Judaism

Taking life a step at a time

Feeding teenage boys healthy, homemade food is no joke. It’s a marathon and not a sprint. Every time, I start with “Where did the leftovers go? Did you eat them all?” and “What else can I possibly throw together from the produce in the fridge and meat in the freezer?”

For anyone who is immersed in household routines, food production easily moves from creative enjoyment to drudgery. This morning, I pondered what to make for dinner, as I walked the dog. Just like the need to think up meals, the dog walk feels heavy, each step weighing me down. Then I hear a noise and look up to see Canada geese migrating home. It’s a sign of spring and, after a long winter, a sign of joy.

We’re experiencing what looks like a failing ceasefire, ongoing wars and, in North America, ongoing antisemitic upheaval. I feel I have that sentence on repeat. The situations change but the worry about world conflicts and about friends and family remains. I’m afraid to invest in commenting on today’s news because tomorrow, we’re still going to wrestle with these issues, but the specifics will change. I feel swamped by it, and I’ll guess that I’m not alone in that.

I continue to study Daf Yomi, a page of Babylonian Talmud a day. Lately, I’ve been trying to follow the rabbis in Menachot, as they cover the particulars of grain sacrifices and how they were carried out in the Temple. The Second Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed just under 2,000 years ago, and these rabbis were discussing this more than 1,500 years ago. On one hand, the rabbis’ debate feels important – they worried that, should the Temple be rebuilt, they would need to understand and replicate these sacrifices. On the other hand, the incredible level of nuance in these discussions feels over the top. It’s way past “How one loads the dishwasher” and up there with “How do you clean out the sink drain?” and “Do you sort coffee grounds from tea leaves in your compost?”

It’s between these extremes that a lot of spiritual discussion happens. It’s something like “We are but a grain of sand on an endless beach” and, at the same time, “Listen to your heartbeat, as its beat is the centre of the universe.” As individuals, our lives are nothing in the eternal universe and, also, we are the centre of everything all at once.

I get mired in the minutiae, particularly when it comes to household management. Societally, this is common for middle-aged moms with kids at home. This past week, we bought our kids an old-fashioned clock radio, in hopes they would wake up on their own. Despite the clock, their dad goes in first to tell them to wake up. I come in 15 minutes later, to rouse them again. This morning, something occurred to me as I sang “Modeh Ani” at high volume to my teenagers and then a little Paul Simon, “Oh, my momma, she loves me, she loves me, she gets down on her knees and hugs me, she loves me like a rock!” (I can be annoyingly loud and cheery in the morning.) Maybe, even at 7:15, my boys like seeing us do this. Maybe these will be things they remember. Maybe this is how they are reminded that their parents love them.

Slogans that urge us onwards, to do “great things,” like “How we spend our days is how we spend our lives,” can really rub me the wrong way. After the raucous wakeup, I was outside, dressed and walking the dog 15 minutes later, wondering if this meant that picking up dog poop or reminding a kid not to forget his lunch was indeed how I’d spend my life. In a “loud” world full of people who boast of big world-changing endeavours, where does that leave me?

Some people I went to school with are, indeed, in big important positions in business or nonprofits, making change in the world, and that can make a person feel small and hopeless. The notion of tikkun olam, or fixing the world, feels far off. This umbrella phrase is a concept consisting of many individual mitzvot (commandments). It’s misleading and too broad when the individual commandments (visit the sick, provide food for the poor in your community, etc.) are accessible. Example: I saw a new mom of twins feeling desperate online. I knew, from experience, how to help.

“You can do this,” I wrote. “Take it one feed, one diaper change, one snack and one nap at a time. Take all the help you are offered. Think forward but only to the next thing you have to do.”

When I was in the trenches, alone, with my twin infants, I felt furious when smiling people said, “Enjoy it! It will all go by so quickly.” It was painful and slow, like being a grain of sand on an endless beach. Now, though, as I jostle my teens off to school with their lunch bags, I’m reminded that we can do big things, like raise a whole new generation, through these small details.

The rabbis spent a lot of energy trying to reconstitute what Temple sacrifice looked like. This seems a bit much to me until a kid loses his brand new, handknit mittens. Suddenly we’re retracing our steps, calling the places where he might have left them, and getting into the nitty-gritty. These little steps, how we spend our days, are, I believe, how we find our humanity. The global conflicts and issues change, but, if we can just focus on doing these small tasks for others, we can make enormous change over time.

It’s OK to be annoyed, bored and frustrated by all of life’s mindless tasks. That’s a real feeling that many of us share! It’s legitimate. Now, though, I have to go make chicken meatballs, with onions and dill and matzah meal in them, for supper, which we’ll have with potatoes, sweet potatoes, beets and a salad.

These endless details? They’re about nothing. They mean everything.

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.

Rabbi marks 13 years

Over the weekend of May 8, Temple Sholom celebrates Rabbi Dan Moskovitz’s “bar mitzvah” year as leader of the congregation. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Rabbi Dan Moskovitz will celebrate his bar mitzvah for the third time on May 9. Marking 13 years since his arrival as senior rabbi at Vancouver’s Reform Temple Sholom, the congregation is fêting him with a 1980s-themed bar mitzvah party.

Moskovitz may experience a sense of déjà vu, since he had not one but two bar mitzvahs in 1983.

“My dad was president of the Reform congregation and vice-president of the Conservative synagogue,” the rabbi said of growing up in Foster City, in the San Francisco Bay Area. “I’m a Jewish mutt, I like to say.”

He had a Reform bar mitzvah on Friday night and a Conservative one on Saturday morning. The weekend of his Temple Sholom celebration will be similarly packed.

Friday night Shabbat services are open to the entire community, with speakers reflecting on his tenure, something that makes Moskovitz feel awkward.

“It’s weird to say, ‘Can you talk about me?’” he said. “I love showering praise on others. I truly don’t want to be the centre of attention.”

