Tashlich with RJDS

(photo from RJDS)

The day before Yom Kippur, Richmond Jewish Day School students in grades 2 and 5 went to Garry Point Park to do Tashlich. The students learned about why Jews have this custom, and listened to a story about teshuvah (repentance) from Moreh Abba (Brodt). They then sang Avinu Malkeinu together and had two students recite the Tashlich prayer for everyone. The students were given breadcrumbs to throw in the water, symbolizing the getting rid of sins.

“Today, we went to Garry Point to say Tashlich,” said one of the students, describing her experience. “We had lots of fun there. We threw breadcrumbs in the water. Each breadcrumb represents my sins I did over the year. I’m so thankful I get to have an opportunity to say sorry to Hashem and ask for forgiveness.”

Chaya Malul is a Grade 5 student at Richmond Jewish Day School.

Sukkot at the Bayit

Bayit Rabbi Levi Varnai, MLA Jas Johal, Chabad of Richmond Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, Bayit board member Keith Liedtke, Joe Dasilva, Bayit president Michael Sachs, MLA Mike Bernier, MLA Teresa Wat and MLA John Yap. (photo by Lauren Kramer)

photo - Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, Michael Sachs, Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver head Ezra Shanken, Mike Bernier, Rabbi Avraham Feigelstock and chief executive officer Rabbi Levi Varnai
Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, Michael Sachs, Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver head Ezra Shanken, Mike Bernier, Rabbi Avraham Feigelstock and chief executive officer Rabbi Levi Varnai. (photo by Lauren Krame

On the evening of Oct. 8, the Bayit and Chabad of Richmond hosted a Sukkot carnival called Shakes in the Shack. Scores of Richmond Jewish, and non-Jewish, community members came out and enjoyed the festivities.

A holiday for memories

When it comes to Rosh Hashanah, I’m a big fan. It’s hard not to love a Jewish holiday that’s all about spiritual renewal, deep reflection and heartfelt promises to work harder to present our “better selves” to those around us. But, as I move into my mid-40s, I’m realizing there’s more than that to the Jewish New Year – more than those deep brown challahs filled with sweet raisins, more than the novelty of dipping apples in golden honey and dripping them all over the tablecloth before a great meal. Rosh Hashanah is also a profound vessel of memory and, as I defrost my brisket, hunt for the best-yet new quinoa recipe and knead and shape my challahs, I’ll be thinking of the past.

I don’t realize, until Rosh Hashanah rolls around, how vividly that past is available. I yank those memories from the recesses of my mind and daydream my way back to a 14-year-old self growing up in Cape Town, South Africa. Back then, Rosh Hashanah meant receiving a batch of my grandmother’s taiglach, a recipe I’m still determined to tackle and one that will take me, in spirit, immediately and joyfully, into her tiny kitchen. It meant hours in synagogue, listening to the deep baritone voices of the Rondebosch shul choir, and the wonderful melodies of the cantor, who we imported from Israel for that time of year.

It meant family discussions on who to invite to our Rosh Hashanah table, and long debates about whether we could tolerate, for another year, the uncle who arrived in his farm-stained overalls and fell asleep on the sofa before the meal was over. Or the aunt who was always asking for recipes (and never using them) and used fingers, rather than salad servers, to select the leafy greens she wanted on her plate.

There were wild cousins whose antics my parents weren’t certain they wanted unleashed in the house. And friends whose children my sister and I wanted nothing to do with and campaigned loudly for their removal from the guest list.

With hours before the festival’s arrival, as my mother’s culinary activities sent rich aromas wafting over the house, we kids were in charge of setting the table and removing from the dusty cabinet the exquisite glasses my parents had bought while on a Venice honeymoon 15 years earlier. We’d craft name tags and carefully position them around the table, ensuring we occupied the best seats in the house. And we’d decant the wine an elderly relative had made, pouring it carefully into the crystal decanter only used on such occasions.

