Chabad – Page 6

Eat and play at Shuk

Shuk owner Alon Volodarsky, left, and chef Evy Swissa. (photo by Lauren Kramer)

Shakshuka is not a dish that’s easy to come by in Vancouver. Until recently, that is. When Shuk opened its doors on Oak and 41st in early December, this favorite Israeli breakfast item made it to the menu, among a host of other Mediterranean foods, including house-made hummus, Moroccan fish, falafel, borekas, labneh and hatzilim.

Shuk’s owner is the multi-talented Alon Volodarsky, 35, an Israeli from Haifa who moved to Vancouver eight years ago and has had careers in professional dance choreography, carpentry and home renovation. He also has owned a store selling remote-controlled toys.

photo - In addition to great food, Shuk has space in the large dining room to keep the 2- to 6-year-old crowd entertained. — In addition to great food, Shuk has space in the large dining room to keep the 2- to 6-year-old crowd entertained. *(photo by Lauren Kramer)*

Soon after he arrived here, he tasted the food of chef Evy Swissa, who worked at Café 41, and quickly recognized his expertise. Volodarsky also noticed a dearth of establishments where parents could shmooze, enjoy good food and know that their kids were playing safely within eye- and earshot. So, when the opportunity arose to take over Café 41, he jumped at it. He invested $100,000 in a complete remodel and added a space for kids, with climbing structures in the large dining room to keep the 2- to 6-year-old crowd entertained. Then, he found a slab of cedar, cut and varnished it and made it a centrepiece bar in his new restaurant, Shuk. It’s a fabulous piece of carpentry.

Volodarsky hasn’t spared any expense transforming Shuk into a more sophisticated space, adding a state-of-the-art coffee machine, excellent lighting, a beautiful color scheme and quartz countertops. Dairy products are all chalav Yisrael and many of the ingredients he uses come from Israel, including

Israeli rosewater, tehina, za’atar, Moroccan spices and Turkish coffee by Elite. The kitchen is under Chabad supervision.

photo - My shakshuka ($14.50) arrived on a skillet, presented on a wooden board accompanied by French fries in a neat stainless steel basket. — My shakshuka ($14.50) arrived on a skillet, presented on a wooden board accompanied by French fries in a neat stainless steel basket. *(photo by Lauren Kramer)*

My shakshuka ($14.50) arrived on a skillet, presented on a wooden board accompanied by French fries in a neat stainless steel basket. It was also served with pita that Volodarsky was quick to point out is deliberately Israeli-style, sourced from Toronto, and hummus, which Swissa makes in five-litre quantities daily and was so good I had to bring a container of it home. Other items on the menu included the $7 boreka plate (three borekas served with boiled egg, tahini and pickled cukes), the $14.95 falafel plate (seven balls with a side of hummus, fries, Israeli salad and pita), hatzilim ($14.50, served on top of tahini with tomato salsa and pita) and za’atar focaccia ($14.50). There’s also poutine ($7.50), French toast ($8.95), eggs benedict with salmon and avocado ($14.50), pasta and wraps containing fish or falafel.

The food is a mix of Mediterranean, Russian and Yemeni influences, Swissa said. “It’s comfort food that brings you back to Israel,” he confided, adding that the menu is fairly simple with daily specials bringing new items to the mix. The two specials the day I came in were Persian fish balls with couscous, spinach and carrots ($17.30) and flatbread with caramelized onion, goat cheese and pesto ($14).

Volodarsky looked pensively towards the children’s area, where his 3-year-old often releases energy on rainy Vancouver days. “The idea is to attract families with kids,” he said quietly. “Out front we have a quiet area for coffee and meetings, but in the back are most of our 76 seats, and Sundays it’s packed in there.”

The fact that the restaurant is kosher is a big drawcard for Vancouver’s Jewish community and Volodarsky and his team of nine are fighting the perception that kosher means “super expensive.”

“We’re really trying to keep our costs reasonable,” he said. Still, some 55% of diners are not Jewish, Swissa noted. “And they love hummus!”

Don’t miss the desserts – there’s a fabulous selection of delicacies including tahini ice cream, chocolate-banana mousse cups and butter popcorn mousse.

And, if you don’t have the time or energy for a Friday night meal, Swissa can handle that in a heartbeat, complete with the challah, for any orders, even as small as a family of one or two. “I need just 20 minutes forewarning,” he said. He makes 12 challot each Friday in three different flavors, and they disappear fast, so pre-orders are crucial.

Shuk is open Mondays through Thursdays, 8 a.m.-8 p.m.; Fridays, 8 a.m.-3 p.m.; and Sundays, 9 a.m.-8 p.m. There is free underground parking and free wifi. Before Feb. 10, Shuk’s grand opening, access to the kids play area is free. After that date it’s $5 per child, $2.50 per sibling or $30 for a month-long unlimited membership. For more information or reservations, 604 563-4141.

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

New Chabad houses

Chabad Nanaimo Rebbetzin Blumie and Rabbi Bentzion Shemtov with their children. (photo from Chabad Lubavitch BC)

All around the world, Chabad houses welcome Jews of all ages and stages to participate in a variety of activities from social Jewish identity gatherings to serious Torah study. According to chabad.org, “4,000 full-time Chabad emissary families direct more than 3,300 institutions.” Traveling in China and yearning for a Shabbat dinner? Nine cities have Chabad houses. Thailand has four, Sweden has three and even Armenia has a chief rabbi in the capital city, Yerevan.

