Skip to content

  • Home
  • Subscribe / donate
  • Events calendar
  • News
    • Local
    • National
    • Israel
    • World
    • עניין בחדשות
      A roundup of news in Canada and further afield, in Hebrew.
  • Opinion
    • From the JI
    • Op-Ed
  • Arts & Culture
    • Performing Arts
    • Music
    • Books
    • Visual Arts
    • TV & Film
  • Life
    • Celebrating the Holidays
    • Travel
    • The Daily Snooze
      Cartoons by Jacob Samuel
    • Mystery Photo
      Help the JI and JMABC fill in the gaps in our archives.
  • Community Links
    • Organizations, Etc.
    • Other News Sources & Blogs
    • Business Directory
  • FAQ
  • JI Chai Celebration
  • JI@88! video
Scribe Quarterly arrives - big box

Search

Follow @JewishIndie

Recent Posts

  • Enjoy the best of Broadway
  • Jewish students staying strong
  • An uplifting moment
  • Our Jewish-Canadian identity
  • Life amid 12-Day War
  • Trying to counter hate
  • Omnitsky’s new place
  • Two visions that complement
  • A melting pot of styles
  • Library a rare public space
  • TUTS debut for Newman
  • Harper to speak here
  • A night of impact, generosity
  • Event raises spirit, support
  • BC celebrates Shavuot
  • Ex-pats make good in Israel
  • Love and learning 
  • From the JI archives … yum
  • “Royal” mango avocado salsa
  • מחכים למשיח
  • Arab Zionist recalls journey
  • Bringing joy to people
  • Doing “the dirty work”
  • JI editorials win twice!
  • Workshops, shows & more
  • Jerusalem a multifaceted hub
  • Israel and international law
  • New tractor celebrated
  • Pacific JNF 2025 Negev Event
  • Putting allyship into action
  • Na’amat Canada marks 100
  • JWest questions answered
  • A family of storytellers
  • Parshat Shelach Lecha
  • Seeing the divine in others
  • Deborah Wilde makes magic

Archives

Tag: civil society

Seeing the divine in others

I recently participated in a conference panel on hope in a time of divisive politics. A friend in the Jewish community couldn’t do it, so she asked me to help instead. I won’t lie, I felt nervous.

I worried that I wouldn’t measure up to some of the speakers, who had big job titles, awards and experience. This was compounded by a few missteps that left me feeling embarrassed and humbled. First, my friend’s name was left on the conference program and mine wasn’t listed, even though organizers had ample time to update the panelists’ names. Second, social media amplified the panel on Facebook and Instagram, but listed my name with incorrect, made-up undergraduate degrees. I’d provided my graduate degrees in religious studies and education because I felt they were relevant. Somehow, five years of education went away due to clerical errors.

The weird part was that my brief talk, and my presence at the panel, was to elevate Jewish experience and Jewish hope in an approachable way. Two academics spoke, using big concepts and bigger words, while minimizing their personal approach to the issues. Then, an amazing African Canadian legal professional spoke of her family’s journey and deep roots in Canada – it was personal, compelling and important. I was up next.

I’d prepared my notes in advance. I spoke from them, but, first, I changed gears. The night before the panel, held at Winnipeg’s Canadian Museum for Human Rights, I encountered members of the Persian community, holding up their lion flags to represent the Iranian people and their opposition to the Islamic Republic. I stopped to tell a young woman holding the flag that our hearts were with her, and we were thinking of her, and hoping the people of Iran were safe. She seemed shocked. Surprised that I saw her, knew what she represented, and embraced this message against extremism and violence of the Islamic Republic of Iran. She asked where I was from, I smiled and only said, “Winnipeg.” 

The day of the panel, I struggled with a parking meter. Then I crossed a street, sharing a warm smile with an Indigenous man on a bicycle who passed by. My heart thumped hard. Though I’ve done plenty of public events and teaching, I felt on edge. Maybe it was because I was one of the only representatives of the Jewish community in that multi-faith gathering. Maybe it was because I’d been checking on where the Iranian missiles were landing in Israel right before I came. I worried about repercussions following me into the Canadian Museum for Human Rights.

Pretending to check if the microphone was on, I said, “Welcome. Thank you for coming …” and, looking at the crowd, I greeted everyone with a “Hello y’all!” After that informal start, I made sure to mention the Jewish concept of the world as a broken pot, in which the vessel’s shards, our souls, are in each of us. I talked about tikkun olam, repairing the world, and putting those shards back together, as an act of hope that we work towards, as an act of ongoing creation – a human and divine partnership. Throughout the morning, I took time to look at people, greet them and try to see G-d in each of them. I decided that the way to confront my feelings of embarrassment, and the erasure of my name and credentials, was to fully see others the way I would want to be treated.

At this conference, there were many references to reconciliation. An Anglican bishop who is also a residential school survivor spoke during our panel question period. When I recounted all this later to my family, we recognized an important theme.

