Judaism – Page 62

Finding community on coast

Members of the Gibsons-area Jewish community gather for a pre-Rosh Hashanah dinner. (photo by Lehe Spiegelman)

Young Jewish families are looking for affordable living, just like everyone else. What they are finding is that the Lower Mainland just doesn’t provide opportunities for family-work-life balance, so they are seeking it further afield. One such frontier is the Sunshine Coast. Close enough to commute into Vancouver via ferry if necessary for work, the communities of Gibsons, Roberts Creek, Sechelt and beyond are looking more appealing than ever before.

There is a real draw for Jewish community members right now: a growing community of young Jewish families interested in Jewish education and community events. This fall, Rebecca Porte and Lehe Spiegelman started a weekly Hebrew school for their children and other interested families. They have also been community-building though Shabbat dinners and other activities that include the range of generations.

A native of Vancouver, Porte attended Vancouver Talmud Torah and Congregation Beth Israel growing up. When work took her to Gibsons, she fell in love with the community. “It’s like being in a Jewish community but in a different way. It’s intimate living in a small community,” she said.

Porte’s husband, Steve, grew up in Oyama, B.C., a very small community, so the transition to Gibsons was natural for him. Career advancement drew them back to Vancouver for a few years, where their young daughters also attended VTT. Upon returning to Gibsons, the family felt something was missing: the girls needed more formal Jewish education and community.

Spiegelman has three children and lives on a farm close to Gibsons. She and Porte became friends and decided to work together to bring a stronger sense of Jewish community to the Sunshine Coast.

“We wanted to make something happen,” Porte told the Independent. “We started by created an avenue to Jewish education for our kids – it’s always about the kids, right?”

photo - Teacher Corin Neuman with students Maya, Sahra, Sarra and Ocean — Teacher Corin Neuman with students Maya, Sahra, Sarra and Ocean. *(photo by Lehe Spiegelman)*

Together, Spiegelman and Porte secured a teacher, Corin Neuman, who travels to Gibsons from Vancouver for weekly lessons with 10 children from six different families. Neuman travels every Thursday afternoon to work for 3.5 hours with individuals and small groups at different levels. The focus is on holidays and culture, some children speak Hebrew at home and others are just beginning to learn.

A big challenge of this program is cost. To ensure that this Jewish educational experience is accessible for all families who want to participate, Porte and Spiegelman are subsidizing the lessons themselves.

“We have a $90 shortfall each week,” said Porte. “We’ve applied for a grant from [Jewish] Federation and are looking for other grants … but because we’re really just trying to get it going, we’ll cover the costs for this year.”

Porte added that Spiegelman is an awesome teammate in this venture, not only in her financial generosity but also her hospitality.

While education is the foundation of a communal experience, food is another crucial part of being Jewish together. Spiegelman opened her home for the first two Shabbat dinner initiatives the duo planned. The first dinner, which took place just before Rosh Hashanah, had more than 30 people and included challah-baking beforehand with the kids. On Nov. 18, they hosted a second dinner, with a similar number of participants, although not all the same people. The duo’s next plan is to have a Chanukah party that includes older members of the Jewish community who have been on the coast for years.

“When we first came to Gibsons, before we had kids, Steve taught private guitar lessons. It is kind of funny: all of the Jewish parents in Roberts Creek had their kids doing guitar lessons, so we were invited to things back then,” said Porte.

“I know there have been Jews who have been connected to each other on the Sunshine Coast for many years,” she added. “What we’re doing is building a network of younger families, creating a hub as well as regular Jewish education. I’m curious to know how many Jews are on the Sunshine Coast – I have no idea! We know right now there are enough to have a Jewish network, enough people for our kids to sing a Jewish song together and do some Israeli dancing. It’s important for us because it’s good for the kids.”

For more information on how to connect with this blossoming community, e-mail Porte at [email protected].

Michelle Dodek is a Vancouver freelance writer and community volunteer who tries to get to the Sunshine Coast with her family as often as she can, weather permitting.

Much work to be done

It has been a difficult month for me and I know it has been for many of you. Though I feel more and more like a Canadian with each passing year and I am a rabbi in this community, I still have an emotional connection to family and events in America (“the old country”). Like many around the world, I am grieving a loss, not of an election, but of a promise and a vision of a more hopeful, kind, tolerant and peaceful world.

The election of Donald Trump as president of the United States is a reminder of the power of fear and the fragility of the human spirit. There is no denying that a majority of the global population of Western countries feels threatened by unrelenting change – immigration, globalization, terrorism, multiculturalism. Many conflate slowing or stopping the pace of change with preserving their heritage, their privilege. The election of nationalistic leaders around the globe, of which Trump is only the latest, is an unfiltered primal scream of the fragility and fear consuming Western civilization.

