Judaism – Page 61

More than a mere contract

An outer space-themed ketubah designed by thisisnotaketubah.com.

Judging from its ritual text, the ketubah (marriage contract) that is read aloud during a Jewish wedding ceremony isn’t the most exciting, romantic or joyous document. It spells out a husband’s fundamental Jewish legal obligations to his wife – food, clothing, conjugal rights – and guarantees the sum that the husband will pay his wife in the event of a divorce. Yet, increasingly, today’s ketubah designs are anything but dry and transactional. Going beyond placing a plain document in a basic picture frame, or using common designs such as a view of Jerusalem or the kabbalistic Tree of Life, ketubah artists and consumers alike are developing more elaborate and personalized tastes.

Morgan Friedman, chairman and “lead muse” of thisisnotaketubah.com, calls his initiative “the first company to do outlandish ketubot,” starting in 2011. Friedman said he “wanted a ketubah with super-crazy modern art” leading up to his wedding in 2010, but couldn’t find one. He approached his wife-to-be’s friend, Argentine artist Yael Magenheim, and she designed a ketubah to match his wedding, whose theme was the colour orange. Today, Magenheim is the artistic director for thisisnotaketubah.com, which has created 3,000 ketubot to date. Most customers order designs that the website already offers, but Friedman has a separate site, bespokeketubah.com, featuring commissioned artworks.

“My official reaction and what I tell [customers] is, ‘Whatever makes you happy.’ What makes the world a wonderful place is that different people have different preferences,” Buenos Aires-based Friedman told JNS.org, reflecting on some unique ketubot he has designed, such as one commissioned for a dragon-loving couple who are Game of Thrones fans.

Adriana Saipe was also inspired to enter the ketubah art business through the process of designing her own ketubah, in 2013. For customized ketubot – which make up 20% of her business on inkwithintent.com, the rest coming from existing designs – the Vermont-based artist said she often starts “with a place that has significance” for the couple. She asks them questions like where they met, where they’re living and where they’ve traveled together. For instance, one ketubah the artist is currently working on features landscapes from Miami, Pittsburgh and Providence, three cities where the couple has lived.

Saipe also hides “little secrets” in her designs. In a ketubah for a couple that enjoys rowing, she added boathouses along a river amid a nighttime Philadelphia cityscape; the average observer might not notice the small boathouses, but they are there for the couple to appreciate, Saipe explained, describing this design choice as the difference between the “outer layer that’s art on the wall” and the “inner story for the couple.”

Although Friedman cites 2011 as the advent of the “outlandish” ketubah, other artists estimate that elaborate, unique or customized ketubot were popularized at least two decades ago.

“The current trend to have modern art ketubahs began around the end of the 1990s,” said San Antonio-based artist Nishima Kaplan, who runs artketubah.com. “I was one of the first few artists to be involved in this trend, which was customer-driven. In the 1990s, the technology didn’t allow for just-in-time ketubah prints, so people who wanted an artistic piece with a unique text had to commission a handmade piece. I made a lot of these in the early 2000s. Now, there is such a wide selection of artistic designs on the internet that can be ordered with any text, so there is less demand for handmade pieces that are artistic but not personal, the unique designs that reflect a couple’s life continue to be desired.”

Jerusalem-based artist Danny Azoulay took up ketubah design nearly 20 years ago, when Israel’s tourism minister asked him to design award certificates for companies slated to be named as the top 50 businesses for tourism in the Jewish state. At least 10 people who saw examples of the certificates in Azoulay’s store commented that they would make for compelling ketubot, prompting the artist to pursue that niche.

Azoulay, who runs ketubahazoulayart.com, recalled that, when he first began designing ketubot, most Judaica production took place in China and India, where manufacturing costs are lower than they are in Israel. He understood that he couldn’t compete with sellers of standard mass-produced Judaica items, and needed a niche such as the ketubah. Simultaneously, more customers were asking him to produce commissioned ketubot.

Saipe, who has produced about 1,000 ketubot, said that, based on her conversations with consumers of various ages, the trend of elaborate designs began “somewhere between the 1980s and 2000.”

“There’s a really interesting dichotomy among ketubah artists themselves,” she said, noting that, on the one hand, there are “well-established” artists who produce ketubot with a classic old-world feel, and, on the other hand, there has been the emergence during the last five years of “contemporary” artists who employ “modern symbolism and modern times” in their designs.

What’s the reason behind the trend? The artists agree that customized ketubot are simply indicative of the popularity of personalized art in general, in addition to reflecting the personalization of various aspects of weddings.

“Everyone loves personalized art. This is not a new thing,” said Kaplan, who has created more than 3,000 ketubot since 1998. That said, some couples’ desire to alter and personalize the ketubah’s age-old Aramaic ritual text may also play a role in the trend of commissioned designs, she said.

“Once a couple begins thinking about a text they want that is different from the traditional one on their parents’ ketubah, it may be a natural next step to wanting an art ketubah,” said Kaplan.

Read more at jns.org.

Chatting with my father’s G-d

I am 69 years old and I have been living with multiple sclerosis for the last 29 years. During that time, my disability has affected my spirituality, and vice versa.

