Judaism – Page 41

See the light inside everyone

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Elijah the Prophet, or Eliyahu Hanavi. He’s that guy who somehow travels worldwide, to drink all the wine at every Passover seder every year. (What a hangover he must have!) Elijah is also supposed to attend every Jewish boy’s circumcision (brit milah or bris). We sing about him during Havdalah, the short service that separates the Sabbath from the rest of the week. This guy’s all over the place!

Well, he’s both all over the place in Jewish tradition and shrouded in mystery. This is the quirky prophet that never actually died, but instead ascended to heaven. He’s got three separate roles in Jewish tradition.

1) He’s a zealous prophet, reminding people how to behave properly and to remember G-d.

2) He’s known to appear and help those in distress.

3) He’s supposed to announce the coming of the Messiah or the Messianic Age.

(There’s more to Elijah’s roles, depending on what text you study.)

I hadn’t thought much about Elijah as an adult. I’m not big into worrying over the coming of a man on a white donkey (from Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 98a) or the Messianic Age. However, he makes an appearance in ways that capture my kids’ interest. There’s that mysterious cup on the seder plate, and the song that we sing hoping that this week will be the one where Eliyahu Hanavi shows up to bring about the Messiah’s coming. Even if a kid doesn’t attend a bris too often, he might ask questions about Elijah.

There are a lot of stories that retell rabbinic traditions about Elijah. The most powerful are ones I never forgot from childhood, and which may still be helpful today. The stories seem to align directly with those points above, that adults are already supposed to know.

From the Prophets, we know that Elijah reprimanded others, threatened them with scary stories and told them to shape up. It’s essentially “putting the fear of G-d” into them. Apparently, he was good at this role, as he was sent to do it multiple times. In Jewish folklore, Elijah is the stranger who appears and helps the poor and reminds the wealthy of their failings. It’s this combination of the stranger who appears when you least expect it and the coming of the Messianic Age that I think about most often. Why?

I was taught to try to treat everybody with respect and empathy – because that person might be Elijah. That Elijah could appear at any time, looking like an old lady or a child, a homeless person or an older person with dementia. How we treat people indicates how we’re doing on bringing about a better age, or a Messianic one. When this idea was introduced to me, I remember thinking it sounded weird.

As an adult, it makes more sense because, well, life is weird. Life offers us many opportunities to practise conscious kindness, to do mitzvot (commandments) that help make the world a better place. If we keep doing this “fixing the world” (tikkun olam), well, we might just hear from Elijah.

There was that time when we had a stranger knock at our door. My husband answered it and then told me what happened. It was an indigenous man who didn’t look well. He looked like he had been doing some traveling through back lanes, but he came to the door with our dog’s collar in his hand.

I was immediately anxious. Our dogs are never without their collars and ID tags. However, this man came along, saw the collar in the back lane, clearly beyond the fenced yard. He was worried for the dog. The good news? We called her, and our dog was happy and safe inside. She’d somehow managed to shed her collar and leave it in the back lane without anyone noticing. This kind act made me wonder: Was this Elijah, known for his affinity with dogs? In the Sefer HaAggadah, it’s said that, when dogs are happy for no reason, it’s because Elijah is in the neighbourhood.

Sometimes, one of my kids carefully saves the seat beside him at services for what appears to be an imaginary friend. We joke that he knows Elijah is coming. Instead, it ends up being the friend on her own who needs just one spot or maybe even a stranger, who we then get to welcome to synagogue.

It’s the extra granola bar in my “mom bag,” when I thought someone might need a snack – and, indeed, a hungry person turns up. He needs it to continue onwards. Who knows what that person’s potential will be? That stranger gets a granola bar because, well, he might be Elijah.

This is all mystery and whimsy, if you take a purely Western and scientific view of the world. Yet, most of us acknowledge that we can’t explain why we’re lucky or when misfortune befalls us. Is it because of our behaviour or our efforts to do good in the world? Is it because some people “deserve” misfortune? I think not.

There are amazing people, all around us, who have struggled. Some were homeless, were put in foster care as children, or had addictions. Perhaps they suffered through wars or trauma. This childhood lesson about Elijah has stood me in very good stead because, if you remember that every person has value, every soul is important, it doesn’t matter how the person’s body presents itself. Whatever their clothes or hair look like, that person could be Elijah. Better yet, every person is someone important. It’s up to us to see that light inside, the potential waiting there, and to acknowledge the “other,” as Martin Buber would say. Be ready to offer something, with love and hope, when needed. It could be welcoming someone and offering a seat, a kind word, a thank you for returning a lost item, or a granola bar. Anybody can do this. Remember, that person across from you may be Elijah. The rest? It’s up to you.

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. See more about her at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Learning to lead prayer

Rabbi Uri Kroizer from the Ashkenazi track with his students. (photo by Itai Nadav)

Some 50 prayer leaders recently completed the first session of the inaugural Ashira program. The program’s goal is to train prayer leaders (schlichei tzibur) from across Israel to direct creative prayers in one of the following three tracks: Ashkenazi, Sephardi and contemporary liturgy.

This unique program, which is held at the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary in Jerusalem, is a joint initiative of Rabbi Avi Novis Deutsch, dean of the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary, and Yair Kochav, one of the founders of the Tahrir cultural platform. Both are graduates of the New York Federation’s social leadership Cohesion Lab.

At one of the meetings at the Schechter campus in Jerusalem, Novis Deutsch explained, “Musical prayer is at the crux of the soul – it is clear that enabling people to study prayer touches their souls. We can discern true happiness in the classes. As the director of many programs at the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary, I can sincerely say that when you teach Torah you sometimes see happiness, but when you teach prayer you constantly see happiness on the students’ faces.”