He understands, though, what the moment represents, not just for him, but for the congregation.

“I recognize that I play a significant role in people’s lives at the most important times,” he said. “That’s a privilege.”

Letting people say thank you, he added, is part of that relationship.

Moskovitz, commonly known as “Rabbi Dan,” has no similar reluctance when it comes to the menu for the Friday night Oneg, which will be stocked with his favourite desserts – Rice Krispie squares and caramel apples.

Saturday morning will belong to someone else entirely: a bar mitzvah boy whose thunder Moskovitz is not about to steal. “This is all about you,” the rabbi assured him.

The Saturday night party will be ’80s nostalgia – but tasteful, Moskovitz promised. Members of the congregation will speak, as will Rabbi Philip Bregman, Temple Sholom’s rabbi emeritus, and leaders of the broader community. Tickets are available on the shul’s website, templesholom.ca.

Sunday morning will feature a bagels-and-brunch gathering for the religious school’s 220 kids and their parents.

The festivities are in support of causes that are close to the rabbi’s heart. Funds raised will go into two endowments.

The first is a pastoral care initiative, led by Rabbi Sally Finestone, whose sole focus is seniors, including regular visits, supporting their families, even driving people to appointments. As the congregation has grown to more than 1,000 households, Finestone is able to take some of the burden off Moskovitz, Associate Rabbi Carey Brown and Cantor Shani Cohen. This program, and Finestone’s position, began through an endowment in memory of Michael Jacobson.

The second endowment, originated by Susan Mendelson and her husband, the late Jack Lutsky, supports a scholar-in-residence program, which has allowed Temple Sholom and the broader community to learn from Israeli writer and thinker Yossi Klein Halevi for the past several years.

Though Moskovitz’s visit to Vancouver before being hired was in a typical Vancouver rainstorm, he instantly felt he had found a home.

“I just fell in love with this congregation,” he told the Independent.

What stands out most, he said, is that, in Vancouver, congregants don’t simply attend services, they participate. “They own it,” he said.

It’s a contrast, he suggested, to parts of American Reform Judaism, where it can feel like congregants outsource their religion to the rabbi, drop their kids off at shul and pick them up after. “I call it drive-by Jewing,” said Moskovitz.

“Our congregation shows up. The parents don’t just drop off their kids. They come in the building. They stay for minyan,” he said.

Something else that surprised him about Vancouver is the level of collaboration among Jewish institutions, exemplified by the inter-denominational Rabbinical Association of Vancouver. It’s a model, he believes, that could reshape Jewish communal life elsewhere.

Of course, not everything has been easy. Rising antisemitism in Canada has forced him into a more public, defensive role than he ever expected. It’s not why he became a rabbi, he said, but it has become part of the job.

Thirteen years in, Moskovitz has no plans to leave.

“I never want to,” he said.

Neither, apparently, does the congregation ever want him to go. They gave him a life appointment, or to age 67: “Whichever comes first,” he said.

Aside from missing his extended family and Trader Joe’s, Moskovitz has no regrets about the move to a new city and country – the citizenship test for which, he noted, he aced, with 20 right answers out of 20.

“My parents are older now. It’s hard for them to travel,” he said. “My father-in-law is older also, so that’s hard. My kids grew up without that drop-by grandparenting, which is so special. So that’s been a trade-off.”

His family has likewise found a home at Temple Sholom, Moskovitz added. His wife, Sharon Mishler, is a true partner in the work, he said.

“When I’m in the front of the congregation leading the synagogue and services, she’s in the back of the congregation creating relationships and connecting people,” said the rabbi. “She takes brides to the mikvah. She meets with our seniors. She takes people out to lunch. She makes phone calls. She’s a great source of information for me when people tell her things that they think I should know about somebody being sick or whatever it is.”

Their son Judah, 20, studies political science and history at the University of Ottawa and works on Parliament Hill for Vancouver Granville Member of Parliament Taleeb Noormohamed. He was just selected as the co-chair of the Canadian Jewish Political Affairs Committee Fellowship.

Son Levi, 18, graduates from King David High School this spring and was accepted early to Western University’s Ivey Business School.

Daughter Estee, 14, also a student at King David, has an aptitude for science and, like her brothers, is very involved with BBYO (formerly B’nai B’rith Youth Organization), where she is vice-president of the chapter board.

“I never thought that I would be the rabbi of a synagogue that I’d want to join,” Moskovitz said. “I thought that I would always have to compromise my spirituality to serve the masses of my community.”

At Temple Sholom, he is truly at home.

“It is Judaism in the way that I like my Judaism,” he said. “It’s traditional but inclusive and egalitarian. Progressive in what I think are all the right ways in terms of trying to adapt and respond to modernity, but not watered down Judaism in the process. And it’s a loving, caring congregation.”

Gala fêtes Infeld’s 20th

Rabbi Jonathan Infeld, centre, with his wife Lissa Weinberger, and their kids, left to right, Yair, Naomi and Avishai. Congregation Beth Israel’s Be the Light Gala on June 4 celebrates Infeld’s 20th year as the synagogue’s spiritual leader. The rabbi says he and his family have “been very lucky to raise a family here and help build a synagogue.” (photo from Beth Israel)

At Congregation Beth Israel’s Be the Light fundraising gala on June 4, the star of the show will be Rabbi Jonathan Infeld, who is celebrating his 20th anniversary as the congregation’s spiritual head. Known for his warmth, charisma and approachability, the rabbi has spearheaded profound changes in the BI community, both physically and spiritually.

The synagogue building itself has been completely transformed, but the heart of BI has grown exponentially, too, both in congregation numbers and in participation. Gary Averbach, a BI member since the 1970s and chair of the committee that fundraised for BI’s rebuild, recalled a younger Infeld, who was 33 when he first applied for the position at Beth Israel.