I grew up with Orthodox Jewish maternal grandparents in the same house as my less-than-Orthodox parents. Spirituality is about love if it is about anything, and my earliest memories of spiritual experience are all tied up with my love for my grandfather and his for me.

I was very close to my grandfather, Shmuel (Samuel) Silberberg. He died when I was 12, but until then, for as long as I can remember, I sat with him in the synagogue in the rows closest to the ark. There was a sense of belonging – those old guys were connected. Looking back, it is funny that I had a strong sense of belonging where I definitely did not belong. Young girls were not wanted there. But my grandfather belonged, and it was clear to all that he thought I belonged with him. He was not argued with. Even my father, Moishe (Morris) Novik, sat with the other 50 regular guys in the middle toward the back. He sat where he belonged, which was not up front with me and the old guys.

After my grandfather died, there was no more sitting with the old guys in the synagogue. I got sent upstairs to sit with my mother and the rest of the women. It just wasn’t the same. There was one row of old women who had that aura of belonging, but the other women were chatting or moving around. My connection to Judaism drifted away.

Around 1978, I went to visit my parents in New York. To my chagrin, I realized that my children, ages 8 and 6, knew nothing about being Jewish and knew plenty about Christianity. Oops. If I didn’t give them a sense of being Jewish, our dominant Christian culture would move in. When I returned to Vancouver, I searched for a place our family would fit. For a single, lesbian, politically active welfare mother, this wasn’t easy. But the children and I persevered, and we found the Peretz Shul (officially the Peretz Centre), a progressive secular Jewish place of education and culture. Our Jewish identity was saved – we had an anchor. I came to see spirituality as the sense of belonging that I remembered and that I needed for my children. Every Sunday I took them to the Jewish school and, once a month, there was a potluck lunch following. The kids had secular bar and b’nai mitzvah, and all was well.

By 1988, the woods and physical movement were my spirituality. My son had moved out on his own and my daughter was staying with family in California, so I hiked, cross-country skied, and spent time in British Columbia’s backcountry. The woods and mountains were my holy places, my grounding and my anchor. I found it impossible to wander in the beauty and not feel in every fibre of my body that I was part of something so much bigger than I.

Enter primary progressive multiple sclerosis. In this type of MS, disability gets steadily worse, without pause or remission. And my world was – and is – turned upside down. In the midst of this chaos and uncertainty, where was my anchor now?

In 1989, I took a medical leave from the travel agency I owned and moved to an A-frame home on friends’ property in Mission, B.C. No electricity, no running water. I chopped lots of wood. My MS moved slowly. I could happily live in the bush while trying to sort out what it all meant. I was blessed to find a weekly aboriginal healing circle, through the Mission Indian Friendship Centre, that warmly welcomed and grounded me.

Back on the farm, I walked with the dogs to the waterfall and talked to G-d, the G-d who was and is very much my father’s G-d. He had a personal relationship with G-d and, as a kid, I learned from watching him. When we went to the cemetery, he chatted with his dad and mom. He would stand by their graves and have long, friendly conversations, and I would watch with awe how the talks were never solemn, just friendly and intimate. When he was done, he would always ask if I had anything to add. I would shake my head and he would smile. There was never any pressure that I should talk.

The important lesson I learned was that it is OK to talk to dead people. And they will listen – they are interested. I spoke about this lesson at my father’s funeral. When one of my children or I had a problem, some people would say, “I’ll pray for you.” My dad would say, “I’ll talk to my friend upstairs for you.” He was just a regular guy who spoke about his friend upstairs in the way he would talk about any neighbour. For me, as a child and even now, this relationship is soothing and comforting.

With the chaos that MS brings to my life, sometimes a breakthrough comes when I can step back from the insurmountable roadblocks and see them instead as stepping stones on my path. This is difficult for me. My first impulse is to kick, scream and deny every new loss. Yet it is crucial to see the stepping stones so I can move forward. I remember that from hiking.

In 1990, I was back on my porch in Vancouver and missing the aboriginal healing circle. I thought, “Wait, I have my own ritual.” Around this time, my son, who had just become a father, said, “Mom, it’s time to go to synagogue.” And I said, “I know where to go.” We went to Or Shalom, where I found much grounding and a sense of community. I told a friend at Or Shalom that I hadn’t been to synagogue in 30 years. She just said, “Welcome home.” And home it was to me, my son and my granddaughter. Over the years, people have asked, “How did you manage to get your son to come to synagogue?” And I tell them it was his idea.

A few years later, in 1994, I wanted a way back to the woods. I had heard of therapeutic horseback riding, and I thought that, with the horses, I could get there. My first lesson, just 10 minutes of riding, felt great. I was convinced that this was going to sort out my hip joints, legs and back. That happened, and the surprise was that my soul and psyche were also woken up. I always felt like I had just done something grand. I, who don’t often feel proud of myself, suddenly felt quite proud for getting on this obstinate horse, Brew. He was an elderly, beautiful chestnut gelding. But strong-willed, like me. Before I got on a horse, I would always have a minute where I thought, I am insane to climb all the way up there. But, as soon as I got up there, I felt wonderfully alive. The day I rode Visteria, a big 16-hand chestnut mare with an amazingly smooth walk, it was like gliding along on top of the world. My hips unlocked and I felt my spirit rising.