The Ashira program is comprised of 15 weekly five-hour meetings, where students study both theoretical and practical aspects of prayers and it is sponsored by donors from Vancouver and various parts of Israel.

From December 2018 to just after Passover 2019, when you walked down the hallways of the building, you would hear different styles of music from the classrooms.

“The students represent a broad variety of Israeli communities – some are studying in rabbinical programs, some are prayer leaders, and all have a love for Jewish liturgical music,” said Novis Deutsch. “The Ashira program furthers social cohesion; it is a collaborative project with the leaders of prayer renewal in Israel. Many of those who participate in the program never thought that they could be prayer leaders. Ashira allows them to imagine this possibility – it reduces their anxiety about leading prayers and gives them a voice.

The program’s premise is that, to find your voice as a prayer leader, you must acquire an in-depth knowledge of the tools, styles and procedures in this field.

“Before we embarked on the program, we assembled 12 leaders in the field of Israeli music and started a process, which gave birth to Ashira,” explained Yair Kochav. Of the three tracks, he said the Ashkenazi and Sephardi work with the existing liturgy, teaching it to the new prayer leaders, while the “contemporary liturgy track fuses the first two tracks with modern Israeli reality.”

photo - Sephardi track director Hacham David Menachem (holding the oud) — Sephardi track director Hacham David Menachem (holding the oud). *(photo by Itai Nadav)*

According to Kochav, each track is divided into three sections: theoretical, musical and practical.

“This gives students a multifaceted experience of the essence of prayer and what motivates people to pray,” said Kochav. “Each identity and motivation must receive its own space. There is a certain apprehension that the traditional liturgy will disappear due to the growth of a popular modern Israeli liturgy. Therefore, students in all three tracks meet to discuss the similarities and differences of each liturgy.”

Rabbi Rani Yager, from the Shalom Hartman Institute, who heads the contemporary liturgy track together with Yair Harel, said, “The most important lesson that I learned in this program is that prayer is a need felt by people in all communities: it is not connected to one’s religious or ethnic background, nor to one’s gender. People are willing to discuss this need, to learn and to share their feelings. Singing together requires courage, and the enormous need for prayer engendered this courage.”

Rabbi Uri Kroizer and Dr. Naomi Cohn Zentner direct the Ashkenazi track and Hacham David Menachem and Drori Yehoshua direct the Sephardi track.

Students study the musical scales of each liturgical style; each student plays an instrument and/or sings during the classes. During the breaks, students meet in the hallway and eat dinner together (organized by different students each week) and discuss current events.

“Those of us in the Ashkenazic track, who come from different backgrounds, meet weekly and make space for the voices that we bring from our homes,” said Shira Levine, who received her master’s from the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies and is now a rabbinical student of the Hartman/Oranim program. “I have learned much from Rabbi Kroizer, who is an expert in Ashkenazic liturgy and a real mensch. I hope to study Sephardic liturgy in the next session.”

Osnat Ben Shoshan Pruz, a participant in the Sephardi track, said, “The program opened a door to a significant and immense world in which I have participated for many years. Ashira provided me with an opportunity to study, in depth, areas that I had not previously had a chance to examine. I have acquired numerous tools and knowledge in liturgy, Talmud and Jewish philosophy.”

“The program changed the manner in which I sing prayers, which goes beyond the pages of the siddur,” said David Arias, a Schechter Rabbinical Seminary student who participates in the contemporary liturgy track.

The next program starts in the fall. For more information, visit schechter.edu/schechter-rabbinical-seminary/about-the-rabbinical-seminary.

Put down “the ducky” in shul

I chatted with a friend recently about what it was like in “the old days” when someone had to take a cellphone call during synagogue. This is when there were only big, clunky cellphones. I remember seeing a doctor on call pacing in the lobby. He – and it was usually a man – looked apologetic as he listened carefully. It was an emergency. It was a doctor who needed to attend to a patient, even though it was Shabbat and he was at services.

Given the circumstances, we recognized it was OK, because it was pikuach nefesh. He was helping save a life and that level of emergency is allowed, no matter how observant you are, on Shabbat. You put a person’s life above everything else.

The media has done many features where they reflect on research that shows how social media and being attached to a cellphone or other device has affected our health. It can keep us from interacting in the real world with other people, from sleeping or focusing properly. Social media increases our anxiety levels and, sometimes, it’s an addiction. Waiting to get that next update, from a friend or a news source, can sometimes seem more important than any actual person or event taking place in the same room.

My kids know the lesson from Sesame Street and the classic song, “Put down the ducky!” Ernie wants to play the saxophone, but Hoots the Owl tells him, “Put down the ducky if you want to play the saxophone!” It’s a lesson that we must break habits – like carrying a cellphone or the rubber ducky – to learn something new, make music and interact with others.

In the Jewish context, I see it everywhere. It’s at services, lectures, at the Passover seder or Shabbat table, at the kids’ events and play dates. It’s so pervasive that those doing it don’t even realize they are blocking out the world to engage with their electronics. It’s like a body part for those folks, while its noise means others can’t concentrate.

I was at a family service on Shabbat when we were interrupted with what sounded like a radio playing. It seemed to drift on and off and it was terribly distracting. Are we hyper-aware of such things? Absolutely. I am always tired and it makes me extra sensitive to noise and stimulation. There are some folks in my family who are also noise-sensitive. Too much noise and chaos often means we just have to leave. It’s too much.

Meanwhile, while the radio-like sound continued to compete with the prayers, adults in the back kept talking over it all. My husband, usually immune, looked bothered. I encouraged him to get up and ask someone to shut it off, since I sat with a kid on my lap. I thought it might be somewhere outside, but I was wrong. It was one of the talking adults, who failed to even notice that her phone was making the noise. Even when it was finally shut off, the adults continued to talk.