This fall, two new areas locally are being served by Chabad because the organization saw a need. In early September, just in time for the High Holy Days, Rabbi Mendel Mochkin, his wife Miki and their three young children arrived in West Vancouver to begin their outreach work on the North Shore, as well as in Squamish and Whistler. The rabbi had spent time in Vancouver in 2008 and again in 2011 so, when he was asked to return by Rabbi Yitzchak Wineberg, executive director of Chabad Lubavitch BC, Mochkin jumped at the chance to start his own Chabad House in British Columbia.

photo - Chabad of North Shore Rabbi Mendel and Rebbetzin Miki Mochkin — Chabad of North Shore Rabbi Mendel and Rebbetzin Miki Mochkin. *(photo from Chabad Lubavitch BC)*

“I love it here. I feel very privileged to have moved here and to raise my family here,” said Mochkin about his new home. “I love every day, meeting new people, starting new programs.” He said his wife is also working hard to start programming for women. Miki Mochkin hosts, for example, Chabad’s Loaves for Love, which is a women’s circle; participants meet in her home and make challah as a group. The couple also hosts people every week for Shabbat meals, which is not an easy task, considering their own children are ages 3, 2 and 1.

The programming is not only out of their home. With a wide geographical area spanning the Sea-to-Sky corridor, Rabbi Mochkin said they have big plans for the winter. On the North Shore, they had a menorah lighting and festive food at Lonsdale Quay on Dec. 9 and they have a weekend planned at the Pan Pacific hotel in Whistler Dec. 11-12 to celebrate Chanukah, as well.

Even more freshly arrived in the province is Rabbi Bentzion (Bentzi) Shemtov and his wife, Blumie. They and their 3-and-a-half- and 2-year-old children are still adjusting to life in Nanaimo. They arrived in Victoria on Oct. 20, where they stayed briefly with her brother, Rabbi Meir Kaplan, who is the Chabad rabbi in that city. On Nov. 10, they moved fully into their house and they hosted their first Shabbat meal with guests just over a week later. Shemtov spoke with the Jewish Independent as he was driving to meet Nanaimo’s mayor to confirm plans for a Chanukah party at city hall along with a menorah lighting scheduled for Dec. 8.

“In the past, my brother-in-law has driven up to Nanaimo to light the menorah. He was there for half an hour and then he’d take it down and move on. This year, it will be a real Chanukah party, with hot latkes inside city hall,” said Shemtov.

Although he’s been in town just a few weeks, he has already met quite a few people who are Jewish.

“Every time I walk into a grocery store, someone new approaches me and tells me that they’re also Jewish and that there are no other Jews in Nanaimo,” Shemtov said. He estimated that, in the central Vancouver Island area, which is his new turf and includes Parksville and Qualicum Beach, there are between 1,000 and 1,500 Jewish residents. There are Jews but no Jewish community.

As they plan programs in Nanaimo and the surrounding area, the Shemtovs will serve as the only full-time, functioning Jewish presence. “We were worried that, at first, there wouldn’t be enough to do but the response has been so amazing, far beyond what we had imagined,” said the rabbi. “There is a need and a thirst for a Jewish connection.”

As did Miki Mochkin, Blumie Shemtov started a Jewish women’s circle in her home. The first session, called The Miracle of Oil, was on Dec. 1 and it was filled to over-capacity. Her husband explained that his wife had “bought supplies for 15 to be safe but she had over 20 women register.”

While neither new Chabad family know each other, they have a great deal in common. All four adults grew up in homes that were Chabad houses. They also all have siblings who are running Chabad houses around the world. Once married, members of Chabad are eligible to go out and fill a need for a Jewish presence. The Mochkins have siblings in places as far apart as St. Petersburg, San Francisco and St. Denis, just north of Paris, the neighborhood from which the recent Paris attacks were organized. For the Shemtovs, there are siblings in Pu Dung, China, and, notably, Malmo, Sweden. “My brother-in-law just received the unfortunate title of most persecuted Jew,” explained Bentzi Shemtov. “He lives in Malmo, Sweden, and he has reported over 600 hate crimes against him, but there are Jews who need him there so he stays.”

For more information on either North Shore or Nanaimo Chabad, visit their websites: chabadnorthshore.com and jewishnanaimo.com, respectively.

Michelle Dodek is a freelance writer living in Vancouver.

Chabad expands in Victoria

Chabad of Vancouver Island Rabbi Meir and Rebbetzin Chani Kaplan at the Aug. 23 groundbreaking. (photo from lubavitch.com)

Announced in April 2014, Chabad’s plans to build a centre in Victoria proved a relevant and exciting development for locals. The day after he shared his vision with the community, Chabad of Vancouver Island’s Rabbi Meir Kaplan got a call from a local woman. “I was up all night thinking about how much the building will change Jewish life on the Island for my daughter, compared to the way it was when I was growing up,” she told the rabbi.

Two hundred and fifty guests turned out to celebrate the groundbreaking of the centre on Sunday, Aug. 23, and all that represents for the Jewish community led by Kaplan and his wife Chani. Then-prime minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, sent greetings: “The new larger Chabad, with its expanded facilities for worship, study and family activities, will help meet the needs of your growing community for many years to come. I commend everyone responsible for making this day possible.”