As a professor, my husband often attends events with a land acknowledgement. Working with a group of Indigenous students last year, he asked them how they feel about the “workshopped” statement the university uses. They said it was often done by rote and perhaps lost its meaning as a result. They didn’t feel seen by it. 

Almost immediately, I recalled that our congregation had changed its Prayer for Canada. The new one feels genuine to me. It includes aspects of a land acknowledgement by mentioning by name the first inhabitants of the land. It also includes the current Canadian political infrastructure. It’s a prayer to maintain our diversity, so that never again will Canada say, “None is too many,” in reference to the antisemitic exclusion of Jewish refugees fleeing Europe during the Second World War.

My husband will meet again this summer with a new group of Indigenous students. He’s considering a different discussion. What does it mean when society suggests that some people’s innate connection to the land must be acknowledged, but others don’t deserve a similar acknowledgement of their homeland? This issue isn’t “just” about Israel, either. What about the Kurds? What about the Druze? The dispossessed list is a long one.

When we moved to Winnipeg 16 years ago, celebrations for Canada Day included enormous festivals and bombastic firework displays. Over time, due to the pandemic and to a change in how we perceive the day, this has changed. Many Indigenous Canadians don’t celebrate Canada Day. 

Having my name left out and hard-earned credentials jumbled was difficult, but it reminded me of how acknowledgement works. We can choose, as Canadians, to look up from our phones and really see one another. We all deserve to take up space and be here, recognized for our special contributions, in this land of plenty. We may not be able to control the huge geopolitical events around us, but we can see one another and pray for our loved ones and our neighbours, too, both here and elsewhere. Recognizing the divine, individual spark in each person is crucial.

I’m hoping for a family cookout at home this Canada Day. We might talk about how we connect to Canada, and how we fit in the Jewish diaspora and homeland. It’s a complicated equation, worth talking about during a war. We should also choose to see, greet and value all those we walk with on this land and in the world. Let’s recognize everyone’s names, identities – and souls – as meaningful, too. 

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Posted on June 27, 2025June 26, 2025Author Joanne SeiffCategories Op-EdTags Canada Day, civil society, interfaith relations, Judaism, lifestyle, tikkun olam
Diversity as strength

Diversity as strength

Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lion speaks in Vancouver on June 9. (photo from CFHU)

Moshe Lion, mayor of Jerusalem, will be in Vancouver June 9 and Calgary June 11 for a special series of events organized by the Jerusalem Foundation of Canada in collaboration with the Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University (CFHU). The visit marks an opportunity to strengthen ties between Jerusalem and Canadian communities, and to highlight the transformative work taking place in Israel’s capital through the power of education, innovation and philanthropy.

Lion was elected the 10th mayor of Jerusalem in 2018 and reelected for his second term in 2024. The city council under his leadership is a united coalition with no opposition – an unusual and uncommon achievement.

Lion has played a pivotal role in expanding Jerusalem’s infrastructure, cultural institutions and global partnerships. His visit here will offer guests the chance to hear firsthand about the city’s challenges, its remarkable diversity and its bold vision for the future.

Joining him will be Arik Grebelsky, president of the Jerusalem Foundation in Israel, and Canadian and Israeli leaders, including Joel Reitman, chair of the Jerusalem Foundation of Canada.

At the heart of this visit is the unique partnership between the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the Jerusalem Foundation –  two pillars of the city’s intellectual and civic life. Together, they are investing in projects that elevate academic excellence, empower underserved communities, and position Jerusalem as a global city of knowledge and inclusion.

The Vancouver and Calgary events will bring together philanthropists, community leaders and alumni to celebrate this shared mission. With Hebrew University celebrating its 100th anniversary this year, the visit underscores the enduring ties between Canada and Jerusalem – and the power of education to shape a brighter future. To register, go to cfhu.org/upcoming-events. 

– Courtesy Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University

Format ImagePosted on May 30, 2025May 29, 2025Author CFHU VancouverCategories LocalTags Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University, CFHU, civil society, diversity, Jerusalem, Jerusalem Foundation, Moshe Lion

Pat Johnson’s full speech – rally for Israeli hostages March 17/24

I want to thank Daphna not just for inviting me today. But for inviting each of us here every Sunday. It’s so important.

Daphna – todah rabah.

**

I was not born into this community. Nor did I convert. I just showed up here, about 30 years ago, like a stray dog. And you took me in.

As someone coming into this community from the outside — but especially, coming from a background of progressive, left-wing activism, from the gay community, from antiracist activism, I have had the opportunity to see, to hear and to understand events from different angles.

When I showed up in Vancouver’s Jewish community, I had no idea about the depths of the familial, spiritual, emotional and personal connections between almost every Jewish person and the state and the land of Israel.

And I think this is one of the things that you probably discovered in the last five months. Most people just do not comprehend what Israel means to Jewish people.