For a few years, those horses were my anchor, my connection and my strength. Riding gave me back the joy of moving. I began to realize again how much my sense of spirituality was connected to physical movement. Hiking, long walks, swimming and horseback riding put me in a place where I could be connected to G-d, where I could feel myself part of a larger whole. But, with MS, there was one loss after another. I went through several aids: cane, then walker, then scooter, then horses.

Before the MS diagnosis and the losses in mobility, did I talk to G-d? Not much. The first conversations I remember happened in my year in Mission, during my daily hikes to the waterfall, with G-d and the dogs my daily company.

Now, with my mobility much more compromised, I still find G-d time where I can. The conversations now centre on “meaning.” What does this new life mean? What am I supposed to be doing? And so often G-d answers, “Go write.” I complain about the endless health maintenance that leaves so short a day, and G-d answers, as she always has, “Go write.”

Can I say exactly where spirituality is in my life and what it means for me? I am still a tad confused. Primary progressive MS slowly and persistently takes stuff away, so, in the 29 years of the illness, I have reinvented myself over and over and over again. The long hikes are just a memory, and I don’t often get out of my house to my synagogue anymore. Now that my physical movement is so limited, will I find a way to grow more spiritually?

Still, when I need spiritual guidance, I ask my father to talk to his friend upstairs. My father smiles and says, “You can talk yourself now, you know.” We both know that I do have my own conversations. But I still like using him as my go-between.

Ellen Frank was a writer, activist, mother, grandmother and retired travel agent, author of Sticks and Wheels: A Guide to Accessible Travel on the Lower Sunshine Coast (Ouzel Publishing, 2006), Taking the Reins (Kindle, 2011) and several articles published in anthologies and in periodicals, including the Jewish Independent. She lived with primary progressive multiple sclerosis from 1988 to her death in January 2017.

Is America part of a divine plan?

In The American Miracle, Michael Medved argues that the success of the United States is not based on random “happy accidents.”

Early America’s historical events could be seen as a set of dominoes falling conveniently into place, creating a thriving free and democratic nation, but Michael Medved believes there’s a divine hand that helped.

The Jewish nationally syndicated radio show host has just published his 13th book, The American Miracle: Divine Providence in the Rise of the Republic (Crown Forum, 2016), describing a dozen incidents from the 1580s to the American Civil War, in which a moment of crisis was successfully resolved, against great odds, and seemingly by chance.

photo - Michael Medved — Michael Medved *(photo from twitter.com/medvedshow)*

“I think this is the first time someone has approached it from this angle,” he told the Independent. “The best explanation for the emergence of the United States as the dominant economic, military, even cultural power in the world … is not a pattern of happy accidents, because a pattern of happy accidents is still a pattern. The evidence, it seems to me, suggests very strongly that America is a product of intelligent design.”

One of Medved’s examples is that of Abraham Lincoln surviving six assassination attempts, with the seventh and final one coming only after he freed the slaves. Another such occurrence, according to Medved, involves Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s battle plans, which were etched on a cigar wrapper cover, discarded unknowingly by one of his infantry and later found by a Unionist soldier, radically turning the tide of the war and saving the union.

Additionally, writes Medved, Napoleon Bonaparte was to take command and possession of Louisiana to protect it against the British, but the harbour uncharacteristically froze over on that April day. It was part of a series of events that led the French conqueror to cede land four times the size of France to the Americans – later called the Louisiana Purchase – for the paltry sum of a penny an acre.

“With the United States – and with the modern state of Israel – there are clear moments of creation reflecting acts of will and providential acts of will,” he said. “It’s not based on tribe or blood or place of birth. It’s based on conscious decisions by generations of people to be part of this endeavour, and that makes the United States and Israel completely distinct from every other country on earth. It’s a much stronger argument for design rather than evolution.”

Medved’s other books have covered American themes as well, including The Ten Big Lies About America; The Shadow Presidents, a history of White House chiefs of staff; and Right Turns, an autobiography covering his path to becoming a conservative.

Part of the reason why he penned this recent book was not only to show that America’s founding had, as he sees it, a little help from above and has changed the world for the better, but “because we have lost that sense America is miraculous and astonishing,” he said.

“If you don’t look at America as providing grounds for gratitude, then you will look at America as providing grounds for guilt, and that is what our education system emphasizes now: we slaughtered native Americans, we exploited African slaves, we oppressed workers and we enslaved women.

“We’ve taken the heroism out of it, taken the nobility out of it,” he said. “We’ve taken the purpose out of it – and America is about nothing if it’s not about a sense of purpose.”

As to why America has been so particularly blessed, Medved posits a theory: the Founding Fathers were philosemites.

“John Adams, Alexander Hamilton, George Washington, believed that one of the reasons for America’s distinctive blessings can be found in Genesis, Chapter 12, verse 3,” he said, explaining the section where God says He will bless those who bless Jews, and curse those who curse Jews.

In fact, he added, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin worked together to create what they hoped would be the great seal of the United States, featuring an image of Moses leading the people across the Red Sea.

“The founders themselves,” he said, “insisted that they were the instruments, rather than the authors, of the design.”

Dave Gordon is a Toronto-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in more than 100 publications around the world.