The interference was so pervasive and distracting that I couldn’t wait to leave. At Kiddush, at the end of the service, I heard someone say to a kid, “You can go ask the rabbi, he’s not praying now.”

That was it in a nutshell. I found myself wondering what the heck we were doing there. Are you coming to synagogue to play live-streaming radio and talk loudly? If you aren’t praying, or even sitting quietly, as a role model for kids, why bother coming to disrupt everyone else?

Some might say this is just an isolated incident, but it’s pervasive. On Yom Kippur, there was a grandfather who thought it was OK to hop up and snap photos with his phone during the service.

As I looked at the Torah portion, Behukotai, Leviticus 26:3-27:34, for the first week of June this year, I remembered this experience. It’s a portion that emphasizes all the amazing things offered by the Divine Presence “if you follow my laws and observe my commandments.” It’s a carrot-and-stick story, it clearly states the bad things that will happen to those who don’t follow the rules.

Our understanding of the laws and commandments may have changed, but social norms still exist. We live in a society with clear tension between individuality and the common good. If you judge someone else’s behaviour, you can be told that judgment is inappropriate – even when the individual isn’t behaving in a considerate or safe way for the community. If you feel uncomfortable with someone’s behaviour, we’re taught “we can only control ourselves and our response to it.”

You may not want to stop social media use on Shabbat or want to pray at services, and that’s your choice. However, it’s probably not your place to keep others distracted with your phone so they cannot concentrate on prayer. If you’re set on having it your way, and don’t want to think about others, why join a community Jewish event to do it? Stay home to use your cellphone instead.

Winnipeg prides itself on being a friendly place, and inspired other places to adopt a United Way campaign day of “conscious kindness.” It might be time to live the slogan and think of others – if you can’t put down the phone for your own sake, please do it for ours.

Why dairy on Shavuot? Oh, and cheescake recipes

On the second day of Passover, we begin to count the omer (sheaves of a harvested crop). The counting concludes seven weeks later, with Shavuot (the Feast of Weeks), which has different names, but is associated with one type of food: dairy products. Hence, my sharing a few cheesecake recipes.

Song of Songs Chapter 4 reads, “honey and milk are under thy tongue,” a reference to the Torah being as nourishing as milk and as sweet as honey. Thus, on the holiday celebrating the giving of the Torah, it became traditional to eat foods with milk and honey.

Interpreters of the Tanach liked to use gematria (Jewish system of assigning numerical values to words and phrases, based on their letters). For example, Psalm 68 is read on Shavuot and, in verse 16, it reads: “A mount of G-d is the mountain of Bashan.” The Hebrew for peaks is gavnuneem, which sounds like gveeneh (cheese). One could interpret this to mean that, on Shavuot, we should eat mountains of cheese.

Another example: the values of the Hebrew letters in chalav (milk) sum to 40. Moses spent 40 days on Mount Sinai, so we eat foods with milk.

As well, there is a legend that says, until Moses descended with the Torah, kashrut was unknown so, rather than prepare the meat as per the new rules, the people ate dairy. Pragmatically, since Shavuot is a summer festival and Israel is hot, it was logical to eat light, dairy foods. Also, sheep give birth around this time, so milk and cheese are plentiful.

In the Shulchan Aruch (code of Jewish law), Rabbi Moses Isserles wrote: “It is a universal custom to eat dairy food on the first day of Shavuot.”

CRUSTLESS CHEESECAKE

1 cup cream cheese
1 1/2 cups creamed cottage cheese
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sour cream

Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray vegetable shortening in a nine-inch round cake pan.
Mix together cream cheese, creamed cottage cheese, sugar, eggs and vanilla. Pour into pan.
Bake 35-40 minutes or until centre firm.
Remove from oven and spread with sour cream while cake is hot. Cool then refrigerate.

BLENDER CHEESECAKE

crust:
15 graham crackers
1 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup melted margarine or 3 tbsp vegetable oil

filling:
1 envelope unflavoured gelatin
1 tbsp lemon juice
grated peel of 1 lemon
1/2 cup hot water or milk
1/3 cup sugar
2 egg yolks
1 package cream cheese
1 heaping cup crushed ice
1 cup sour cream

Break five crackers into quarters, blend to crumbs. Empty into bowl. Repeat twice more.
Stir in sugar and cinnamon. Add melted margarine or oil and mix until crumbs are moist. Grease a spring form pan. Press crust against sides and chill.
Mix in blender gelatin, lemon juice, lemon peel, hot water or milk 40 seconds.
Add sugar, egg yolks and cream cheese and blend 10 seconds. Add ice and sour cream and blend 15 seconds.
Pour onto crumb crust and chill.

MY MOM’S (Z”L) SCRUMPTIOUS CHEESE CAKE

crust:
2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/2 cup butter or margarine or 1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp oil
1/4 cup sugar
dash cinnamon

filling:
1 1/2 cups cream cheese
2 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla

topping:
2 cups sour cream
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Combine crushed crackers, butter, margarine or oil, sugar and cinnamon and press into spring form pan.
Bake 10 minutes.
Combine the filling’s cream cheese, eggs, sugar and vanilla with a mixer until fluffy. Pour into crust and bake 30 minutes.
Beat topping’s sour cream, sugar and vanilla. When cake is done, remove from oven and spread topping on it. Return to oven and bake 10 minutes.
Serve with cherries, crushed pineapple or strawberries on top.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.

Staying calm amid bad news

Worn out by recent events? Me, too. For most of my work, I write things in advance to meet a deadline, but I can’t predict the future. Like Jewish balabustas (Yiddish for a woman who manages her household) throughout time, one way I cope is through working harder – by multitasking and planning ahead. I bake challah and meals in batches and freeze the extra. Why? So I can also work, take kids to medical appointments or even stop everything so I can sit down to help with math homework in those crucial moments before dinner.