His words were echoed by many who joined, among them Mayor Lisa Helps, members of Parliament and the Legislature.

“The vision was ours, but so many helped us bring it to fruition,” said Kaplan, grateful for the steady support of local community members. Ahead of the groundbreaking, various individuals offered to participate in the fundraising campaign and share their enthusiasm with others.

George Gelb escaped Hungary with his family in 1956, and was welcomed into Canada. In retrospect, he was impressed that his parents sought out a synagogue in Toronto after surviving Auschwitz. When they later moved to Vancouver Island, they discovered the Kaplans and found a family in Chabad. “This is the second synagogue in 150 years on Vancouver Island,” he said, referring to Congregation Emanu-El, which was built in 1863. “It’s a very historic event that I feel really quite privileged to participate in. It’s sort of like carrying on a family legacy.”

photo - An artist's rendering of the new Centre for Jewish Life and Learning. The building’s east wall, facing a main street, will feature a permanently illuminated menorah — An artist’s rendering of the new Centre for Jewish Life and Learning. The building’s east wall, facing a main street, will feature a permanently illuminated menorah. (photo from lubavitch.com)

The projected $3.5 million project is slated for completion in time for the 2016 High Holidays. The building plot at 2995 Glasgow St. is located on a quiet street, close to a popular area park. It will be a home to a library, an industrial-sized kosher kitchen, new offices, synagogue, community hall and a mikvah, giving Chabad the ability to expand all of its current projects and begin new ones, according to the community’s needs. It will also include a facility for the Jewish preschool and Hebrew school, currently housed in the annex of a local school building.

“History is in the making as we gather in this place at this moment. You are now an integral part of this auspicious and historic occasion,” said community member Lindy Shortt at the groundbreaking event. “The Centre for Jewish Life and Learning, Chabad of Vancouver Island and the Kaplan family will be right here for you and your children and your children’s children, G-d willing, for generations to come.”

The building’s east wall, facing a main street, will feature a permanently illuminated menorah. Dedicated by the sponsors to victims of the Holocaust, it promises to radiate Jewish pride and raise the profile of Jewish life on the Island, proving yet again, as the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, insisted, that living as a Jew is possible and relevant everywhere. Even on an island.

The original version of this article was published on lubavitch.com. The version here has been edited to reflect the time that has passed since the orginal’s publication on Aug. 26, as well as a local readership.

The High Holidays in Beijing

The Confucius temple is a must-see in Beijing. (photo by Thyristorchopper)

On Sept. 7, I arrived in Beijing for a 10-month adventure – teaching Hebrew at Peking University. (Yes, this is what it is still called.)

Among the many preparations I had to make for this journey were learning some basic Mandarin, downloading and scanning for the students a huge amount of Hebrew material that would not be accessible from China, and packing clothes for three seasons. I also had to think about celebrating the High Holidays away from my family.

On the internet, I learned that Beijing’s Jewish community enjoys two congregations: Chabad, as one would expect almost anywhere in the world, and Kehillat Beijing, “an egalitarian, unaffiliated, lay-led Jewish community organization.” The latter has a rabbi, but only a guest one, and only during High Holidays. This year, they invited, for the second time, Rabbi Jack Shlachter, a physicist-rabbi from Los Alamos, N.M. What a small world! His wife, Bruria (Beverly), who would accompany him, was one of my mini-ulpan students in Santa Fe last year! In an email exchange, she assured me that Kehillat Beijing is a warm and welcoming community and, by the way, would I mind taking part and reading a passage during the Yom Kippur service?

The first few days on campus are full of bureaucratically required errands, and they are a good way to get familiar with the geography of my new and fascinating environment – a beautiful campus, part of which was the southern edge of a huge imperial garden. Surprisingly, it doesn’t feel as foreign as I expected it would. Global village? Still, there are enough things, even those on the mundane side, which are so different and curious, they promise more surprises.

Three days after arrival, I venture into the super-modern subway, heading to the Israeli embassy. The ambassador’s wife had invited Israeli women in Beijing for an informal potluck evening to welcome the New Year, and I am on the list. The instructions I receive from a student are clear: change from Line 4 to 10, take Exit B, walk two blocks into the diplomatic part of the city, and I am there.

There are about 20 women from what seems to be a close-knit group. Among them, a now local restaurateur, an architect, some businesswomen, an event planner, the Chabad rebbitzen, embassy employees, and wives of businessmen or embassy workers, taking time off from their jobs in Israel and enjoying all that Beijing has to offer – a good group for a newcomer to get her first tips about life in China. Late at night and after a rainstorm, I safely walk to the subway and back to my campus residence.

photo - Kehillat Beijing has transformed a Chinese antique piece into a small ark. There are Magen Davids on its doors — Kehillat Beijing has transformed a Chinese antique piece into a small ark. There are Magen Davids on its doors. *(photo from Rahel Halabe)*

On Friday night, I head to Kehillat Beijing. I take the same subway station, but Exit A gives me my first glimpse of a busy downtown street, a shopping centre, hotels, the construction site of a large and creatively shaped tower, many tiny little – some elegant – stores (are all stores in Beijing so small?) and street food prepared and sold in small carts.