Jewish ethics and surrogacy

(Spikebrennan via Wikimedia Commons)

The subject of surrogacy has been examined by Jewish scholars, mainly rabbis, for thousands of years. The Jewish belief system of ethical values incorporates two independent and seemingly disparate thoughts. The first is the obligation to be fruitful and multiply and to fill the earth, and the second is the obligation to free the captives, to actively engage in the redemption of those who are enslaved. In modern context, to free the captives is the fight to end human trafficking, and surrogacy has been identified as a form of human trafficking. An examination of how these two elements of Jewish core beliefs, once given ethical attributes, interface can hopefully open discussion in the Jewish community.

Genesis 1:28 commands us be fertile and increase. Jewish tradition considers it to be the first of the 613 commandments of the Torah. Again, after the flood, Noah is enjoined, in Genesis 9:1, to be fruitful and multiply. In this context, it stands for regeneration of life after death-dealing disasters.

In biblical times, infertility or barrenness in women spoke to, among other things, the values and concerns of an agrarian society requiring manpower to work the land and tend to the flocks. The need to people the land and have heirs to inherit property was of great importance. Adoption and polygamy were acceptable practices. The Jewish matriarchs, Sarah, Rebekah and Rachel, all were infertile prior to God’s intercession. The significance of having a child was so valued that the Divine presence saw to the continuation of the lineage. Handmaids bore children, fathered by the patriarchs, when their wives suffered from infertility. The surrogates for the biblical matriarchs bore the children; however, as the Bible stories tell us, relational conflicts ensued.

Jewish tradition finds connection from one mitzvah to another, from one transgression to the next. How does this fit with the subject of surrogacy and how it is perceived today? Surrogacy can certainly be a dimension of human trafficking, a form of modern-day slavery where people profit from the control and exploitation of others. As defined by Canadian federal laws, victims of human trafficking include children involved in the sex trade, adults aged 18 or over who are coerced or deceived into commercial sex acts, and anyone forced into different forms of “labour or services,” such as domestic workers held in a home or farm workers forced to labour against their will. In many countries, the practice of commercial surrogacy can be indistinguishable from the buying and selling of children, and meets the criteria of human trafficking.

Altruistic or compassionate surrogacy is legal in Canada, but it is definitely illegal to pay a surrogate mother for her services. The Assisted Human Reproduction Act prohibits the provision or acceptance of financial consideration to a woman for acting as a surrogate. However, it is legal to reimburse a surrogate mother for her reasonable expenses incurred as a result of surrogacy. In the province of Quebec, the Quebec Civil Code has not allowed for surrogacy agreements. Recent case law has changed the rights for couples to engage in surrogacy agreements, paving the way for legislative change in the future.

Jewish law has been forced to evolve as reproductive technologies have impacted family, parent(s) and child(ren). Rabbinical authorities have had to apply halachic analysis and interpretation to modern technologies including reproductive technology. Since the 1970s, there has been discussion, starting with the subject of artificial insemination. Sperm donation, ovum donation and surrogacy are the three ways for an infertile couple to become parents. Legal contractual obligations are undertaken.

Opposition to surrogacy was raised by Rabbi Immanuel Jacovits, chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth from 1976 to 1991. In his 1975 publication Jewish Medical Ethics, he argued that to use another person as an incubator and then take from her the child that she carried and delivered for a fee is a revolting degradation of maternity and an affront to human dignity. It is not the technology that concerned him; rather, the social and ethical implications of the act of medical reproductive intervention.

In 1977, Rabbi Elie Kaplan Spitz acknowledged that ethical problems can arise with surrogacy when the offspring has no relationship with its birth mother. The status and rights of a surrogate vary among geographical localities based on the laws of the land which, increasingly, form the basis of rabbinical discourse.

The Committee on Jewish Laws and Standards of the Rabbinical Assembly provides guidance to the Conservative Jewish movement in matters of halachah. In 1984, Rabbi David Lincoln’s guidance was accepted, citing surrogacy as a “mitzvah-blessing so great that we should not deny couples of this opportunity.” By 1988, the committee concluded that the mitzvah of parenthood is so great that ovum surrogacy was permissible.

Rabbi Prof. Aaron Mackler offered his opinion that surrogacy could not be recommended, as he believed that maternal status is determined by gestation and birth, and that the danger of commodification of the child is real and present. His thoughts are echoed by Rabbi Prof. David Golinkin who, in a response published by the Schechter Institutes in 2012, redirected childless couples to adoption. He stated, “anyone who raises an orphan in his home, Scripture considers it as if he has given birth to that child.”

Many Jewish women in the latter part of the last century, in response to the Holocaust, felt an added incentive to be fruitful, like Noah’s kin in biblical times, in order to create a continuance of their ethnic identity. Therefore, Jewish women could be cast in the role of breeders whose purpose was the security of the Jewish ethnic identity. It is possible that the fear of annihilation created a psychological response that welcomed any safe method of family creation. It is also possible that this fear is now embedded in the Jewish community’s psyche as a modern response to fulfilling the biblical injunction. As such, there might be a greater willingness for women to look for alternative methods of family creation. Being fruitful so that your family will continue now speaks to procreation through natural family births, adoption and surrogacy.