We need to share that story. But we can only share that story if other people will listen. And that is the problem.

Because the people who need to hear it are too busy chanting to listen … or to understand.

**

Many British Columbians fail to understand why a former cabinet minister is claiming anti-Jewish bias while so many of her colleagues, who have apparently invested no effort into exploring the many forms antisemitism can take, steadfastly insist there must be some other explanation.

Israel is the national embodiment of the Jewish people. To attack Israel is to attack Jews.

Here is the bigger issue …

The people who are marching against Israel … they are not helping the people of Gaza … and they sure as hell are not making the world a better place.

The only thing they are doing is making Canada a more dangerous, toxic, intolerant country.

Hateful words against Israel are inciting violence against Jews in Canada.

And when we express concern about this undeniable correlation, we are accused of conflating anti-Zionism with antisemitism … as if that distinction makes a damn bit of difference to the victim of a hate crime.

Words of hate … lead to acts of hate. We understand this when it comes to any other group.

But when it comes to Jews … people are willing to employ the most dangerous, inflammatory and incendiary rhetoric. And let the chips fall where they may.

**

But it is not only Jews and Israelis who are under attack by these radical extremists.

It is the very essence of what it means to be Canadian. It is our core national values that these activists betray.

Day after day, we see shrieking, crazed mobs shutting down events, screaming obscenities and threatening people who are trying to live their lives, commute to work, go to the theatre, attend synagogue or get an education.

The person you should be hearing from is not me.

Selina Robinson was invited here today. But it was not safe for her to come.

What does that tell you about the state of civil discourse in Canada?

You’ve seen their rallies. You have heard their chants. Do those look to you like people of peace?

They call for Israel to stop defending itself … but they refuse to demand the one thing that would immediately end the war and all this dying – the surrender of Hamas.

On the steps of this art gallery, days after the pogrom of October 7, people stood here and celebrated murder, rape, beheadings and kidnappings.

**

We mourn … we grieve every single innocent life lost.

We do not celebrate dead innocents.

Neither do we tally up bodies in a grotesque competition where the side with the most dead wins moral victory.

And even if some of the people who march for Palestine do not celebrate beheadings, do not applaud rape or rejoice at mass murder – they are absolutely content to march alongside people who do.

Those who on these steps called those horrific, inhuman atrocities “brilliant and amazing” are not only part of a movement that is holding human beings hostage.

They are holding hostage humanity itself.

They have abducted words like peace and ceasefire, freedom and human rights — but they desecrate these values.

Canadians have allowed people who align with the most misogynistic, homophobic, xenophobic, violent and totalitarian forces on earth to masquerade as voices for justice and equality … while accusing us of humanity’s greatest crimes.

If these people were genuinely advancing human rights and social justice, they wouldn’t need to cover their faces in keffiyahs and balaclavas.

We need to figuratively tear off their masks and show Canadians who these people are …

**

Maybe many Canadians don’t care about a conflict half a world away.

But the violence, coercion, intimidation and racism these people embody is a threat to Canada… to our civility … our peace, our multiculturalism and political discourse.

But the threat does not come only from the goons marching in the streets.

It also comes from some of our elected officials – including some who, until very recently, we thought were our friends — from the trusted teacher, the activist clergyperson, the crusading union leader, the self-righteous politically engaged artist.

Meanwhile, far too many Canadians have stood on the sidelines while extremists have taken over our streets, our campuses, our community theatres, our high schools, our public service.

Maybe they don’t care about Israelis.

Maybe they don’t care if the Jewish people lose their country.

But when they wake up and see that Canadians have lost ours … Jewish Canadians and their allies will be asking. Where were you?

Where were you when we were standing up for the values that Israelis and Canadians share?

Where were you when we demanded bring them home?

Because if you are not standing with Israelis against extremism … you are emboldening extremism in Canada.

This is not about choosing between Israelis and Palestinians. Unlike the extremists, we want peace for everyone.

This is about choosing between civilization and barbarism.

And we need to ask every Canadian: Which side are you on?

Posted on March 22, 2024March 21, 2024Author Pat JohnsonCategories Op-EdTags Canada, civil society, democracy, hostages, Israel, rally
Tidbits about life now

Tidbits about life now

Teenagers are filling in for drafted reservists at Jerusalem’s Machane Yehuda market. (photo by Gil Zohar)

With the horrors of Oct. 7 embedded in our minds, in our hearts and in our souls, Israel has come together in so many ways, including for war. The effects are so broad and deep. Here is a bird’s-eye view from my narrow perch.