KB meets every Friday evening on the third floor of the Capital Club Athletic Centre. Local Jews, fluent in Mandarin, living in China for periods ranging from a few years to a couple of decades – business owners, financiers, ESL teachers, people working in the American, Canadian and Israeli embassies, students of Chinese or Chinese medicine, and others – get together with local Chinese who are searching for a new spiritual path, as well as with visitors. These visitors are tourists, exchange students and university professors, here temporarily, or those with great ideas, who come to explore business potentials.

The service this time is led by the guest rabbi in front a Chinese antique piece that has been turned into a small ark. If you look carefully, you will notice the probably unintentional Magen David-like decorations on its doors.

The KB logo has a Magen David that replaces one element of the word Beijing. (image from Rahel Halabe)

The KB logo, embroidered on their kippot, also has a Magen David in it, only here it replaces one element of the Chinese characters denoting the word Beijing. It is something to take home for your kippa collection.

After the service, there are announcements – and a surprise. One of the organizers of Limmud China, which alternates yearly between Beijing and Shanghai, tells us about this year’s event in November, and invites potential presenters to apply. I approach him and offer to do so, in this way compensating for having had to withdraw my offer to present at Limmud Vancouver 2016.

Friday and holiday services at KB are usually followed by dinner. Attendees buy a ticket but, for students, it is subsidized. The social mix at every table ensures interesting and lively conversations.

Saturday is my first day as a real tourist. I visit the Confucius temple site, with its ancient trees and long library “avenue” – all the Confucian wisdom engraved in close to 200 stelas, each more than twice a man-size tall. At the end, a class of university history students stages their version of an ancient bow and arrow shooting competition in historical clothing.

The next day is erev Rosh Hashana and Rabbi Jack leads the service in a meaningful, beautiful way. At my dinner table sits a British journalism professor, an American government envoy here to discuss drug issues with Chinese officials, a father visiting his Chinese-language-student son and an American university librarian hunting for both Jewish and Arabic publications produced in China, accompanied by two young guests: a Chinese woman writing her master’s thesis on Cynthia Ozick’s work and an Arabic-Chinese translator working in Chinese television. For both, it is their first time in a synagogue. The translator speaks to me in the formal literary Arabic he learned at Peking U and in Sudan, and I answer in my colloquial Arabic, explaining the meaning of the various Jewish New Year customs.

The next day, after Kiddush and a bite of challa dipped in honey, we head to nearby LiangMa (Bright Horse) River for Tashlich, right beside a few fishermen sitting patiently, waiting to hook a fish. From there, we walk for a few blocks and sit on the roof of a brewery, reserved today especially for the KB community to share in vegetarian pizza and drinks. It is an enjoyable, almost family-like, holiday gathering that extends to the late afternoon. By now, I feel quite at home. I speak Hebrew and English at this table and another and, from a trilingual (English, Chinese and Hebrew) 10-year-old girl, I get a detailed explanation and demonstration of the different tones and, hence, meaning of two Chinese words that sound equal to my ear.

On the second day of Rosh Hashana, KB does not hold services, and I join Rabbi Jack and Bruria at Chabad for another warm welcome. I am surprised to find a few of my new acquaintances from KB now here at Chabad. Dividing your “Jewish time” between the two very different congregations is not uncommon, I am told. In Beijing, the two communities collaborate, especially when it comes to the local Sunday school.

In between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, school starts, and I meet my new students, as well as sprinkle in another couple of outings. I witness the locals dancing, playing games and singing, individually and in large groups, in their historical, beautifully preserved parks, taking advantage of the still nice weather and the unusually low pollution levels.

The Saturday between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur is a musical Shabbat at KB. The service is accompanied by a group comprised of members of the congregation and of Moishe House, with their instruments. Moishe House in Beijing seems to be very active, their events include dinners, movie nights, cultural discussions, speakers, holiday celebrations and community service events. They are also central in the preparations for Limmud and host its organizing meeting.

Yom Kippur I spend again with KB, starting with the meal before the fast and ending with the break fast, but for the first night of Sukkot, I head again to Chabad to sit in the sukka. This evening is busy. On top on their usual varied crowd, they are hosting a group of Chabad followers from New York, a tour organized by the Beijing rabbi as a fundraiser for the local day school, Gannenu. As erev Sukkot coincides this year with the Chinese Mid-

Autumn (Moon) Festival, the sukka, which usually would not be decorated, after the Chabad custom, now has bright, red Chinese lanterns hanging from its schach (covering), and traditional (kosher) moon cakes are served for dessert in small, red paper bags.

Barely three weeks and so much to remember already, with the Jewish aspects only being a part of my experiences so far, albeit a significant part. And there are nine more months to go. For the first time in my life, I have started writing a diary, lest I forget.

Rahel Halabe teaches biblical and modern Hebrew in Vancouver and, this year, in Beijing. She is the author of Hinneh: Biblical Hebrew the Practical Way, and a translator of Arabic literature into Hebrew.

Iceland’s Jewish community gets boost from Chabad, the JI

Jewish Icelanders preparing and celebrating Pesach with Chabad last month. (photos from Rabbi Berel Pewzner via Karen Ginsberg)

During a trip to Iceland in 2010, I had the pleasure of talking with a small number of Jews who called Iceland home. My connections were facilitated by a former colleague who had served from 2006 to 2009 as Canada’s ambassador to Iceland and happened to know that one of her locally employed staff members had Jewish family roots. From that initial serendipitous connection, came several more and, with each interview, I was able to gain some perspective on what kind of Jewish community exists in contemporary times in the country. I titled the article, “Like driftwood from Siberia,” because it seemed the most poignant metaphor – like driftwood, most of the Jews known to be in Iceland sort of washed up on the country’s shores as a result of a marriage or where they had been taken by their studies.