It can seem problematic to apply the label of exploitation to any part of the surrogacy agreement. In commercial surrogacy, the birth mother receives a commission for her service, beyond her health-care, lodgings and clothing expenses and potential lost income. Is there any coercion for these mainly middle-class women to engage in surrogacy for financial rewards (not financial needs)? However, what needs recognition by Canadians is the state of surrogacy around the world. There is much cruelty and abuse resulting in significant pain and suffering of birth mothers. Baby-breeding farms do exist. International surrogacy agreements dissolve, leaving newborns stateless.

There is a body of literature that recognizes attachment issues for the gestational surrogate mother to her birth child. Developing an emotional bond with a baby during pregnancy, knowing that, after birth, all contact and rights will be relinquished can cause psychological distress. During the nine months of gestation, the birth mother bonds with and becomes emotionally attached to the baby growing inside her. This is a normative emotional response and it is in conflict with the rational understanding of the surrogacy process.

Jewish law recognizes the birth mother as the legal mother. Although this status can be waived and national laws allow for the transfer of newborn children through legal contractual vehicles, ethical and moral consideration should be given to the surrogate. It is fundamental, as a Jewish value, to care for those in need. If the surrogate has unresolved needs after giving birth, they should be acknowledged and resolved, as she is not only a production vessel. Is there a mechanism to ensure that the surrogate is not trapped or enslaved in a state of ongoing post-partum depression? Education for the new parents, as a component of the contract, on the surrogate’s needs beyond the physical could have value. Judaism recognizes women as equal to men in the eyes of God, according to the Torah. Valuing the birth mother will assure a fair process.

Addressing the subjects of infertility and parenthood in today’s context brings forward the changing demographics of families, their structure and roles. Indeed, the definitions of family, marriage, spouse, men’s and women’s rights and obligations within the family have made a paradigm shift. Now, same-sex Jewish couples and single people can choose surrogacy as a method of family development. Rabbis’ seeming silence on this issue is, to some, a problem, as they see the rabbis as having acquiesced to the law of the land in regards to the legitimacy of surrogacy.

Surrogacy in our North American context appears to be a mainly benign and favourable solution for those who want to create or enlarge their families. Still, caution must be taken when embarking on this process of family creation to ensure that there is no pressure from external interest bodies on any parties in the surrogacy relationship. Consideration of the potentially negative aspects of surrogacy needs to come into play in decision-making. Both those wanting a child and the surrogate need to be protected from undue influence and to be provided with appropriate supports.

Surrogacy has become an accepted form of reproductive technology in our modern Jewish life. Denial of its worth is not an option. The ethical values discussed by Maimonides, a great halachic scholar, philosopher and physician who lived in the 12th century, hold true today. He talks about behaviours that need modification, balance and examination for the individual to reach a virtuous state: “In truth, it is the middle way that should be praised.” His guidance is worthy of due consideration. Surrogacy, as a process for the creation of a Jewish family, must be undertaken with a full understanding that the path to be taken has ethical complexities that need to be considered before the journey starts.

Marni Besser is a consultant to National Council of Jewish Women of Canada, human trafficking file.

Why Jewish camp matters

The most frequently used words by alumni answering the question “What does Camp Miriam mean to you?” The larger the word, the more frequently it was used. As with other Jewish camps, “Jewish” and “identity” are the most common responses. (from campmiriam.org/home/about/our-impact)

As a director at JCC Chicago’s Camp Chi, I often found it difficult to know with much certainty if our goals and mission were being met. Sure, I knew that campers were having a lot of fun, trying new things and forming friendships, but what about the deeper connections or personal growth?

Satisfaction surveys and return rates demonstrate one type of success, but these measurements don’t get to the heart of what we want kids to take away from their camp experiences.

I saw firsthand last summer that this challenge is even more true at day camp, where campers often don’t have the maturity or verbal expression skills to accurately share their feelings. By spending a minute at any of the nine JCC Chicago day camps, you know that campers are having the time of their lives, but how do we know if we are meeting or exceeding what we want to be the positive impact of camp or, more precisely, the positive impact of Jewish camp.

We found the answer to this question in a surprising way. Towards the end of the summer, as part of a larger project, we asked JCC Chicago day campers to complete this sentence: “It’s not just camp. It’s _______.”

Using markers and crayons, words and pictures, campers shared – often with creative spelling – what camp “is” to them. Among responses that ranged from reflective to silly, we discovered a number of answers that highlighted the distinctive elements of Jewish camp. Campers wrote: Jewish memories … Shabbat … family … Jewish tradition … Maccabi games … inspiration … Jewish … community … Israel experience … a chance to show yourself … kindness … Shabbat singing … JCC.

With an opportunity to write anything they wanted about camp, many of our campers chose to express what was meaningful to their Jewish identity and Jewish experience. These ideas were surrounded by other words and phrases, such as swimming, home sweet home, soccer, awesomeness, my happy place, fantastic, best part of the year, friends, painting and love.

screenshot - Screenshot from a 2014 Camp Solomon Schechter promotional video. While swimming and other secular activities engage campers, so do Shabbat and Israel — Screenshot from a 2014 Camp Solomon Schechter promotional video. While swimming and other secular activities engage campers, so do Shabbat and Israel. *(from youtube.com)*

Seeing this better defined for me, more than any research study, why Jewish camp matters. The melding of Jewish rituals, ideas and activities with the excitement that naturally happens at camp is the real magic of Jewish camp. Swimming was a dominant theme with our day campers, but so was Shabbat and Israel. Campers related “Jewish” alongside fun, joy, comfort and belonging.