  • All the booms in the air, coming from far-off (and not-so-far-off) mid-air missile collisions – bravo Iron Dome! The swoosh of our fighter jets overhead – bravo Israeli Air Force! And all those customized Red Alert apps buzzing away on everyone’s cellphones – bravo Elad Nava, tech entrepreneur extraordinaire! It’s starting to sound like an orchestra out there.
  • Social media was calling for Israelis to sing, to go out on our patios at 9 p.m. and belt out Hatikvah. We did. And it felt great! So darn cathartic. What a sense of solidarity. As it turns out, on this particular evening, Hamas warned Tel Aviv of a missile barrage at 9 p.m. Guess our singing acted as type of musical Iron Dome, as no barrage arrived. Which is not to say Tel Aviv hasn’t had its share of missiles, just not at this particular time.
  • Driving to work, traffic slowed down considerably due to some “jackass” up ahead. Turned out to be a convoy of military jeeps carrying weapons and personnel to our north. As I passed them – 12 vehicles – I slowed down (in the left lane), gave a friendly honk and a thumbs up to each. Twelve times. Cars behind me did the same.
  • With 75 seconds to reach our safe room and with missile attacks being random with no real pattern, the stress and uncertainty prevents me from enjoying my private bathroom time, sitting down with a newspaper or book or my smartphone. But not under current circumstances. Just want to get in and out of there as quickly as I can..
  • Same for showering. No more basking under a warm spray of fresh water. No more humming a few showtunes while lathering up. Nope. Just a quick soaping and get out of there. For shaving, I’m getting use to a three-day growth cycle.
  • And, getting really personal … in the bedroom with the wife, I am now suffering reverse performance anxiety. I just get it done and move on. Don’t want to get caught with my pants down when the sirens sound.
  • Bravo to McDonald’s – giving McHappy meals free of charge to our soldiers. The restaurant stepped up, and many businesses are doing the same. From banks, to other restaurants, to retailers, providing goods or services at discounted prices to relieve some of the burden weighing on the country. Wonderful to see this coming together.
  • I miss my exercise routine. Was swimming a couple time a week. Now, not. The pool closed due to homeland security restrictions limiting gatherings at places of leisure. Who would categorize exercise as leisure? Anyway, I don’t think I’d hear the missile alert with my head bobbing in and out of the water while doing the breaststroke or front crawl. More so, there’s no running along the poolside, so would not make the saferoom in time.
  • We are not immune to panic buying. A few nights into the war, based on some rumour or other, I went grocery shopping to stock up on water, canned goods, candles, matches, toilet paper…. Didn’t get out of there until almost 11 p.m. The checkout line snaked all the way to the meat section. It was long, the joke being that, by the time we reach the checkout counter, Netanyahu will have negotiated a hudna (truce in Arabic). Ha.
  • I keep saying I’ll do it. Need to put more than just a half dozen bottled waters and a few inhalers in our safe room. Should stock it with canned goods, more medicine, flashlight, battery-powered radio and other survival aids. Maybe tomorrow.
  • If someone forgets their house key and knocks at our now always-locked door, they need to say a password before we’ll open the door. The theory being, if a Hamas terrorist is holding a gun to their head, they won’t say the password. Talk about paranoid. Probably run-of-the-mill war-related stress.
  • Joe Biden. His Oct. 11 “Don’t” speech was amazing! Talk about geopolitical alliances, commitments, pacts, and the such – I won’t. I’ll simply say I fell in love that evening.
  • Joe Biden. His Oct. 18 “We’ve got your back” speech was TREMENDOUS! I fell in love with him. Again. With a lightning visit to Israel, he kind of reminded me of Clint Eastwood in his glory days. He had that “make my day” squint in his eyes. Might have been him struggling to read the monitor, but he came across as a Dirty Harry kind of guy.
  • There are still a handful of Israelis – OK, maybe more than a handful – who just don’t get it. Now is not the time for divisiveness and finger pointing. There was utter failure. But the hard questions and difficult answers will come later. Now is the time for unity!
  • My wife and daughter volunteered at a high-end event (my wife works in the industry) to help arrange 1,000+ meals for our soldiers. There will be some very satiated soldiers enjoying gourmet meals in cardboard boxes and with disposable utensils.
  • And the sweet smell of my wife’s chocolate chip cookies and brownies baking in the kitchen. She slaps my hand as I go for a cookie: “Not for you! For our soldiers.” It’s that spirit of coming together.
  • My daughter left the house early the other morning and returned about an hour later with a huge orange garbage bag full of…. “What’s that?” I inquired. “Laundry. From a family in the south who was evacuated to some hotel. Mom volunteered.” As much as we get preoccupied with the war, with survival, sometimes it’s the mundane that really makes a difference.
  • Ouch. Our currency at its weakest since 2015. Pretty painful when you are sending US dollar instalments to your son studying in the States.
  • I know the diaspora is busy raising money for Israel at speeds and amounts like never before. But don’t stop once you give. Give more. This war will cost Israel billions. If you have given, please give again. Sderot is Israel’s front line. Israel is the diaspora’s front line.