“He was young and was anxious to live in Canada, and especially in Vancouver,” he said. “He and his wife had decided on their honeymoon that, if there was one place to live other than Israel, it was Vancouver. That impressed me because we didn’t want a rabbi who would see Vancouver as a steppingstone to Los Angeles or New York. We wanted someone who would see Vancouver as a home and a place to raise their family.

“The total change in the physical and human structure of Beth Israel over 20 years is a testament to Rabbi Infeld,” Averbach continued. “As an overseer of the community, he is humble, never arrogant. One example of this is his reluctance to sit on the bimah during services. He designed the bimah such that he could sit with the congregation because he felt the rabbi’s place was with the congregation, not above the congregation. That shows his humility.”

Peter Lutsky, a past board member and past president at BI, spoke fondly of Infeld. “He’s caring, approachable and able to blend the practical and the spiritual,” said Lutsky. “For me, from a Jewish perspective, he’s connected the head and the heart, truly endearing himself not just to me, but to all shul members over the years.”

Infeld is proud of what the congregation has achieved over the past two decades. “The best part of it has been the building of a community with so many people involved,” he reflected. “We’re the largest egalitarian, twice-daily minyan on the West Coast, and we’ve been able to maintain that. When my family and I first arrived in Vancouver, BI Shabbat morning attendance averaged between 35 and 40, but today it’s grown to 150 to 200. And that’s on an ordinary Shabbat! Seeing that growth is fabulous.”

Beth Israel’s “culture of chesed” is also a point of pride for the community, Infeld noted. For example, One Heart Dinner delivers a free monthly meal to those with food insecurity, and the Soup Troupe offers a litre of soup each month to families receiving assistance from Jewish Family Services’ the Kitchen. The Vancouver Jewish Community Garden, a partnership between BI, JFS and Vancouver Talmud Torah, allows students, seniors, congregants and others to participate physically and meaningfully in the act of growing fruit and vegetables. Last year, the garden team donated 1,000 pounds of produce to families in need.

Emily Greenberg, head of school at VTT, worked closely with Infeld on the vision for the community garden. “We envisioned a place where everyone could come together to be Jewish and get their hands dirty in what it means to be Jewish and part of the community,” she said. “It’s been a tremendous project to do together alongside JFS.”

Greenberg said VTT is deeply indebted to Infeld for the many years he has committed to actively promoting Jewish education.

“He truly understands how important it is that we plant the seeds of Jewish education early, and he works with our Grade 5s all year, investing in those relationships and getting them jazzed up for their b’nai mitzvah. As a parent whose kids went through Beth Israel for their b’nai mitzvah, I’ve gotten to know him well. Rabbi Infeld just exudes so much care about what he does. His work is incredibly genuine and purposeful.”

Looking back on his job acceptance 20 years ago, Infeld said it was a great decision to come to Vancouver. “We’ve been very lucky to raise a family here and help build a synagogue,” he said. “All our kids have gone from preschool at the JCC, to VTT and then to KDHS, so we’ve been direct recipients of the excellent Jewish institutions in Vancouver.”

In terms of what he’s accomplished at Beth Israel, he insisted “it’s never about me – it’s always about us. At Beth Israel, we’ve built our community together, and it’s taken fabulous leadership, lay and spiritual. Yes, we rebuilt the entire physical structure of the synagogue, but we’ve also worked on the soul, and continue to build the soul of the congregation.”

Infeld reflected on the growth of key Jewish organizations since 2006, including JACS, JFS and the Jewish day schools. “When we first arrived, KDHS was just getting off the ground and now it’s one of the vibrant hearts of our community,” he said.

A rabbi’s job is never easy, but Infeld said he and his family are grateful to have found a warm, lovely home in Vancouver and at Beth Israel.

“We’ve found people who are extraordinary, and who are more than just congregants, but who are friends and family,” he said. “They’ve been there for us in challenging times and in times of celebration, such as the gala. I’m looking forward to the gala, and kudos to Jacci Sandler, the gala committee, donors and participants, who are working hard to make it a success.”

Infeld’s contract takes him through to retirement, and Averbach said he hopes that’s a long way away. “He’s still young,” said Averbach, “and I hope this 20th anniversary represents not even half of his term in Vancouver!”

For gala tickets, go to bethelightgala.com.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.

Challah Mom comes to Vancouver

Anat Ishai, aka Challah Mom, leads a women’s bake session on May 13. She teaches challah baking as a form of therapeutic self-care, mindfulness & spiritual grounding. After years marked by grief, conflict & collective trauma, this gathering is an intentional, welcoming & apolitical space for joy, connection & togetherness. (photo from thechallahmom.com)

Click here for tickets (by donation) to the Vancouver in-person event presented by NCJW Vancouver and sponsored by PJ Library.

– NCJW Vancouver

New law a desecration

Israeli Minster of National Security Itamar Ben G’vir holds up a champagne bottle in the Knesset on March 30, toasting the passage of Israel’s new death penalty law. (screenshot)

On March 30, two days before erev Passover, Israeli Minister of National Security Itamar Ben-Gvir celebrated the passing of his racist, dangerous, vengeful and unjust death penalty law by raising a champagne bottle and drinking to victory. The customary toast in Jewish tradition, of course, is to exclaim “L’chaim!” (“To life!”) Partly for this reason, the name chosen for the Jewish anti-death penalty group I co-founded, which now includes thousands of members in Israel and abroad, is “L’chaim! Jews Against the Death Penalty.” Those members of the Knesset who support this law have upended the phrase meant to evoke Judaism’s core life-affirming principles.