Shortly after the original article was published in 2010 by the Jewish Independent and by the national Icelandic newspaper, which serves the Icelandic diaspora in Canada, I received a phone call from an American Chabad rabbi, Berel Pewzner, seeking information about my experiences.

I have come to know that Rabbi Pewzner is drawn to Jewish life in remote and unique locations around the globe, so I am not sure whether Iceland was already on Chabad’s radar in terms of a small Jewish population in need of support or whether something in the JI article struck a chord. Whichever it might have been, a recent note from Rabbi Pewzner informed me that Chabad student rabbis have been visiting in Iceland for Yom Kippurs and Pesachs for the last five years, “bringing the warmth of Judaism to all.” He shared with me that during these annual visits, the student rabbis have been able to identify and visit with more than 100 Icelandic Jews, including 15 individuals who were new to the rabbis this particular year.

On Pesach, Chabad provides matza for all among those 100 Jews who wish some and then, to everyone’s delight, they hosted more than 60 participants for a full seder this year. Some of these newly located Icelandic Jews have been located as far from Reykjavik as the Faroe Islands.

In 2010, when I first traveled there, Iceland’s economy was in very rough shape. Many Icelanders felt that the recession they were then in would not reverse itself as quickly as other recessions had, and that they simply had to get used to the fact that their assets, both financial and real, were worth very much less than they would have liked. For some – particularly those who had family or business connections in other countries – it was easier to leave Iceland and begin again elsewhere. Rabbi Pewzner tells me that this sentiment is much less in evidence today. To the contrary, there is a now higher level of in-migration to Iceland than in the past. According a 2013 Statistics Iceland report, migration into Iceland is highest from Poland and Lithuania, but the next highest migration comes equally from Denmark, Germany, Latvia, the United Kingdom and the United States. While it is impossible to know for certain why people migrate, this report suggests living conditions, family reunifications, policies around gender equality and because of the natural splendor of the country. In Rabbi Pewzner’s recent experiences, he finds that American Jews of all levels of practice have included themselves in the recent upswing in migration to Iceland.

A May 1, 2015, article by Jenna Gottlieb, published in the Forward, supports Rabbi Pewzner’s observations. It reports that about 50% of the Jews now known to be in Iceland gathered for Rosh Hashanah services. The Ashkenazi food is undoubtedly a draw but so, too, is the rather unique opportunity during the Days of Awe to see the aurora borealis over the nighttime Icelandic sky.

It is very much the case that the Jewish population in Iceland continues to come into the country “like driftwood from Siberia,” to study, work, or because they are part of an interfaith marriage. Most are more secular than religious, but the common thread running through the community is the desire to retain and, with Chabad’s help, maintain a connection to their Jewish heritage. While Icelanders are considered accepting of Jews as individuals, Rabbi Pewzner noted that the Icelandic government in recent years has been deeply critical of Israel for its recent military incursions into Gaza.

It was truly a gift to receive the recent communications from Rabbi Pewzner about how things are moving forward in Iceland, with Chabad’s support, for the Jews within the country.

On the occasion of the 85th anniversary of the Jewish Independent, it is also a reminder that the information that is shared through a community newspaper helps to build community in many places, near and far.

Should anyone wish to contribute financially to the costs of these activities in Iceland or learn more about Chabad’s work there, visit jewishcayman.com/donatetoday for more information.

Karen Ginsberg is a travel writer living in Ottawa.

Analyzing talmudic sages

Vancouver colleagues and friends, Rabbi Binyomin Bitton, left, and Rabbi Eliezer Lipman (Lipa) Dubrawsky, spent many hours discussing scholarly Torah subjects, and the 300-page Hebrew volume by Bitton titled Rabbi Eliezer Hagadol was released in time for the second anniversary of Dubrawsky’s passing. (photo by Noam Dehan)

Rabbi Binyomin Bitton shared a unique bond with the late Rabbi Eliezer Lipman (Lipa) Dubrawsky, who was educational director of Chabad-Lubavitch of British Columbia in Vancouver. In addition to being personal friends, they spent many long hours discussing scholarly Torah subjects across the board.

In time for the second anniversary of Dubrawsky’s untimely passing at the age of 56, Bitton, co-director of Chabad of Downtown, released a book of in-depth research and analysis on the opinions and mindsets of two talmudic sages, Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananya, based on the unique approach and teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson.

“The idea first came to me shortly after Rabbi Dubrawsky’s passing,” explained Bitton. “His first name was Eliezer, and his father’s name was Yehoshua. I felt it would be a fitting memorial for two men who dedicated so much of their lives to Torah to explain the positions of two sages whose names they bear.”

While he was not initially sure if he would have enough material for a book, Bitton’s research yielded a robust, 300-page Hebrew volume titled Rabbi Eliezer Hagadol (The Great Rabbi Eliezer), an honorific often used for the talmudic sage, which Bitton said aptly described his great friend and mentor, as well.

image - Rabbi Binyomin Bitton’s new book is dedicated to Rabbi Lipa Dubrawsky, book cover — Rabbi Binyomin Bitton’s new book is dedicated to Rabbi Lipa Dubrawsky.