At the time, I rolled my eyes at the list of chores, grateful for the reprieve from school but unappreciative, as only a teenager with little worldly experience can be, of the treasures at that table. The family members we’d lose as age and cancer robbed them of more time with us. The recipes I’d never have the foresight to record and the hugs and kisses I never cherished long enough.

What I did bring with me over the decades, that would follow me into married life with children, was an unbridled love for Rosh Hashanah and a determination to make it as memory-laden, meaningful and delicious as possible in my home. It’s why, this year and in the years ahead, I’ll spend hours on dishes I’d never normally prepare: sodium-filled chicken soup with kneidlach, tender brisket that will tempt even the avowed vegetarians among my kids and wafer-thin kichel biscuits, perfect with chopped herring. Maybe I’ll even summon the courage to attempt baking sweet, sticky taiglach, a recipe that requires copious amounts of syrup and hours of careful babysitting.

I’ll do all this and more in the name of memory, because it will conjure my own past, a continent and lifetime away, so vividly. And I’ll hug my kids extra-tight, subdued in the knowledge that, one day, they, too, will celebrate this holiday with their own families after I’m six feet under, hopefully cherishing the food and love-laden Rosh Hashanah memories of their own long-gone childhoods.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.

On making a new start

Why is it so hard for many of us to shake off the past and begin anew? My Bride often tells me she finds it amazing how easily I forgive myself for my errors. She holds her misgivings about past actions to her breast for eternity. For me, when I forgive myself, I find it much easier to strike off in another direction, one which may, or may not, lead to a better result.

Maybe it has something to do with my background. As an adherent to Judaism, I have always been much taken by the ideas associated with the Jewish New Year. Rosh Hashanah, occurring in the autumn, as determined by the lunar calendar, is one of our major holidays. It is a happy holiday, a time of feasting and family gatherings, celebrating that we managed to get safely through another year. And there are lots of wishes expressed that we might do the same again next year, even marking it in our spiritual birthplace, Jerusalem.

But there is a serious side to the holiday as well. The New Year will be followed closely by the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur, when all Jews are assessed and judged as to what their fate will be in the year to come. So, the New Year is a time when all Jews are expected to examine their behaviours and make resolutions that, hopefully, will guide their actions more positively in the coming year.

To do so, one has to search one’s conscience, one has to admit to oneself all those things that we have done wrong, that only we know about. We have to admit to ourselves remorse for our actions that we know have not been correct in the light of our values. Then we have to decide that we will not do those things again. We have to forgive ourselves and resolve to do differently. Indeed, during this season, many individuals go out of their way to visit antagonists and others to whom they may have done wrong to beg pardon for any perceived excesses to which they may have been a party.

So, you can see that I come by my approach rightly. It was imbibed with my mother’s milk. Judaism is not unique in including this concept within its construct. It seems to be an important element within many religious and philosophical approaches as to how humans should live. The key thing to me is that we have to be able to forgive ourselves so that our contrition can motivate actions toward a new start.

I must admit I always feel refreshed when I am in the position of having cast off the constrictions imposed by ideas I have been forced to abandon. Ahead of me lie whole new worlds of possibilities. That old stuff didn’t work. What did I learn? Where can I go from here?

What about that idea that we discarded before as impractical, impossible? Could there be something in it? What about what Joe suggested, which we shouted down? Maybe we should ask him to explain it more fully. Could there be something in it that we missed? He has had good ideas before. What if we put that idea together with the one we had? Could that give us a better result? Anybody who has spent a part of his or her life confronting problems, and problem-solving, in concert with other people, will know that of which I speak.

Don’t we feel better after we have cleared the decks with an old adversary? Now maybe we can make a fresh start and work together to accomplish common goals that we share. Isn’t it great when the difference you have had with your spouse has been resolved and you have returned together to the zone of loving and sharing that you were in danger of losing? Isn’t that more important than things that may have divided you? Aren’t so many long-term relationships built by making new starts over and over again?

The Jewish New Year ethic is a part of how we can live our lives each day. Making a fresh start is what we can do every day we wake up. We all know there are things percolating on the back burner. We may not want to think about some of these things. We may push them off to the back of our minds because of their unpleasantness. But they don’t go away. They are the things we will have to tackle if we want to make a fresh start in some important area of our lives.