While Ben-Gvir claims to be a pious and observant Jew, his actions once again reveal his blatant disregard for Jewish values, and an essential mockery of Jewish ritual symbolism. He might as well have screamed “Lamavet” (“To death”) for his celebratory toast. Make no mistake: the passage of this death penalty law will certainly bring death for both convicted terrorists and innocent Israelis and Jews across the world. It is an abomination that will prove disastrous for multiple reasons.

Wine at Passover

One of the most well-known facts about the Passover seder, which both Jews and many non-Jews are keenly aware of, is that it traditionally involves drinking four cups of wine or grape juice. These four cups are a mandatory rabbinic commandment, representing the four expressions of redemption God used in Exodus 6:6-7 to promise freedom to the Israelites. Consumed at specific intervals in the seder, they symbolize freedom, joy, and key stages of liberation, from slavery to becoming a nation.

Perhaps one of the most widely understood reasons for drinking wine on Passover, as on Purim and on any Jewish holiday, is its symbolism of life, joy, sanctification, and transformation used to elevate holy moments like Shabbat, holidays and weddings. It signifies “cheering the heart,” redemption (specifically the four cups at Passover) and divine blessing, while also serving as a reminder of the need for temperance and balance. By lifting a glass for death just ahead of Passover, Ben-Gvir has effectively desecrated this sacred tradition with inverted, grotesque symbolism.

Another tradition of the Passover seder highlights the extent of the sacrilege of Ben-Gvir’s celebration. It is customary for seder-goers to remove 10 drops of wine, one for each of the plagues they chant, symbolizing how the suffering that each affliction produced for our people’s enemies diminishes our joy. This list culminates in the 10th plague of the death of the firstborn of Egypt at the hands of Malakh Hamavet, the Angel of Death. Instead of honouring this Passover ritual, Ben-Gvir profaned it by using wine to glorify killing.

The 10 Plagues

It is most fitting, with Passover only recently having ended, for L’chaim to use the 10 Plagues – with which God cursed the Egyptians in response to Pharaoh’s “hardened heart” – as symbols of the many reasons to oppose the death penalty. We align these biblical maladies with 10 damning strikes against the death penalty to highlight that capital punishment itself is a plague on any society that enacts it. Capital punishment condemns any government that wields it, including Israel now, infinitely more so than any of the individuals it condemns to death.

Dam (Blood): Israel’s death penalty law could increase terrorism, making it more enticing to would-be martyrs (shahids).

Tzifatdeiya (Frogs): It will undoubtedly endanger Jews worldwide.

Kinim (Lice): From Adolf Hitler to Donald Trump, Machiavellian politicians wield the death penalty as a political tool, particularly for election campaigns, and that is the case with this law. Consider the recent examples in Israel of Ben-Gvir’s noose-shaped lapel pin and his video promoting the death penalty law, illicitly filmed at a gallows museum in Jerusalem, as well as Limor Son Har-Melech’s Nazi-inspired Purim costume featuring an injection syringe.

Arov (Wild Animals): Jewish tradition makes the death penalty virtually impossible to carry out. Passage of this law has betrayed the life-affirming core of that tradition.

Dever (Pestilence): Terms like “deterrence,” which is a fallacious delusion when applied to the death penalty, and “retributive” or “proportional” justice, are veils for vengeance. Unequivocally, revenge does not bring closure for murder victims’ loved ones.

Sh’chin (Boils): The death penalty is racist, and this law in particular is viciously discriminatory.

Barad (Hail): The death penalty inherently violates the human right to life. Relatedly, it often results in physical torture, and always is psychological torture, for individuals counting down to their execution day. There is no humane way to execute human beings against their will.

Arbeh (Locusts): Many execution methods are direct Nazi legacies, including firing squad, gassing and lethal injection.

Choshech (Darkness): Capital punishment will traumatize the executioners within the Israel Prison Service. This law also risks placing anyone involved in contravention of human rights treaties.

Makat Bechorot (Death of the Firstborn): The death penalty inevitably risks executing the innocent.

Onward toward repeal

On March 30, the same day that the Knesset passed this barbaric law, a vast coalition of Jewish organizations across Israel and the world immediately petitioned the Israeli Supreme Court to repeal it. The next day, the Supreme Court ordered that the state must respond to the petition and the request for an interim injunction by May 24. The members of L’chaim, together with Jews of good conscience and all of civilized humanity, will continue to do all we can to support this vital, sacred effort.

None other than death penalty abolitionist Elie Wiesel (1928-2016) aptly referred to capital punishment as the “Angel of Death.” It is high time to banish this medieval plague from Israel once and for all. The final uplifting song of the Passover seder is “L’shanah haba’ah b’Yerushalayim” (“Next year in Jerusalem”). It is our consummate hope and intention that next Passover, Jerusalem will see the repeal of this monstrous legislation.

Cantor Michael Zoosman is a certified spiritual care practitioner and received his cantorial ordination from the Jewish Theological Seminary of America. He sits as an advisory committee member at Death Penalty Action and is co-founder of L’chaim! Jews Against the Death Penalty. Zoosman is a former Jewish prison chaplain and psychiatric hospital chaplain. He lives with his family in Vancouver.

Resilient joy in tough times

A few days ago, our beloved, big, senior dog had a limp. We went to the vet, on short notice. Our regular vet was away. It was icy and snowy. I got the dog into my 23-year-old car, backed it out of the 123-year-old garage. We made it there on time. The dog got help for what is maybe arthritis or an injury, perhaps from the ice. Driving home, I wondered if I should run an errand but decided, nope, it was windy and raw. The dog should be warm and cozy at home again.

I parked the car in the driveway, got the dog inside and then returned to put my car into our narrow garage. I heaved open the left garage door, planting it into the ice. I hoped the prairie winds wouldn’t slam it shut again. When I got back into the car, it was completely dead. Wouldn’t start.

Then I realized that the heavy garage door had come off its bottom hinge. Huge screws were hanging halfway out. I closed it as best I could and locked it. Inside again, I nearly keeled over because I’d missed eating lunch.