This reminded me of something I experienced in the months leading up to my first summer working at Camp Chi. I met with small groups of campers and staff to get the real scoop on the camp. I asked all of them to tell me their favourite part of camp. Almost always the answer was “Shabbat.”

Not having attended Jewish camp as a child, I thought this was an odd response at a camp with outstanding facilities and activities. I would have expected “horseback riding” or “water skiing” or even “my friends,” but, instead, I heard about how connected they felt to the Jewish community or their “Jewishness” when at camp.

What our day and overnight campers told us is so much more than just words on paper or stories to be shared. There is incredible power in this positive relationship to Judaism that campers make while at Jewish camp. At JCC Chicago day and overnight camps, being Jewish is fun, accessible, relaxed, just like almost everything else that takes place there. In their own ways, our campers, from the youngest to the oldest, expressed that “Jewish at camp” has meaning and importance to them; it’s part of what makes camp and their camp experiences so special.

As adults, we can see that their words and stories are evidence that the seeds of Jewish connection are planted throughout the summer. The potential impact of Jewish camp is tremendous. It sets the stage for a lifetime of sense of belonging to a Jewish community, a relationship with Jewish traditions, a feeling of pride in Jewish identity and an understanding of values.

It’s not just camp. It’s the start of a lifelong Jewish journey and so much more.

Jamie Lake is marketing manager of JCC Camping. This article is reprinted with permission from JUF News. It can be found at juf.org/news/local.aspx?id=440848.

Camp’s Jewish warmth

Climbing at Camp Kalsman. Kids will come home from camp laden with good memories. (photo from campkalsman.org)

My son left for camp a few weeks ago and, try as I might, I cannot quell the heartache at his absence.

At 11, he is independent and outgoing, with a gentle disposition and a winning smile. Every day, he pauses to wrap me in a long embrace, regardless of the battles we have fought over homework, “screen time” in front of the computer and TV, and our ongoing feud over why he has no iPod. “Everyone I know has one,” he insists.

He fights a good battle, my son, and I miss our exchanges – both the affectionate ones and the “you’re so unfair” ones – while the reins of control are in the hands of his camp counselors for 18 days.

photo - Children on the dock at Camp Hatikvah, 1976. Though the writer’s camp experience occurred on a different continent and in a different generation, Jewish overnight camp changed her life — Children on the dock at Camp Hatikvah, 1976. Though the writer’s camp experience occurred on a different continent and in a different generation, Jewish overnight camp changed her life. *(photo from JMABC L.09597)*

I know his time away will be exceptional and that he will return home laden with good memories. His days and nights will be full of campfires, Jewish songs, new friends and exhilarating zip lines through the treetops. He will forget to change his underwear for far too long, spend every day in a swimsuit and leave the sunscreen untouched despite my pleas to the contrary. But, he will come home with even more confidence, buoyed by his newfound ability to stay away for longer stretches of time, surrounded by people his own age.

Back home he has left a large void in the family, a space of silence that he usually fills with chatter, observations and mischief. My daughters reflect on how quiet and dull life is without their older brother, who organizes impromptu theatrical performances long after bedtime and is always game for a round of Monopoly. Sure, there’s less sibling rivalry. But I’d trade it in a heartbeat for his broad smile and spontaneous hugs.

My own days at camp come to mind vividly, though they happened a quarter-century ago. You can’t forget your camp crush, the couple that got expelled for climbing into a sleeping bag together or guard duty, when we climbed atop a water tower to “protect” the other campers from imagined threats to their safety.

photo - Shabbat eve at Camp Miriam, 1949. For generations, Jewish camp has been instilling Jewish values and a love of Judaism in campers — Shabbat eve at Camp Miriam, 1949. For generations, Jewish camp has been instilling Jewish values and a love of Judaism in campers. (photo by Sarah Ehrmann *(née Shirley Gurevich) Habonim collection, JMABC L.24608)*

I remember the warmth of singing songs around a long table, our bellies filled with food. My camp occurred on a different continent and in a different generation, but, like the one my son is attending, it was a Jewish overnight camp and it changed my life. It opened my eyes to different ways of being Jewish and impregnated my mind with the beauty of Shabbat.

As I prepare to welcome him home in a few days, I’m fervently hoping his camp will leave him with a similar feeling of Jewish warmth and nourishment. Those in the business of funding Jewish overnight campers firmly believe that the future of Judaism and its leaders lies in the bunk beds of today’s Jewish camps. That’s because they offer a 24/7 Jewish environment that’s engaging, supportive and fun, one that promotes religion and religious values.

With two years to go until a bar mitzvah, I’m counting on it. I’m already fielding questions like “Why do I have to eat kosher?” If I’ve had to endure 18 days without my son, he’d better come back with – at the very least – an answer to that question.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net. This story was first published in 2012.

