Chabad honors Rebbe

Rabbi Shlomo Riskin speaks to the Vancouver audience via webcast. (photo by Cynthia Ramsay)

Empowerment. Scholarship. Connection. Each of these words was used more than once to describe the Rebbe – Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, z”l – and his impact during the July 9 community commemoration of the 20th year since his passing.

At Chabad Lubavitch at Oak and 41st, the six B.C. Chabad Houses hosted a night of learning, with workshops and dinner, followed by a speech, via webcast, from Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, chief rabbi of Efrat, Israel, and chancellor of Ohr Torah Stone in Israel, and the video The Rebbe: Marching Orders.

Timeless Leadership: An Evening of Inspiration offered two sets of workshops from which attendees could choose. The first set comprised Turning Lubavitch Outward by Rabbi Yitzchok Wineberg of Chabad Lubavitch BC; The Rebbe’s Melodies by Rabbi Falik Schtroks of the Centre for Judaism in White Rock; and Stories of the Rebbe by Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman of Chabad of Richmond. The second set was The Wisdom of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Rabbi Binyomin Bitton of Chabad of Downtown, and The Rebbe’s Advice by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld of Camp Gan Israel; Rabbi Meir Kaplan of Chabad of Vancouver Island, was unable to attend.

Among the handouts was a timeline of Schneerson’s life prior to his becoming the Rebbe. Born in Ukraine in 1902, Schneerson was considered a child prodigy and, by the time he was in his teens, he was exchanging letters with respected scholars. He married Chaya Mushka, the daughter of the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, in Poland in 1928. He then went to the University of Berlin, followed by the ESTL engineering school and the Sorbonne in Paris, while also giving Torah classes and the like. When the Nazis conquered Paris, the Rebbe and his wife managed to escape, by ship from Lisbon to New York. At his father-in-law’s behest, Schneerson became a director of multiple Lubavitch organizations and began to publish his thoughts on Chassidic tracts and write responsa. In 1951, a year after his father-in-law died, Schneerson became the Rebbe.

Wineberg, who gave a brief overview of Chabad’s history, called Schneerson “a Rebbe for our times.” A more critical problem in our age – the last 65, and especially the last 30-35, years – than assimilation, said Wineberg, has been low self-esteem. In this context, he highlighted the Rebbe’s belief that, “There is no such thing as a small Jew.” The Rebbe took what was an insular, study-focused organization and, while keeping the foundation of Torah and study, broadened its vision to include all Jews, said Wineberg, noting that the Rebbe connected with every single person he encountered. The Rebbe, he said, was the inspiration behind Chabad heading to campuses, to welcoming Jews to dinner, to prayer, to don tefillin.

Bitton provided some statistics on the Rebbe’s outreach and his scholarly contributions: he spoke on 31,393 occasions, for example, and 11,700 of his letters have been published so far; there are tens of thousands of pages of his writings. The Rebbe’s unique approach to learning, explained Bitton, is that he connected talmudic understanding with its kabbalistic translation. When the Rebbe analyzed an idea, said Bitton, he peeled its exterior layers away and got to the pure essence of the idea, the quintessential idea that was at the root of the discussion. For the Rebbe, he said, kol haTorah inyan echad, the entire Torah is one “topic.”

In telling the stories of his encounters with the Rebbe, Riskin echoed some of the sentiments shared by the local Chabad rabbis in their presentations. He compared the Rebbe to Moses, in that, as Moses is still alive in a sense because his teachings continue to be studied, the same is true of the Rebbe. “Certainly for me,” said Riskin, “because not only did he change my life, but he gave me fundamental messages by which I live my life, and which informed my world of education … and my world of the rabbinate.”

Riskin shared how he became the founding rabbi of Lincoln Square Synagogue in the mid-1960s. Having attended Yeshivah University on scholarships, he wanted to repay the institution and agreed to do some speaking engagements after receiving his ordination, one of which was at “a kind of Rosh Hashanah-Yom Kippur synagogue” that didn’t have its own building and was in what was then a poor neighborhood. They had a rabbi and were relatively satisfied but not completely, so they approached YU and, after Riskin came for one Motzei Shabbat, they wanted to hire him. When deciding whether or not to accept the pulpit, Riskin was conflicted and received conflicting advice. So, he asked for a meeting with the Rebbe, who told him to listen to his own rebbe (Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik, z”l), adding that, “In every battle, there are people who have to get dressed like the enemy and go into the enemy territory … and you will not only win the battle, you will win the war.”

When Riskin argued that his future congregants have no background and that he would have nothing with which to work, the Rebbe said, “You can never say about a Jew that he has no background. Every Jew has a kingly background; every Jew is, after all, a descendant of Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, of Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah…. I left the Rebbe’s presence awestruck, and with a very profound sense of empowerment.”

Another encounter with the Rebbe took place after Riskin had spent time working with an eccentric, wealthy man who, when he met Riskin was non-observant and married to a non-Jew. After that initial meeting, Riskin accepted the man as a single member of the shul (i.e. without his wife) but later found himself doubting that decision. When he asked the Rebbe about it, the Rebbe never told Riskin whether he’d made the right decision, but rather said, “No one is able to truly evaluate the profound value of the Jewish soul.” This meant, said Riskin, that “every Jew has an affinity to Torah and you can never give up on any Jew no matter how far away he may have went. And that, too, has become a very important part of my teaching.”