When I warmed up, ate, triaged my work and called the Canadian Automobile Association, I anticipated the worst. The day hadn’t gone as planned.

Yet, CAA help arrived quickly. Miraculously, the fix was simple. A terminal needed to be replaced on my battery. At that moment, the raw day tempered by a cup of hot tea and a moment to think, I was seized with gratitude. What if my car had died on a busy street, with the dog inside? What if we’d been stuck at the vet? What if I’d stopped to run an errand and then been stuck with a car that wouldn’t start and a dog hurting too much to walk home?

Back inside, I looked again at a garage door photo I’d taken. It could have been even worse. What if I hadn’t noticed the screws hanging off the hinge? What if I’d shoved the heavy door and it crushed me underneath it instead? The possibilities were far worse once I’d thought about what happened. This has a happy ending. My husband will repair the hinge when that ice melts. My car now starts. My dog is on medicine and will hopefully be better soon. Gratitude felt like the only answer here.

This was midweek, and we stayed close to home through the weekend. Though we live near downtown Winnipeg, where the national NDP convention took place, we steered clear. At synagogue, one kid played baritone sax for the family service on Shabbat, as little kids danced along in their seats. My other kid greeted families in the lobby as they arrived. Before the wiggly kids got there, we spent a few moments at the main service and did the Birchot Hashachar, the morning blessings, where we thank G-d repeatedly for the good things, the everyday basics, happening in our lives.

On Sunday, our teens spent time on science fair preparation and on helping deliver Passover hampers for those in need, and we adults worked on the household. My husband cleaned steadily but managed to burn something in the microwave, break a pencil sharpener and a cereal bowl. I began to worry again about this weird bad luck, when I thought of the Birchot Hashachar. I remembered what to do. Being resilient meant pausing and finding gratitude instead.

Emergency services had to be called to the high school earlier this week for a student, but, this weekend, my kids are safe, healthy and doing productive things. Though I walked past slogans calling for radical protests at the NDP convention and a woman attendee wearing a keffiyeh at the café right near home, we’re safe, for now.

This year’s celebration of Israel’s birthday feels emotionally like a larger, more difficult version of our small misadventures. War is no joke. Israel is really going through it right now. Via social media, I see these extended family members in my tribe, my community, running for bomb shelters and fighting. Yet, I’m so impressed by the way Israelis strive for beauty and everyday normalcy – trips to the park, surfing and making music – with so much violent disruption. It’s been scary to watch, and I’m not there. That said, maybe the lesson in this birthday is seeing how, after these horrible, life-shattering events, it’s possible to practice that mind shift. The gratitude one, where strangers care for one another in bomb shelters, sharing food, music and space while struggling with what could have happened.

It’s unsettling to be Jewish near a Canadian political convention peddling antisemitic tropes. I’m reeling from seeing a premier who lives near me, who is also a parent I’ve spoken to on the playground, say deeply unsettling words on the NDP stage. Even if Wab Kinew’s “Epstein class” comment wasn’t intended to be antisemitic, his words, about this “dumb war” horrified me.

Jewish tradition teaches that all lives are valuable. Premier Kinew said North American lives shouldn’t be lost – to stop a repressive regime that has already killed thousands of its citizens. Our lives are no more valuable than theirs. Iranians deserve help, as do all the people harmed by the horrible regime and its terror proxies.

In precarious times, it’s helpful to seek the good. To remember that heavy garage door, still dangling off its hinge, the car that died, thankfully, in the driveway and was fixed, and the veterinary help that came when needed. Being grateful and practising joy, even when it’s a strain, is complicated. I want to be happy on Israel’s birthday, but it’s a complicated emotion, too. It requires practising gratitude and celebration even when times are tough, but that’s what we’re “commanded” to do sometimes.

This year, I wish for peace and everything good for everyone in Israel and its neighbours, as well as in other places where conflict reigns. Thank goodness Israel exists, as a place of refuge for all Jews, but it’s OK to wish for safer times at home in the diaspora, too. May the year ahead be an easier one, without war or complication; one in which we can all embrace less fear and more simple joy.

Tarot as spiritual ritual

Alycia Fridkin holds the Wheel of Fortune tarot card, which features the Tetragrammaton of G-d’s name interspersed between the letters T, A, R, O. (photo from Alycia Fridkin)

I love tarot. I love how you can receive insight anywhere, anytime using only what G-d gave you and a deck of cards. It’s a perfect spiritual practice for Jews who have been wandering spiritually. Not everyone knows enough Hebrew to read our sacred texts, and not everyone feels connected through our traditional prayers or going to the synagogue. But many are yearning for deep connection. New ways of practising spirituality are needed.

Tarot has drawn me closer to Judaism, Jewish people, G-d and myself. I have come back to the cards repeatedly for guidance, with my Jewish self leading the way. I am on a journey towards loving the Torah again, and tarot is helping me get there.

For those who don’t know, tarot is a form of divination originating in Italy in the mid-15th century. It relies on using one’s intuition to channel wisdom from the divine, using a deck of cards with meaningful images, numerology and symbols. Although tarot is not traditionally used in Jewish contexts, using intuition as a spiritual practice is not new to Judaism. It goes back to our roots, which were pagan in nature. Our women ancestors played important roles in the times of the Temple, using their intuitive wisdom as priestesses and healers. Tarot invites us to return to our spiritual roots that were lost, and to search for meaning within our own bodies and spirits.

I use tarot every day to connect with G-d and to feel a sacred connection to my Jewish spiritual self. In my view, tarot is a spiritual tool, just like Torah, to help us connect with the divine. Reading tarot guides me in life. It feels sacred, and there is ritual around the reading. In both tarot and Torah reading, we create a sacred space, look at the same text over and over again in different ways, and draw on our own experience to arrive at new interpretations, applying the meaning to our lives in the here and now.