As Jews, we are always hyper-aware of these kinds of tectonic shifts in societal norms. When what was once considered beyond the pale of decency becomes mainstream, we rightfully get worried.

That the U.S. election took place on the anniversary of Kristallnacht only served to remind us of the thin veneer of civility that exists in society and how fragile it is against the pressures of a global economy and existential threats to safety and security.

Here in Canada we have seen an increase in antisemitic incidents since the American election. Perhaps they are unrelated, but our “radar” for these kinds of things tells us otherwise. Anger and resentment have been given licence and agency by this recent campaign. Perhaps they would have no matter the winner but, whenever this happens, it is never “good for the Jews.”

Throughout the Torah, God tests the Jewish people. He puts them in the most vexing of situations. Temples are destroyed, false prophets rise among them, they are attacked from within and they are attacked from without. In each instance, the people rise above the challenges and are stronger because they confronted the challenge and found a way to persevere in spite of it.

I don’t think God brought us Trump or those world leaders like him, but I do think this is a test of our character and our humanity as individuals, as Jews and as Canadians, a test with great implications.

The biblical prophets were ignored and often derided, and yet they stood up and spoke truth to power. In the end, sometimes decades later, they were always proven right. The situation developed just as they said it would and the people suffered greatly, but they recovered, eventually healed and were restored.

I am 46 years old. For my generation, this is our time to lead, and the world will look to us to address these problems. This is the great test of my generation, one that began on 9/11. A test of our humanity, a test to prove that love does trump hate, that we can be good and prosperous, that America and other nations can be great without tearing each other and their citizens down in the process.

I am lucky to be in Canada right now, but election night made clear what we already knew: we are not there yet. There is work to be done here, too, as well as in America and around the globe. We are not impervious to the isolationist forces and economic circumstances that brought Trump to power.

Rabbi Tarfon used to say: it is not upon you to complete the task, but you are not free to idle from it (Avot 2:21). The time for mourning is ending. We must rise from our grief and get back to work – for there is much to be done.

Dan Moskovitz is senior rabbi at Temple Sholom.

Unique book group

The next novel up for discussion at the Jewish-Muslim women’s book group is The Red Tent.

One Sunday in July led to several new experiences for yours truly, a 23-year-old Jew living on Vancouver’s North Shore. For starters, it was my first time in a mosque, it was my first time in Delta and it was without a doubt my first Jewish-Muslim book gathering. Thankfully, it wasn’t my first time reading a book in less than 24 hours, as my decision to attend the gathering after seeing it mentioned in this very newspaper, was pretty spur of the moment.

The book group’s second-ever session was held at Baitur Rahman Mosque, a building that, upon first impressions, was slightly imposing – British Columbia’s largest mosque, dwarfing any synagogue I’ve come across – but which proved home to an incredible amount of warmth. The warmth began with smiles when I entered the room late – it was a longer journey than I expected – and continued through the entire two-hour session about the book (I Am Malala by Malala Yousafzai with Christina Lamb), and well into the snacks and chats afterwards.

Having been greeted by 30 or so women from both Jewish and Muslim backgrounds, there was the classic ice-breaker – going round in a circle, saying one’s name, a little bit about yourself and an interesting fact. I may not have been able to beat one woman’s fact (she used to be a stilt walker) but my relatively young age meant I stood out.

This lengthy introduction introduced me well to the thoughtful, kind group. In true Canadian spirit, they were from so many different places and cultures. The Muslim women in particular had a heartening appreciation for their country. One said she “liked Canada very much”; another one-upped her, exclaiming, “I am one of the luckiest people alive” for having been welcomed here. There’s no doubt that the women from both religions were of a progressive stance – the bulk of Jews was from egalitarian Or Shalom synagogue, while the Muslim women were part of the Ahmadiyya community, which has been persecuted relentlessly by more orthodox Muslim groups.

As conversation began about the book, it became clear that everyone was so lovely – was I the only person who hadn’t helped Syrian refugees settle in Canada? – that I began to wonder if the group was a case of “preaching to the converted.” Surely the people most ignorant, and most in need of education about other religions, weren’t the type who would turn up to this group? A cynic by nature, this worry stayed with me during the (fairly fleeting) discussions about the book and the (much longer) follow-up conversation about the link between religion and education, how and whether you can teach critical thinking, and other thought-provoking questions.

So, I reached out to the organizers from both sides. The email chains that followed gave me insight into two great communities and their prior interfaith ties, as well as into two pioneering women: Tiferet Welch from the Jewish community and Aisha Naveed from the Ahmadiyya Muslim Jama’at. They provided some strikingly similar answers to my questions, illustrating how much common ground can be found between the two religions (religions that, evidently, don’t always see eye to eye).