Share light of Shabbat

“We want to share Shabbat with those who are alone, or those who might have difficulty cooking for themselves. Plus, we want to help every Jew feel connected and part of the community,” said Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman of Chabad of Richmond, who started the Light of Shabbat program in 2011. “This is not tzedakah; it’s about making a connection with other Jews and helping them celebrate the mitzvah of Shabbos.”

With help from devoted community volunteers, full kosher Shabbat meals are cooked and delivered to those who are elderly, alone, recovering from illness, or homebound. Currently, deliveries are done every other week to about 10 people in Richmond. Each Shabbat box contains challah, grape juice and Shabbat candles, plus a meal of soup, salad, chicken, vegetables and dessert – all homemade. They even include a little card with the blessing for lighting candles, the Torah portion for the week and information about why Jews celebrate Shabbat.

“The boxes are personalized, depending on the needs of the recipient, so some boxes contain more than one meal,” said Grace Jampolsky, coordinator of the Light of Shabbat program. Chabad of Richmond has delivered 495 boxes to date.

“I like to bake the challah myself, but other volunteers make the soup, cook the chicken and vegetables, and bake the desserts,” added Jampolsky.

Richmond resident Courtenay Cohen and her friends, some of whom aren’t even Jewish, bake cookies, cakes and brownies for the Shabbat boxes. Cohen started volunteering a year or two ago. Asked why she recruited non-Jewish friends to help bake, Cohen said: “They’re very involved in their own religious community, but when I told them what I was doing, they wanted to help. It’s a great way to teach them about Judaism.”

Taking on a bigger role this year, Cohen now oversees the baking part of the Shabbat boxes. Not only does she bake, but she also helps pack the boxes and deliver some of them. “Delivering the boxes gives me a chance to visit elderly Jews and others in our community and make a person-to-person connection with them. It’s also a way to check in on them and make sure they’re living in safe and suitable conditions,” added Cohen. “Plus, they really love talking to young people.”

Pam, one of the Shabbat box recipients, said: “It’s fantastic! It’s very generous of Chabad to do this.” Pam said she especially likes when the kids decorate the boxes, and she enjoys the short visit with them. She said that, with the recent snow and an elevator that wasn’t working, she couldn’t leave her apartment for a week, so the Shabbat box was very helpful to have.

Rabbi Yeshurun Blumenfeld, along with his 6-year-old son and 4-year-old daughter, make volunteer deliveries of a Shabbat box to a couple in their 90s every other week. “Not only do I create an ongoing relationship with this couple, but it’s a way to teach my kids about the importance of doing mitzvahs,” said Blumenfeld, who added that promoting a mitzvah is a sanctification of G-d’s name.

Blumenfeld also shared a story of how, one day, when he was at a Richmond bakery buying challah for his family, he happened to bump into the wife of this elderly couple to whom he delivers a Shabbat box. She was shlepping a bunch of groceries, and he asked her how she was getting home. She told him she had called a taxi. He immediately said they should cancel the taxi, and he would drive her home himself. He said it was a very special moment for him, to make that connection with another Jew.

The Light of Shabbat program began in memory of Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg, shluchim who started the Chabad House in Mumbai, India – the couple was murdered by terrorists in 2008.

Supporting the Light of Shabbat program is a huge mitzvah on many levels. And, as there are a lot of seniors and others in Richmond who would appreciate a good Shabbat meal, Chabad of Richmond desperately wants to expand the program, but needs more donors, sponsors and volunteers to sustain it. Their goal is to substantially increase the number of meals they deliver every week. Each filled Shabbat box costs approximately $25 to $28. To donate to the program on an ongoing or one-time basis, contact Baitelman at 604-277-6427 or [email protected].

Film seeking funders

A scene from the trailer for Note in the Oak.

During the summer of 2014, Vancouver-based Cornfield Media produced a short film titled Note in the Oak, starring Carmel Amit and Moshe Mastai. Now feature-length, the production is seeking funds to complete some of the Jewish heritage and culture aspects of the film.

The short Note in the Oak was the official selection at several festivals: at the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival in 2014 and, in 2016, at Roma Cinema DOC in Rome, Italy; Move Me Productions short film festival in Antwerp, Belgium; London Monthly Film Festival in England; Best International Independent Film Festival in Karlsruhe, Germany; and Reflections of Spirit International Film Festival in Erlangen, Germany.

The film’s plot was inspired by true events that took place in New Jersey in 2012. The hero is Joyce, a home-care provider. Following the death of a longtime patient, she goes on a quest to find his estranged son, Corry, to bring him to his father’s grave. The story mixes suspense, laughter, hope, heart and conflict. It also includes a slice of a Jewish culture.

During the past two years, the short has been developed into a feature film (100 minutes) and Cornfield Media is now ready to produce it this year. However, the feature script is not yet fully complete and some vital elements are still missing. This is where the producers are seeking community participation.

Cornfield Media needs help to secure some licensed Jewish artistic material – these poems and pieces of music are essential to the plot and without it, the story will be good, but missing some of the key Jewish elements it requires. Any assistance would be greatly appreciated. For more information and to contribute, visit jewcer.org/project/nito343334.

