Judaism – Page 37

Ketubot have a long history

An illustrated ketubah from Mala, India, 1938. (image from Deborah Rubin Fields)

Mazal tov! So, you or someone you know is getting married. Today, Jewish weddings may be big or small, formal or informal, traditional or not. No matter the style, the ketubah, or Jewish marriage contract, is the common denominator.

The ketubah is a short, but ancient document. In his book The Ketuba: Jewish Marriage Contracts through the Ages, David Davidovitch writes: “It may be assumed that … the ketubah was first introduced at the time of the Babylonian exile.” The ketubah “testifies to the obligations undertaken by the husband towards his wife in their joint life together. The principal function of the ketuba is … to serve as a document that safeguards the position of the woman after she has entered the marital state.”

In a traditional ketubah, the groom obligates himself to pay a base amount, and perhaps additional sums that are then written into the contract. He vows to work, honour, feed and support the bride. In added phrasing, he specifically agrees to provide clothing, food (thus providing food is mentioned twice in a traditional Orthodox ketubah) and conjugal rights. The groom’s spelled-out duties are the key to the contract. The wife’s responsibilities are not spelled out, yet details of her dowry are given.

The ketubah was written in Aramaic, for many years considered the legal language of Jewish texts, records and reports, plus the lingua franca of the Middle East. Even today, many Orthodox couples continue to use the Aramaic version. As a legal document, the ketubah requires witnessing by two individuals.

image - The ketubah of the writer’s maternal grandparents, from Warsaw, Poland, 1913 — The ketubah of the writer’s maternal grandparents, from Warsaw, Poland, 1913. *(image from Deborah Rubin Fields)*

That Jewish couples have used ketubot since ancient times does not mean, however, that all ketubot are the same. They have differed from place to place and from period to period. Probably the most blatant difference in ketubot is that some have been illustrated while some have not. According to Davidovitch, the Italian Jewish community produced the most beautiful documents. In illustrated ketubot, common motifs have included scenes from the Torah, cherubim, flowers, birds (sometimes exotic), fish (as signs of anticipated fertility), candelabra or menorot, gates, arches, columns and even emblems of particular countries. It is hard to say with certainty if, historically, unillustrated ketubot reflected the conservative nature of various Jewish communities or if only the rich could afford artists to decorate the contract.

Sometimes, these dissimilarities appeared within one country. For instance, between the 18th and 20th centuries, the ketubot of the Indian Jewish communities consisted of two distinct sections – the opening formula, or superscription, in the upper register and the contract itself beneath. The superscription was written in square Hebrew characters, whereas the contract itself was penned in a semi-cursive Hebrew script. The superscription began with an invocation to G-d, followed by blessings and good wishes to the newlyweds and ended with biblical verses relating to marriage and fertility. Yet, within various Indian communities, there were differences: for example, while a ketubah from Kolkata (Calcutta) was illustrated, a ketubah from Pune was not.

According to Prof. Shalom Sabar, “printed Jerusalem ketubot made their way to many countries in the east, and indirectly led to the decline of the tradition of written ketubot and hand-made illustrations. The printed ketubah (with or without decorations) slowly took the place of the hand-made ketubah throughout almost the entire Jewish world, and the ancient artistic tradition died…. During the 1970s, the decorated ketubah and motifs connected to Jerusalem [were] revived. In an era where many people were ‘searching for their roots’ and acquired a renewed interest in Jewish art in its various forms, many couples began ordering hand-decorated ketubot for their weddings.” (See the National Library of Israel, web.nli.org.il/sites/NLI/English/collections/jewish-collection/ketubbot/ketexhibit/Pages/Yemen-1925.aspx.)

Today, some couples opt to write their ketubah using egalitarian language. Their vows might reflect their responsibilities to each other, as well as responsibilities to the Jewish people and to the entire world. One example of this is the ketubah devised by Rabbi Prof. Rachel Adler. Her ketubah is called a Lovers’ Covenant. It contains biblical verses about covenant, calling marriage a covenant of distinction. Other couples focus on specific vows to be carried out in their shared life.

Other examples of changing times are ketubot for interfaith couples and for same-sex couples. Regarding same-sex couples, Lynda Fishman of Jessy Judaica Shop reports that “most couples choose a ketubah first and read through the text that is offered by the artist. Most couples prefer the same-sex text, although not all artist[s] offer a same-sex text … most do offer an egalitarian text, which can be gender-neutral.” Fishman always requests the couple “speak to their rabbi/officiant first before ordering. It’s very important for the officiant to approve the text first or to let us know if they would like any changes made.”

Masorti (Conservative) Rabbi Diana Villa and the late Rabbi Monique Susskind Goldberg worked extensively to try and prevent the problem of mesoravot get, Jewish women whose husbands have refused to grant a get, or Jewish writ of divorce; this situation occurs more in Israel than in other Jewish communities. In a detailed paper on the issue, they urged couples to sign a prenuptial agreement.

For those living in Israel, they further recommend using their Agreement for Mutual Respect. “The principle guiding financial agreement is that the husband guarantees at the time of the wedding to pay his wife a large sum of money in the future should she want a divorce and should he refuse to give her a get, even though their life together has ended. The purpose of the agreement is to have the husband give the get quickly in order to be rid of the heavy debt.”(See To Learn and to Teach [2007], the fourth booklet of a series published by the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies).