About why the book group came about, it seemed that the books were simply a way of facilitating discussion about religion itself. Welch said she decided to make the group happen after meeting some of the Muslim women, who “stated their knowledge of Judaism and, hence, Jews, was extremely limited,” but they were “fueled with a strong desire to know more.” Naveed said “the book club was initiated to remove common misconceptions between the Jewish and Islamic faith,” explaining to me how her community believes in interfaith dialogue to “encourage learning” and “prevent ignorance.”

The women were also on the same wavelength about the group’s future – Naveed called it “an organic venture” and Welch said “we want to see it progress organically.” They were both proud of what it had accomplished in such a short time: Naveed proclaimed it “a huge success,” while Welch described the discussions as “open” and “honest.”

And what did they have to say to my “preaching to the converted” angst? Naveed said that, because interfaith gatherings “are a form of open and safe space,” they mean you learn a great deal about one another. Welch said “there needs to be a distinction made between being open and being knowledgeable.” In layman’s terms: those who attend the group are open, but that doesn’t mean they’re knowledgeable, and the group aims to educate.

Welch also pointed out that, because the event is promoted, for instance, via Or Shalom’s electronic bulletin, geography is a non-issue. Theoretically, people all around the globe can subscribe to the group and see how progressive it is. And, she reminded me that, once this article is published, other Jews will know about it, and thus the group’s potential for change is increased.

With that in mind – how to sell the group to someone reading this? I’ll break it down, simply and honestly, into three points.

First off, the reading material is quality. The first session the group discussed the book Faithfully Feminist: Jewish, Christian and Muslim Feminists on Why We Stay, edited by Amy Levin, Gina Messina-Dysert and Jennifer Zobair. It led to a worthwhile discussion on how both religions are traditionally patriarchal, and what this has meant for female faith in male-dominated arenas. For me, having started off dubious about I Am Malala, the second session’s read proved a powerful one. The youngest-ever Nobel Peace Prize winner’s account is both humble and knowledgeable, a memoir that explains well the Taliban’s rise, Pakistan’s history and politics, and the monumental importance of educating girls.

Second, the discussions that stem from the books are as intelligent as they are interesting. The two-hour discussion flew by at the mosque – the only thing I can compare it to is a dream university seminar or tutorial; i.e. one not ruined by hung-over students unable even to blag the required reading. Participants were incredibly educated and respectful. We covered moral values and where they should be learned, we discussed the media’s portrayal of religion and our internal prejudices, and I gained a ton of insight into a religion that many of us could, and should, know more about. Their actual definition of jihad – as education; a clear rejection of terrorism – which hung proudly in the room, struck me as particularly vital in this day and age.

Third, the post-discussion food is fantastic. The informal portion of the event, where we stood eating (delicious snacks) and chatting, was where we all connected more personally and more deeply. I found out what it’s like to be judged immediately and constantly for wearing a hijab, and how it feels to be asked where you’re from, to reply saying “Canada,” and then receive a demanding “No, but where are you really from?” On a more light-hearted note, I found out how pleasing it is to interact with people outside my usual social circle, to do something new and to spend a Sunday afternoon with a group of thoughtful, inspiring women from all over. Oh, and did I mention how good the food is?

The group’s next meeting – about The Red Tent by Anita Diamant – is scheduled for Dec. 18, 2-4 p.m., at Or Shalom. Women interested in attending are advised to follow Or Shalom’s web page or subscribe to its email list, and to RSVP Welch at [email protected].

Rebecca Shapiro is the associate editor of vivalifestyleandtravel.com and a travel blogger at thethoughtfultraveller.com. She’s been published in the Guardian, Elle Canada and the Huffington Post, as well as various other Jewish newspapers in the United Kingdom and Canada. She currently resides in Vancouver, having previously lived in London, Shanghai and Toronto.

Scholar talks at Peretz

Prof. Ester Reiter, author of A Future Without Hate or Need, points to the U.S. election as a warning that the issues the Canadian Jewish left dealt with are as timely as ever. (photo from Ester Reiter)

On Dec. 1, Prof. Ester Reiter will speak at the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture to launch her new book A Future Without Hate or Need: The Promise of the Jewish Left in Canada (Between the Lines, 2016).

Reiter’s book documents “the varied political and cultural activities of those who were part of the secular Jewish left” – the movements in which many Yiddish-speaking immigrants and their children took part during the first half of the last century, made up of Yiddish schools, theatres, choirs, dance troupes, drama groups, sports leagues, union activism, newspapers, women’s groups and summer camps. Their members were animated by a vision of what many of them would have called a shenere, besere velt (a more beautiful, better world). There were groups throughout the country, with the strongest ones in Montreal, Toronto and Winnipeg.