Yet, we have a hard time calmly planning ahead when things feel out of control. Rising antisemitism, murders and crimes in the world affect us, as do natural disasters both locally and farther afield. These experiences can cause us to feel a sense of “trauma fatigue.” This can also be called “compassion fatigue,” and some say it particularly affects those in helping professions, like first responders, mental health and medical professionals, and social workers. However, it’s not limited to those people. Even bystanders to an event, who perhaps see footage on social media, on TV or in the newspaper, can be affected. Kids can be affected, too. We’re not immune to what this experience does.

Many react with a sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome. There may be an increased sense of panic or “fight or flight” feelings of adrenalin. Some people cannot sleep, or sleep too much. They have flashbacks to bad incidents that occurred, as well as physical symptoms. They may feel disassociated from themselves or others, and may feel less compassion for others in general. There are lots of symptoms associated with this. I’m not an expert.

However, I realized one morning as I walked my dogs that I felt weary and emotionally drained. It’s awful to hear about shootings of people at prayer, hate crimes and massive natural disasters like flooding. There are only so many times you can feel heartsick about these types of events before it takes a toll.

A recent New York Times editorial was an apology for an antisemitic cartoon that they printed. The editors acknowledged the creep of numbness and a lack of judgment when it printed this cartoon and when it came to recent anti-Jewish incidents. This numbness mirrored the New York Times’ and other newspapers’ historic failure to address the widespread rise in antisemitism in the 1930s and 1940s. The current editors pointed out the danger in this, apologized for one editor’s poor choices and the paper’s lack of oversight.

We’re all coping with a sort of numbness when it comes to the news cycles and increasingly frequent events. It’s hard to respond with equal amounts of compassion after every shooting or traumatic world disaster. What can we do to relieve this?

The following list is partial and includes both Jewish and general responses to stress.

Shut off social media. Whether you’re Sabbath observant or not, find ways to silence your phone, newsfeed or other notifications for a few hours or days. Shut off the noise on occasion and step away from the news and alerts. It will calm your fight or flight instinct.
Get outside. Take the ear buds out. Take a walk or run. Bring the dog, family, a friend or just your thoughts. Listen to the birds, squirrels, wind or the traffic. Give yourself a chance to exercise, be out in nature and smile at neighbours. See the world at a slower pace.
Read a book. Escape fiction is not just for the beach. Find something engrossing to read and lose yourself in it for awhile. If fiction isn’t your thing, learn something new with non-fiction. Study Jewish texts, geography, geology or whatever interests you. Give yourself time for your mind to do something other than freak out.
Practise deeds of loving kindness. Try every day to do something for others. It can be a thank you note, helping a friend or holding a door open for a stranger. Donate money or food to the food bank, volunteer or simply help clean up at home, work or synagogue. This is a Jewish way of keeping the world afloat.
Prayer and meditation can help us remain calm and boost our health. Everyone differs on this topic. Some religious people feel prayer “protects” the faithful. Others are skeptical but hedge their bets. Even atheists can be aided with repetitive words or activities that help tune into this part of the brain. However you see this, it’s hard to refute the scientific evidence that being part of a religious community or meditating on your own can make a substantial difference to our health and well-being.
Speak out. We can’t control much – not natural disasters or the actions of others. We can, however, work for what’s right. Judaism has a long history of social activism. While we may disagree in our opinions, we can still choose to advocate for what we believe. We feel less helpless when we talk with others who share our views and try to make positive change.
Seek out support. It’s natural to feel anxious. This is a good time to seek out others at your congregation, community centre, workplace or school and talk about how you’ve been feeling. Talk to a therapist or a rabbi. Find time for friends, family and community members who care about you.

These are only some things that might help. It’s just a start, but, as the rabbis say, “The world stands on three things: Torah, prayer/service and deeds of loving kindness.” It’s true that life isn’t boring these days, but I’m wishing for a bit of boring. Here’s to enjoying some safe, quiet and calm, and peaceful, warm days ahead. Be well.

Goats out in the wilderness

Let’s talk about goats. When I was doing research for my book Fiber Gathering, about U.S. fibre festivals, which attract thousands of people, I learned lots about goats. But what do goats, which produce milk, fibre and meat, have to do with Judaism?

In Leviticus, we read precise descriptions of the high priests’ clothing. One may scoff about the details, but I bet you’re wearing clothes. In many Torah portions, Jews think a lot about textiles. (If you don’t, you should! You’d be cold without clothes.)

We read rigid rules for sacrifice, how we should eat and how we should behave in terms of intimacy towards our partners and family. This is also the text that includes the most discriminatory and misunderstood interpretations of homosexuality.

Like any good Jewish parent, the Almighty offers us strict guidelines in Leviticus. There are things we should and shouldn’t do. However, there’s also an acknowledgement of our humanity. We make mistakes. There are times when we won’t understand how to behave, so here, too, is a Temple sacrifice procedure. This forgiveness process turns into part of our modern Yom Kippur service. We learn how Aaron makes a sacrifice to atone for the “strange fire” that his sons, Nadav and Abihu, brought to G-d and how they were killed for it. Part of Aaron’s prescribed ritual includes sending a goat named Azazel out into the wilderness. The goat carries away the people’s sins, and it lives.

My husband, a biologist, struggled a bit with this but felt comforted that, of all the domesticated animals to be cast out, goats could survive in the wilderness. I remembered the goat cheese we ate at the Taos Fibre Festival in New Mexico. We met the farmer who raised the goats and made cheese. He told us how he lived off the grid. He had to drive hours on a dirt road just to get to his mailbox, and several hours farther to get to town.