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His recently published Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

What kids can teach

Rosh Hashanah is a time to take stock of the previous year and prepare yourself spiritually for the year ahead. But for those of us with busy families, it can be hard to squeeze time for reflection into the round of Yom Tov preparations. It seems that, once you have children, the holiday focus goes from attending shul to tending to your children and, as rewarding as parenting can be, it leaves little time for focusing on spiritual growth. Yet, one of our most important jobs as parents is to teach our children the concepts of teshuvah (repentance), tefilah (prayer) and tzedakah (charity/justice). How are you supposed to teach these values to your children when you may not have time to connect to them yourself?

Child education expert Moshe Beller has found that the answer lies within the very task at hand – by watching your children.

As director of Beit Metzudot School at Seeach Sod, an Israeli organization for kids and adults with special needs, Beller must often answer tough questions about how to teach children these important values. His answer – emunah (faith/belief) – in them, yourself and, ultimately, in Hashem.

“Here at Seeach Sod, we work with children of all ages and abilities. When we approach educating a child, we look at every detail, from the diagnosis, available therapies and interventions, family circumstances and more. Then we calculate it all to find a solution that best serves the individual child. Though I cannot tell you one therapy that works for every situation, I can say that, at the core of every treatment, is believing that your child can succeed – there is no greater intervention than that!”

Sounds good, but how can we tap into that elusive ideal? If you haven’t guessed it already, it’s our children who can teach us that as well.

Children have a profound ability to trust their parents to lead them. Even if they don’t always follow what you say, they trust you with their life essentials. They trust you will keep them safe, fed, clothed, etc. This level of emunah is one we should allow ourselves to tap into when it comes to grappling with G-d. Mirror what your child displays regularly – let go of the worries that hold you back and know that everything is being taken care of for your benefit.

As for teshuvah, an essential element of teshuvah is believing you can start anew, that you can learn from your mistakes without your ego holding you back. Children display this to us with their ability to live in the moment. They don’t condemn their past actions or the past actions of others like adults do. They’re excited to learn and grow without fear of admitting they don’t know it all.

With respect to tefilah, a key to heartful prayer is awe. A sense of G-d’s greatness and the miracles that surround us each day opens possibilities to so much more. Children have the ability to be wowed by things we take for granted. As adults, we become jaded and forget that the simple pleasures surrounding us are in fact miraculous. Learn from your children and find wonder in the simple creations.

Finally, tzedakah. Have you ever seen how a child lights up when you tell them you need their help? At the core of generosity is the understanding that, no matter what your financial situation is, we all have something we can offer to another. Children take much pride in being able to help, whether or not being of genuine assistance is within their capabilities. We, too, can take the same joy in giving tzedakah and doing acts of chesed (loving-kindness).

This year, instead of seeing your children as a distraction from the path to spiritual preparation for the High Holidays, look to them to guide you towards a year of growth.

 

Recipes for a tradition

(photo by Noa Fisher via PikiWiki-Israel)

Pomegranates are referred to in the Bible in many various ways. In the sensual poetry of Song of Songs, we read, “I went down into the garden of nuts … to see whether the vine budded and the pomegranates were in flower.” In another passage, the poet writes, “I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranate.” Song of Songs has four additional mentions of pomegranates, and there are also references in Joel, Haggai and I Kings.

For many Jews, pomegranates are traditional for Rosh Hashanah. Some believe the dull and leathery skinned, crimson fruit may have really been the tapuach, apple, of the Garden of Eden. According to Forward “Food Maven” Matthew Goodman, the pomegranate originated in Persia and is one of the world’s oldest cultivated fruits, having been domesticated around 4000 BCE. The Egyptians imported pomegranates from the Holy Land in 1150 BCE and natural pomegranate juice, made into spiced wine, was a favourite of Hebrews living in Egypt. Pomegranate wood could also be carved into skewers on which to roast the lamb for Passover.