Bruce Brown is a Canadian and an Israeli. He made aliyah … a long time ago. He works in Israel’s high-tech sector by day and, in spurts, is a somewhat inspired writer by night. Brown is the winner of the 2019 AJPA Rockower Award for excellence in writing, and wrote the 1998 satire An Israeli is…. Brown reflects on life in Israel – political, social, economic and personal.

Format ImagePosted on November 10, 2023November 9, 2023Author Bruce BrownCategories IsraelTags civil society, Israel-Hamas war, Oct. 7, volunteering

Civil society has been crucial

The Institute for the Study of Civil Society and Philanthropy in Israel at Hebrew University of Jerusalem recently released a report called Civil Society Engagement in Israel During the Iron Swords War: Emerging Trends and Preliminary Insights. Written by Prof. Michal Almog-Bar, Ronit Bar, Ron Barkai and Hila Marmus, it offers an analysis of the exceptional civil engagement and volunteerism witnessed in Israel during the first two weeks of the Israel-Hamas war.

Operation Iron Swords was triggered by a heinous terrorist attack on Israeli civilians, launching a massive mobilization effort aimed at bolstering the nation. In response, civil society rallied under the banner of “Defending Our Home,” setting aside preexisting social divisions. The collaborative report, authored by experts at Hebrew University, examines the remarkable civil initiatives, volunteerism and philanthropic contributions that played a pivotal role in addressing urgent needs and challenges during this critical period.

During the first two weeks of the war, civil initiatives demonstrated their ability to address the urgent needs and pressing challenges that arose within Israeli society. These initiatives played a pivotal role in executing crucial tasks such as rescue operations, evacuations, temporary shelter provision, and the distribution of vital food and medical supplies. Additionally, they provided invaluable psychological support to those affected, emphasizing the power of grassroots efforts in times of crisis.

Here are the key highlights of the institute’s report.

Diverse Civil Initiatives: the report highlights over 1,000 civil initiatives that emerged across Israel, encompassing a wide range of activities. These initiatives included the rescue and evacuation of civilians and animals, and provision of essential supplies, as well as support for bereaved families and those who went missing during the conflict.

Local and Affiliated Groups: local and affiliated groups played a significant role in addressing the specific needs of their communities, providing temporary accommodation to evacuees and extending their support beyond their local borders.

Volunteerism: 48.6% of the Israeli population engaged in volunteering during the war, a notable increase from the rate observed during the COVID-19 crisis (33%). Notably, volunteerism cut across all age groups, genders and religious affiliations. In particular, the rate of volunteerism among the Arab-Israeli population during the war reached 29%, a rise from the 19% recorded during COVID.

Spontaneous Volunteers: a substantial majority of volunteers (28%) during the war were newcomers to volunteering, underscoring the widespread participation of citizens who had not volunteered before the conflict. These newcomers were predominantly secular and had above-average incomes.

Primary Volunteer Activities: the most prominent volunteer activities included collecting, packing and distributing food and equipment, transportation of people, food and equipment, assisting security forces, participating in outreach activities through social networks, and offering essential aid to evacuees.

Volunteers and Donations: many volunteers integrated their efforts with financial contributions, participating in voluntary initiatives and crowdfunding campaigns, highlighting the synergy between volunteerism and philanthropy.

Inclusivity: unlike the predominantly youth-driven volunteering seen during the COVID crisis, individuals of all age groups participated actively. Notably, 46% of those aged 18-35, 52% of those aged 35-55 and 52% of those 55+ engaged in volunteering. Volunteerism transcended gender and religious boundaries. The use of technology for digital volunteering extended the reach to remote and mobility-limited populations, underscoring the adaptability and inclusivity of these volunteer efforts.

Financial Mobilization: Israel witnessed a swift and substantial mobilization of financial resources, surpassing levels observed during prior military operations. Support poured in from North American Jewry and Jewish federations, with donations estimated to be in the hundreds of millions of dollars.

The report underscores the importance of effective coordination between civil organizations and government bodies to ensure a unified response to pressing needs. It also suggests that civil organizations can evolve into a valuable support force for government activities during ongoing combat operations.

The study was a collaborative effort between the Institute for the Study of Civil Society and Philanthropy in Israel at Hebrew University, the Israeli Council for Volunteering, Civic Leadership (the umbrella organization of Israeli nonprofit organizations) and the Forum of Foundations in Israel. It included several surveys. The survey of volunteering during the first two weeks of the war was administered by the company Geocartographia and included 1,000 participants, constituting a representative sample of the adult population of Israel aged 18 and over.

– Courtesy Hebrew University of Jerusalem

Posted on November 10, 2023November 9, 2023Author Hebrew University of JerusalemCategories IsraelTags civil society, Institute for the Study of Civil Society and Philanthropy in Israel, Israel-Hamas war, Operation Iron Swords, volunteering

People are not bricks in a wall

Shabbat, Nov. 2
Noach, Genesis 6:9-11:32
Haftarah, Isaiah 54:1-55:5

W.C. Fields said, “Never work with animals or children, [they steal the spotlight].” Though no one ever accused him of being a Torah scholar, his insight was certainly applicable to last week’s Torah portion.