Every day, his goats are sent out into the desert to forage along with their guard dogs. Some shepherds keep dogs, others use donkeys or llamas to protect their flocks. This man described how his goats were free range and how they returned each night. He milked these goats and his cheese varied according to where they had grazed and the season. It was truly “wild” cheese – and most of his goats did fine, despite the desert predators.

While we try to follow rules, we are also aware that things change in our world. Like the goats, we are susceptible to danger. A recent JTA article (Jewish Telegraphic Agency) pointed out ways that congregations are preparing for “the next Pittsburgh” by changing the ways congregations protect themselves. The first 911 call in Pittsburgh came from the Sabbath-observant rabbi, who was persuaded the year before to carry a cellphone for emergency use. In the Poway shooting, Steve Vaus, Poway’s mayor, indicated that congregants acted quickly, using training they had received right after the murders in Pittsburgh.

A few years ago, I heard an upsetting story about our responses to potential danger. One day, a religious man was praying when the congregation’s alarm went off. He was concentrating. Although he knew how to shut off the alarm, he didn’t stop praying to silence it. A woman who worked at the shul lived nearby, heard the alarm and came running to help. Perhaps she wasn’t perfectly dressed (according to her community’s standard). She wasn’t calm – but she took her responsibilities seriously and rushed towards the emergency to help. Later, the praying man belittled the woman for being flustered and for not dressing properly. He didn’t acknowledge her speed and bravery. When she ran, she didn’t know it was a false alarm. She made herself vulnerable for the sake of her community.

I didn’t witness that “false” alarm, nor was I there when people acted bravely during the Pittsburgh or the Poway tragedies. However, we must read these situations critically, in the same way we read Leviticus. We continue to face conflicts and emergencies. Along with the rigid everyday humdrum, there’s a vulnerability that we face in the wilderness (the world).

Some feel Leviticus’s rigidity can make us wary of making mistakes or of finding solace in religion. Others suggest these rules create life’s order. We are all different. Yet, we must all cope with changes, surprises and danger. We might get cold in our environment and need to know what to wear. We might be surprised or do the wrong thing in the midst of prayer. We face danger. We are truly vulnerable out there in the world and before G-d, just like the goats.

Parents, like goatherds, have to trust that, after we offer our kids structure and skills, they will make it out there and come home again. We have to hope that our children and congregations will be sturdy and flexible enough when danger arises.

In Leviticus, the goat, Azazel, bore our sins and was alive and at risk. In a sense, we are those goats. We seek divine rules and structure, while at the same time coping with a world that requires us to think critically, adapt and be ready for whatever may happen next. It’s a wilderness out there. We must think on our feet.

I applaud those leaders who run towards the danger as Lori Gilbert Kaye, z’l, did, risking everything, and who follow the spirit rather than the letter of the law. Pittsburgh’s Rabbi Jeffrey Myers saved lives because he made an emergency cellphone call. Our religious traditions evolve. We no longer make sacrifices at the Temple. It’s important to reconsider our habits at many other occasions other than just Yom Kippur.

I’ve been belittled sometimes because I write about knitting. Yet, we wear clothes. According to Leviticus, that’s important. Also important? Being vulnerable to both the Divine, and to change. I keep that goat-in-the-wilderness image alive. We can meet these real-life challenges if we open up our minds to what’s really out there, bring a guard dog and avoid embracing rigid biases.

Silber honoured by Shalhevet

Left to right are gala honouree Anita Silber, Shalhevet Girls High School head of school Meira Federgrun and Shalhevet board president Vivian Claman. (Jocelyne Hallé Photography)

On April 7, Shalhevet Girls High School honoured Anita Silber with the Guardian of the Flame Award.

Vivian Claman, president of the Shalhevet board of directors, described Silber as someone “whose default is set to ‘giving.’”

“Anita leads by example, showing what it means to be charitable,” Claman told the Independent. “She is a woman devoted to her community and to her family.”

Having learned the importance of philanthropy from her father at a young age, Silber said, “It left a deep impression on me.”

When asked what she values most, she said, “Jewish education and philanthropy.” And, as a former educator herself, she said she recognizes the excellent quality of education the girls receive at Shalhevet.

“The amount of attention the students get and the mentoring they receive from their principal and teachers will serve them well in the future,” said Silber, who has followed some of the Shalhevet graduates and their careers and community involvement. “It’s so important to have options like Shalhevet Girls High School in order for our [Jewish] community to flourish and remain sustainable,” she said.

Silber’s background includes a variety of careers and leadership roles: elementary school teacher; marriage, family and child therapist; clinical art therapist; member of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver Israel overseas allocations committee; and member of the Vancouver Jewish Community Foundation board of governors, to name just a few.

In the 1990s, Silber led support groups for people with HIV/AIDS and other life-threatening illnesses. She also led children-of-divorce groups at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver for Jewish Family Services. With the Silber Family Foundation, she helped establish an art therapy program at Ronald McDonald House.

Silber’s passion for Israel began just a few weeks after the Six Day War, in 1967, when she visited Israel for the first time, at age 22. While there, she volunteered at a hospital and fell in love with the country. Fast forward several decades and Silber, along with her husband Arnold, support numerous projects in Israel’s Upper Galilee, particularly the Friends of Beit Vancouver fundraising initiative in Kiryat Shmona.

“Beit Vancouver, which opened in 2006, is an amazing centre for at-risk kids and teens from the periphery, who go there after school for all kinds of programs, including educational and music programs, computer training and more,” explained Silber. “The centre also serves kids with disabilities, and offers family counseling and therapy.”

With her high regard for Jewish education, Silber was a fitting choice for Shalhevet’s Guardian of the Flame Award. The school, in existence for 13 years, was originally an extension of Vancouver Hebrew Academy, and then struck out on its own as Shalhevet in 2007. It is the only Orthodox girls high school in Vancouver.