The word pomegranate means “grained apple.” In Hebrew, it is called rimon, which is also the word for hand grenade! In fact, the English term “hand grenade” is said to come from this and that both the town of Granada in Spain and the stone garnet come from the name and colour of the pomegranate. The juice can also be made into grenadine.

The Hebrews yearned for the pomegranates they left behind in Egypt while wandering in the desert – “And wherefore have ye made us to come up out of Egypt, to bring us in unto this evil place? It is no place of seed, or of figs, or of vines, or of pomegranates.” (Numbers 20:5) And the spies reported their findings in Canaan to Moses: “And they came unto the valley Eshkol and cut down from thence a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bore it upon a pole between two; they took also of the pomegranates and of the figs.” (Numbers 13:23)

Pomegranates were also used on the faces of the shekel in the second century BCE. King Solomon had an orchard of pomegranates, and pomegranates of brass were part of the pillars of his great Temple in Jerusalem. Throughout the Bible, pomegranates are referred to as a symbol of fertility. As well, in the Jewish mystical tradition of kabbalah, it is said there are 613 seeds in each pomegranate, equaling the number of mitzvot commanded by God.

On the second night of Rosh Hashanah, when it is customary to eat a “new” fruit, one that celebrants have not eaten during the year, many Sephardi Jews choose the pomegranate. They recite the prayer “ken yehi ratzon, may it be thy will, O Creator, that our year be rich and replete with blessings, as the pomegranate is rich and replete with seeds.”

In modern days, a study at the Technion in Haifa a few years ago showed the power of the fruit. The cholesterol oxidation process, which creates lesions that narrow arteries and result in heart disease, was slowed by as much as 40% when subjects drank two to three ounces of pomegranate juice a day for two weeks. The juice reduced the retention of LDL, the “bad” cholesterol that aggregates and forms lesions. When subjects stopped drinking the juice, the beneficial effects lasted about a month. Other studies have shown that pomegranates fight inflammation and cancer, and slow cellular aging. Pomegranates are a good source of potassium, low in calories and low in sodium.

When choosing a pomegranate, look for one that is large, brightly coloured and has a shiny skin. You should store a pomegranate in a plastic bag in the refrigerator, and it can keep up to 10 weeks. To open a pomegranate, score the outside skin into four pieces, then break the fruit apart with your hands following the divisions of the membranes. Pull off the membranes then scrape the seeds into your mouth or lift them out with a spoon. Here are some recipes for those seeds.

POMEGRANATE SYRUP

6 pomegranates
1/3 cup white sugar
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 cinnamon stick
1/8 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp allspice

  1. Puree seeds from pomegranates in blender or food processor and strain. Place in saucepan.
  2. Add white sugar, brown sugar and cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer about 10 minutes. Add nutmeg and allspice and cook one minute.
  3. Remove from heat, discard cinnamon stick and strain.

BAKED APPLES IN POMEGRANATE SYRUP
6-8 servings

4 slightly tart apples
1 halved pomegranate
apple juice
1/3 cup preserves of your choice
1/2 tsp cinnamon

  1. Cut each apple into four wedges. Place in microwavable dish.
  2. Squeeze juice from half the pomegranate into a measuring cup. Add enough apple juice to make half a cup. Add preserves and cinnamon and mix well. Pour over apples to coat them.
  3. Cover with plastic wrap and microwave for two minutes. Stir and microwave two more minutes. Place apple wedges in serving dishes.
  4. Remove seeds from other half of pomegranate and garnish apples.

POMEGRANATE FRUIT SOUFFLE

3 eggs
1 cup + 3 tbsp confectioners’ sugar
1 tbsp unflavoured gelatin
1/2 cup hot water
1/2 cup cold water
7 tbsp orange juice
2 1/2 tbsp lemon juice
pulp and seeds of 6 pomegranates

  1. Place yolks and sugar in a saucepan over a second saucepan filled with water (double boiler-style). Cook, stirring, until thick and creamy.
  2. Dissolve gelatin in a bowl of hot water. Then stir in cold water.
  3. Add orange juice, lemon juice, pomegranate pulp and seeds and mix.
  4. Add juice mixture to egg yolk mixture.
  5. Beat egg whites until stiff. Fold into pomegranate mixture. Pour into a soufflé dish or casserole with height built up of three to four inches with a double thickness of wax paper or aluminum foil, stapled or held in place with a paper clip.
  6. Chill in refrigerator until set. Remove band of paper. Decorate with whipped cream.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.