When Riskin was making aliyah, he could not meet with the Rebbe directly – because of the Rebbe’s ill health following a heart attack – but he received his blessing through Soloveitchik at a farbrengen (Chassidic gathering) they were all attending. To the blessing, the Rebbe added that, in Efrat, Riskin “must produce shluchim, emissaries, who are modern on the outside and Chabad on the inside.” Riskin credits the Rebbe for his having been able to establish Ohr Torah Stone, which has, among other programs, hundreds of shluchim.

Internet mostly good thing

What can we possibly add to the billions of words shed on the topic of the Israel-Hamas conflict? If this paper is in your hands – or you’re reading this on our new website or in our affordable and environmentally friendly e-edition – you probably already know where we stand.

If you are on social media, you probably know where every one of your friends stands on the issue as well. There has been a barrage of posts, tweets, emails and media pieces on every conceivable aspect of this conflict, its causes, its potential solutions, the actors, the victims, the sound and the fury.

There has also been a vast amount of analysis of media coverage of the events. It is fair enough to call out media for consistently biased reporting. But it does seem excessive sometimes to catalogue every instance of poor or malicious reportage. Media outlets we have never heard of before are getting widespread attention for bad journalism. The irony is that in the PR biz there’s an old saw that there’s no such thing as bad publicity as long as they spell your name right. Some newspapers and broadcast outlets that would be best ignored are instead going viral for all the wrong reasons.

This is not to say egregious reporting should go unchecked. Organizations like CAMERA, the Committee for Accuracy in Middle East Reporting, MEMRI, the Middle East Media Research Institute, PMW, Palestinian Media Watch, and the acronym-deficient Honest Reporting, do a bang-up job keeping reporters’ feet to the fire and illuminating journalistic atrocities around real-world atrocities.

In one of the most imaginative volleys, some anti-Israel brainiac took a still from the Hollywood horror film Final Destination 4, depicting grotesquely mangled human remains, and alleged that it was the work of Operation Protective Edge. Other “evidence” of Israel’s inhumanity turned out to be photos from the Syrian civil war.

For a few hours last week, there was an online rumor that the murder of Palestinian teen Mohammed Abu Khdeir was not the work of Jewish Israelis, but an “honor killing” by his own family allegedly because he was gay. Such a scenario would have reassured us of the uprightness of our side and the baseness of the other, but the facts came out and, sadly, did neither. In either case, a boy is no less dead.

There is certainly cause for concern over fair reporting, and false accusations and misrepresentations should, of course, be challenged, but is this where so much of our energy should be going? We live in a wired world where access to information is almost beyond the human imagination of just two decades ago. No matter on what side of an issue people fall, they will find data and stories that support their views. This is what the internet does well: it provides information and makes it accessible to almost everyone. What people do with that information, if anything, is up to them.

People in some parts of the world do not have the access we do to electronic information, which makes it easier for their powers-that-be to control the message, to propagandize. In North America and Europe, though, anyone who is undecided about an issue and who truly wants to learn more has the opportunity to do so from millions of articles, blogs, newscasts and other sources. This is a good thing. We should be vigilant when major media outlets skew the facts, but we should not expect them to take our position simply because we think we’re right. (We are.)

Instead of being fearful and demanding more regulation of ideas, the reality of this still-new electronic world is that we need to learn – and we need to teach our children – to be effective media critics who can tell good sources from bad. We have the freedom to engage in dialogue and we should. For the most part, we can’t control how others present themselves and their views, but we can choose to present our own wisely and with civility.

Zach Braff’s new film funny, spiritual, existential

Zach Braff, left, and Jim Parsons at the première for Wish I Was Here. (photo from facebook.com/wishiwasherefilm/photos_stream)

Zach Braff is unabashedly and proudly Jewish. One might not deduce that, though, from the caustic attitude toward organized Judaism expressed at the beginning of his new film, Wish I Was Here.

In his second foray as director, a decade after the indie success of Garden State, Braff plays a chronically unemployed, 30-something Los Angeles actor with a devoted wife (Kate Hudson) and two children in Jewish religious school. Braff’s Aidan Bloom is avowedly secular – his father (Mandy Patinkin) chose and pays for the kids’ education as a way of inculcating their Jewish identity – and Bloom delights in cracking cynical jokes about religion while driving his offspring to school. To underscore his disrespect, Bloom sneaks a hit on a joint after the children get out the car, only to be caught in the act by a rabbi.

“I don’t think the movie’s anti-Jewish at all,” Braff said in a recent interview in a San Francisco hotel. “My character says, ‘I’m envious of people with faith. They take comfort in their faith. I wish I had that to get me through this but, since I don’t, I’m a secular man, I need to find something that works for me.’”

The “this” is Aidan’s father’s illness and encroaching death, which throws a financial wrench in the kids’ private education and impels Aidan to become both a good son and a good parent. The film’s title refers to that dual challenge while evoking Aidan’s existential dilemma of needing something to believe in.