Following a pattern championed by the Rebbe, the author identifies the prototypical approaches of the two first-century sages, and then goes on to apply those same underpinnings to seemingly unrelated arguments of theirs dotting the talmudic landscape.

“The Rebbe had a unique way of learning, of leshitasayhu” – the notion that the rulings of talmudic sages on disparate subjects are related to one another, explained Bitton, “and this forms the basis of the book. The widely accepted approach to leshitasayhu is that the ruling on one particular subject evolves from another one.

“By the Rebbe, it works on a different, deeper plane. In his view, many opinions evolve from a quintessential point in which the two sages essentially disagree and, from there, their opinion evolves in numerous subjects, which, at first glance, may not be related at all. Accordingly, the Rebbe further explains how the approach of each sage evolves and/or is connected to their Hebrew name, soul, place of residence, responsibilities, position and more. This, too, was incorporated in the book with regards to Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua.”

In 45 chapters, Bitton masterfully weaves common threads through the full gamut of human experience, demonstrating how the sages approached dozens of subjects that can be traced to the same fundamental axioms.

The book was released just in time for 27 Nissan, the second anniversary of the rabbi’s sudden passing in 2013. Thus, the book’s second part deals with the two sacrifices that frame the time of year: the Omer barley offering that was brought to the Temple in Jerusalem on the second day of Passover, and the two loaves brought seven weeks later on Shavuot.

Expounding upon a discourse of the Rebbe, Bitton applies the Rebbe’s principles to a number of different aspects of the two offerings – even explaining how they reflect through the kabbalistic lens of Chabad Chassidic tradition.

“Rabbi Dubrawsky dedicated his life to learning Torah and teaching Torah every single day,” said Bitton, “and I truly feel that through sharing Torah with others, we can perpetuate his special life.”

This article is reprinted with permission from chabad.org. To sponsor other works and/or buy Bitton’s, visit chabadcitycentre.com/book.

Nine things you probably didn’t know about the month of Adar

The Jewish month of Adar began last Friday, Feb. 20. Known as a month of celebration and happiness, Adar contains the joyous holiday of Purim that takes place mid-month. Purim, however, isn’t the only thing that makes Adar special.

Be happy now!

The Talmud tells us that “when the month of Adar arrives, we increase in joy” to welcome a season of miracles. Accordingly, the Talmud tells us that this month is fortuitous for the Jewish people.

What’s in a name?

The Hebrew name Adar is related to the word adir, which denotes strength and power. The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, points out that the term adir is used to refer to the Jewish people. What could be more apropos for the month when the Jewish people’s fortunes are strong?

Double your joy, double your fun.

Adar is the only month in the Jewish calendar that comes back for seconds. The Jewish leap year, or shanah me’uberet (literally pregnant year in Hebrew), occurs approximately once every three years. In order to assure that the lunar months of the Jewish year stay in sync with the solar calendar, an additional month of Adar is added. In a leap year, Purim is celebrated in the second Adar.

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.

Mourning turns to joy

Passover is a traditional time for families to sit down together and celebrate a holiday of freedom and deliverance. It’s a time to catch up and share meaningful moments. For one family torn apart by the Second World War, this Passover held a special significance as they caught up on nearly 70 years of history.

For 65 years, Holocaust survivor Rabbi Gershon Chanowitz said Kaddish for his sister, Asna Mera, who he believed had been murdered by the Nazis in 1942. And, for more than half a century, Asna Mera thought that all of her siblings had perished in the Holocaust, leaving her a lone survivor. But thanks to an incredible turn of events, the children of these survivors have learned of each other’s existence and have been reunited. With a shot-in-the-dark Google search and an implausible email, the long-lost Chanowitz cousins began unearthing a mystery spanning six decades and three continents.

A mysterious email

“About a week ago, my son, Moishe, the Chabad emissary [to St. Maarten], received an email through his Chabad website from someone in Israel searching for any news of his relatives,” said Rabbi Ben Zion Chanowitz, a Chabad emissary in Monticello, N.Y., and the son of Gershon Chanowitz – who passed away this past summer at the age of 91.

An excerpt from the email (grammatically edited) read:

“Shalom. I don’t speak English well…. I am from Vitebsk, Belarus. My name is Sashe Bumginz. My mother’s surname was Chanowitz from the shtetl of Glubokoe in the Vitebsk region. In the war, all of my family perished. I am interested in all information on Chanowitz from Glubokoe.”

“I was skeptical at first,” admitted Chanowitz. “We know all of our relatives, after all.” But then a follow up email “shook everything I knew.” Bumginz sent another email detailing his family history with names, places and dates that matched up exactly with Chanowitz’s. He explained how his mother, who passed away in 2007, survived the war and raised a family. As far as he knew, no other close family survived, but he was always searching for any information he could find on his family history.

Suddenly, the largely American-based Chanowitz family was electrified. Could their father’s sister have survived the war? Could they have cousins they hadn’t known existed?

Bumginz grew up in Soviet Russia and eventually moved to Israel in the early ’90s, where he is currently living in Herzilyah with his wife and two children. When he first arrived in Israel he contacted the Holocaust centre and museum Yad Vashem, as well as other resources over the years, attempting to seek out any information they might have on his mother’s family, but every search reached a dead end.