Without knowing anything about tarot, you can look at the original images created by Pamela Coleman-Smith on the traditional Rider-Waite Tarot deck and see the Jewish significance of the cards. When I saw the holy Tetragrammaton of G-d’s name inscribed on the chest of the angel in Temperance, one of the 22 Major Arcana cards, I felt the Jewish connection immediately. It is also a significant synergy that the scroll in the lap of the High Priestess reads “TORA,” letters which are also found on the Wheel of Fortune but rearranged to read TARO, interwoven with the four Hebrew letters of G-d’s name. In the Minor Arcana, the Ten of Pentacles contains 10 circles with five-pointed stars in the centre, depicted in shape of the 10 sefirot, the sacred geometry also known as the Tree of Life in kabbalah.

My curiosity with tarot began as a teenager. I somehow acquired a small deck but didn’t know how to read it. As an adult, the cards found their way to me again, and perhaps it was not a coincidence that I was gifted with a tarot deck just after I turned 40, the age that Judaism traditionally says we are spiritually mature enough for the mystical teachings of kabbalah.

I learned to read tarot through my own study, using books, podcasts and courses. Even though some talked about the kabbalist correspondences on the cards, I never learned how tarot could be used as a way of connecting with my Jewish spirituality.

Since then, I have been exploring tarot as a tool for Jewish spiritual practice in several ways. I read for myself, I read for others, and I use the cards for Jewish rituals, such as setting intentions when lighting candles for Shabbat.

I read tarot professionally under the name Azra Silverstein, a decision I made out of fear of the stigma associated with tarot. I chose the name because of its connection to my own Hebrew name, but also because of its Jewish feel. It makes a difference knowing when a reader is Jewish, and clients have often sought me out because of this.

I was reading at a spiritual fair once and a young man saw me listed as a Jewish tarot reader. He sat down at my table and asked me, “What makes a tarot reading Jewish?” I gave him the short answer, “You and me!” It’s because of the people who are involved. When you read tarot, you use your intuition, which means using the whole of yourself to glean insight from within and the world around you. So, if you are Jewish, you will read with a Jewish lens. It’s inherent.

The longer answer is, there are many ways to make a reading Jewish. One way is to open with a blessing. When I am reading for a Jewish client who has never had a reading before, I will often recite Shehechiyanu, the traditional blessing for doing something for the first time. In my opening meditation before a tarot reading I sometimes use the word Shechinah, instead of a more secular reference to the universe. I’ve witnessed Jewish clients drop into a sacred vibration when such references are made. I can feel the powerful impact of our ancestry in the reading ritual.

I also have done readings for Jewish people where I weave in Jewish concepts, make connections to Jewish holidays or take into account the broader context surrounding Jews today. Tarot readings can support people navigating antisemitism or conflicts related to being Jewish, and they can also provide guidance for one’s Jewish spiritual development.

If you are curious about how tarot can deepen your own spiritual practice, I invite you to pick up a deck and start reading for yourself. For those who want more formal training, you may be interested in my Jewish tarot course, which teaches how to read the cards using Jewish and secular methods, as well as how to use tarot for Jewish ritual. For Passover, I created a Haggadah (which is available online) that uses tarot to engage with various parts of the seder. For more information, please visit my website, azrasilverstein.com.

Dr. Alycia Fridkin, PhD, is also known as Azra Silverstein, the Jewitch Tarot Reader. Get in touch at azrasilverstein.com or email her at [email protected].

Encouraging young voices

Larry Barzelai addresses those gathered for the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s Public Speaking Contest on March 5. (photo from JFGV)

On March 5, the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s annual Public Speaking Contest took place at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. Students in Grade 4 through Grade 7, from a range of schools, participated.

The contest, which was created more than 35 years ago by Larry Barzelai, with his wife, Rhona Gordon, is jointly presented by Federation, the JCC and Israel Bonds.

“It provides young people with a meaningful platform to express their ideas,” wrote Jewish Federation chief executive officer Ezra Shanken in his weekly email message.

“Their confidence and creativity reflect the strength and promise of the next generation,” noted Shanken, who also spoke at the event.

Federation’s Lissa Weinberger is a key organizer, wrangling both student participants and their parents, as well as volunteer judges and moderators from the community.

Suggested topics ranged from “What is your favourite Jewish holiday and why?” to “From a Jewish perspective, should leaders be held accountable for mistakes they made in the past?” The 10 suggestions included talking about the Jewish values gained from a favourite picture book, the importance of food in Jewish culture, and the ethics of using ChatGPT; the 11th suggestion was a topic of the student’s choosing.

In each category, there were three winners.

In Grade 7, they were Shiran Cohen (1st), Shael Singerman (2nd) and Meah Corea Reyes (3rd).

In Grade 6, Group 1, it was David Herlin (1st), Olivia White (2nd) and Nogah Goldenberg (3rd).

Grade 6, Group 2, saw Liz Sinderman (1st), Gilad Shortt (2nd) and Miriam Gordon (3rd) take home the top prizes.

In Grade 5, it was Ella Zack (1st), Ben Kupfer (2nd) and Josie Prokosh (3rd).

In Grade 4, it was Levi Wenner (1st), Olivia Bregman (2nd) and Amelia Silverman (3rd).

– Courtesy Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver

Drawing on his roots

Multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Ezra Ben-Shalom’s debut solo album, Known and Unknown, was released in 2025. (photo by Michelle Behr)

With his debut solo album, released last year, Kelowna musician Ezra Ben-Shalom shows off his personal side, with a uniquely Jewish touch.

For Ben-Shalom, who reconnected to Jewish ritual practice around five years ago, Known and Unknown – his first solo project – is a deeply personal one. The focus of his music and daily life has become all about asking questions, he said. It’s about finding ways to be of service in the world and creating a connection with something larger than himself.