“If I was going to do PR for the Jews of America,” said Braff, “I would say, ‘There needs to be a more proactive way of connecting with Jews who identify with the culture and the humor and the holidays in a way that can tap into the spirituality that they have within themselves. So, any social commentary in the beginning on the yeshivah was meant to show here’s a secular guy who doesn’t know how to tap into his faith.”

image - Concept art for the movie Wish I Was Here
Concept art for the movie Wish I Was Here. (photo from wishiwasheremovie.com/gallery/concept-art)

Wish I Was Here, like Braff himself, blends unwavering self-confidence, clever one-liners and earnest philosophizing. Many viewers will be entertained by the acerbic dialogue and moved by the sentimental family resolution, while others will find Wish I Was Here an indulgent tonal pastiche epitomized by a sight gag of an elderly rabbi on a Segway visiting an intensive care unit.

Braff, of course, became a household name in the 2000s for his role in the long-running sitcom Scrubs. Most recently, he starred in the London première of his original play All New People, before making his Broadway debut in the musical adaptation of Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway. He co-wrote Wish I Was Here with his brother Adam. The New Jersey natives borrowed from the early experiences of a third brother, Joshua (who is also a writer), in developing Aidan’s character.

“My brother went to a very strict yeshivah as a child and really was alienated from it, and had a very bad experience,” Braff related. “It wasn’t until shooting this movie, in the yeshivah we actually shot in, that I saw a Modern Orthodox school. It was a wonderful school, and the rabbis that I talked to were really charming guys and we actually had some interesting conversations about religion, and the kids were all happy and having a wonderful time.”

Braff leaned forward, warming to his point.

“So, I hope that any strict religious people reading this know that the movie is not condemning orthodoxy at all. It’s saying that, from my point of view, I wished I’d had in my life someone who could help me tap into my own spirituality better, instead of saying, ‘Here are the rules. Work within these rules.’”

Wish I Was Here has some fun (as noted above) with an aged rabbi. But a younger rabbi – who Braff described as “the dream rabbi I wished I met” as a young person – makes a contribution to Aidan’s journey of reconciliation with his father, an old-school guy who harangues Aidan to provide for his family and abandon his artistic ambitions.

“I took a Hinduism class in college and loved this idea that here are a bunch of allegories and wonderful stories and gods, and you can choose to find your own path,” Braff mused. “It isn’t so much like ‘These are the rules.’ It is ‘Here’s what we believe but find your own way.’ Now, I don’t know much more about Hinduism than an intro to Hinduism class, but I remember that striking me, as someone who’d been raised very strictly Jewish and kosher.”

Braff financed Wish I Was Here through a crowd-funding campaign last year, drawing flak in the process from those who thought well-off celebrities should reach into their own wallets. Without referencing the Kickstarter controversy, Braff makes the case for consumer support of his movie.

“The studio system isn’t going to make a movie about a Jewish family,” he asserted. “A financier wasn’t going to make a movie about a Jewish family. It’s very, very hard to get – we’re two percent and shrinking – a movie about Jewish people made. If I made this in the studio system, they’d be like ‘ix-nay on the ewish-jay.’ I’d have to [dial] it down. So, I hope that Jews will show up because I’d like to make more films about my Jewish experience, and it matters if they go to the theatre or not.”

Wish I Was Here opens in Vancouver on Friday, July 18.

Michael Fox is a San Francisco film critic and journalist.

New book is first Jacob Dinezon work in English

Jacob Dinezon (1856-1919) was a Yiddish novelist and short-story writer, as famous during his lifetime as were his contemporaries, the three pillars of late-19th- and early-20th-century Yiddish literature, Mendele Mocher Sforim, Y.L. Peretz and Sholem Aleichem. All of these masters knew and were impressed with Dinezon’s work.

During his period of literary activity in the latter half of the 19th century, Dinezon at times even outshadowed the three founding fathers because his books touched thousands of readers and were more widely sold. In fact, one of his novels sold more than 200,000 copies, an unheard of success in Yiddish literature. Dinezon achieved fame at the age of 20 with the publication of his first novel and remained famous until the day he died. He was so well known and beloved that every major figure of Yiddish literature came to his funeral in 1919.

Even encyclopedias in English recognized him. The early 20th-century Jewish Encyclopedia lists Dinezon as an important Yiddish writer (like other classical Yiddish writers, he also established a reputation as a Hebrew author), praise that is echoed in the contemporary Encyclopedia Judaica.

Sometimes mazel plays a role in literary fame but, in Dinezon’s case, it seemed to express itself in income and not in posthumous regard. And now that the worldwide Yiddish-reading community is vanishing, a writer’s lot can be determined by translation, which can bring fame, and to discovery, which in turn can prompt translation. If a writer doesn’t find his translator/editor in another language, he suffers the misfortune of neglect, which is what happened with Dinezon. If you ask any knowledgeable reader familiar with Aleichem and other famous Yiddish writers if he has ever heard of Dinezon, the answer would probably be no.

image - Memories and Scenes: Shtetl, Childhood, Writers book coverUntil now, we have not had any work by Dinezon in English. But this lacuna has been successfully filled with the wonderful book of 11 Dinezon stories, beautifully translated by Tina Lunson and edited by Scott Davis, who has also provided an illuminating introduction: Memories and Scenes: Shtetl, Childhood, Writers (Jewish Storyteller Press, 2014).

Dinezon was a social realist, accurately depicting small-town (shtetl) Jewish life. With a cinematic eye, he zeroes in on his characters, deftly telling fascinating stories while at the same time giving an accurate portrait of the mores, attitudes, speech and foibles of the men, women and children whom he depicts.