In March 2014, on Purim, Bumginz was invited by a Chabad co-worker to a farbrengen, a Chassidic gathering to celebrate the holiday. At the farbrengen, Bumginz opened up about his history and mentioned that his family, Chanowitz, has been Chabad for generations. He asked around if anyone knew the name, and one participant mentioned that there were Chabad emissaries with that name and suggested that Bumginz use Google to find them. A short search led to the Chanowitz family of St. Maarten, and the email above was received and then forwarded to Ben Zion Chanowitz.

An email exchange ensued.

“Many of us are excited and emotional about this special family news,” said Rebbetzin Simie Schtrocks, Gershon’s daughter. Schtrocks resides in South Surrey, serving as co-director of the Centre for Judaism, Chabad’s branch serving the Lower Fraser Valley.

“It is mind blowing that after 65 years plus we should now find out that Asna Mera actually did survive, had two children and lived in Vitebsk of all places. How tragic it is that she was unaware that the Lubavitch world had continued to flourish and that she had brothers 6,000 miles away who would have been thrilled to help her.”

As the family digests this news, they are slowly discovering stories explaining the years of misinformation, and uncovering many painful details along the way.

Gershon’s story

In the early 1920s, Gershon Chanowitz was born in the town of Glubokoe, in what was then Poland, a border city that has belonged to Lithuania, Poland, Russia and Belarus in the previous 100 years. He was one of 10 children in a dynastic Chabad Chassidic family. His father, Ben Zion, was a shochet (ritual slaughterer), a follower of the previous Lubavitcher rebbe, and an important figure in the small town of 5,000 Jews.

Gershon was sent at a young age to learn in a yeshivah in Otwock, Poland, and he was there in 1941 after the war broke out. At the advice of the previous Lubavitcher rebbe, he escaped north to Warsaw and then Vilna. He found out about Chiune Sugihara, the Japanese ambassador to Kovno, who was signing visas that saved some 2,000 Jewish lives. He obtained visas for three of his siblings, and snuck back to Glubokoe to beg his father to allow him to add his youngest brother, Yisroel, to a forged family passport, allowing him to leave as well. Ben Zion, his wife and the other children stayed behind. Gershon procured visa #1785 for himself, #1836 for his oldest sister Fruma, #1841 for his brother Shmuel Avraham and #2027 for young Yisroel. It was just in time too – the last issued visa was #2039.

The four siblings traveled to Kobe, Japan, and then Shanghai, China, where they resided until they could obtain visas to the United States. During that time, Shmuel Avraham died of an illness in Shanghai. When the war was over, they corresponded with different services seeking any information about their remaining family and discovered that their parents and siblings had been killed. A fifth brother, Chaim, escaped the war, and moved to the newly founded state of Israel and then to America. Eventually, the other three siblings made it to the United States and started rebuilding their lives, establishing the large families that exist today.

When the surviving siblings in the West sought out information on exactly what had happened to their family, they learned that, one day, when the Nazis arrived in town seeking to fill a “death quota,” they went about town killing people. The remaining Chanowitz family barricaded themselves in their house. At one point, they heard desperate banging on the door and 16-year-old Asna Mera, anguished at the thought that it might be a Jew seeking refuge, and despite her family’s protest, answered the door. The German soldier standing there grabbed her and took her away to be killed. The rest of the family was killed a year later in another mass murder.

Gershon and his surviving siblings, Chaim, Yisroel and Fruma, marked their parents’ and siblings’ passing every year, and said Kaddish for them throughout their lives.

Asna Mera’s story

The day that Asna Mera opened the door to the Nazi, she was taken to a soccer field with about 800-900 other Jews. They were then boarded onto trucks to be taken to be executed. On the way, a German commander picked her, and 14 other young beautiful girls, to be taken to a German army base to be among the soldiers. At one point, Asna Mera was with a soldier who had a large knife on his belt. She grabbed the knife and stabbed him to death, running away into the woods.

In the woods, she eventually met up with her 12-year-old brother, Tzvi Hersh, who had also escaped. The two siblings were freezing in the brutal winter and starving. They remembered that their well-respected father had a non-Jewish farmer friend in a nearby town to whom he once gave a large down coat and an expensive ring. They decided to go ask the farmer, who their father had always trusted, for the coat so they could survive. Scared to go together, Tzvi Hersh went first and knocked on the door. The farmer opened the door and grabbed the young boy, tied him up and gave him to the police in exchange for a 10-kilogram bag of flour. Tzvi Hersh was hanged that day.

Asna Mera miraculously survived the war, thinking she was a lone survivor. In her attempts to find her siblings, she traced them to Vilna but then their trails disappeared. She never found out what happened to them. At age 39, she married and moved to Vitebsk, which at that point was a part of Soviet Russia. She had two sons, one Simeon/Ben Zion, named after her father, and another, Sashe/Sholom Ber. Despite communism’s harsh shadow, she raised them as religious Jews.

After the fall of the Iron Curtain, Sashe moved to Israel. Asna Mera once visited in the early 2000s, and went to Yad Vashem herself, where she again tried to seek out more information to no avail.

After the war, Asna Mera discovered the heartbreaking news that the day after she killed the German soldier, the Nazis returned to Glubokoe and killed 150 people in retaliation. She suffered under the shadow of this horrific event all her life.