Many of these groups came together nationally in the United Jewish People’s Order (UJPO), founded in 1945. The book launch is being undertaken to commemorate the 90th anniversary of the founding of the Labor League – which later became part of UJPO – in Toronto in 1926. The launch is sponsored by UJPO, and co-sponsored by the Peretz Centre and the Shaya Kirman Memorial Foundation for Yiddish Culture. It will start at the Peretz Centre at 4 p.m.

Reiter, a sociologist by training and a senior scholar at York University in Toronto, grew up in New York in a milieu similar to the one she describes. “I grew up in the New York left, the sister version of the Canadian Jewish left. I was a child in the Yiddish shule [school] in Brooklyn and later the mittlshul [middle school] in Manhattan during the Cold War. Many of my teachers were well known in Canada – they were in the summer camps in Montreal and Toronto, and taught in Canada. The politics were virtually the same and shule materials used in Canada were produced in New York, particularly in the early years, the 1930s.”

This community was at its strongest from the 1920s to the 1950s. Yiddish-speaking immigrants were immersed in the secular Yiddish culture and literature that emerged in the late 19th century. “The Jewish left was the equivalent of a university for working-class women and men. The cultural activities – dance, choirs, orchestras – were accessible to both women and men. People working in the needle trades with no time to learn to read music would sing classical works in the choirs, learning them by heart.”

Reiter says of the Yiddish Arbeter Froyen Fareyn (Jewish Women’s Labor League) that, “the very act of getting together changed many of the women,” particularly in women-only groups, “where women felt more comfortable, they described how they learned to speak in meetings. Their political commitments, which involved activities such as walking picket lines, raising money for various causes, necessitated engaging in public life in a way that required and reinforced self-confidence. This participation in the wider world was empowering. They supported each other, made close friendships and had a lot of fun.”

Jews on the left in Canada, as elsewhere, were diverse – they included social democrats, Bundists, anarchists, Labor Zionists and Marxists. Reiter focuses on those whose outlook was Marxist and supported the Soviet Union after the 1917 October Revolution.

Reiter emphasizes that this sector of the Jewish left had a life of its own distinct from the Communist party. “The leadership were Communist party members, but approximately 95% of the membership of the UJPO and its predecessors were not. One could think and say what one felt in the Jewish left without concern over whether it was the ‘correct’ position. Many people came [to the Jewish left] because of the liveliness of the community, as well as the politics.”

Initially, Yiddish schools saw their purpose as conveying ideological values, but this later shifted to transmitting the Yiddish language and Jewish cultural identity for their own sake, including secularized versions of Jewish holidays and rituals. “In the early period, a Yiddish education in the shule was to ensure that the children learned they were the children of workers, and needed to care about racism and class exploitation. After Hitler came to power and antisemitism was growing, Yiddish was valued as an end in itself, and there was more acceptance of the different ways of identifying as a Jew. The community developed secular ceremonies around the bar/bat mitzvah, the High Holidays, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.”

The Jewish left experienced government harassment during the Cold War, especially in Quebec under premier Maurice Duplessis. Reiter notes that Canadian Jewish Congress defended civil liberties in the face of repression, but “dealing with pro-communist groups in their midst was a different matter.” UJPO was expelled from CJC in 1952 for dissenting from the Cold War consensus by opposing the postwar rearmament of West Germany and supporting the Stockholm peace petition.

The Jewish left for a long time saw the Soviet Union as a hope for a better society, in its outlawing of antisemitism and support for Yiddish culture in the 1920s, but their hope was shattered by the Stalin regime’s murder of Yiddish artists in the late 1940s and early 1950s. “For many years, people projected their idealism on[to] the USSR. When they found out about Stalin’s suppression of Jewish life, it was shocking. Most of the Jewish [Communist party] leadership from UJPO left the party. However, the rank and file in UJPO were never actually party people, so many felt that, although the USSR under Stalin was terrible, their activities in Canada – helping the unemployed, union support – were important and valuable.”

Reiter describes various factors in the shrinking of the Canadian Jewish left – Cold War persecution, disillusionment with Stalinism, the erosion of Yiddish by assimilation. However, UJPO itself has survived the disappearance of the milieu that gave birth to it, and has even attracted new members. Reiter reflects, “There certainly is a need. Our politics mean that we are inclusive of different kinds of families – gay, straight, trans, mixed racial and religious origin. Yiddish has pretty well disappeared, but the progressive politics remain. With respect to Middle East politics, there are a variety of views in the UJPO, but we all agree that criticizing the actions of the Israeli government does not mean that one is a self-hating Jew. We also continue with trade union support, First Nations solidarity, environmental activism. We exist because we have a community that has a good time together. As the organized Jewish community has moved to the right, we provide a place where one can have a Jewish identity and be progressive. Secular left Jews now have to think about what we have in common, not what separates us.”