While prenuptial agreements are less common in the Orthodox world, the Orthodox organization Chupa Pratit requires couples to sign a halachic (according to Jewish law) prenup stipulating financial sanctions if one partner refuses to consent to a divorce, to prevent incidents of “chained” women, or men. (See chuppot.org.il/en.)

The National Library of Israel has an online collection of more than 4,200 ketubot from collections all over the world. Whatever direction you decide to go in when choosing yours, good luck with your preparations. And may your shared life be as hearty and as long-lived as the ketubah itself.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.

When Joseph went missing

A friend recently went through a scary time and, as a result, I did, too. His niece in Minnesota, a young mother, simply disappeared. She went out on a date and didn’t come home. Her mother was with the woman’s children. When she didn’t know what to do, she contacted police, the story was in the media and the important, informal networks of the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) swung into action.

Like many friends, I tried to pass the word along about a woman who was missing. Her family needed her. My friend couldn’t sleep. He worried. I worried. The worst part seemed to be not knowing how to help, what to do and what happened. Things seemed very dangerous.

Some in the Jewish community may say, this isn’t about me. They would be wrong on several levels. First, and most apparent, your prejudice is showing. There are many Jewish community members who have ties to multiple other communities in Canada. Yes, there are indigenous Jews; as well, there are many other cross-cultural, interreligious and inter-ethnic family connections of which you may not be aware.

Second, anyone can be at risk. Missing people and human trafficking are as old as time. When Joseph’s brothers throw him into a pit and then sell him to the Ishmaelites (Genesis 37:28), they’re participating in human trafficking and slavery. They turn Joseph into a missing person. His parents go through the anguish of not knowing what happened to their child. If you’re a parent or, heck, if you’ve ever lost a pet, it’s not hard to imagine this anguish.

Rashi’s commentary says that Joseph was sold several times. According to Midrash Tanhuma, he’s sold from the Ishmaelites to the Midianites and, from there, into Egypt. This description is not unlike what happens now to women captured in wartime. News reports offer similar stories of women enslaved today – by Boko Haram or, to mention refugees closer to home, Yazidi women who were enslaved by ISIS, some of whom have found homes in Canada.

Some believe slavery is a thing of the past, tied to faraway, evil people – like the narratives I’ve heard from Canadians about the American South. People might be evil, but they aren’t far away. This is a modern issue. Once a person is being trafficked, it’s very hard to break free. She’s possibly been forcibly confined, addicted to drugs, beaten and sexually assaulted. She may be hidden, unable to get help, and brainwashed by those who kidnapped her.

There are charities that work against human trafficking, and many nongovernmental organizations do, as well. However, I was recently invited to participate in a raffle. The business offered a prize in exchange for donating to an anti-trafficking organization. I got as far as clicking through to the organization’s donation page before I saw that it did its work through a lens of Christian evangelizing. Here’s what I found: “Agape International Missions has an incredible team of staff members and volunteers who faithfully carry out our mission, day in and day out. At AIM, we believe that Christ through His Church will defeat the evil of sex trafficking, so we invite you, the Church, to join us in this fight!”

Further, if you wanted to work for them, and you’re not Christian? Too bad. Here’s what their job search info looked like: “You should consider pursuing a career with AIM if: You’re a Christian; You agree wholeheartedly with our Statement of Faith. As the foundation for all we do, our Christian faith is a uniting factor among volunteers and staff.”

Essentially, this Christian organization uses an “us” versus them narrative, in which this religiously motivated group is all good. They are out to conquer this evil that happens to faraway (non-Christian) others. Sadly, if you change the religious ideology, I’m not sure Jewish communities are much different in how we portray social action issues.

Kidnapping, human trafficking, using sex as a weapon – many people like to think these terrible things don’t happen to “us.” However, this naïve view harms victims, perpetuating the idea that these things only happen to people far away or long ago, or who somehow did something wrong to deserve it.

Joseph, according to Jewish tradition, was our relative, a part of our family. His brothers kidnapped and sold him. My friend’s niece went missing this winter. This isn’t some ancient or distant problem. Some argue that, if Joseph hadn’t been his father’s favourite, or if he’d behaved better, this wouldn’t have happened to him – this is blaming a victim.

In Joseph’s case, he lived. He was found, and he flourished over time, in Egypt. My friend’s niece came home to her mother and children after a week. It’s still unclear what happened to her. It sounds like something like human trafficking may have taken place. We (helpers outside the family) may never know.

Every time a missing person is found safe, it’s lucky – but it’s not a sure thing. Often, many hundreds of people’s efforts go into finding someone, and keeping others safe.

If you’re sent a missing person’s information, don’t judge whether or not the person is “worthy.” Send it onwards. Just imagine if your relative or friend went missing – wouldn’t you want everyone’s help, without judgment or religious prejudice?

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba 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.

Shluchim gather in N.Y.

The 2019 “class photo” of Chabad shluchim who attended the Kinus Hashluchim in New York. Among the 4,000 Chabad emissaries attending were 14 from British Columbia. (photo from Chabad-Lubavitch)

Fourteen B.C. Chabad emissaries (shluchim), including one from Victoria and one from Nanaimo, recently converged on New York City for the annual five-day International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Emissaries (Kinus Hashluchim), which brings together shluchim from more than 100 countries around the world and other Jewish communal leaders, almost 6,000 people.

The Kinus Hashluchim reflects directly on the influence of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, z”l, leader of the Chabad movement, who, decades ago began sending young Chabad couples to far-flung corners of the world to serve and, in some cases, build Jewish communities. The shluchim, or Rebbe’s Army, now comprises 5,000 Chabad couples worldwide. The newest shluchim just established a Chabad centre in Kigali, Rwanda; one in Myanmar; and one on the Caribbean island of Turks and Caicos.