Aginsky this year’s Lamplighter

Jason Aginsky (photo from Centre for Judaism of the Lower Fraser Valley)

The Centre for Judaism of the Lower Fraser Valley has announced the recipient of its annual Lamplighter Award, which honors a child who has performed an outstanding act of community service.

Jason Aginsky, a 16-year-old Grade 11 student at McMath Secondary in Richmond, was the second-youngest participant in the B.C. Ride to Conquer Cancer in August 2016, when he rode the 250 kilometres from Surrey to Seattle over two days.

“He’d announced eight months earlier that it was a cause he was determined to support and no safety concerns raised by his worried mother could deter him,” said Mark Aginsky, Jason’s father.

Jason was motivated to do this ride after losing his grandmother, Shirley Kramer, to ovarian cancer in 2003, when he was just 3 years old. He joined the Village Idiots, a group of riders in the Steveston area, and, after raising close to $4,000 to support the B.C. Cancer Agency, powered through the race.

“We followed him on Day 1 by car and he was utterly exhausted, on the brink of admitting he’d ‘bitten off more than he could chew’ by participating,” his father recalled. “The winds were against the riders that day and it was hard going. But, when it comes to determination, Jason has it in spades and he pushed through on Day 2, waiting hours at the last stop so he could cross the finish line with other members of the group who were well behind him.”

In total, this year’s participants in the B.C. Ride to Conquer Cancer raised $7.1 million for cancer research.

Jason will receive the Lamplighter Award on Dec. 29 at the Semiahmoo Shopping Centre at a ceremony attended by Rabbi Falik and Simie Schtroks, directors of the Centre for Judaism, White Rock Mayor Wayne Baldwin, and representatives of the cities of Surrey, White Rock, Langley and Delta.

“Chanukah celebrates the victory of light over darkness and goodness over evil,” said Simie Schtroks. “This is a most appropriate opportunity to motivate and inspire young people to make this world a brighter and better place. By filling the world with goodness and kindness, that light can dispel all sorts of darkness.”

Prize for social justice

Kirkland Lake students paint a mural as part of the Indigenous Awareness project. (photo from Toronto Heschel School)

The Toronto Heschel School has announced the recipients of its first-ever social justice Prize for Teaching Excellence 2016. The top award goes to Erin Buchmann at the Kirkland Lake District Composite School in Ontario, which took first prize for its Indigenous Awareness program. Second prize goes to Todd Clauer at Hyman Brand Hebrew Academy, a Jewish day school in Overland Park, Kan., for its Upper School Social Justice Project.

Heschel, a Toronto Jewish school, invited educators around the world – including public, private and religious schools of all denominations – to share how they bring social justice into the classroom through heritage, culture or religion. The call was issued in THINK Magazine, Heschel School’s semi-annual educational thought publication, last November. It invited educators to submit their original class projects and school initiatives that met the following criteria: Is it rooted in heritage, culture or religion; does it inspire social responsibility in children; and has it been implemented successfully?

Toronto Heschel is committed to encouraging today’s youth to be citizens of the world by celebrating and recognizing teachers who use their students’ identity and cultural values to incorporate social justice learning as part of the everyday school curriculum. The award received entries from across Canada, the United States and Israel, and collected many inspiring stories of teachers and students committed to making positive change in the world.

The completed mural, which was painted by Kirkland Lake students as part of the Indigenous Awareness project. (photo from Toronto Heschel School)

Buchmann took top honors for the project Indigenous Awareness, based on the Seven Grandfathers’ teachings – core cultural values that teach responsibility to self-govern, take care of the land and one another by standing up for social justice. Students created a large mural in the school, installed an art installation called “Red Dress” around the school and dramatized the Seven Grandfathers’ teachings in a play. The project resulted in a 100% pass rate in the class, where there had been 50% failure level before. The school is also now expanding its aboriginal studies program to include a junior and senior course in 2016.

“We are so proud to win the Prize for Teaching Excellence,” said Buchmann. “The Truth and Reconciliation Commission calls on Canadians to act to promote equality and fairness. We are creating opportunities for students to explore and celebrate their individual identities and heritage while promoting social justice for all. By encouraging and supporting students to take action, we are taking steps towards reconciliation, promoting awareness of social issues and creating a more inclusive environment in our school and our community.”

The Upper School Social Justice Project, which won the second Prize for Teaching Excellence 2016, is implemented across three years of high school. Clauer teaches his students that their Jewish heritage teaches them to embrace and pursue justice through everyday advocacy for the dignity of all peoples, and all faiths.

The project saw Hyman Brand students focus their study and engagement on inequity in access to health care in their community; promoting voter engagement; and campaigning for free, universal, early childhood education. The project, conducted in partnership with a local charter school, also took students – Jewish and African-American, more advantaged and less advantaged, city centre and suburban – on a civil rights journey across the southern United States.

Named for Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, the Toronto Heschel School was founded in 1996 to give children the spirit of awe and wonder as they learn. The school teaches social justice through the philosophy and social action leadership modeled by Heschel. It is a pluralistic Jewish day school, which means it welcomes all Jewish children; it now has more than 270 students (junior kindergarten through Grade 8) from Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Orthodox and secular families. Jewish thinking and ethics are integrated throughout the curriculum to deepen learning, enrich school culture and inspire social responsibility. For more information, visit torontoheschel.org.