Reiter points to the Nov. 8 U.S. election as a warning that the issues the Canadian Jewish left dealt with are as timely as ever. “The struggle against racism, sexism, homophobia and all this meanness and narrowness is an ongoing one – a call to remember and honor and value our own history and where we came from.”

Carl Rosenberg is a member of the United Jewish People’s Order and Independent Jewish Voices Canada. For many years, he edited Outlook: Canada’s Progressive Jewish Magazine.

Acoca launches book here

Rabbi Ilan Acoca has published his first book, The Sephardic Book of Why (Hadassa Word Press, 2016).

Why is a set of Sephardi tefillin different from an Ashkenazi pair? Why do Sephardim laugh during Havdalah, after reciting the blessing over the wine? Why do Sephardim not use the shamash to light the Chanukah candles? Why do Sephardim celebrate with henna before a wedding? These and so many other questions are answered by Rabbi Ilan Acoca in his book The Sephardic Book of Why: A Guide to Sephardic Jewish Traditions and Customs, just published by Hadassa Word Press.

The spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Hamidrash for 17 years, Acoca will return to the synagogue for the book’s local launch on Dec. 10, as part of a larger tour. Acoca and his wife Dina have been rabbi and rebbetzin of the Sephardic Congregation of Fort Lee, N.J., since they left Vancouver in August, and Rabbi Acoca is also rabbi-in-residence of Yeshivat Ben Porat Yosef, in Paramus, N.J.

photo - Rabbi Ilan Acoca will be back in Vancouver for the Dec. 10 book launch — Rabbi Ilan Acoca will be back in Vancouver for the Dec. 10 book launch. *(photo from Hadassa Word Press)*

“I would like to invite the entire community to the book launch,” Acoca told the Independent, “where I will explain what triggered me to write the book, as well as some singing and shmoozing.”

The rabbi shared a little of his motivation for writing The Sephardic Book of Why, which, he said, took three years to put together.

“Through the years, many people (Sephardim and Ashkenazim alike) asked me questions about Sephardic customs, trying to understand where each originated and what is the significance. At times, I had an answer and, at times, it intrigued me to research and find out more. One day, I was invited to a wedding as a guest and saw that the officiating rabbi had a Chabad rabbi’s guide. I knew that the RCA [Rabbinical Council of America] had an Ashkenazi rabbi’s guide so I thought to write one for Sephardic rabbis. A few days later, I sat down with my friend David Litvak and shared my idea with him. He thought about it for a moment and suggested a book that would include the entire Jewish and non-Jewish world. Immediately after the meeting, I opened my email and saw one from Hadassa press telling me they saw some of my classes on YouTube and were interested for me to publish a book with them. For me, that was a sign from heaven that I could not ignore.”

Adorned by a cover featuring the interior of Lazama Synagogue in Marrakesh, Morocco, The Sephardic Book of Why – Acoca’s first book – is divided into five chapters: Daily Rituals, Shabbat and Holidays, Lifecycle Events, Sephardic Culture, and Rabbi’s Musing. The last chapter comprises a selection of articles by Acoca that were originally published in the Canadian Jewish News. They cover a range of topics, including essays on “the middle path,” unity and the importance of diversity. So, having arrived in the United States from Vancouver only months before the presidential election, the Independent asked him if he had any advice to offer to Jews living in the United States (or Canada) about the polarity and divisions that were highlighted in the campaigns.

“It is pretty simple,” he said. “In order to move forward, we have to find things in common. There are so many things that unite but we often concentrate on what divides us. By finding things in common, we could understand each other, communicate and move forward.”

While there are a couple of other books on Sephardi customs, Acoca said, “My book is the only book that is in a question-answer format. It is more condensed, short, to the point, with sources.”

“The book is very thorough, yet easy to read,” writes Rabbi Elie Abadie, MD, of New York City’s Edmond J. Safra Synagogue and director of the Jacob E. Safra Institute of Sephardic Studies, Yeshiva University, in the book’s foreword. “It will please scholars and students equally, with good source material and footnotes. It covers the entire year-cycle of holidays and the lifetime milestones. It is a perfect book for Sephardim who, unfortunately, are just beginning to learn about their own traditions and for Ashkenazim who have just begun to interact with and learn about the Sephardim and their ‘different’ customs.”

Abadie puts quotes around the word different because, he notes, “In the overwhelming majority of minhagim [customs], the ‘Sephardi way’ was the ‘original and standard way’ of fulfilling a commandment, and the Ashkenazi community throughout the ages veered from the original minhagim and traditions, given the geographic region that they lived in and the circumstances that surrounded them.”