The November Kinus conference focused on the work that has been accomplished. “It’s an opportunity for shluchim to share the various challenges they encounter and the countless accomplishments they achieve. We get a chance to share ideas, inspiration and guidance not only from the Rebbe’s teachings, but from each other. And these enable us to go home spiritually refreshed and ready to implement new things,” said Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, director of Chabad Richmond. “We definitely gain strength from each other, and our challenge is to celebrate and share Judaism with joy, and to continue optimistically and positively empowering Jews around us.”

During the five-day gathering, the shluchim participated in seminars and workshops on combating antisemitism, inspiring pride in the Jewish people, and much more. They also engaged in study, prayer and celebrations, including a gala dinner. The spiritual high point took place on the Friday, Nov. 22, when shluchim visited the Ohel, the Rebbe’s resting place. Thousands of emissaries waited in line to deliver handwritten notes and prayers to the grave.

“It’s an opportunity for us to rededicate ourselves to the Rebbe’s spiritual and social vision for the world,” said Rabbi Yitzchak Wineberg, director of Chabad Lubavitch of British Columbia. On Shabbat, shluchim and lay leaders spent time learning and praying in Brooklyn’s Crown Heights neighbourhood, which houses the worldwide headquarters of the Chabad Lubavitch movement at 770 Eastern Parkway. They also took part in farbrengens (traditional Chassidic gatherings). On Sunday, the annual “class photo” of more than 4,000 shluchim took place at Chabad headquarters.

photo - Left to right, some of the B.C. rabbis who attended the conference: Rabbi Falik Shtroks (Chabad White Rock/Surrey), Rabbi Chalom Loeub (Chabad UBC), Rabbi Shmulik Yeshayahu (Community Kollel), Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman (Chabad Richmond); Rabbi Meir Kaplan (Chabad of Vancouver Island), Rabbi Bentzion Shemtov (Chabad Nanaimo) and Rabbi Binyomin Bitton (Chabad of Downtown Vancouver) — Left to right, some of the B.C. rabbis who attended the conference: Rabbi Falik Shtroks (Chabad White Rock/Surrey), Rabbi Chalom Loeub (Chabad UBC), Rabbi Shmulik Yeshayahu (Community Kollel), Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman (Chabad Richmond); Rabbi Meir Kaplan (Chabad of Vancouver Island), Rabbi Bentzion Shemtov (Chabad Nanaimo) and Rabbi Binyomin Bitton (Chabad of Downtown Vancouver). *(photo from Chabad-Lubavitch)*

The Sunday evening gala, which Baitelman described as “vibrating with uncontainable energy, renewed enthusiasm and an undeniable sense of mission,” was held at the New Jersey Convention and Exposition Centre. Emcee for the evening was Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky, vice-chair of Merkos L’Inyonei Chinuch, the educational branch of the Chabad movement. He spoke of the challenges Chabad emissaries encounter in their work, and praised them for their enthusiastic and unflagging commitment to making a difference in the world.

The gala’s keynote address was given by U.S. Ambassador to Israel David Friedman. He related that he has been Torah study partners with a Chabad rabbi in Woodmere, N.Y., for more than two decades, and said that helped prepare him for his current role as ambassador to Israel.

Many of the gala’s speakers emphasized how shluchim are deeply connected to Jews in every part of the world, and that each individual Jew is important to them. Rabbi Yitzchak Schochet, a Chabad emissary from Mill Hill Synagogue in London, England, said: “Ask yourself, where would the world be today without the Rebbe’s vision? Who else goes looking for Jews all around the world, in every corner of the world?… What would have become of [Jews] were it not for the unconditional devotion of every shaliach and shalucha?”

The gala wrapped up with the annual “roll call,” at which Kotlarsky read out the names of the countries that have permanent shluchim. The evening ended with dancing and singing. For those who are interested, the banquet was livestreamed by chabad.org at tinyurl.com/twu2x7z.

In addition to Wineberg and Baitelman, the B.C. contingent of shluchim included Rabbi Avraham Feigelstock (Community Kollel), Rabbi Schneur Wineberg (Chabad East Vancouver), Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld (Lubavitch BC), Rabbi Mendy Feigelstock (Kosher Check), Rabbi Levi Varnai (Chabad Richmond), Rabbi Binyomin Gordon (Kosher Check), Rabbi Falik Shtroks (Chabad White Rock/Surrey), Rabbi Chalom Loeub (Chabad UBC), Rabbi Shmulik Yeshayahu (Community Kollel), Rabbi Meir Kaplan (Chabad of Vancouver Island), Rabbi Bentzion Shemtov (Chabad Nanaimo) and Rabbi Binyomin Bitton (Chabad of Downtown Vancouver).

What is the worth of work?

Recently, I’ve had numerous encounters with middle-aged women. This isn’t strange. I’m talking to women who are a lot like me: dealing with school-aged kids, piano lessons, finding childcare, etc. What’s remarkable is that the same conversation pops up – about work.

One friend, an author and artist, said that she does the math every time she’s invited to do a workshop or a special event. Will the cost of travel, supplies and teaching preparation be worth the return? She’s often told, “Well, we can’t afford to pay you to teach” but, when she shows up for the single event she agreed to do for payment, what happens? People surround her, saying, “Well, if we’d only known you were coming, we would have paid for you to do a multi-day workshop!”