“I’m doing my best to be of value to the world and to the culture. And, you know, you step in front of a room of people and take a deep breath and open your mouth and sing – I want to offer something that’s real, that’s authentic and that’s meaningful,” the 43-year-old said in a phone interview.

The album is highly Jewish-inspired, owing to his own reconnections – and, he said, he hopes it will encourage empathy among listeners.

“I think the album title was maybe a hint to myself to come from that place of humility, that we don’t have the answers, as much as we think we know or that we learn,” said Ben-Shalom.

The songs on Known and Unknown include some Hebrew words, and the sounds of a shofar on two tracks, though the lyrics are largely in English.

Jewish themes shape much of Ben-Shalom’s interpretation and highly personal expressions; however, he emphasizes that, while his path is Jewish, he sees the disc’s new compositions as something more broadly accessible. The songs, he said, are “about inner experiences and feelings and reflections, and they’re about living in the world as a human being, not as a Jewish human being.”

Themes of transformation, vulnerability and boldness underline the album’s adult alternative and folk-adjacent sounds, and Jewish references abound, with songs titled “Shechina,” “Shake the Dust,” and “El and Gil.”

New name, old passion

Ben-Shalom is the new-ish musical handle of producer and multi-instrumentalist Ezra Cipes, who grew up in Kelowna and has played in bands since he was 14 years old, he told the CJN.

By the time he was 19, Cipes and one of his three brothers co-wrote a song with Indian-born Canadian punk/alternative music icon Bif Naked, who grew up in Winnipeg. He’s also performed regularly and recorded with the Calgary-born indie-pop-folk artists Tegan and Sara. (Bif Naked’s bassist, Chris Carlson, produced, co-wrote and played most of the other instruments on Ben-Shalom’s 2025 album.)

Prior to the new project, another band featuring the musical Cipes family had been nominated in 2022 for a Juno Award in the children’s music category for the second disc by the troupe, called the Oot n’ Oots. The five-piece band comprised Ezra; his three brothers, Matthew, Gabe and Ari; and his daughter, Ruthie, who was the singer.

When that project wound down following the end of 2023 summer festivals, the guitarist and keyboard player turned to exploring a different expressive musical language. He had set out on that musical exploration when the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks by Hamas in Israel, which triggered the Gaza war, refocused his artistic lens.

“Oct. 7 put a lot of things into focus and showed the ways that, really, we’re all lost in one way or another,” he said.

The way the world responded after Oct. 7 was a “frustrating and painful” experience, he said.

“You think, ‘What can any of us do?’ And none of us can fix it – you can’t completely change all these cultural narratives and people’s ideas and correct the record or bring a higher perspective on our own, but we can do our part. We can stand strong in our own truth and share it, proudly and with strength and humility.”

Explaining that he’s always needed “a little spiritual medicine in my life,” Ben-Shalom described reading at night, from literature and philosophy to spiritual and self-help books, and had long realized he needed to do that, even before he connected with Judaism.

Pivotal turn to Judaism

Growing up, while his family – who own a successful organic vineyard – belonged to a local synagogue, they weren’t traditionally observant, though he became bar mitzvah and attended Jewish summer camp.

But, as an adult, he reflected, he was “totally disconnected” when it came to traditional Jewish practice and observance.

It was a moment in 2020, early during the pandemic, following a sweat lodge ceremony led by Ron Hall, a longtime family friend who’s an Indigenous artist and biologist, that brought Ben-Shalom an epiphany.

“It [the sweat lodge] was one of those moments that really flipped a switch in my whole life, and it was just a hinge moment. I thanked him [Hall] for the ceremony, and I shared with him how powerful it was and how meaningful it was, how deep it was,” said Ben-Shalom.

“And I said to him that he’s lucky to have the traditions to draw on to connect with his own soul and with the creator and I said to him: ‘All I have is this shallow materialistic Western culture.’

“And he said, ‘What are you talking about, Ezra? You’re Jewish. You come from an Indigenous people.’”

Nobody had ever said that to him before, Ben-Shalom recalled, and it became a turning point.

“I had grown up thinking it was cool to be Jewish and, like, neat, but also vaguely embarrassing to be Jewish, and it was something I didn’t really like to talk about or get into very much because … I always felt othered,” he said.

The COVID-era wave of social justice movements brought a resurgence of ideas “about decolonization and equality,” he said. “It’s good to support the Indigenous people keeping their culture, keeping their language, keeping their tradition, keeping the oral culture alive.”

He felt a tinge of hypocrisy. “And then I realized I was not honouring my own ancestors and I didn’t know my own language. I didn’t know my own story,” he said.

Ben-Shalom now attends the local Chabad, lays tefillin and wears tzitzit and a kippah.

He described one of the first times he performed the new music at a live show at the Kelowna venue Revelry in 2024.

“I got off stage and my whole body was sore, from holding myself and breathing and keeping myself grounded and keeping myself in a state of service,” he said. (Since then, he’s felt “a little bit more relaxed” performing the new material.)

“The songs are almost like prayers, and you have to kind of get into that place to sing them, where there’s a genuine connection and not just notes and not just words.”

Ben-Shalom hopes to bring the album in a live performance to audiences across Canada, and to ensure that includes Jewish audiences, he told the CJN.

“I’d like to play for all audiences that will have me, but, in particular, I want to go and play for Jewish people,” he said. “I want to share these songs with Jewish people. I want to bring inspiration, pride and honour to our tradition, to Jewish people.”

Jonathan Rothman is a reporter for the CJN based in Toronto. This article was originally published on thecjn.ca and is reprinted with permission.