Parashat Noach, the second portion in the Book of Genesis (and my bar mitzvah portion) is perhaps the most universally known and, at least by children, most adored portion in the entire Torah. This is in part, no doubt, because it has not one animal, but all animals – and they come in pairs! So beloved and recognizable is this Torah portion that we tend to forget that there is more to it than the animals coming on the ark, two by two, the dove sent to find dry land, the rainbow, and our ancient ship builder, Noah. Tucked in at the end of the portion that bears his name is a small, poignant story about how the people (Noah’s descendants) focused their energies after the waters and fear receded, and they were once again on dry land.

We are told: “All the earth had the same language and the same words … they came upon a valley in the land of Shinar and settled there…. Then they said, ‘Come, let us build a city with a tower that reaches the sky, so that we can make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over all the earth!’” (Genesis 11:1-:4)

A midrash explains: “Many, many years passed in building the tower. It reached so great a height that it took a year to mount to the top. A brick was, therefore, more precious in the sight of the builders than a human being. If a man fell down and met his death, none took notice of it: but, if a brick dropped, they wept, because it would take a year to replace it. So intent were they upon accomplishing their purpose that they would not permit a pregnant woman to interrupt herself in her work of brick-making when she went into labour. Molding bricks, she gave birth to her child and, tying it round her body in a sheet, she went on molding bricks.” (“Yashar Noah,” in Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, 1909)

How do you measure your day? I once asked my friend who is a bricklayer this question, and he explained that the universal standard for a good day of bricklaying is 1,000 bricks day. It got me thinking, what would my 1,000-brick-day look like? What is my universal standard for a successful day?

As a parent, I could say it’s getting all the kids washed, fed, off to school and then to soccer or hockey, and back home again. Then it’s getting them to do their homework, brush their teeth and get to bed at a reasonable hour.

As a working adult, I could say it’s getting to work on time and responding to all my emails and messages – the modern-day equivalent of bricks. Then it’s meeting with constituents, handling synagogue programs and business, and getting home in time for dinner with my family.

What makes those days good days is not the quantity of work I do or the number of interactions I have, it’s the quality. The bricklayer, if reasonably competent at his task, can be irritable, antisocial, half asleep and day dreaming as he lays each brick. He can take his anger out on the bricks; he can curse at the bricks as he shleps them up the wall. He can listen to music, talk on his cellphone; it doesn’t matter. As long as the wall is solid at the end of his day and it contains 1,000 new bricks, it’s a good day of bricklaying.

But people are not bricks: we can’t take out our anger on people without consequence. We can’t ignore them or tune them out if the purpose of our day is to interact with them with care, compassion and attention. The great sin of the Tower of Babel’s builders was that they treated people like bricks and bricks like people. They wasted the one thing that set them apart from machines, which, had they existed in ancient times, could have helped build the Tower even better – they neglected their own humanity. When the bricks of our life become more important than the people in it, we, too, build a tower that is an affront to the purpose of our creation.

The midrash continues that, after God confounded the people’s language and scattered the people throughout the globe, the tower

remained: “a part sank into the earth and another part was consumed by fire; only one-third of it remained standing. The place of the tower has never lost its peculiar quality. Whoever passes it forgets all he knows.” (ibid., Ginzberg)

When we treat people like bricks, we forget what we know about ourselves and about others. We forget that the measure of our day is not how many bricks we lay, how many emails we answer, how many lunches we pack, how many children we shlep: the measure of our day is whether each person we touch, including ourselves, feels valued as a person, a blessing and a gift from God in our lives – not a brick.

Rabbi Dan Moskovitz is senior rabbi at Temple Sholom and author of The Men’s Seder (MRJ Publishing). He is also chair of the Reform Rabbis of Canada. His writing and perspective on Judaism appear in major print and digital media internationally. This article originally appeared on reformjudaism.org.

Posted on November 8, 2019November 6, 2019Author Rabbi Dan MoskovitzCategories Op-EdTags civil society, empathy, Judaism, justice, Noach, Torah, Tower of Babel
Laying out Israel’s case

Laying out Israel’s case

Yossi Klein Halevi’s Letters to My Palestinian Neighbour is recently out in paperback. (photo by Ilir Bajraktari / The Tower)

Yossi Klein Halevi grew up in the right-wing Zionist youth movement Betar, the ideological stream of Ze’ev Jabotinsky and Menachem Begin. As a youth, he wore a silver outline of the land of Israel “as we understood it” that included not only the West Bank but also the area that became the kingdom of Jordan, which the British had severed from historic Palestine. As he’s aged, he’s emphatically mellowed.

His book Letters to My Palestinian Neighbour, recently out in paperback, is, he writes, “an attempt to explain the Jewish story and the significance of Israel in Jewish identity to Palestinians who are my next-door neighbours.”