Another woman explained that she is only now, after years of staying at home, getting back to very part-time work in her field. Why? The cost of childcare would have canceled out anything she would have earned with part-time work.

Among women who juggle a full-time job with conventional hours, there’s an acknowledgement that it’s extremely hard to manage. In some cases, their partners step up to do the childrearing and run the household. In others, there are moms who are obligated to work full-time, be “on call” as the primary caretaker and either do, or hire someone to do, all the household chores. For many, this works because everyone’s healthy and they have support from extended family. In case of illness or lack of family support? Forget it. Of course, since these women do manage it, anyone who struggles is seen as “not as capable” as a woman who “has it all.”

This is a big topic, and it’s also (surprise!) a Jewish topic. We’ve been wrestling with it forever. In Exodus, the Israelites flee Egypt and slavery. Yet, in Exodus 14:12, the Israelites are afraid and they actually suggest to Moses that it would be better to return to Egypt and slavery (work without being paid) than to die in the wilderness. Lacking faith, they struggle with how they will be fed, and manna appears for them.

The first question is, what is the value of our work? For the Israelites, they were willing to live for nothing more than food and housing, as Egyptian slaves, rather than cope with being tossed out into the unknown. They didn’t value their work, and perhaps didn’t have the confidence that things could be different. Yet, when they take that risk, miraculously, their basic needs are met.

There are no guarantees. We can offer up our work for free – in whatever professional fields we’re qualified to do so – but there’s no surety that, at the end, we’ll have any offer of full-time, paying work. I see women doing this all around me. There’s an expectation that you’ll volunteer to offer your presentation, and you’ll also tack on free teaching, writing, editing, professional-level creative work or even childcare for others’ children. (Yes, I’ve been asked to do all these things for free.)

Here’s the second question. Is the Israelites’ manna in the desert the ancient equivalent of the “guaranteed minimum income” or “basic income” concept? At what point in modern society do we decide that everyone should get enough to eat? When is it acceptable to say, “Everyone should have a warm place to live, no matter what you earn or your special needs or other health challenges”?

In the Talmud, in Berachot 17a, the sages of Yavneh say that we are all G-d’s creatures, those who learn Torah in the city and those who labour in the fields. That both kinds of people rise early. Neither one is superior. Their work has equal merit as long as they “direct his heart towards Heaven.” This includes the idea that the labourer doesn’t presume to do the Torah scholar’s work and the scholar doesn’t presume to do the labourer’s. In this gendered ancient world, this leaves out women. Then Rav Hiyya acknowledges that women are offered “ease and confidence” because they do an enormous amount to sustain Jewish learning through raising their kids Jewishly and supporting their husbands who study Mishnah.

So, even in talmudic times, work was valuable and considered important, no matter what you did. Further, a woman who is doing “traditional” things like taking care of her children’s education or her husband is owed “ease and confidence” for her efforts.

Our work has meaning. It has important economic and social value. However, sometimes, when we compare our resumés, we feel lacking; certainly if we are being asked to do work for free. It turns out that we shouldn’t be expected to work for free, because our work, no matter what it is, is equivalent and necessary.

A more modern reminder: Martin Luther King, Jr., preached that all work is crucial and deserves fair pay. He supported the Memphis Sanitation Workers’ strike. To be healthy, we need trash collection. Garbage collectors matter.

There’s also no such thing as being out of the workforce. That dinner you cooked, the snow shoveled, the cleaning you did to keep someone healthy, the child you kept safe – according to the rabbis, if you do your work with the right intention, it’s all equally important.

I was recently invited by a favourite undergrad professor of mine to submit a short bio for the Cornell University Near Eastern studies department’s alumni page. I read some previous ones – doctors, rabbis, professors and others – and felt out of my league. Then I talked about it with my husband and thought about it. Being asked to share my work experience on that forum means, like the rabbis’ view of work, mine is valuable too – and so is yours.

Mark and Seth Rogen honoured

Left to right: Lauren Miller Rogen, Seth Rogen, Mark Rogen, Sandy Rogen and Danya Rogen at the ceremony in New York City at which Mark and Seth were honoured with the Generation to Generation Activism Award from the Workmen’s Circle. (photo from Mark Rogen)

Vancouver’s Mark and Sandy Rogen have good reason to be proud of their children and the Jewish values with which they raised them. Some of those values were highlighted as 2019 came to a close, when Mark Rogen and his actor, writer and producer son Seth were honoured on Dec. 2 with the Generation to Generation Activism Award from the Workmen’s Circle in New York.

The award recognizes the Rogens’ work promoting Jewish culture and traditions, while also carrying on the traditions of tikkun olam, repairing the world.

“What made it meaningful for us and for everyone who came was that it was an award about values,” Mark Rogen said in an interview with the Jewish Independent after a game of basketball at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. “It wasn’t about someone giving $2 million to get their name on a hospital. It was about recognizing people living in a positive way.”

Rogen said he and Sandy have always preached that value to their kids, along with the idea that they should always strive to “be a blessing.”

“That’s the way Sandy and I tried to raise Danya and Seth – to try to be a blessing and do what you can,” he explained. “Doing something one-to-one is just as good as doing something internationally. It’s where your heart is and I think Sandy and I are very happy to see that’s how Danya and Seth live their lives. That’s the pride.”