Apples and honey – so good

(photo by Markus Hagenlocher)

One of the most well-known customs of Rosh Hashanah is the dipping of apple pieces in honey but what is its origin?

In the time of King David, we know he had a “cake made in a pan and a sweet cake” (II Samuel 6: 15, 19) given to everyone. Hosea 3:1 identifies the “sweet cake” as a raisin cake.

The Torah also describes Israel as eretz zvat chalav u’dvash, the land flowing with milk and honey, although the honey was more than likely date honey, a custom retained by many Sephardi Jews to this day.

While honey may have been used in King David’s cake, the honey of ancient Eretz Yisrael was made from dates, grapes, figs or raisins because there were no domestic bees in the land. At that time, only the Syrian bees were there and, to extract honey from their combs, it had to be smoked. Still, honey was of importance in biblical times, as there was no sugar then.

During the Roman period, Italian bees were introduced to the Middle East, and bee honey became more common. Today, Israel has roughly 500 beekeepers who have some 90,000 beehives, which produce more than 3,500 tons of honey annually. Kibbutz Yad Mordechai is the largest producer of honey – 10,000 bottles a day.

Among Ashkenazi Jews, challah is dipped in honey on Rosh Hashanah, instead of having the usual salt sprinkled on it. The blessing over the apple is, “May it be Your will to renew for us a good and sweet year,” before it is dipped in honey.

Dipping the apple in honey on Rosh Hashanah is said to symbolize the desire for a sweet new year. Why an apple? In Bereishit, Isaac compares the fragrance of his son, Jacob (who he thinks is his son Esau), to a field, and Rashi says it is sadeh shel tapuchim, a field of apple trees.

Scholars tell us that mystical powers were ascribed to the apple, and people believed it provided good health and personal well-being.

Some attribute the using of an apple at Rosh Hashanah to the translation of the story of Adam and Eve and the forbidden fruit, which caused the expulsion from paradise. The Garden of Eden is also called Chakal Tapuchim, “Garden (or field) of Apple Trees.”

According to Gil Marks (z”l) in Encyclopedia of Jewish Food, “the first recorded association of apples with Rosh Hashanah was in Machzor Vitry, a siddur compiled around 1100, which included this explanation: ‘The residents of France have the custom to eat on Rosh Hashanah red apples….’ Future generations of Ashkenazim adopted the French custom … leading to the most popular and widespread Ashkenazi Rosh Hashanah tradition.”

Rabbi Jacob ben Asher, born around 1269, who fled with his family to Spain in 1303, was the first to mention the custom of apples dipped in honey in his legal compendium Arbah Turim, circa 1310, citing it as a German tradition.

Rabbi Alexander Susslein of Frankfurt, Germany, a 14th-century rabbinic authority, revealed it had become a widespread practice in Germany.

A few years ago, an article revealed that the average Israeli eats 125 apples and 750 grams of honey a year, mostly around the High Holy Days. Israel is very self-sufficient with regard to apples, with around 9,900 acres cultivated yearly, grown in the north, the Galilee hills and the Golan Heights. The most popular types of apples grown are Golden Delicious, Starking, Granny Smith, Jonathan, Gala and Pink Lady.

Honey in Hebrew, dvash, has the same numerical value as the words Av Harachamim, Father of Mercy. We hope that G-d will be merciful on Rosh Hashanah as He judges us for our year’s deeds.