For those wanting to learn more about the “original” ways of Jewish practice, or to see a good friend while he’s in town, the Dec. 10 book launch, talk and signing starts at 8 p.m. People can also order a copy of the book from Hadassa Word Press.

Meditating mindfully

Or Shalom is hosting one of the leading innovators in the field of Jewish meditation next weekend – Rabbi Jeff Roth of the Awakened Heart Project will lead a half-day retreat at the synagogue on Dec. 4.

Roth, who has been practising and teaching meditation for decades, teaches his own synthesis of Eastern techniques with a Jewish heart, which he calls Jewish mindfulness meditation.

Rabbi Jeff Roth of the Awakened Heart Project will lead a half-day retreat at Or Shalom on Dec. 4. (photo from Jeff Roth)

“I was already a rabbi when I started studying Asian meditation,” he explained. “Everything I learned, I learned through a Jewish lens. I never took on a practice without altering it slightly.”

When asked if anyone has objected to his synthesis of Jewish spirituality with Asian contemplative techniques, the rabbi said, “What I integrate is the truth of the nature of mind and no one has any objection to that. I ask questions like, What is the influence of conceptual thinking on the mind? What are the effects of different thoughts?”

Roth teaches a type of meditation that involves experiencing the mind and body with a healing, nonjudgmental awareness. It is rooted in the mindfulness movement first brought to North America in the 1970s, which has steadily grown in popularity, even finding a significant place in new medical treatments and corporate environments. And Jews have played a large role in the movement, demonstrated by leading teachers like Jack Kornfield, Joseph Goldstein, Sharon Salzberg, Jon Kabat-Zinn and others.

Drawn to the mystical teachings of Judaism as a young rabbi, Roth said they remained “intellectual” for him until he began practising meditation. “In the quiet, in the silence, I became a mystic,” he said. “It became a direct experiential realization.”

Among his students now are many rabbis. “I teach rabbis they need to come to the silence, the witnessing, to have a deeper spiritual experience,” said Roth, referring to the practice of “just witnessing” that characterizes mindfulness meditation. By just witnessing thoughts, feelings and sensations, say its exponents, mindfulness meditation calms the body and mind and allows deeper, non-conceptual awareness of experience. “From a Jewish perspective, ‘just witnessing’ is not enough, however,” he said. “You need to be the compassionate witness.”

Roth said he draws his central inspirations from the teachings of the Chassidic masters, especially the Baal Shem Tov – Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer, 1698-1760, founder of the Chassidic movement.

“The Baal Shem Tov said ‘everything is God and nothing but God,’” Roth explained. “The whole thing to do is to align ourselves with the truth of being, which in the Torah is expressed as ‘ein od milvado’ (‘there is nothing else besides God’).”

A turning point in Roth’s development came in 1981 when he received teachings from Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, the founder of the Jewish Renewal movement, which became the scaffolding of his theology of contemplation.

“Reb Zalman taught me about the four worlds, or levels of manifestation, that occur within the Holy One of Being,” said Roth. The contemplation of how the four levels of manifestation happen in our minds and bodies can guide our mindful exploration of experience, he said. “The four worlds have become a central metaphor in my teaching. I have been working out that teaching for the last 35 years.”

book cover - Me, Myself and God Roth’s latest iteration of that “working out” can be seen in his recent book, Me, Myself and God: A Jewish Theology of Mindfulness (Jewish Lights, 2016), from which he will be presenting practices and Torah teachings at the Dec. 4 session.

“We’re trying to understand the fundamental forces that alienate us in our experience of life, in order that we might live more from a place of awakened heart, which is connected to all experience and allows us to manifest with more love and compassion in our daily lives,” said Roth. “I want to emphasize that acting with love and compassion – that’s where we’re going with the whole thing.”

For more information on the retreat, which will take place from 2:30-5:45 p.m., and be followed by a potluck meal, visit orshalom.ca.

Matthew Gindin is a freelance journalist, writer and lecturer. He writes regularly for the Forward and All That Is Interesting, and has been published in Religion Dispatches, Situate Magazine, Tikkun and elsewhere. He can be found on Medium and Twitter.

Jewish view of afterlife

Rabbinic Pastor Simcha Raphael will be a scholar-in-residence at Congregation Or Shalom for a Shabbaton Nov. 25-26. (photo from Simcha Raphael)

Later this month, Congregation Or Shalom is hosting a Shabbaton featuring Rabbinic Pastor Simcha Raphael, a bereavement counselor and expert in Jewish beliefs and sacred practices around death and the afterlife.

Founding director of Da’at Institute for Death Awareness, Advocacy and Training, Raphael also has a psychology practice specializing in grief counseling and bereavement support, and is an adjunct assistant professor in the Jewish studies department of Temple University in Philadelphia. While in Vancouver, he will participate in various educational activities at Or Shalom, sharing observations from his decades-long study of related Jewish wisdom and customs.