Rogen noted that, when his kids were young, they experienced many blessings. In those years, he said, the family had little money and institutions like Vancouver Talmud Torah, the JCC and Camp Miriam treated his children well, and “didn’t charge us a lot. So, Danya and Seth spent their formative years in the Vancouver Jewish community, and their friends today are from those years. Seth met Evan [Goldberg, his writing partner] at the JCC doing karate, and then they did bar mitzvah classes together.”

Knowing that his children are giving back as adults is important, said Rogen, who worked for the Workmen’s Circle for two years when the family temporarily moved to Los Angeles when Seth filmed Freaks and Geeks. Among other things, Seth and wife Lauren Miller Rogen founded Hilarity for Charity, which raises money for Alzheimer’s care, research and support.

That the recent award was a joint honour made it more meaningful to Seth Rogen. “To be honoured in any capacity is rare and lovely for me, but, to be honoured alongside my father was truly special and memorable,” he told the Independent. “My dad has always been dedicated to helping others and spreading goodness wherever he can. He worked for nonprofits most of my childhood and always strived to make the world a better place. He is someone I always go to for advice and his guidance is consistently geared towards not just what’s good for me, but what’s good for everyone.”

As for the Jewishness he often displays on screen, the actor said he rarely separates that part of himself from his work. “Being Jewish is inseparable from my identity in many ways, so it’s something I’ve always thought was good to acknowledge and integrate into my work,” he explained. “I simply am Jewish and I’m proud of myself and what I’ve done with my life.”

Seth Rogen’s biggest Jewish role, however, might be coming in the soon-to-be-released American Pickle, in which he plays a young man who comes to the United States in 1918 from a European shtetl, then gets trapped and preserved in a pickle barrel for 100 years before being united with his grandson in Brooklyn.

Danya Rogen – who is currently on the board of Vancouver Talmud Torah, on the personnel committee for Habonim Dror Camp Miriam and a regular participant on the JCC softball league team her father captains – joined many family members and friends in New York for the ceremony honouring her father and brother. She remembers her parents raising their awareness of important issues at a very young age.

“My parents, and my dad in particular, taught us to stand up for what we believe in and stand up for others who can’t do it for themselves,” she said. “My parents were also incredibly kind and generous, even when we didn’t have so much ourselves. All of those values have stuck with me my whole life. “I hope to live up to being a blessing and can pass those values on to my own children. I suppose the fact that I have become a social worker isn’t that surprising.”

Kyle Berger is Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver sports coordinator, and a freelance writer living in Richmond.

The comfort in imperfection

We’re not perfect. Yes, and you’re saying, so, why is this in the newspaper? I’m writing this over winter break. Like many families, we chose a staycation. We’ve done some walks and games outside, and a lot of time just hibernating, resting and rejuvenating indoors. All the Chanukah treats were investments in this: new toys that our twins could play with for hours, books, warm socks – and a huge gift for all of us: my husband chose to repaint our main bathroom as part of his time off.

I know, you’re still thinking, why is this in the Jewish newspaper?

Well, first, if you’re a Jewish family who celebrates only Chanukah, winter break gets long. It’s a time when the radio and TV are full of someone else’s holiday celebrations. In a cone of silence, my family has always turned inwards, to hang out together. My parents used to joke it was the time of year for wallpapering. (My mom would choose the paper and my dad would hang it and curse about wallpaper!)

Aside from a much-improved colour and some very important anti-moisture paint, the bathroom fix-up also gives us a chance to seek comfort and self-improvement from within, by focusing solely on our household. I think my husband gets a great sense of satisfaction when he finishes a home repair project and feels it is a “job well done.” He dwells endlessly on the parts that aren’t perfect, and what might be better.

This is connected to the Torah portion Vayechi (Genesis 47:28-50:26) for a few reasons. This portion is very much about family, connections, our blessings and our imperfections. Joseph’s father, Jacob, is dying. Jacob’s dying blessings and wishes are both comforting to some and very uncomfortable for others. His need to include Ephraim and Menashe (his grandchildren) and to offer blessings out of birth order strike many as unfair. The rabbis discuss why Jacob crossed his arms and preferred the younger over the older grandchild. One wonders why he includes the children of his favourite child at all.

Yet, if you think back, Jacob has never been particularly even-handed with his kids. This is the dad that made Joseph the multicoloured coat. Joseph is the child of his old age. Jacob is unfair. He plays favourites, and this rubs us wrong as modern parents or family members. Dads shouldn’t play favourites, right?

When you read Jacob’s predictions (or blessings) for each of his children, some of them sound generous, and others are really harsh. It’s hard to imagine how this experience would feel from a modern perspective, it’s so out of whack with how we see modern family relationships. True, his sons have not been consistently upright people. However, at least Jacob mentions them. He doesn’t even acknowledge Dina – his daughter doesn’t exist here.

This story remains something I dwell upon because my twins’ Hebrew names, in part, are Ephraim and Menashe. Their dad’s Hebrew name is Yoseph (Joseph). Their grandfather’s name? Ya’akov (Jacob). You get the picture. Whenever we bless our kids on Friday nights, we say, in Hebrew, “May you be like Ephraim and Menashe.” Then we translate the prayer into English. We say, “May you be like …” and we use their English names. May they be like (true to) themselves.

When we reflect on it, we can see that, even among our patriarchs, like Jacob, we have imperfect role models. Jacob stole his twin brother’s birthright. He wrestled with the Divine. He played favourites with his children in harmful ways. He was by no means a perfect person. In a sense, this is comforting. No matter how crummy our mistakes or imperfect our efforts, we know that many biblical role models also weren’t perfect. Perfection may be overrated.

