is to get the whole community behind the cause of supporting Jews entering recovery or coming out of addiction and, so far, that’s been missing,” he said.
There remains a stigma surrounding addiction, particularly in the Jewish community, Corber said. “There seems to be a reluctance to discuss the matter openly in the community and we have to break this stigma. Addiction is not a choice, it’s a disease. And, while most of us acknowledge this, it has not fundamentally changed our attitudes. Jews who are struggling need to feel supported and accepted by their Jewish community.”
Corber said the Third Seder will become an annual event, and more programming is being planned for Shavuot and other Jewish holidays. For more information, visit jacsvancouver.com.
Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.
“A people driven by hate are not – cannot be – free.” (Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, z”l) (photo from flickr)
According to Exodus 1:8, a new Egyptian king rose to power who did not know Joseph. He did not remember, or did not care, that Joseph, as Egypt’s chief food administrator, had saved the country from famine. As such, this new pharaoh felt no special gratitude toward the Hebrews who had settled in his land so long before. But, while the Torah text deals with pharaoh’s relationship to the Hebrews, it does not address the relationship between the Hebrew slaves and their native Egyptian neighbours.
If we look deeper in the Book of Exodus, we learn that the Hebrew slaves did know the Egyptians – they lived among them. Not only that, but the Hebrews were on good terms with their Egyptian neighbours. Thus, when it was time for the Hebrews to flee from Egypt, their neighbours gave them gifts.
The send-off was carried out in stages. In the first stage, G-d instructs Moses to tell the Hebrews that “each man should ask his neighbour for and each woman of her neighbour, jewels of silver and jewels of gold.” (11:2) It is worth noting that, depending on the context, modern Hebrew might translate neighbour as friend, buddy or colleague. Moreover, the word ask might be translated as borrow – though, since the departing Hebrews had no intention of returning to Egypt, ask is the word to use in this context.
Perhaps G-d was not totally sure how things would work out, so, just to make sure things went as He wanted them to, “He gave the people favour in the eyes of the Egyptians.” This point is apparently so critical that it is repeated soon afterwards: “the Lord gave the people favour in the eyes of the Egyptians that they let the Hebrews have what they asked for.”
Some commentators have said that the Egyptians could not be expected to offer gifts of their own initiative, so the departing Hebrew slaves encouraged them by saying, let us part as friends and we’ll take a parting gift. Others – like Philo in his Life of Moses – observe that the Hebrews were prompted not by love of gain, but by the desire to recoup some of the wages due to them for their slave labour.
The Egyptians, on their part, might have been only too happy to see the Hebrews go, as they were tired of suffering from the increasingly hard-to-take plagues. Thus, in the first chapter of the Book of Exodus, the Hebrews are told to ask for the jewelry and to receive the riches, then they are commanded to “put them on your sonsand daughters.”
While it may seem extravagant to gift someone gold and silver, the ancient Egyptians all wore jewelry, it was more commonplace. According to the article “Egyptian Jewelry: A Window into Ancient Culture,” by Morgan Moroney of Johns Hopkins University and the Brooklyn Museum, “From the predynastic through Roman times, jewelry was made, worn, offered, gifted, buried, stolen, appreciated and lost across genders, generations and classes. Egyptians adorned themselves in a variety of embellishments, including rings, earrings, bracelets, pectorals, necklaces, crowns, girdles and amulets. Most Egyptians wore some type of jewelry during their lifetimes.”
That said, gold and silver are important “not only from an economic but also from a symbolic point of view. Gold, for instance, was regarded as a divine and imperishable substance, its untarnishing nature providing a metaphor of eternal life and its brightness an image of the brilliance of the sun…. The very bones of the gods were said to be of silver, just as their flesh was thought to be of gold,” writes Richard H. Wilkinson in his book Symbol & Magic in Egyptian Art.
Taking this point a step further, we might be able to interpret the Egyptians’ giving of silver and gold as an act of bestowing mystical characteristics on the ancient Hebrews. Certainly, it is a recognition that the Egyptian people viewed the Hebrews well.
However, Rabbi Judah, in the name of Samuel, takes a totally different approach. He claimed that the gold and silver had been collected by Joseph when he stored and then sold corn.
Reportedly, the Hebrews took all the gold and silver when they left Egypt and it was eventually taken to the Land of Israel. It remained there until the time of Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, then changed hands many times. It came back to ancient Israel and stayed until Zedekiah. It changed hands between the various conquerors of Israel and eventually was taken by the Romans. It has stayed in Rome ever since.