Raphael’s interest in the afterlife began in personal experience. When he was 4 years old, his Bubby Mina died. As was common for children at the time, he did not attend the funeral or shivah, but he was told that she had “gone to heaven.” In his young mind, this meant she was still alive and accessible and, for years afterward, he found comfort in talking to her.

Years later, when the rabbi was 22, a good friend died in a car accident. Heartbroken, Raphael found that he had a continued sense of his friend’s presence. This experience, together with his childhood memories of talking to his grandmother, came together as both a question and an inspiration. Raphael was already studying psychology and world religions – he turned his focus on what Judaism says about the afterlife.

Then, as now, many Jews and non-Jews wrongly believed that Judaism does not have anything to say about the afterlife. But, as Raphael investigated the textual tradition, he found that the Torah, Talmud, kabbalistic writings and Jewish folklore all painted a very different picture.

“In the world of the Chassidim, the world of the Ashkenazi shtetl, there was no question about the reality of the spiritual realms and their interaction with this world,” Raphael told the Independent.

As many Jews eagerly embraced modernity, these traditions were suppressed or forgotten. With the encouragement of his mentor, Reb Zalman Shachter-Shalomi, Raphael undertook to unveil these traditions for modern Jewry. In his now-classic Jewish Views of the Afterlife, published in 1994, Raphael provided a comprehensive discussion on these issues for a popular audience. A 25th anniversary edition of the work with a foreword by Arthur Green is expected in 2019.

Raphael has found that traditional rituals and beliefs around death can have therapeutic value, whether those dealing with these transitions believe in a tangible afterlife or not. “For example,” he said, “traditionally it is believed that the soul stays behind for seven days after death, preparing to leave. Mourners can be encouraged to take this time to say things they wished to say to their loved one, whether they literally believe their words are heard or not. I have found that this practice has great value for people.”

At the upcoming Shabbaton, Raphael will share rituals like this one, as well as explore the rich traditional lore Judaism possesses around death and the afterlife.

Raphael’s teaching program at Or Shalom runs Nov. 25-26 and is called Judaism and the Mysteries of Life, Death and the World Beyond. He will address what the Hebrew Bible, Jewish custom and the kabbalah can tell us about death and dying. On the Saturday, at 7 p.m., he will offer a community talk called Twilight Between the Worlds: Jewish Ghost Stories, which will take place at Celebration Hall at Mountain View Cemetery.

For more information about and registration for the Shabbaton weekend, visit orshalom.ca/shabbaton2016. Admission to the Saturday night cemetery event is free but seating is limited, so an RSVP is requested to orshalom.ca/jewishghoststories.

Mixing of cultures, religions

Helen Kim and Noah Leavitt, authors of JewAsian, will be at the Jewish Book Festival on Nov. 28. (photo by Matthew Zimmerman Banderas)

The recently published book JewAsian: Race, Religion and Identity for America’s Newest Jews by Helen Kim and Noah Leavitt was crafted out of a seven-year study of 39 mixed couples, as well as their own successful marriage. The couple will be in Vancouver later this month to share their findings at the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival.

For Kim, who was born a few years after her parents moved from Korea to the San Francisco Bay Area in the late 1960s, finding a Korean guy to date was a virtual mission impossible, so looking outside the community was accepted.

“My mother was totally fine with it, in large part because she’d thrown away her expectations that I marry somebody Korean a long, long time ago,” said Kim of her marriage with Leavitt. “I think, in part, because I grew up in a community that was predominantly white with very few people of color, I think she quickly realized that, demographically speaking, it was probably going to be unlikely I’d meet, date and eventually marry someone of the same ethnic background as me.”

Leavitt, who is of American Jewish origin, said, “My mom was super-excited about the fact I had met somebody I was so smitten with. She and Helen, early on, established a great rapport that has continued ever since. I think my mom just had an expectation that I’d settle down with somebody I really loved, who I was challenged and inspired by, and saw that in Helen … so she was excited.”

Leavitt grew up in a household that was somewhere between the Reform and Conservative denominations. He went to a Jewish community Sunday school growing up that was housed at Cornell University and he had his bar mitzvah at Ithaca College through their Hillel.

Kim and Leavitt met in 1997 and both were drawn to the complexity of their Jewish-Asian mix, an interest that increased with the births of their children.

“This was the era where, I think, we started to see a lot of interracial pairings, dating and marriages,” said Kim. “And it was also right before the U.S. census gave multiracial individuals the option of choosing more than one race on the census … really, an interesting time, demographically speaking, where the context around us was contributing to our thinking about how common are pairings like ours and maybe other interracial or Jewish-not Jewish pairings.”