He lives in the French Hill neighbourhood of Jerusalem and repeatedly throughout the book reflects on how he is face-to-face with the division between their places.

Each chapter – essay, really – begins with “Dear neighbour.”

image - Letters to My Palestinian Neighbour book cover“From my apartment, I can just barely see the checkpoint you must cross – if you have a permit at all – to enter Jerusalem.” He talks about when, “before the wall was built, before so much else that went wrong, I tried to get to know you.”

In 1998, he set out on a pilgrimage into Islam and Christianity, a religious Jew “seeking not so much to understand your theology as to experience something of your devotional life. I wanted to learn how you pray, how you encounter God in your most intimate moments.”

During those comparatively placid times, he recalls, Israelis made little effort to accommodate their neighbours.

“For many years we in Israel ignored you, treated you as invisible, transparent. Just as the Arab world denied the right of the Jews to define themselves as a people deserving national sovereignty, so we denied the Palestinians the right to define themselves as a distinct people within the Arab nation, and likewise deserving national sovereignty. To solve our conflict, we must recognize not only each other’s right to self-determination but also each side’s right to self-definition.”

Klein Halevi made aliyah from the United States in 1982. Now a senior fellow of the Shalom Hartman Institute – “Israel’s preeminent centre for pluralistic Jewish research and education” – he co-directs the institute’s Muslim Leadership Initiative, is the author of numerous books and is a prolific commentator and former contributing editor of the New Republic. He has made the book’s Arabic translation available to download for free.

He argues that each side must be allowed to define themselves.

“So who are the Jews? A religion? A people? An ethnicity? A race?… That question impacts directly on our conflict. It goes to the heart of the Arab world’s rejection of Israel’s legitimacy as the nation-state of the Jewish people,” Klein Halevi writes. “Even Palestinian moderates I’ve known who want to end the bloodshed tend to deny that the Jews are an authentic nation. So long as Palestinian leaders insist on defining the Jews as a religion rather than allowing us to define ourselves as we have since ancient times – as a people with a particular faith – then Israel will continue to be seen as illegitimate, its existence an open question.”

He acknowledges that the problem occurs on both sides.

“Some Jews continue to try to ‘prove’ that Palestinian national identity is a fiction, that you are a contrived people. Of course you are – and so are we. All national identities are, by definition, contrived: at a certain point, groups of people determine that they share more in common than apart and invent themselves as a nation, with a common language, memory and evolving story. The emergence of a nation is an inherently subjective process.”

But he attempts to disabuse Palestinians and Arabic readers of the idea that Israel can be overcome.

“I’ve often heard from Palestinians that, just as the Ottoman Turks came here and left, and the British came here and left, so, too, will the Zionists one day leave. That analogy ignores Zionism’s singular achievement. None of those invaders founded a thriving society, let alone a sovereign state. They eventually went back to their own homelands. More than anything else, I need you to understand this: the Jews succeeded where the Crusaders and the Ottomans and the British failed because we didn’t merely come here. We returned.”

This sense of destiny is evocatively expressed when Klein Halevi writes about the War of Independence.

“Our side began the war with three tanks and four combat planes. And we were alone. That, as it turned out, was a crucial advantage, because desperation forced us to mobilize our entire society for a war of survival. If your side had prevailed, few if any Jews would have been left here. As a result, the Jews fought with such determination that only a handful of our communities fell. There was nowhere left to run; we’d reached the final shore of Jewish history.”

But the author makes an effort to acknowledge some of the harsh realities of that victory and the subsequent Israeli control of Palestinian areas and its effect on people. He recalls a moment during a call-up during his reserve service.

“A chubby teenage Palestinian boy, accused of stone throwing, was brought, blindfolded, into our tent camp. A group of soldiers from the border police unit gathered around. One said to him in Arabic: ‘Repeat after me: one order of hummus, one order of fava beans, I love the border police.’ The young man dutifully repeated the rhymed Arabic ditty. There was laughter.… That last story haunts me most of all. It is, seemingly, insignificant. The prisoner wasn’t physically abused; his captors, young soldiers under enormous strain, shared a joke. But that incident embodies for me the corruption of occupation. When my son was about to be drafted into the army I told him: there are times when as a soldier you may have to kill. But you are never permitted, under any circumstances, to humiliate another human being. That is a core Jewish principle.”

He acknowledges his pain over an eventual partition that would, for example, see the Jewish holy city of Hebron as part of an independent Palestine. But, he says: “The only solution worse than dividing this land into two states is creating one state that would devour itself. No two peoples who fought a 100-year existential war can share the intimate workings of government. The current conflict between us would pale beside the rage that would erupt when competing for the same means of power. The most likely model is the disintegration of Yugoslavia into warring ethnic and religious factions – perhaps even worse. A one-state solution would condemn us to a nightmare entwinement – and deprive us both of that which justice requires: self-determination, to be free peoples in our own sovereign homelands.… If Jaffa belongs to you and Hebron belongs to me, then we have two options. We can continue fighting for another 100 years, in the hope that one side or the other will prevail. Or we can accept the solution that has been on the table almost since the conflict began, and divide the land between us. In accepting partition we are not betraying our histories, neighbour; we are conceding that history has given us no real choice.”