According to Meira Federgrun, head of school, fundamental to the Shalhevet philosophy is “empathy and chesed – feeling for others, and seeking to understand them and their needs.”

Federgrun said Shalhevet’s teachers “instil in our students a passion for leadership, inspiring them to step up and take responsibility. Students are involved in planning and running school programs, Shabbatons, and extracurricular activities.” The teachers have created a real sense of community for the girls, both in and out of school, she said.

According to Claman, “When the girls are all together, they’re like a gigantic family.”

Shalhevet’s enrolment is not large – only 14 girls in grades 8 through 12 this year – yet they offer a full dual curriculum of Judaics and secular studies. Federgrun said it’s a small school, “but we pack a big punch.” The teacher-student ratio and small class size (one to four students) allow for personalized attention and learning.

Shalhevet has also offered some AP (advanced placement) and online classes.

“We definitely cater the curriculum to what the girls want to do. If we have a girl who wants a specific course, we’ll make sure to offer it for her,” said Federgrun. “We’ll also help out any special needs students by collaborating with the family, staff and any service providers to create an IEP (individualized education plan) for each student. That IEP guides our teaching and goal-setting for that student, and it’s reviewed often and adjusted as needed.”

Shalhevet offers a variety of extracurricular programming, including a basketball team, an annual play produced by the girls, holiday events and a student committee. Shalhevet accepts girls from a range of Orthodox Jewish backgrounds, complemented by a staff of teachers that includes secular educators.

Shalhevet graduates have gone on to study at top-notch universities, securing careers in areas such as medicine, speech language pathology, social work and law. Many Shalhevet graduates also have gone on to study in seminary.

“We teach our girls to look beyond themselves and to see others for who they really are on the inside, without fear, and with open hearts. This commitment extends beyond the walls of the classroom and the school. Shalhevet is known for our students’ commitment to volunteering and helping in the community,” said Federgrun in her gala speech. “The students volunteer, tutoring secular Jewish public school students in Hebrew reading, Jewish holidays and Torah knowledge once a week, which is a powerful way for the girls to play a role in the broader, non-religious community. The girls also volunteer at the Louis Brier Home, spending time with seniors, visiting the sick in hospital, and more.”

Shalhevet girls learn solid Torah values, continued Federgrun. “Our Judaics teachers are inspiring role models of devotion to Yiddishkeit, and they engage our students’ minds, hearts and souls through Torah study,” she said.

Claman emphasized that Shalhevet is important for the community, providing religious Jews a place to send their daughters for an Orthodox Jewish education that incorporates a secular education. “There was a big gap in the community because there was no Orthodox girls high school until Shalhevet,” said Claman. With concerns about the Pacific Torah Institute boys high school closing, Shalhevet wants the community to know that they are a strong, thriving school.

Asked what she is most proud of about Shalhevet, Federgrun said, “The warm environment, the girls giving back to our community, strong academics, and the students learning leadership skills.”

She added that many of their students go on to accomplish tremendous things. “We believe in offering a well-rounded education,” she said. “It’s very important to send girls out into the world today, and they need to be prepared.”

Claman said she’s most proud of what the girls do for the community.

More than 200 people attended the soldout Shalhevet gala honouring Silber, which was held at Schara Tzedeck and included entertainment by comedian Ashley Baker. Most of the money raised will go towards student scholarships.

Shelley Civkin is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review, and currently writes a bi-weekly column about retirement for the Richmond News.

Celebrating our history

An April 15 press tour took journalists to the Israeli side of the Jordan River. Joshua and the Israelites made their crossing here. (photo by Gil Zohar)

Seventeen bulletproof buses of pilgrims, plus one carrying journalists, spilled their contents April 15 at Qasr al-Yahud (Arabic for the Jews’ Castle) on the muddy banks of the not-so-mighty Jordan River, 10 kilometres east of Jericho. The buses were provided by the Government Press Office in Jerusalem.

The holy site is also called the Land of Monasteries because of the seven Catholic, Greek Orthodox and Ethiopian churches there. Until 2011, it was a fenced-off, closed military zone ringed by minefields. Qasr al-Yahud is revered by Christians as the place where John the Baptist immersed his second cousin, Jesus of Nazareth.

For Jews, the shrine marks where, on Nissan 10, circa 1290 BCE, Joshua bin Nun led the Children of Israel to ford the Jordan River and begin their conquest of the Promised Land. But, with the cold peace prevailing between Israel and Jordan, soldiers of the Hashemite Kingdom’s Arab Legion warily monitored the crowds, making sure that no brave souls crossed to the polluted stream’s east bank to reenact Joshua’s miraculous crossing on dry land.

As Joshua and the 12 tribes approached the river, they were met by the kohanim (priests) carrying the Ark of the Covenant. The Jordan then miraculously split for them – perhaps caused by a landslide in the earthquake-prone region that temporarily blocked the river’s flow – allowing them to cross. After fording the Jordan, Joshua erected 12 stones taken from the river at Gilgal, whose location today is disputed by historians and archeologists.

Symbolizing that the process of the Israelites conquering the Promised Land some 3,289 years ago is still underway, Palestinian teenagers in Jericho pelted the armoured bus in which the journalists were riding, smashing one of the shatterproof windows. No one was injured in the attack.

For this writer, the explosive sound of the thump of the rock on glass brought to mind Joshua’s advice when the Israelites marched on ancient Jericho to begin their conquest: “Be strong and of good courage.” (Joshua 1:9)

Qasr al-Yahud is a corruption of “the Jews’ break,” traditionally the place where the Israelites crossed over, that is, “broke” the Jordan River after their 40 years of wandering in the Sinai Desert: “When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth, shall rest in the waters of the Jordan, that the waters of the Jordan shall be cut off, even the waters that come down from above, and they shall stand in one heap.” (Joshua 3:13)

It was here, too, that Elijah the Prophet ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot after he and Elisha crossed the Jordan: “And Elijah took his mantle, and wrapped it together, and smote the waters; and they were divided hither and thither, so that they two went over on dry ground.” (2 Kings 2:8)

The strategic and diplomatic significance of the Jordan Valley were spoken about by retired Israel Defence Force (IDF) deputy chief-of-staff major general Uzi Dayan, who was elected to Israel’s Knesset (parliament) in the country’s April 9 general election.

Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, the chief rabbi of Tel Aviv, and previously Ashkenazi chief rabbi of Israel, spoke of the Land of Israel’s long centuries of foreign occupation, from the Romans to the British.

From 1948 until 1967, Qasr al-Yahud was under Jordanian control, and was a popular destination for tourists and pilgrims. In 1968, following the Six Day War, access to the site was prohibited by the IDF because of its location beyond the border fence in a closed military zone. In recent years, the Israeli Civil Administration – with the assistance of the tourism and regional development ministries – carried out infrastructure and development work at the site, including the clearing of mines. In 2011, the site was opened to visitors on a permanent basis without the need for prior security coordination.

Entering ancient Jericho, with its 8,000-year-old remains at Tel as-Sultan and two Byzantine-era synagogues, is another matter. Large signs at the entrance to the city proclaim in Hebrew and English that entry is prohibited to Israelis. In honour of the Nissan 10 celebration, however, Israelis were allowed to enter the city in Area A, the Palestinian self-rule section of the West Bank, which is off limits the rest of year.

And what of the minefields? One million square metres of land are currently being cleared of approximately 3,000 anti-personnel mines, antitank mines and other unexploded ordinance. The project is being carried out by Israel’s National Mine Action Authority under the direction of the Defence Ministry, together with HALO Trust, an international mine-clearance charity.

Gil Zohar is a journalist based in Jerusalem.

[For more on this press trip to the Jordan River and Jericho, see “Traveling into our past.”]

Traveling into our past

Christians preparing to be baptized in the Jordan River. (photo by Barry Kaplan)

A few days prior to Passover, the Israeli Government Press Office organized a special field trip to the Jordan River and Jericho. The bus with 40 journalists left the GPO office parking lot at 8:30 a.m. and traveled on Highway #1 to the southern part of the Jordan Valley with a guide. We passed Maale Adumim, now a city with 45,000 residents, and headed through the desert area.

We began the ascent to Jericho, passing the Inn of the Good Samaritan, the sea-level sign and the barren hills. A strip of restaurants and souvenir places seemed to appear out of nowhere. We heard about the history of Kibbutz Bet Arevo, situated in this area from 1939 to 1948, passed a veritable forest of palm trees and, by 9:20 a.m., we were at Qasr al-Yahud, where John the Baptist is said to have baptized Jesus. After it passed through the security fence, the bus parked and we walked down to the Jordan River.

Until 1967, this site was under Jordanian control and, in 1968, access was prohibited. In recent years, the tourism and regional development ministries have carried out various projects, including the clearing of mines, and, in 2011, the site was opened to visitors. The site and facilities are overseen by the Israeli Civil Administration and the Israeli Ministry of Tourism as part of a national park.

Running down the middle of the Jordan River is a metal divider. On the other side of it is Jordan. There were people standing around the river and, behind them, churches were visible on the Jordanian side. On the Israeli side, down more steps, people were wearing white cover-ups and going into the river, presumably to be baptized.

photo - Writer Sybil Kaplan with friend Walter Bingham, who, in his 90s, is the oldest working journalist in Israel — Writer Sybil Kaplan with friend Walter Bingham, who, in his 90s, is the oldest working journalist in Israel. *(photo by Barry Kaplan)*

In addition to its significance to Christians, two Jewish events took place at this spot.

In the Book of Joshua, we read how the Israelites, after 40 years of wandering in the desert, led by Joshua, crossed the Jordan River as the river became a stream. Supposedly this happened on the 10th of Nissan, this year April 15. Our guide says this could have taken place 4,440 years ago.

The passage in the Book of Joshua reads: “When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth, shall rest in the waters of the Jordan, that the waters of the Jordan shall be cut off, even the waters that come down from above, and they shall stand in one heap.” (Joshua 3:13)

At this point in our trip, we were joined by Uzi Dayan, former major general, national security adviser and Israel Defence Forces deputy chief of staff. According to Dayan, this passage from Joshua describes “the first aliyah to Israel.”

Another biblical text (2 Kings 2:1-2) says Elijah struck the Jordan River water with his cloak. The water parted so that he and Elisha could cross. After Elijah ascended, Elisha again parted the waters with Elijah’s cloak so he could return to Israel. This occurred before Elijah ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot.

Dayan noted that, on the day of our visit, there would be 17 other busloads of people coming to commemorate what has happened here, and that a ceremony would be held that afternoon. We would return for it, but not stay (as I will explain later).

* * *

At 11:10 a.m., we reboarded the bus and became part of a convoy, with IDF soldiers and jeeps leading us and several soldiers inside each bus. On one side of the road are mine fields, still being cleared.

Our next stop was the sixth- or seventh-century CE Shalom Al Yisrael Synagogue. Down some steps, we walked around the 10-by-13-metre mosaic floor that featured a menorah in its centre. It was identified as being the floor of a synagogue because of the images of the menorah, as well as an ark, shofar and lulav. The name stems from a mosaic inscription with the Hebrew words Shalom Al Yisrael.

photo - Shalom Al Yisrael Synagogue mosaic in Jericho — Shalom Al Yisrael Synagogue mosaic in Jericho. *(photo by Barry Kaplan)*

The synagogue was probably used for hundreds of years, but then the Jericho Jewish community dissipated, and the synagogue was forgotten. It was revealed in excavations conducted in 1936 by Dimitri Baramki of the department of antiquities under the British Mandate.