Like Dickens, Denizon wrote about the downtrodden and about poorly treated students in Hebrew schools with such realism that he actually brought about reforms. A cross section of Jewish society in Poland lives in his pages: the young and old, Chassidim and enlightened Jews, simple workingmen and rich householders. Every single one of his stories breathes with life and verisimilitude.

In this book of 11 stories, a collection published after Dinezon’s death in 1919, we have finely crafted tales – so in keeping with Jewish short-story writing at the turn of the 20th century – that recall vividly portrayed shtetl characters from Dinezon’s childhood years and memories of such literary figures as Mendele Mocher Sforim (Mendele the Bookseller, aka Sholem Abramovich), Peretz, and the playwright Avrom Goldfaden.

Dinezon also played an important historical role in the development of Yiddish as a literary language. In fact, he mentored, advised and befriended almost every major Jewish writer of his day. The list reads like a who’s who of late-19th- and early-20th-century modern Yiddish literature, including the writers mentioned above, as well as S. Ansky, David Frishman, Shimon Frug, Sholem Asch, David Pinski and Abraham Reisen.

In one of the superb stories, Mayer Yeke, we see how a boy’s great fear of the shtetl’s most righteous Jew, Mayer Yeke, turns to love and respect after he witnesses Mayer’s mitzvah assisting the town drunk. Sholem Yoyne Flask depicts a mild-mannered tailor transformed by the liquor in his flask into a fiery defender of the town’s poor folk – then something happens when a surprising discovery is made about his flask. With Motl Farber, Purimshpieler, we are introduced to a housepainter who languishes during the winter when he cannot work, but at Purim, he becomes the leader of a band of Purim players. When the troupe is arrested by the new Russian police chief, an unlikely “Esther” comes to their rescue.

A story that achieves the psychological depth of a Dostoevsky tale is Yosl Algebrenik and His Student. It tells the story of Yosl, an outstanding Talmud scholar, a genius some said, destined to become a great rabbi, who has a passion for mathematics. At age 30, for reasons no one remembers, he tosses away the Talmud and its commentaries for the study of algebra and algebraic logic. From then on, he spends all his time studying algebra, except for the few hours a week he devotes to tutoring children to eke out a living.

Another moving and profound story is called Borekh, after the name of the hero, a poor orphan living in the yeshivah. He doesn’t do well in talmudic studies but he has a talent for woodcarving, making dreidls, Purim groggers and toy animals for the children of the town. One day, he decides to leave the yeshivah and start anew, with hopes of making a great holy ark, “one that people have never seen before.” When he achieves that, he will send it to his friend in the yeshivah, who he knows will become a great scholar. He leaves without saying goodbye.

Some of Dinezon’s autobiographical sketches are as engaging as his fiction. In My First Work, he relates the childhood experience of reading his first Yiddish novel, a Jewish version of Robinson Crusoe. He is so taken by the book, he writes his own adventure story. In Sholem Yankev Abramovich, Dinezon tells how his debut novel, The Dark Young Man, was published and how he acquired his first copy in Moscow. At the same time, he learns that the Yiddish writer Mendele Mocher Sforim and the Hebrew author Sholem Abramovich are actually the same person.

It is not often that we are privileged to make a literary discovery of our own. With this book by Dinezon, the first in English, we happily encounter a master writer who deserves to be ranked with the great Yiddish writers whom he befriended and who admired him.

Curt Leviant’s most recent book is the short story collection Zix Zexy Ztories.

According to halachah, women’s role can be broad

While I have a very good Jewish background, enhanced by the hundreds of books I have reviewed over the years, I am, by no means, a scholar. However, when I heard about The Status of Women in Jewish Law: Responsa by Rabbi David Golinkin (Centre for Women in Jewish Law at the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, 2012), I wanted to read and review it because there are a number of issues – that appear both in the news and in other books I’ve read – that are expounded and discussed by Golinkin.

When I read Rashi’s Daughters, for example, I was intrigued by the author, Maggie Anton, writing that the daughters laid tefillin, studied Talmud and commented on their father’s responsa. The violent, aggressive behavior of certain Orthodox men and women toward the Women of the Wall, who have tried for more than 25 years to have a respectful minyan on Rosh Chodesh each month, observing their personal traditions, further motivated my reading of this book.

Rabbi Reuven Hammer, former president of the International Rabbinical Assembly, in one of his columns last year in the Jerusalem Post, wrote: “I cannot help but wonder what the problem is with the desire of some women to wear tallitot, tefillin and read from the Torah at the Western Wall. I am further amazed at the extreme statements made by the rabbi in charge of the site and by other leaders of the Charedi (ultra-Orthodox) community calling on their followers to come out and protest, as well as by the silence of moderate Orthodox authorities on this issue. I cannot believe that they really think that what these women are doing is in violation of Jewish law.

“Surely they know as well as anyone else that all of this is permitted.

“Women may not be required to do these things within traditional halachah [Jewish law], but nowhere are they prohibited from doing them, any more than they are prohibited from sitting in a sukkah!”

Hammer continued: “My only conclusion is that this … has nothing to do with Jewish law and nothing to do with the sanctity of the Wall and nothing to do with offending others, and everything to do with protecting an insular way of life…. These groups have every right to want to live that way…. But they have absolutely no right to force their practices upon others and to make the totally false claim that what they say represents the official position of traditional Judaism. It simply does not.”