Moroccans dip apples in honey and serve cooked quince, which is an apple-like fruit, symbolizing a sweet future. Other Moroccans dip dates in sesame and anise seeds and powdered sugar in addition to dipping apples in honey. Among some Jews from Egypt, a sweet jelly made of gourds or coconut is used to ensure a sweet year and apples are dipped in sugar water instead of in honey.

Honey is also used by Jews around the world not only for dipping apples but in desserts. Some believe in the phrase, “go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet,” the sweet referring to apples and honey. Here are some recipes using honey for your Rosh Hashanah eating.

TISHPISHTI: MIDDLE EASTERN HONEY-NUT CAKE

Honey syrup:
1 1/2 cups honey
2/3 cup water
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 cup lemon juice

Cake:
2 cups finely ground almonds, hazelnuts, pistachios or walnuts
1 cup cake meal
2 tsp orange juice
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp allspice or ground cloves
6 eggs
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 tbsp grated orange or lemon zest

  1. Stir honey, water, sugar and lemon juice in a saucepan over low heat until the sugar dissolves, about five minutes. Increase heat to medium, bring to a boil and boil for one minute. Let cool.
  2. Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 13-by-nine-inch baking pan.
  3. Combine nuts, cake meal, cinnamon and cloves in a mixing bowl.
  4. In another bowl, beat egg yolks with sugar. Add to nut mixture with orange juice. Add oil and orange or lemon zest.
  5. In a third bowl, beat egg whites until stiff but not dry. Fold into batter. Pour batter into baking pan and bake for 45 minutes. Cool.
  6. Cut cake into one- to two-inch squares or diamonds. Drizzle cooled syrup over the warm cake. Serve at warm or room temperature.

MY GRANDMA SADE’S TEIGLACH
Though my grandmother was born in New Jersey, her mother came to the United States as a young girl from Russia, so she probably learned this dish from her mother. Teiglach means “little dough pieces,” and it was originally for family celebrations and various holidays. Today, it is made primarily for Rosh Hashanah as a symbol for a sweet new year. According to my favourite reference book for any food, Marks’ Encyclopedia of Jewish Food, Teiglach was brought to the United States by Eastern Europeans in the early 1900s, and nuts were not part of the recipe in the old country.

2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
4 tbsp oil
4 eggs
1/8 tsp salt
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 1/3 cups honey
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1 cup finely chopped pecans

  1. In a mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, oil, eggs and salt. Stir until dough is formed.
  2. In a saucepan, boil sugar, honey, ginger and nutmeg for 15 minutes.
  3. Wet a board with cold water.
  4. Pinch pieces of dough and drop them into the boiling honey mixture. Cook until very thick. Add nuts and stir. Pour honeyed pieces onto the wet board and cool slightly.
  5. With wet hands, shape dough into two-inch balls or squares. Let cool. Store in an airtight container.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.

Despair tempered by hope

On the Sabbath preceding the fast of Tisha b’Av, the ninth of the Hebrew month of Av, we read in our synagogues from Isaiah, and this reading is one of the three “Haftorahs of Rebuke.” The fast completes the cycle of the Jewish year and commemorates the destruction of the Temple in 586 BCE by the Babylonians and, 656 years later, on the same date, when the

Romans destroyed the Second Temple.

The prophet Isaiah, from whose book we read, was the son of Amos, a native of Jerusalem. He came from a respected family that moved in royal circles and was a prophet in Israel from 740 to 701 BCE. These were stirring years, for the kingdoms of Syria and Israel both fell to the Assyrians in 721 and only by a miracle was Jerusalem delivered from their grasp 20 years later. Isaiah brought the message of the holiness and sovereignty of God, seeking to interpret the crises of history in the light of Divine guidance.

On Tisha b’Av, we read from Lamentations and the writings of another prophet, Hosea. In describing Jerusalem, he wrote: “for their mother hath played the harlot … she that conceived them hath done shamefully….” (Hosea 11:7)

There is an interesting story connected with Hosea. He was married to a woman called Gomer, beautiful but faithless, who eventually ran off with one of her lovers, later becoming a slave and a concubine. Despite her degradation, Hosea continued to love her and bought her back from slavery. He did not take her back as his wife, but as a ward who he hoped would one day repent and be worthy of his protection.