Near the end, Klein Halevi reflects that some simple human goodness could have made a massive historic difference.

“Israel is a restless society of uprooted and re-rooted refugees and children of refugees, and the dark side of our vitality is a frankness that can easily become rudeness, the antithesis of Arab decorousness. Israelis often don’t know how to treat each other with respect, let alone those we are occupying. We are a people in a hurry to compensate for our lost centuries of nationhood, a people that doesn’t pay attention to niceties. Sometimes I think that, if only we’d known how to show your people simple respect, so much could have been different here.”

The new paperback edition includes an epilogue of “letters” in response to his neighbourly missives. Some, the author admits, are predictably harsh, dismissive and threatening. But many are long, thoughtful and inspiring. Klein Halevi has started a conversation. It is invigorating and heartily recommended to be a part of it as a reader.

Format ImagePosted on September 20, 2019September 17, 2019Author Pat JohnsonCategories BooksTags civil society, history, Israel, Israeli-Palestinian conflict, lifestyle, philosophy, Yossi Klein Halevi

Not only grades matter

In the Wisconsin town of Baraboo, high school students in their final year before graduation take formal pictures on the steps of the town’s courthouse. Census figures say that the town of 12,000 in the country’s heartland is 94% white.

Among the pictures available for purchase on the website of a local photographer was one with only the boys and in which many – most, it appears – were performing a Nazi salute. (The photo disappeared from the site on Monday but is widely available online.) One of the students near the front did not make the Nazi salute – instead he made a hand signal made popular by far-right white supremacists. He’s the real rebel, we suppose.

Actions like these can often be sparked by the dumb idea of one or two kids, with others following along. It would be distressing and disgusting at the best of times but, now, when there is a clear, genuine resurgence of white supremacy, antisemitism, xenophobia and other forms of intolerance in the United States and worldwide, this takes on a deeper resonance. Is this an example of a bunch of high schoolers thinking (perversely) that this would be funny or kooky or somehow amusing? Or is there, among the crowd, a few or a lot who know what the salute really means, identify with the ideology behind it and, because of the mainstreaming of “alt-right” ideas in the country, felt emboldened to make this statement?

Certainly, there are worse hate crimes and other catastrophes in the United States – including racially motivated and gun violence – that deserve attention. Yet, this incident sticks out for a number of reasons.

The picture is jarring. Kids – young adults almost – well-dressed in their graduation suits, nearing a turning point in their lives, standing in front of the embodiment of justice and rule of law in their society, raising their arms aloft en masse in a motion determined to provoke.

But this is not the most alarming thing about the photo and how it came to be. Deep into the New York Times story about the incident, a recent alumna of the high school said she was disappointed but not shocked, knowing that a group of boys in the school were noted for bullying and offensive remarks. “I’m not surprised by them doing this,” she said.

Then she added: “But I’m surprised that there’s so many of them doing this. Photographers were there; the parents were there; community members were there.”

There’s more to the story. The photo was apparently taken months ago and it took this long for anyone to raise alarms.

Still more: a young man in the back of the photo whose arms remain by his side said, on Facebook, that the salute was the idea of the photographer. Should this make us feel better? If true, the photographer should suffer professional and social consequences. But were there parents and other community members who witnessed this live and stood by silently?

In a world not lacking in tragedies or social ills, this is not the worst of the week’s news. Yet it resonates because these young people are part of the next generation we are depending on to fix society’s ills and improve the world. Have their parents, grandparents and educators done their jobs in preparing them for the world and their responsibilities in it?

In a letter to parents, the superintendent of the school district said her team was “extremely troubled” by the image.

“Clearly, we have a lot of work to do to ensure that our schools remain positive and safe environments for all students, staff and community,” she wrote. “If the gesture is what it appears to be, the district will pursue any and all available and appropriate actions, including legal, to address the issue.”

Fair enough. But, first and foremost, perhaps they should look at their curriculum and also consider what messages are being sent consciously or unconsciously by teachers, administrators and other role models before they initiate legal or any other actions against the students.

While school administrators and teachers have much on their plates – shrinking budgets and broadening demands, as well as trying to prevent their charges from being murdered in yet another gun rampage – this should be a warning for educators everywhere to remember that success is not only measured in grades and that a proper education includes more than academics.

Posted on November 16, 2018November 15, 2018Author The Editorial BoardCategories From the JITags antisemitism, Baraboo, civil society, education, United States
Proudly powered by WordPress