He noted, “The sages in the second century CE exempted [women] from certain mitzvot, but did not prohibit them from performing them. There is no excuse for us, nearly 2,000 years later, forbidding what neither the Torah nor the sages forbade. Let us put an end to all this fuss and support the right of women to perform these mitzvot within the framework of traditional Judaism.”

image - The Status of Women in Jewish Law: Responsa book coverIn Golinkin’s book, we learn that, while there are Orthodox rabbis who have made innovations for women, many Orthodox rabbis ignore not only non-Orthodox rulings on women in Judaism but also Orthodox rulings. We also learn that change isn’t a linear process between or within denominations.

In the book’s introduction, “The Participation of Jewish Women in Public Rituals and Torah Study,” Golinkin surveys 41 events between 1845 and 2010, regarding women in Judaism. He finds that changes did not necessarily move from Reform to Conservative to Orthodox. For example, the bat mitzvah ceremony, credited to Conservative Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan in 1922, was preceded by rabbis in Italy, France and Baghdad and by Reform Rabbi Yechezkel Karo in 1902. Women have been ordained by the Reform movement in the United States since 1972, but Regina Jonas, who could not be called Reform, was ordained as a rabbi in Germany in 1935. Women have had aliyot since 1893, including Henrietta Szold in 1922, but it was not until 1995 that 88 percent of Conservative synagogues allowed aliyot for women. Orthodox rabbis began to allow separate women’s prayer groups in the 1970s but some Conservative rabbis had done so since 1949. In broad strokes, main efforts to change women’s roles in Reform Judaism lasted from 1846 to 1972; Conservative, from 1874 to 2001; and Orthodox, from 1978 to 2010.

Golinkin writes, “The tension between halachah and modernity has caused, is causing and will continue to cause division and disagreement within the Jewish people.”

He also notes, “The status of women in halachah has begun to cause division between Modern Orthodox and the Charedi (ultra-Orthodox) camp in Israel and abroad.”

He then lists nine approaches to changing halachah: 1) those who oppose any change in Judaism; 2) opposition specifically to changes in the synagogue; 3) acknowledging equal status between men and women, expressing it through different roles and mitzvot; 4) willingness to accept certain changes so as to not drive women from Judaism; 5) change within the framework of traditional halachah; 6) adjusting discriminatory halachot according to contemporary times; 7) changing halachah with equality for women; 8) feeling halachah is not binding, and men and women are equal in Judaism; and 9) suggesting a halachic revolution.

The remaining 15 chapters of The Status of Women in Jewish Law consist of responsa to critical questions. In each case, Golinkin surveys the rabbis who wrote responsa on a particular issue – for and against – and then concludes with what he terms “practical halachah.” There is a complete bibliography after each responsa’s conclusion. In brief, they are:

Responsa 1: women and tefillin. In Golinkin’s view, the responsa show “ample halachic justification” for allowing women to wear tefillin, as long as they are worn with “the same devotion and halachic requirements which apply to men.”

Responsa 2: women and singing. Golinkin writes, “… there is no general prohibition against women singing in classic Jewish law based on the Talmud and subsequent codes and commentaries until the early 19th century.” And there is “no halachic justification for anyone walking out when women sing … it is forbidden to walk out, in order not to insult the female performers.”

Responsa 3: women in the minyan and as shlichot tzibbur (prayer leaders). Golinkin concludes that women may be counted in the minyan for shacharit, minchah, ma’ariv, musaf and ne’ilah, and may serve as shlichot tzibbur in all of these services.

Responsa 4: adding the Imahot (Sarah, Rivka, Rachel, Leah) to the Amidah (central prayer of the prayer book). Golinkin writes that the correct and traditional way is to compose a short piyyut (liturgical poem) recited in the middle of the Amidah blessings.

Responsa 5: reciting Baruch Sheptarani (the Parents’ Blessing) at a bat mitzvah. Golinkin writes that this blessing, traditionally said by the father to mark his son’s turning 13, can be recited by both parents for their daughter.

Responsa 6: aliyot for women and hearing Torah read in public. Golinkin determines that women are obligated to hear the Torah read in public and can be called for an aliyah.

Responsa 7: women reading the Megillah. Golinkin believes that women are obligated to read the Megillah in public and be counted in the minyan for the reading.

Responsa 8: reciting verses honoring Esther during the Megillah reading. Golinkin writes that this is permissible.

Responsa 9: women as mohalot (circumcisers). Golinkin believes that this is permissible.

Responsa 10: participation of women in funerals. Golinkin writes that there is no need for the separation of men and women during a eulogy, and that women should be encouraged to participate in the eulogy, funeral procession and burial, as well as the escort to the cemetery.

Responsa 11: women reciting the Mourner’s Kaddish. Golinkin finds no halachic reason to prohibit women from reciting this prayer.

Responsa 12: women participating in a marriage ceremony and the Sheva Brachot (Seven Blessings). Golinkin says that women may hold the chuppah poles, sing, read the ketubah (marriage contract), give a drash (explanation or sermon), recite the betrothal blessing and Sheva Brachot, and be counted as a “new face,” according to wishes of those involved.

Responsa 13: women on a law committee, rendering halachic decisions and writing responsa. Golinkin concludes that women may render halachic decisions, they may study halachah, teach and discuss halachah and write responsa.

Responsa 14: having a mechitza (partition dividing men and women in synagogue). Golinkin writes that it is permissible to abolish this custom.