Our best hope is that we be true to ourselves – continually striving to seek peace and justice and pursue it, in a flawed world. We can commit to doing our best, within our own particular skill sets, to making things better.

As we start a new secular year, 2020, and decade, we have so many opportunities to reflect on what’s not right about the world. Yet, we can also gain comfort from the knowledge that imperfect people (and paint jobs!) can still make a positive difference for a long time to come.

Here’s to a better world in 2020 – imperfections, warts and all.

Judaism’s gifts to world

This winter, the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute six-session course Judaism’s Gifts to the World: How Major Jewish Ideas Evolved into Universal Values comes to three B.C. Chabad centres: Chabad Richmond, Lubavitch BC and Chabad of Nanaimo.

Participants will learn how personal responsibility, the inherent sanctity of human life, universal education, human equality, the dignity of a day of rest, devotion to family, and a sense of purpose have their origins in ancient Judaism. Judaism’s Gifts to the World is designed to appeal to people at all levels of knowledge, including those without any prior experience or background in Jewish learning. This course is open to the public.

“At a moment in which we are witnessing a rise in antisemitism, it is important to explore what has been the true impact of Jews and Judaism on civilization,” said Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, director of Chabad Richmond and the JLI instructor in Richmond. “Understanding Judaism’s historical contribution gives us a deeper appreciation for its continuing relevance and a better understanding of how the moral and ethical institutions we take for granted came into being.”

Baitelman added that Judaism’s Gifts to the World explores the tension between social and individual responsibility, the implications of monotheism, the meaning of social equality, how Sabbath observance has laid the groundwork for the modern weekend, and the underpinnings of our morality.

Rabbi Mordechai Dinerman, director of curriculum at JLI’s New York headquarters, said, “It is widely known that Judaism gifted monotheism to the world, but, for many, that’s where the Jewish contribution ends. Even this contribution is often viewed rather narrowly, as a religious contribution … but, as this course demonstrates, the universal change effected by the Torah is much broader.”

Dr. Darrin M. McMahon, professor of history at Dartmouth College, has praised Judaism’s Gifts to the World. “There can be no doubt that the Jewish contribution to the civilizations of the West and the world is immense,” he said. “At a time when noxious critics would doubt that contribution or deny it altogether, the Jewish Learning Institute has offered a timely reminder of the many gifts the Jewish tradition has bestowed. Judaism’s Gifts to the World … provides a scintillating course in the history of ideas and culture by leading experts from around the globe.”

Judaism’s Gifts to the World starts Wednesday, Jan. 29, 7:30 p.m., at Chabad Richmond ($95, 604-277-6427) and Vancouver Lubavitch Centre ($90, 604-266-1313) and runs for six weeks; and the six Tuesday sessions at Chabad of Nanaimo ($95, 250-797-7877) start Jan. 28, 7 p.m. Register at the local Chabad centres or via myjli.com.

A page of Talmud each day

Jan. 5, 2020, was a momentous day in the Jewish world. It was the start of another cycle of daf yomi. What’s daf yomi? It’s the tradition, about a hundred years old, of studying a page of Talmud a day. It takes more than seven years to read it all. At the end of the cycle, after reading the entire Talmud, there’s a siyum hashas, a celebration of learning. The last one was held Jan. 1, in the MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, to a sold-out crowd.

There are also smaller siyums (celebrations) to commemorate finishing a talmudic tractate. Being invited to a siyum was likely the first time I ever learned about this kind of study. Sure, I learned snippets of Talmud in religious school or when I heard sermons at Temple. When I got to Cornell University as an undergraduate though, I met a small but thriving group of Orthodox Jewish students who lived together while attending school. One of those students had a siyum, and invited other Jewish students. I had no idea what was going on.

I was reminded of this when I read an article by Rabbi David Bashevkin on the JTA website online. It was about what it was like to take a bunch of teenagers, doing a weeklong NCSY Torah learning program (run by the youth movement of the Orthodox Union), to the enormous siyum in MetLife Stadium. He defined the teens as “not attending Jewish day school” and explained that the Yinglish at the event and the Talmud study process were all foreign to these teens, but that they understood the deep meaning of the gathering.

I struggled with the article’s headline – it called the teens “secular.” Any kid who attends a weeklong event run by the Orthodox Union is choosing a Jewish lifestyle, even if it isn’t the same as those who attend Jewish day schools or yeshivot.

Beyond this headline definition of “secular,” I saw the great divide not mentioned. This chasm – of being a liberal Jewish woman – caused me to feel, for years, that I was not capable or worthy of studying Talmud in depth, never mind daf yomi.

I wasn’t taught the skills to study Rabbinic Hebrew or Aramaic in my Reform congregation’s religious school. I learned basic prayers, Hebrew and knowledge of Jewish holidays and customs. When I lived in Israel on a kibbutz for a year in high school, I immersed myself in Modern Hebrew every day – but I never saw anyone studying Talmud!

At Cornell, I took Modern Hebrew classes and one Biblical Hebrew literature course. I met the students who lived in the Cornell Centre for Jewish Living. I got “closer” to knowing Orthodox people than I’d ever experienced growing up in Virginia. When I returned to graduate school in religious studies, I began learning basic talmudic terminology. Slowly, painfully, I made my way through the text with lots of dictionaries and help.