While the ancient Egyptians seemingly felt comfortable bestowing gold, silver and clothing on the Hebrews, this act is seen by some as more of a taking than a giving. In 2003, Nabil Hilmy, then dean of the faculty of law at Egypt’s Zagazig University, planned to sue the Jews of the world for the trillions of dollars that he claimed the ancient Hebrews had taken from his country. He theorized: “If we assume that the weight of what was stolen was one ton” and its worth “doubled every 20 years, even if annual interest is only 5% … hence, after 1,000 years, it would be worth 1,125,898,240 million tons.… This is for one stolen ton. The stolen gold is estimated at 300 tons, and it was not stolen for 1,000 years, but for 5,758 years, by the Jewish reckoning. Therefore, the debt is very large.”
That the Egyptians gave the Israelites gifts – willingly or not – is noteworthy. Significantly, in the article “Letting Go,” the late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks notes that Deuteronomy 23:7 tells us that we should not hate Egyptians because you lived as a stranger in their land.
“A people driven by hate are not – cannot be – free,” writes Sacks. “Had the people carried with them a burden of hatred and a desire for revenge, Moses would have taken the Israelites out of Egypt, but he would not have taken Egypt out of the Israelites. They would still be there, bound by chains of anger as restricting as any metal. To be free you have to let go of hate.”
The gifts of gold and silverallowed the former slaves to reach some kind of emotional closure; to feel that a new chapter was beginning; to leave without anger and a sense of humiliation.
Further, Sacks cites 20th-century commentator Benno Jacob, who “translated the word venitzaltem in Exodus 3:22 as ‘you shall save,’ not ‘you shall despoil’ the Egyptians. The gifts they took from their neighbours were intended, Jacob argues, to persuade the Israelites that it was not the Egyptians as a whole, only Pharaoh and the leadership, who were responsible for their enslavement…. They were meant to save the Egyptians from any possible future revenge by Israel.”
This is something to contemplate as we read the Haggadah at our seder this year.
Deborah Rubin Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
After the Israelites escape from Egypt and the Sea of Reeds has returned to its normal flow, with the enslavers either drowned or on the opposite side, Miriam leads the women in singing a song of praise. Apparently, it is the only time in the Torah where women are recorded as seinging their own song.
They did so with instruments they had brought along with whatever necessities one takes when fleeing a bad situation. The women had such a strong belief that they and their people would be free, that there would be occasions to celebrate with song, music, dance, that they made room among their provisions for instruments.
Miriam is older than her brothers Moses and Aaron. “Having been born at the time when the bitter enslavement began, her parents named her ‘Miriam’ (from the Hebrew word meaning ‘bitterness’),” explains an article on chabad.org. However, she was anything but bitter. She was extraordinarily hopeful, continually thinking of the future and how it would be better.
“Miriam was about 6 years old when Pharaoh decreed that all Israelite baby boys be killed,” notes another chabad.org article. “Hearing this, Miriam’s father, Amram, divorced his wife, Yocheved, because he couldn’t bear the possibility of having a son who would be killed. Seeing the actions of Amram, one of the leaders of the generation, all of the other Israelite men followed and divorced their wives as well.
“Miriam told her father, ‘Your act is worse than Pharaoh’s! He decreed that only male children not be permitted to live, but you decreed the same fate for both male and female children!’ She then predicted that her parents would give birth to a son who would save Israel from Egypt.”
The young girl convinced her father to remarry her mother; the other men remarried their wives, as well. Moses and Aaron would not have been born, the Israelites would not have been freed, if not for Miriam.
She also looked over Moses after Yocheved placed him in a basket in the Nile to save him from Pharaoh’s decree. Miriam made sure that Pharaoh’s daughter, Batyah, who rescued Moses, chose Yocheved as his wet-nurse.
There are other stories of Miriam’s courage. Another translation of her name is “rebellion,” and she lives up to this interpretation in many ways. She and her mother were among the midwives who defied Pharaoh’s order to kill any Hebrew boys born, for example, and Miriam is said to have spoken up to Pharaoh when she was only 5 years old.
The multiple symbolisms of Miriam and the often-overlooked importance of women throughout history seemed to call for a medium of similar complexity with roots as ancient. And so, I chose embroidery as the means to express the image of Miriam, timbrel in hand, optimistic about her people’s future, the Sea of Reeds and their lives as slaves behind them.