Responsa 15: ordination of women as rabbis, holding public office, studying Torah, serving as witness. Golinkin writes that women may be ordained as rabbis “on condition that … they undertake upon themselves all PTBC (positive time-bound commandments) and to refrain from participating in batei din [rabbinical courts] for conversion or to serve as witnesses at marriages and divorces.” According to Golinkin, women are permitted “to study and teach Torah and all subjects related to the Torah” and “it is permissible for a woman to serve in public office.”

For anyone interested in the sources and issues regarding the role of women in Judaism, this book is an informative, absorbing and remarkable read. It concludes with a collection of eulogies delivered by Golinkin and a glossary.

Sybil Kaplan is a foreign correspondent, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She has compiled nine kosher cookbooks. She leads weekly walks in English in the Jewish produce market, Machaneh Yehudah, and writes the restaurant features for Janglo, the oldest, largest website in Israel for English-speakers.

Israel faces rising jihadist threats

Smoke rises in Gaza after an Israeli airstrike on the second day of Operation Protective Edge, July 9, 2014. (photo by Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)

With the launch of the Israeli army’s Operation Protective Edge in Gaza, much of the public’s attention has focused on Hamas, which has escalated its rocket fire on Israel. But the threats the Jewish state faces from Gaza may not be as clear-cut as they seem.

While Hamas is still extremely deadly, it has seen a weakening of its grip on the coastal enclave over the past few years, due to challenges from other Islamic terror groups and isolation from its former patrons in the Muslim world.

“Hamas has been on the brink of collapse,” explained Jonathan Schanzer, vice-president for research at the Foundation for Defence of Democracies. “It has become very isolated politically and economically.

“It is very difficult to figure out what Hamas’ calculus is [in its current escalation with Israel],” Schanzer added. “Hamas may have nothing to lose but, on the other hand, they could have really overplayed their hand, which could lead to complete devastation of their assets.”

Since taking control of Gaza in 2007, Hamas has seen a steady decline in its support from the

Palestinian people and the rise of other Islamic terrorist groups there, including its main Palestinian rival, Islamic Jihad, as well as al-Qaeda-inspired Salafi global jihadist groups.

In February, leaders of the Salafist factions known as the Al-Quds Mujahideen Shura Council in Gaza issued a statement pledging allegiance to Islamic State in Iraq and Greater Syria (ISIS), which has made global headlines for its brutality and swift victories in the Syrian civil war and in Iraq. These Gaza-based Salafi jihadist groups have often been at odds with Hamas and have been targeted by Hamas’ internal security forces. At the same time, these groups have been responsible for rocket fire on Israel, both from Gaza and Salafi groups operating in the Sinai Peninsula. This includes rockets fired on the southern Israeli city of Eilat in January 2014.

Meanwhile, recent reports indicate that jihadists from ISIS – now also known simply as “Isamic State” – have attempted to infiltrate Gaza from Egypt, the Gatestone Institute reported.

Read more at jns.org.

Sderot residents hope Tel Aviv finally understands them

Motorists in Tel Aviv take cover from an incoming terrorist rocket. (photo from IDF Spokesperson’s Unit via Ashernet)

In Sderot, Simone Mizrachi wearily follows her two-year-old grandson as he happily jumps on the bouncy castle in a large indoor playground. A balloon pops and she jumps. The playground has four large underground bomb shelters in case of rocket attacks.

“Enough already,” said Mizrachi about the dozens of rockets fired at this small town in recent days. “My grandson is the second generation already living through these rockets. When we see smoke from the rockets, I try to tell him, ‘Look at the clouds up there,’ but he knows it’s not clouds. At age 2, he already knows what’s going on.”

Mizrachi has lived in this lower-middle-class town of 24,000 for 32 years and has raised her four children here. For the past 13 years, she said, Sderot has been under constant rocket fire. Because it is less than a mile to the border with the Gaza Strip, there are only 15 seconds to get to a shelter after the siren sounds. The Israeli government has spent hundreds of millions of dollars to build bomb shelters here – at bus stops, schools and in private homes.

Now, for the first time, rockets are hitting Tel Aviv. Mizrachi said she hopes Israel can end the rocket fire all over the country. But, she added, there is a certain satisfaction in the idea that Israelis in bourgeois Tel Aviv now understand what Sderot has been living with all this time.

“Where have they been for the past 13 years?” she asks angrily. “Now, they are finally getting a taste of what it is like to live here. There are times that we get 60 rockets a day. Maybe now that they feel it, the government will finally do something.”

Read more at themedialine.org.

Haaretz conference provides platform for renewing peace push

To some, it was a (peace) camp reunion. To others, it served notice that peace with the Palestinians has returned to its place atop the agenda of Israel’s political left following its dalliance with socioeconomic issues. To the more than 2,000 participants in Haaretz newspaper’s Israel Peace Conference held last week at Tel Aviv’s David InterContinental Hotel, it was an elegant opportunity to mingle with the iconic stewardship of days past – topped by Shimon Peres – while honing the movement’s agenda among those poised to embrace the next wave of leadership, such as opposition head and Labor Party leader Isaac Herzog and activist-turned-politician Stav Shaffir, who personifies the bridge from social activism to the politics of peace.

The history of the Israeli Peace Conference was itself microcosmic of the fortunes of the movement it supports. The idea began amid optimism born of word of U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry’s peace mission, according to conference chief executive officer, journalist Akiva Eldar. “The original idea was to push [Israeli] Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu and Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas to say ‘yes’ to Kerry but, around April, everything came to a halt,” he told this reporter.