About 20 years ago, you could get a CD-ROM with the whole Talmud on it, and some of it had stilted English translation available, but not all of it. Otherwise, one had to have access to a whole set of Talmud or a good library and be conversant in Rabbinic or Modern Hebrew (Adin Steinsaltz was slowly creating translations of Talmud for those who spoke Modern Hebrew) to make it through the text.

Over the years, I had occasional study partners. We worked our way through a few pages of Talmud. In every situation, my partners were unconventional. They had to be willing to study with a woman, willing to study in a slow mishmash of what we understood in Hebrew/Aramaic and English – and, further, willing to make the modern, 21st-century connections offered by my academic (not yeshivah) training.

This fell by the wayside when I had twins. Study time was nonexistent, although writing this column let me study the Torah portions as they seemed relevant. To learn more about Talmud, I signed up to get Ilana Kurshan’s memoir, If All the Seas Were Ink – it was an adult selection from the kids’ PJ Library book program.

I never finished the book. I felt ashamed instead. Here was Kurshan, an author and translator with several kids, including twins, and she had time to study daf yomi. I ignored the fact that she lived in Israel, where access to both Talmud study and childcare was much easier to find. I reminded myself that everyone is different. Our challenges might not be the same, and I returned to working as a freelancer, looking after twins, and running our household.

Then something miraculous happened. My Jewish Learning, a Jewish online resource, started a new daf yomi program. I signed up for my email a day. A friend of mine, a rabbi who is also a knitter, is chatting with me online about the new cycle of study, as a kind of study partner. And, through the miracle of technology, I have managed – so far – to keep up with my page a day. Through sefaria.org, we now have free access online to both the original and (a mostly decent) English translation of these texts.

It’s early days yet. However, today’s page, Berachot 5a and 5b, touches on twins, health troubles, commitment to learning, and, for me, it’s relatable. Most important, it teaches that, in our rich Jewish tradition, it’s never too late to commit to learning more, no matter when one begins. I started on Jan. 5. It’s never too late to start!

Building of community

Originally, the only focus of Jewish camp was to offer Jewish children an opportunity to spend some time in a woodland environment. (photo from pxfuel.com)

Camping and camps may have been around forever. But Jewish camps, at least those in North America, have a contemporary history.

In 1893, a group called the Jewish Working Girls Vacation Society organized a camp for Jewish children in New York. These women sought to create a place to give their children a break from life in the industrialized city where they worked. The initial focus of Jewish camps was on the children of Eastern European immigrants, and there was a drive to use the camps to Americanize participants. Jews were not the only ones to take an interest in this vehicle for integration. By 1900, there were 100 camps of all kinds and, by 1915, there were more than 1,000.

Originally, the only focus was to offer Jewish children an opportunity to spend some time in a woodland environment, perhaps with access to water. Camps also offered children opportunities to interact with their peers from various backgrounds, without parental oversight, something they might not find in their home environment. Over time, Jewish camp programs expanded to include acculturation into things Jewish, along with athletics, social skills-building, the arts and related activities. Among the Jewish camps, there was the development of those that promoted a particular religious observance, or Zionism, Hebrew usage, socialism and the like. Zionist camps were given a special impetus with the worldwide effort to establish a Jewish state.

What Jewish organizers found over time was that camp experiences were crucial in binding young people to the Jewish community. The relationships forged among young people through camp have played an important role in this area. Anyone who has lived through the camping experience understands the powerful emotional connections this activity can carry with it, particularly when it occurs year after year. Many community leaders believe that sleep-away camps were (and are) an important element in the maintenance of a Jewish identity in the face of all the forces that encourage assimilation into the general population.

The summer camp has become a feature of Jewish life wherever the numbers are available to support this community service. In addition to private ventures, over time, Jewish communities have invested substantial resources into these programs and see them as an important part of Jewish communal activity. Some synagogues have camps as part of their program.

Interest in this aspect of Jewish camp has increased over time. For some parents, Jewish camps are an alternative to expensive primary schooling at Jewish educational institutions.

As a reflection of the growing appreciation of the importance of sleep-away camps in maintaining strong communities, philanthropic groups funded, in 2014, an organization in the United States to assist Jewish camps in carrying out their work. The Foundation for Jewish Camp now works with more than 180 Jewish summer camps, assisting in the training of personnel and providing other services and resources. Among other things, it assists Jewish camps in recruiting professionals, offers grants to first-time campers and helps fund upgrades for camps to accommodate participants with special needs.

An estimate published in January 2019 reported that there were 77,000 attendees at Jewish camps in the United States, and the foundation reports that there are 195 Jewish camps in North America. In Canada, there are Jewish camps in Ontario, British Columbia, Manitoba, Quebec and Nova Scotia.

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

The supporting cast in our lives

Shabbat, Dec. 21
Vayeishev, Genesis 37:1-40:23

I am a rabbi because of a game of catch I played at camp with a rabbi more than three times my age. I found love and happiness and my partner in life because my best friend and my family helped me through a very difficult time. I survived the social pressure cooker of high school because my woodshop teacher took a personal interest in my well-being. I am alive today, I truly believe, because an anonymous man pulled me back from the curb as I was about to step into oncoming traffic in Manchester, England. (I was looking in the wrong direction for British traffic patterns.)

We have all sorts of names for these people in our lives. Some call them guardian angels, some call them heroes, and our tradition calls them shlichim, “messengers” or “emissaries” from God. I call them supporting actors. A rabbi, a friend, family, a teacher and an anonymous man in the movie that is my life: these are the people who have enabled me to play a starring role!