“She had very little happiness in life,” said Sashe. “She went through so much during the war.” And, when her oldest son Ben Zion was brutally killed while serving in the Russian army (he was thrown off a train by his comrades), she was devastated anew. “She was always quiet and withdrawn and broken.”

“We all wish she at least had happiness,” said Schtroks upon learning the news. “And she still did from her surviving son, passing down the family tradition and maintaining a legacy. We are just sad that although my father and his siblings tried so hard to find missing relatives, they did not find her in time to help her and ameliorate her situation.”

A family reunited

Despite the painful history that they learned along the way, the Chanowitz and Bumginz family are overjoyed at the discovery of one another, and eagerly looked forward to an emotional meeting in person after the Passover holiday. Benson, the son of Yisroel Chanowitz, was the first one of the family to meet Sashe during the intermediate days of Passover last week.

Rabbi Ben Zion Chanowitz recalled a story of his father during his yeshivah years in Poland right before the war, when he had the unique opportunity to observe the Passover seder of the previous Lubavitcher rebbe.

“A Chassid at the table asked the rebbe how we can be celebrating the holiday of freedom while we are still in exile – suffering under the threat of communist Russia and Nazi Germany. The rebbe sagely replied that ‘The redemption in Egypt showed us that you can leave, even if you are in the deepest exile.’”

This year, as Jewish families all over the world gathered to retell the miracles of old, they had a biblical obligation to feel “like they themselves left Egypt.” As they relived their family history, both the darkest moments and the miraculous survival, the Chanowitz and Bumginz families celebrated the miracle of redemption like never before.

– This article was originally published on lubavitch.com and is reprinted with permission.

Passover always takes place in the spring

This year, Pesach begins at sundown on Monday, April 14, and continues through to Tuesday, April 22. The Exodus from Egypt was ordained by G-d to take place in the month of spring. Moreover, the Torah has ordained that special care should be taken to ensure that Pesach always occurs in spring, as it is written: “Observe the month of spring and keep the Passover unto G-d your G-d, for, in the month of spring, G-d your G-d has brought you out of Egypt by night.” (Deuteronomy 16:1)

To ensure that Pesach should indeed occur in spring, in view of the fact that our calendar is based on the moon and the lunar year is about 11 days shorter than the solar year, while the four seasons are determined by the sun, our calendar provides a “leap year” once every two or three years with the addition of a whole month, Adar II, as it did this year. In this way, the lunar year is “reconciled” with the solar year, and Pesach always occurs in the spring. All of the other months of the year, and all our festivals, are regulated accordingly, so that they, too, occur in their due season.

The circumstance of the Exodus from Egypt having been in the spring is explained by our sages as a special Divine benevolence in taking the Jews out of Egypt during the best time of the year. Pesach falls in the middle of the month of Nissan, when nature reveals its greatest powers. We can see and smell blossoms on trees, watch fruit appearing from buds and hear the song of the red-breasted robin.

In fact, there is a special blessing that the rabbis composed for Nissan, for the coming of springtime, that is to be recited when seeing a fruit tree bearing fruit: “Blessed are you, Lord our G-d, King of the Universe, who has made nothing lacking in His world, and created in it goodly creatures and goodly trees to give humankind pleasure.”

The blessing is said just once a year, preferably in Nissan, but if one didn’t get a chance to say it then, it can also be said in Iyar, the next Hebrew month. Our relatives in South Africa recite this blessing in the months of Elul and Tishrei, as that is when their spring occurs.

The great descriptions that appear in King Solomon’s Song of Songs (Shir Hashirim) include “the times of the rain are passed, the time of the songbird has arrived, the blossoms of the trees are seen throughout the land.” This refers to the Land of Israel, where springtime is warm but not summer hot, and the threat of rain all but gone for the year. The smell of spring and renewed life fills people’s souls, and this season in the holy land of Israel is the beloved partner of Pesach, the holiday of renewal and redemption, optimism and hope. Pesach weather carries with it special blessing and encouragement.

When we were taken out of Egypt by G-d’s outstretched arm, we became a nation. In fact, G-d loves us so much that He came down and took our ancestors out Himself, instead of sending an angel to perform the task. As it is written in the Haggadah, in the portion beginning with “Avadim hayeenu,” “We were slaves,” it says, “We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt and

G-d our G-d took us out of there with a strong hand and with an outstretched arm. If the Holy One, blessed be He, had not taken our fathers out of Egypt, then we, our children and our children’s children would have remained enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt.”

Here in Canada, and indeed in so many places, spring arrives with Pesach, however the weather isn’t necessarily springlike. As a child in Toronto, I remember one Pesach having to be carried by my father during the holiday over snow-covered sidewalks. As a teenager in Florida, we were able to have guests over during Pesach and sit outside for our seder. Having lived in Vancouver for more than 30 years, I have experienced Pesach in pounding rain, as well as in sunshine and warmth.

Pesach is, of course, celebrated by Jews the world over. Our dear daughter and her husband, as emissaries for Chabad, will be hosting more than 30 people in their small apartment in Turin, Italy, for the seders, for example. I wish you and your family a very happy and kosher Passover wherever you will be this Pesach – and whatever the weather. Enjoy!

Esther Tauby is a local educator, writer and counselor.