Panama City welcoming

The ceiling of the Sephardic synagogue Shevet Ahim, which is located in the Bella Vista neighbourhood of Panama City. (photo by Janice Masur)

My solo trip to Panama City this past February had seemed so far away when I organized it, knowing I would require some respite from caregiving. I had a yen to experience the Miraflores and San Pedro shipping locks, but not on a cruise. I had listened to a talk from Qesher, a website about Jewish communities worldwide, highlighting Jewish life in Panama, so I gathered my courage to travel alone and booked my hotel and flights. And then my beloved husband died.

This changed my reason for going and started me thinking, What would I do there by myself? How would I manage to converse in Spanish and make myself understood? Could I give a talk about my Ugandan vanished Jewish community? (See jewishindependent.ca/honouring-community.) Despite my concerns, I made the journey.

photo - Panama City was a great place to travel solo – and as a Jew — Panama City was a great place to travel solo – and as a Jew. *(photo by Janice Masur)*

I had a half-day tour with an excellent Jewish guide, Patricia, to see all four of the Orthodox synagogues, each one more beautiful, all situated within a small area of Panama City.

There were all types of Jews staying in my hotel: a Dutch woman who only recently discovered her Jewish heritage, a fur-hatted Jewish man, and two Jewish Tunisian-born sisters, whose family history included having been ousted from their home in Tunis during the Second World War, their home commandeered to be a Nazi headquarters.

At Kol Shearith Reform synagogue, I struggled with the Spanish and Hebrew prayer book, spellbound by my surroundings. The Sephardic tunes of the prayers made only a handful of them familiar to my ear. The Oneg Shabbat was delicious: fish ceviche and crème caramel, a childhood favourite, as well as several dishes new to me. We stood around the loaded tables and talked.

Jews started arriving in Panama in the 15th century and there are about 17,000 Jews in Panama, with most living in Panama City. Apparently, Panama is a “Jewish bubble,” with basically no antisemitism. I was told that there are many families from Vancouver soon moving there. “Why?” you may ask. Imagine 40 kosher restaurants, two very large kosher stores, apartment buildings housing only Jewish families, a Jewish support system from birth to death, Sephardic Shevet Ahim in the Bella Vista neighbourhood with offshoots in Punta Paitilla, Ashkenazi Beth El Synagogue, two Chabad synagogues, and the oldest synagogue, Kol Shearith.

photo - “The Eternal Flame,” an Oct. 7 memorial at Beth El Synagogue in Panama City. The artists were Ilanit Schwartz and Michael Ostroviack — “The Eternal Flame,” an Oct. 7 memorial at Beth El Synagogue in Panama City. The artists were Ilanit Schwartz and Michael Ostroviack. The sculpture is composed of seven levels, each bearing a word: faith, resilience, hope, unity, perseverance, identity and strength. The flame is a reminder that there will always be light, even in the most difficult times. And, within the flame is the Shema Yisrael prayer. There is also the symbol of the “necklace of liberation,” associated not only with the promise to bring home the hostages, but the struggle for life and freedom for all human beings. *(photo by Janice Masur)*

Geographically, Panama City is situated on a narrow isthmus, making it an elongated city running east-west, mainly facing the Pacific Ocean. It is full of incredibly high and distinctive skyscrapers lining the long promenade.

The Old Town is being gentrified. Hotel La Compañía Casco Antiguo has a Spanish, French and American wing, each built in a different century. A large cathedral faces onto Plaza Herrera, and I saw my first modern-day monk. He was wearing a brown habit and many nuns were spilling out into the sunlit plaza. Brightly painted buildings and small shops catered to the tourists. The imposing Opera House faces the ocean.

I felt quite safe on my own and was touched by how a local family pointed out animals and kept an eye on me as we wandered around Metropolitan Natural Park, where I saw turtles, agoutis and my first ever armadillo.

I took myself to the botanical garden situated about 40 minutes outside the city. Along the route were American army barracks now being repurposed. At the garden, I enjoyed seeing flowers I had never seen before. A large red flower that only grows from a tree trunk; an orange flower whose seed pod is hard and round and slightly bigger than a tennis ball. The garden also showcased two- and three-toed sloths, plus several monkey species. In its far reaches, I saw a lone jaguar, who let out such sad, lonely notes with his rib cage working like an accordion that I could not bear to stay near his cage. I wondered about the information exhorting visitors to take care of the planet and not to shoot wild animals. Jaguars are on the at-risk list because of habitation loss and human interference.

On the spur of the moment, I took a Black African walking tour of the old city. The young guide was very good. Highlights included some colourful historic wall paintings and an old church, which is now a Black African museum. We finished the tour at the San Felipe public market, where I had a large, freshly squeezed and most-welcome passion fruit drink in 32˚ C heat and then crashed on my bed for a nap.

photo - A painted wall in Old Town, depicting Panamanian Black African history — A painted wall in Old Town, depicting Panamanian Black African history. *(photo by Janice Masur)*

The Biomuseo (biodiversity museum), designed by Frank Gehry, is well worth a visit, with a lovely seawall walk and an eco-friendly garden, where I rested and listened to the birds. I also took a private birding tour, which yielded some wonderful sightings. The couple of hours on my own watching close to 100 pelicans circling and diving for fish was spectacular.

And, of course, I took a tour on a small boat that passed through the Miraflores and San Pedro locks. It was fascinating to observe the speed with which large shipping vessels are lowered and raised through the original canal lock gates, which opened in 1914. Tugs and railway engines synchronize the adjustment of a ship in the lock with steel ropes to prevent it from damaging the canal walls – it’s a specialized job, and I was happy to learn there are some women pilots.

I was warmly welcomed in Panama City, and the Jewish hospitality was inclusive and friendly. It was a fun and easy holiday – it has given me the appetite for more solo adventures.

Janice Masur is a Vancouver author and speaker. Her book, Shalom Uganda: A Jewish Community on the Equator, tells her story of growing up in the bygone Ashkenazi Jewish community of Kampala from 1949 to 1961.