During this period, Hosea had a strange awakening. He felt that this traumatic personal experience was symbolic of God’s love for Israel. The loving husband who had been abandoned by a faithless wife could be compared to God’s beneficence towards Israel, who repaid Him by worshipping the golden calf. God had redeemed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and made them His special people. Yet, instead of keeping their part of the covenant made at Mount Sinai with God, they adopted the idolatrous practices of the Canaanites, forsaking their God for heathen idols.

However, just as Hosea continued to feel love for Gomer, he realized that God’s love for His people would not change. Just as he did not despair that his wife would one day repent, he believed that God’s everlasting mercies also encompassed His sinning people and that their exile would lead to self-knowledge and a return to God.

When Hosea realized the similarity between his wife’s conduct and that of Israel, he felt that his marriage to Gomer had been preordained and was God’s way of speaking to him.

So, while we mourn the destruction of the Temple and the many tragedies that have befallen our people through history, we can still take comfort in the fact that God’s compassion is ever available to us when we truly repent. In Judaism, despair is always tempered by hope. Because of this, we conclude the Tisha b’Av reading with the words: “Turn us unto Thee O Lord, that we may be turned. Renew our days as of old.”

Dvora Waysman is a Jerusalem-based author. She has written 14 books, including The Pomegranate Pendant, which was made into a movie, and her latest novella, Searching for Sarah. She can be contacted at dwaysman@gmail.com or through her blog dvorawaysman.com.

Happy Canada Day 150!

The Hon. Jody Wilson-Raybould, minister of justice and attorney general of Canada (MP for Vancouver Granville), at the Canada Day celebration in Douglas Park, which is in JI publisher Cynthia Ramsay’s neighbourhood. (photo from twitter.com/puglaas)

photo - George Heyman, MLA for Vancouver-Fairview, was also at hand at the Douglas Park party. He is seen here speaking with David Berson, left, and Mary Gillis
George Heyman, MLA for Vancouver-Fairview, was also at hand at the Douglas Park party. He is seen here speaking with David Berson, left, and Mary Gillis. (photo by Franco Pante)
photo - The JI’s Pat Johnson, right, helped represent the Regional Animal Protection Society in the Steveston Salmon Festival Parade on Canada Day
The JI’s Pat Johnson, right, helped represent the Regional Animal Protection Society in the Steveston Salmon Festival Parade on Canada Day. (photo by Alan Marchant)
photo - The JI’s Leanne Jacobsen (in the baseball cap) participated in the North Vancouver Canada Day Parade with her North Shore Dragon Busters teammates
The JI’s Leanne Jacobsen (in the baseball cap) participated in the North Vancouver Canada Day Parade with her North Shore Dragon Busters teammates. (photo by Jonathan Ross)
photo - PADS puppy-in-training Pika, in the care of JI production manager Josie Tonio McCarthy, heads out to celebrate Canada Day
PADS puppy-in-training Pika, in the care of JI production manager Josie Tonio McCarthy, heads out to celebrate Canada Day. (photo by Josie Tonio McCarthy)

BBQ party for Lag b’Omer

Approximately 300 people celebrated Lag b’Omer at David Livingstone Park on May 14. (all images are screenshots from the video by LNP)

Chabad East Van, Chabad of Richmond, Chabad Lubavitch BC, Ohel Ya’akov Community Kollel, Tzivos Hashem Vancouver (a Kollel program) and Chabad of Downtown hosted a community BBQ at David Livingstone Park in honour of Lag b’Omer on May 14. Approximately 300 people attended and kids from Tzivos Hashem did a presentation and led a short program. There was food, music, prizes and sports. A video by Lior Noyman Productions, which captures some of the afternoon’s highlights, can be found on YouTube.

screenshot - Lag b’Omer BBQ at David Livingstone Park on May 14

screenshot - Lag b’Omer BBQ at David Livingstone Park on May 14

screenshot - Lag b’Omer BBQ at David Livingstone Park on May 14