After the 1967 Six Day War, the site came under Israeli military control and remained under the administrative responsibility of the Arab owners – the Shahwan family, who had built a house over the mosaic floor and charged admission to visit it. Tourists and Jews began visiting the site regularly for prayers. In 1987, the Israeli authorities confiscated the mosaic, the house and a small part of the farm around it. They offered compensation to the Shahwan family, but it was rejected.

After the 1995 Oslo Accords, control of the site was given to the Palestinian Authority. It was agreed that free access to it would continue, and that it would be adequately protected.

There have been some incidents. For example, on the night of Oct. 12, 2000, the synagogue was vandalized by Palestinians who torched and destroyed most of the building, burned holy books and relics, and damaged the mosaic. For more than eight years, no Jews were permitted in Shalom Al Yisrael Synagogue, but, during that time, it was restored by the Municipality of Jericho. Since 2007, prayer services have been allowed once a week.

* * *

By 12:15 p.m., we were at the tel (hill, or mound), which some journalists climbed. Opposite is a building with restaurants, snacks and a kind of enclosed mall. Israeli soldiers patrol the entire area. Outside, a man was giving rides to people atop a camel, and soldiers sat around and chatted.

The archeological site is about 2.5 kilometres north of modern-day Jericho, on the site of the ancient city, 258 metres below sea level. It was inhabited from the 10th century BCE. Excavations began in 1868 and settlements are known to date from 10000 BCE.

photo - Photographer Barry Kaplan rests by Jericho’s oldest city wall. Tel Jericho can be seen in the background — Photographer Barry Kaplan rests by Jericho’s oldest city wall. Tel Jericho can be seen in the background. *(photo by Barry Kaplan)*

The story in the Book of Joshua relates that, when the Israelites were encamped in the Jordan Valley, ready to cross the river, Joshua, as a final preparation, sent out two spies to investigate the military strength of Jericho. The spies stayed in Rahab’s house, which was built into the city wall. The soldiers sent to capture the spies asked Rahab to bring out the spies; instead, she hid them.

After escaping, the spies promised to spare Rahab and her family after taking the city, if she would mark her house by hanging a red cord out the window. When Jericho fell, Rahab and her whole family were saved, becoming part of the Jewish people.

The biblical battle of Jericho was the first battle that was fought by the Israelites. According to Joshua 6:1-27, the walls of Jericho fell after Joshua’s army marched around the city and blew their trumpets.

* * *

Our second-last stop was Moshav Naama, which is about 45 minutes from the centre of Jerusalem and one-and-a-half hours from Tel Aviv. About 50 families live there. We arrived at 2 p.m.

On the moshav, they grow grapes, dates and organic vegetables. Inon, one of the farmers, grows herbs in greenhouses. In the warehouse, sweet basil and tarragon are packaged for shipping all over the world to supermarkets.

Inon said 95% of the dates grown there are Medjoul and 5% are other kinds. Medjoul dates originated in the Middle East and North Africa, and are one of the most famous varieties. They are well-known for their large size and delicious flavour. The dates from the moshav will be harvested in September and October.

* * *

At 4:30 p.m., above Qasr al-Yahud, the baptismal site, chairs have been set up for the approximately 900 people who will listen to speeches commemorating the Israelites arrival in the Promised Land. However, since most of the journalists do not understand the Hebrew, the GPO bus boards at 5:20 p.m. and travels back to the GPO offices, arriving just over an hour later. Even though we didn’t stay for the whole proceedings, I am still excited to have been a witness to the ceremony.

[For more on this press trip to the Jordan River and Jericho, see “Celebrating our history.”]

Bittons bring home honours from New York

Silver trophy winner Levi Bitton, 11, and medal winner Mendel Bitton, 14, with their father, Rabbi Binyomin Bitton, director of Chabad of Downtown Vancouver, at the International Chidon Sefer Hamitzvos. (photo from Chabad of Downtown)

Seven months of diligent study came full circle April 7 for Mendel and Levi Bitton of Vancouver and more than 1,200 of their peers at the final round of the annual International Chidon Sefer Hamitzvos in Brooklyn, N.Y. Of close to 10,000 children from more than 150 schools worldwide who participated in this year’s competition, Mendel and Levi earned two of the highest scores on three rigorous exams, qualifying them for a trip to Brooklyn to participate in the final tournament. Also earlier this month, more than 1,400 girls participated in their own similar showdown.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, OBM, encouraged children to thoroughly study all of the Torah’s 613 commandments as enumerated and elucidated by Maimonides in his Sefer Hamitzvot. His followers have taken to his words, hosting an annual chidon (contest) that challenges children to study large volumes of detailed texts delving into the intricacies of each mitzvah, and compete for trophies, medals and prizes.

Organized by Merkos L’Inyonei Chinuch, the educational arm of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement, together with Tzivos Hashem, its children’s division, the Chidon Sefer Hamitzvos sees thousands of children ages 9-13 staying late at their respective schools to study the mitzvot with their classmates and friends. As finalists, Mendel and Levi flew to New York, where they enjoyed four days of trips and competitive games that tested their knowledge, and concluded with a grand on-stage tournament and award ceremony.

In the final moments, the tension rose and the crowd went silent as the emcee opened the long-awaited envelopes and announced the trophy winners and champions of the final exam.

We are proud to report that Levi earned a silver trophy. We are also proud to report that Mendel was among 15 boys, from grades 4 to 8, who completed the entire Chidon curriculum. Mendel earned a medal celebrating his commitment and all those months of hard work.

Mazal tov to Levi, Mendel and all of the competitors!

For more information on the contest, visit chidon613.com.