“We kept pushing it off, finally setting it for July,” said Eldar, senior columnist for Al-Monitor. But, by the time the date rolled around, a new set of obstacles had presented themselves in the form of the kidnapping and murder of three Israeli teens followed by the killing of a Palestinian youth. The atmosphere became more toxic to the point where key Palestinian participants, chief negotiator Sa’ib Erakat and businessman Munib Al-Masri, pulled out of the conference. Yet, the decision was made to continue as planned. According to Eldar, “We decided we don’t give veto power to terrorists on both sides.”

Read more at themedialine.org.

Ventanas to play at Folk Fest

Tamar Ilana, centre right, and the Ventanas will perform at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival, which takes place July 18-20. (photo from the Ventanas)

It is no wonder that the music of Tamar Ilana and the Ventanas is eclectic, with influences from around the world. Ilana has not only traveled the world, studying in both Canada and Spain, but performs with a group of talented musicians whose expertise and interests are as wide-ranging as her own. When she and the Ventanas play at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival next weekend, July 18-20, they will offer, as their name suggests, “windows into other lands and cultures.” And, they will have you up dancing.

Born in Toronto, Ilana lived in the heart of the city with her mother, Dr. Judith R. Cohen, an ethnomusicologist and performer specializing in Judeo-Spanish (Ladino) songs. She studied French and graduated high school with a bilingual diploma. “However,” she told the Independent, “I also feel like I grew up in Spain.”

Explained Ilana, “I began accompanying my mother on her field trips when I was 4 (my first trip was to Israel), and then Spain when I was 5. I have had a few homes in Spain over the years. First, Ribadavia, Galicia, where I would roam the castle grounds (now closed to the public) and contemplate the small length of the old graves there, and how short people must have been. Then Hervás, Cáceres, which will forever be ‘mi pueblo.’ When I was 12, I met a family there who took me in as their own and, when my mom would romp all over the peninsula, studying, researching and traveling, I would often stay in Hervás with my ‘family’ there, and join up with my mom for shows. It is in Hervás that I really feel I learned Spanish, grew up a lot, and became a lot of who I am today.”

At 14, Ilana went to Ibiza with her mother, who “was retracing Alan Lomax’s footsteps from 50 years previous.” Since then, Ilana has spent many summers there, she did her third year of university in Barcelona, and studied flamenco in Seville for a year. “So, really, Spain is my other home,” she said.

“My father is part Native Canadian (Cree-Saulteaux), part Romanian and part Scottish. I have not lived with him since I was a baby, but we are close and he has always been a big part of my life. He came to visit me in Barcelona and Seville both times I lived there. He is not a musician but he is a huge supporter of the arts and my life. He says he is my No. 2 fan (my mother being No. 1, hahaha). Both my parents definitely support me as a performer.”

“Science, although I do love it as well, was almost just a form of rebellion from music! But I have now accepted music as who I am.”

Despite being surrounded by music, and performing from a young age, Ilana graduated from University of Toronto with a B.Sc. in biology and worked in the field briefly. “Science, although I do love it as well, was almost just a form of rebellion from music!” she said. “But I have now accepted music as who I am.”

The list of countries to which Ilana has traveled is long. “I used to complain a lot about traveling and performing … and I said that, when I grew up, I wanted to be ‘normal,’ with a house, a car, a 9-5 job. But, I guess, deep down, I always enjoyed the actual singing part. Now, singing, performing and traveling are just so much a part of me that even when I tried to change myself with my biology degree and then working 9-5 for two years in renewable energy, I felt like an imposter. Now, I feel like myself.”

Ilana began her study of flamenco when she was 8, captivated by a performance by Esmeralda Enrique (in Toronto): “I said to my mom, ‘I want to do that,’ and she said, ‘So go talk to her.’ I did, and I began studying dance with her that same year. I have been immersed in the flamenco world ever since.”

When studying in Barcelona in 2007, Ilana did a workshop with Montse Cortés, and “fell in love with flamenco singing.” She said she felt like all the parts of her life were being pulled together.

“Flamenco is everything,” said Ilana. “It is sorrow, it is happiness, it is love, it is death. It is every emotion you could possibly feel all together. It is also technically difficult, which is a good challenge. Flamenco is amazing in that if you speak ‘flamenco,’ you can get on stage with anyone else who speaks ‘flamenco’ and do a whole show without ever speaking to each other in any common tongue.”

Ilana continues to study with Enrique, and sings with her company. She also teaches dancing and singing out of Enrique’s studio, the Academy of Spanish Dance in Toronto.

Though she was working with fantastic people, her mind and soul were on her music and dancing, “what I was going to sing, what I was going to wear, who would be doing the show with me, how to promote it.” So, she left her job, sold her car, left everything she had dreamed of having as a child, and went to Seville.

The path has required courage on more than one occasion. After graduating U of T, she worked as co-campaign coordinator of the Green Energy Act Alliance. Once the act was passed, she was offered a promotion by the nonprofit with which she was working, “but it did not feel right,” said Ilana. Though she was working with fantastic people, her mind and soul were on her music and dancing, “what I was going to sing, what I was going to wear, who would be doing the show with me, how to promote it.” So, she left her job, sold her car, left everything she had dreamed of having as a child, and went to Seville.