These are the people who, intentionally or not, gave the trajectory of my life a nudge at just the right moment and kept it on track, or steered it in a new and better direction. If awards were given to supporting actors in life as they are to movie actors, then they would each deserve an Oscar for the roles they played and for how their playing of their roles enabled me to play mine.

Who are the supporting actors in your life? Who are the people, past or present, who, at critical crossroads in your life’s journey, gave you directions, held your hand and walked a bit of the way with you? Who are the people who, upon reflection, were it not for them, everything would be different and so much would not have been possible?

Consider for a moment the story of Joseph and his coat of many colours in this week’s Torah portion, Vayeishev.

Here, we meet Joseph, son of Jacob, grandson of Isaac, great-grandson of Abraham, who, by all accounts, is a leading man in the story of the Jewish people. Joseph, in my estimation, is the second most pivotal person in Jewish history. The most pivotal one is a man whose name we don’t know and the Torah doesn’t record, but whose role as a supporting actor in one scene of Joseph’s life changes the arc of Jewish history.

In this week’s portion, Joseph goes out searching for his brothers, who are supposed to be in the field tending the flock. He searches in all the usual places but can’t find them. Along the way, he meets a man whose name we never know: the Torah refers to him simply as ha-ish, “the man” who saw Joseph wandering in the field (Genesis 37:15).

There is an allusion here to the nameless man or angel that Jacob, Joseph’s father, wrestled with in the previous parashah, Vayishlach. We note that, sometimes, when the Torah does not name a character, that character comes to play a pivotal role in the unfolding story. Such is the case in this instance. The man sees that Joseph appears to be lost and approaches him. He asks: “What are you looking for?” Joseph responds, “I’m looking for my brothers. Can you tell me please where they are tending the flock?” (See Genesis 37:15-16.)

The nameless man remembers seeing Joseph’s brothers, he overheard them talking about heading toward a place called Dothan. On the anonymous man’s advice, Joseph seeks his brothers there and finds them. Shockingly, they are not happy to see him. They conspire against him, abuse him, threaten to kill him and, eventually, sell him into slavery to a band of traveling nomads who are headed to Egypt. Through a series of events, Joseph, the boy who looked for his brothers in a field, becomes the chief advisor to Pharaoh and ascends to the second-most powerful position in all of Egypt.

Meanwhile, a famine occurs in the Land of Israel and these same brothers are sent by the leader of the Israelites, their father Jacob, to find food. They travel to Egypt and, this time, it is they who are surprised to find their brother – not only alive, but also in a position to help them. After a series of encounters, Joseph embraces them, asks after his father and makes all the arrangements for the entire nation of Israel to immigrate to Egypt. His position and power save the Jewish people and, for many years, they live well in Egypt and thrive.

Then, a new pharaoh comes to power and forces the Israelites into slavery. A prophet named Moses rises up from among them and, through plagues of frogs, lice, boils and so on; the splitting of the Red Sea; and, ultimately, the giving of the Torah, the people return to the Land of Israel. And that’s pretty much the story of our people.

But what about this nameless man? Who or what was he?

The commentators offer a variety of answers. The 11th-century scholar, Abraham ibn Ezra, reads the text of Genesis 37:15 with a p’shat, a “straightforward” interpretation and concludes this was a passerby. Rashi, on the other hand, delves further and concludes: “This [the man] was the angel Gabriel, as it says (Daniel 10:21), ‘and the man Gabriel.’” (Rashi on Genesis 37:15) Rashi draws inference from the definite article that is used to identify “the” man.

Ramban explains that he was an ordinary man (a passerby), yet he was unwittingly fulfiling God’s design. He was actually “sent” by God to guide Joseph, though he himself was not aware of the significance of his actions. In Hebrew, the word malach means both “angel” and “messenger,” because every malach, human or supernatural, is one of God’s messengers, activated to implement His will on earth. (See Ramban on Genesis 37:15.)

Menachem Mendel Morgensztern of Kotzk, known as the Kotzker Rebbe (1787-1859), goes in a completely different direction: “The angel taught Joseph that, whenever one is straying in the ways of life, when one is downtrodden or downcast, one should speak to oneself and clarify for oneself what one is really asking for, looking for, seeking, and what one really desires, so that one can return and first explain to oneself what one needs.”

The Kotzker Rebbe seems to disagree with Ramban, Rashi and Ibn Ezra, saying, it’s not a passerby, God or an angel that points the way. Rather, he says that the supporting actor in this unfolding mystery is Joseph’s inner voice and that, sometimes, our inner voice can be our own supporting actor.

Whatever or whoever he was, were it not for ha-ish, the man Joseph met along the way, the man who told Joseph where to find his brothers, how different it all could have been.

We never know in the present tense which people or events will be the most instrumental and transformative in our lives but, in hindsight, nothing is clearer. Upon reflection, the pieces of the puzzle and the paths of our lives are perfectly clear, even if they may be filled with uncomfortable observations.

This week’s parashah is a reminder to all of us to recognize the supporting actors who have guided us on our path and pointed us to our direction. It compels us to acknowledge, honour and thank them – even to give them awards – for the important roles that they’ve played, for doing so teaches us something greater still: in recognizing the transformative influence of supporting actors in our lives, we become keenly aware of how important we are in the lives of others. And we come to appreciate the capacity each of us has to help our friends, neighbours, even strangers achieve wholeness in life and find what they are seeking.

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.