“I felt like I was singing flamenco but, really, I felt like I did not know what I was doing, and the only way to know what I was doing would be to go immerse myself in that culture for an extended period of time,” she explained. “It was difficult. The first day at the Fundación Cristina Heeren Escuela de Arte Flamenco was hard – the other singers were so good! Up until then, I had felt like I was a good singer, but that day I felt like I had never sung before in my life! I came home crying. I cried many times at that school – sometimes I was even told I would never be able to sing flamenco because I was not from there! But those hard words actually contributed to the power of flamenco singing, and I began to sing stronger and with more confidence and more knowledge.

“My singing and my understanding of flamenco changed drastically that year (2010-2011), and I returned in 2013 with a Chalmer’s Professional Development Grant to study for another three months. My goal when I first went to Seville was to learn a cante libre (form with no rhythm) and I learned many, which I still sing today, such as ‘Granaína.’”

Although Ashkenazi, Ilana grew up surrounded by Sephardi music and culture, it being her mother’s specialty. “She is a preserver of many old songs that almost no one sings anymore,” said Ilana. “To her, these precious songs are treasures to be guarded dearly.

“I did not grow up religious,” she added, “but we always celebrated the High Holidays with my extended family, and sometimes went to shul. My mother likes going to the synagogue of the Indian Jews here in Toronto sometimes because she is ever interested in different musical cultures and how different communities celebrate, sing and dance according to their customs.

“We often lit candles and sang the prayers on Shabbat, and we traveled to Israel many times as I was growing up…. I recently returned to Israel after many years, this time with Taglit Birthright, and I stayed to visit my cousin and also to play some flamenco in Tel Aviv with friends I had met in Seville.

“Although I am not religious, I feel like the Jewish people are my family, and that there is a common understanding somehow between us all, no matter where we are from in the world. I find this feeling difficult to explain to non-Jews sometimes, but it is a deep feeling I have.”

“Although I am not religious, I feel like the Jewish people are my family, and that there is a common understanding somehow between us all, no matter where we are from in the world. I find this feeling difficult to explain to non-Jews sometimes, but it is a deep feeling I have.”

Before she went to Seville, Ilana was performing with various groups in different projects – a glimpse of her website shows that she still has a host of projects on the go – and, while she was away, these musicians “formed a collective dubbed Fedora Upside-Down (based on the fact that many are buskers, and the idea was to bring folk and world music to the streets to make it more accessible to the general public). It truly felt as though all my worlds had collided, and everyone was just waiting for me to come home and fit right in. And I did!”

From a flamenco rehearsal with Dennis Duffin, Ilana was connected with Mark Marzcyk, leader of Lemon Bucket Orkestra (LBO). The trio was joined by LBO percussionist Jaash Singh and, said Ilana, “We jammed all of summer 2011, in the heart of Fedora Upside-Down, our community and best friends and colleagues. By the time the fall came around, we started being invited to play shows and we called ourselves Ventanas, which means ‘Windows’ in Spanish, after the idea that we are a series of windows into other lands and cultures.”

The only part missing, she said, was an oud player. Singh suggested his friend Demetrios Petsalakis. “He appeared in my kitchen and it was as though he had been there all along!” said Ilana. “We invited him out to our weekend gig … and he showed up and played all the tunes with no charts and barely a rehearsal, just picking them up on the fly. And so, our original quintet was formed.”

Though Ilana dances on some of the pieces, the transition between dancing and singing can be hard, so Ilana invited Ilse Gudiño to join the group, and LBO dancer Stephania Woloshyn also was a guest performer many times. “These are the seven members on our debut self-titled EP,” noted Ilana.

Alexandra Talbot joined when Gudiño had a baby, and now tours with them, and “violinist, composer, friend and Fedora Upside-Down colleague Jessica Hana Deutsch” is also on this tour, as is percussionist Derek Gray.

“Our creative process is always changing,” explained Ilana. “Basically, I am the leader and can make the final call on things. But, since I play with such talented musicians and each one of them knows their styles and cultures so incredibly well, I really just trust their judgment on most things. Mark has a gifted ear for arranging, so especially at the beginning, we would follow his suggestions. Demetrios has a certain ability to compose music that sounds as if it is an old, traditional song, and

Dennis always adds a flamenco feel to it with his voicings and rhythmic changes. Everyone really brings their musical lives to the table and we take it from there. Anyone can suggest a song, teach it, and everyone’s input is heavily taken into consideration before anything is set in stone. Basically, everything is a group decision, and it works surprisingly smoothly.”

The Ventanas’ appearance at the Vancouver Folk Fest is part of a cross-Canada tour and, said Ilana, “Right now, I am planning on going to WOMEX in October to make some important connections and also meet with a few friends there to plan our first European tour. We plan on performing in Spain, Portugal, France, Italy and Germany in the next year. We might even make it to Greece. WOMEX is in Galicia this year, which will bring me right back to when I was 10 years old and traveling there a lot.”

While Ilana has never been a member of LBO, she has been their guest in various shows, and she has “shared many stages with them, traveled and performed with them.” As it happens, LBO will also be at the Vancouver Folk Fest and, said Ilana, “Ventanas and Lemon Bucket will join forces at VFMF. Come and see how!”

For more about the Ventanas, visit ventanasmusic.com. For the full lineup of Folk Fest performers and other information, visit thefestival.bc.ca.