Leavitt and Kim contacted a number of universities that were repositories of large-scale demographic studies. They were aware that the study of intermarriage to that time had been focused on interfaith marriage, but had not delved into how interracial marriage factored into the larger picture.

The couple reached out to the Institute for Jewish and Community Research. Through this connection, they were able to do an initial recruiting of couples with whom to speak for their book. In the end, their study included 39 couples from the San Francisco Bay Area, Los Angeles and Orange County, and from the New York and Philadelphia metropolitan areas.

“We focused there, in part, because of the high percentages of individuals who identified as Jewish and Asian,” said Kim. “Then, there was the likelihood and demographic reality that interracial marriages are taking place predominantly in those areas … with the West Coast having, by far, the highest rates of interracial marriages.”

“We had a lot of people volunteer to be part of the survey and what we made a decision to do was to try to find the most expansive look at Jewish-Asian combination that we could,” said Leavitt.

Within the 39 couples, one was gay and three were lesbian, with the remainder being heterosexual. The study also included a second set of interviewees who were young adults that were children of Jewish-Asian households.

“The first thing by far that I think was quite surprising that we found was that, for the couples as well as the adult kids, they are definitely Jewish – not just in terms of the self-identification perspective, but in terms of some strikingly traditional religious practices,” said Kim. “So, the couples we interviewed were in the midst of or had created homes where there was a lot of traditional Jewish religious practice – everything from observing Shabbat consistently, to consistent synagogue attendance, to kids becoming bar or bat mitzvah, to children going to Jewish day schools.

“Then, for the adult kids we interviewed, they affirmatively claimed they were Jewish. But, they also talked about having been raised in traditionally religious households and communities that, to a great extent, mirrored what we were finding with the couples we interviewed.”

While only six of the racially Asian individuals had converted to Judaism, the overwhelming majority of couples celebrated Jewish religious events and cultural tradition alongside Asian ethnic traditions.

“There was neither a conflict of religion nor a blending of religions,” said Kim. “It was more of a cultural hybrid, but steeped in Judaism as the religion of the household.”

“I would go broader and say that, for the most part … we didn’t really hear too many stories about conflicts related to religion overall,” added Leavitt. “There were a few examples where the non-Jewish partner had a religious or spiritual practice that they adhered to, but it was something they did on their own and didn’t bring into the household.”

Both Kim and Leavitt said the findings were representative of their own Jewish-Asian mix. “Judaism, for me, is a religion and a cultural tradition that is easier for me to instil in my family,” said Kim. “I, as a second-generation child of an immigrant family, did not grow up with a lot of Korean ethnic and cultural traditions.

“Through the adult kids [in the study], it was reinforced repeatedly that you have to expose [them to the culture], no matter what your comfort level as a parent, no matter your knowledge as a parent. The kids really appreciated when the parents went all out in terms of trying to expose them to a particular culture or ethnicity, though they themselves as parents were afraid they might not do it right.

“So, I think just hearing from the kids and imagining my own kids in 10 to 15 years was kind of affirming to me, [that I just need to] try as much as I possibly can. The kids will end up picking up things here and there and will then, on their own, become curious and want to learn on their own. That was reassuring for me.”

“I had a lot of the same reactions,” said Leavitt. “For me, when Helen and I decided to make a commitment to this project, it was fairly close in time to when we were also starting to think about having our own family. When we got this investigation underway, our son Ari arrived. As a first-time parent, I had a lot of worry and anxiety about a household that seemed to combine so many different kinds of traditions, cultural heritage markers and, to some extent, religious differences. I think I had a lot of worry about the ability of all those things to be in a household together … in part, because I didn’t have an upbringing where there were lots of differences within the household. So, I had a lot of fear about that.

“One of the things I’ve been liberated by, in working on this project and having two children arrive, is there is a lot of flexibility and resilience in households. Where even something may seem like a long list of differences, the people inside that household are able to find ways where things can come from different directions, but meet at the same point.”

Kim is excited about coming to Vancouver, especially to have the opportunity to speak with a non-American audience, “to understand how it is that they think about these different dimensions of identity, tradition, culture and religion, as a way of getting out of our predominantly U.S.-focused lens. I’m really looking forward to that comparative perspective.”

Leavitt said, “I think the chance to be in as diverse, global and multicultural a city as Vancouver … maybe there are lots of households coming together with this mix of Jewish-Asian backgrounds in Vancouver. I think this may propel us to continue researching more in this international comparative way.

“Helen and I feel very fortunate to have been working on this project at a time in the U.S. when the exploration about the diversity of the Jewish community in our country is really something that is front of mind for so many congregations, synagogues. We aren’t the same people we were years ago.”

“If we are acknowledging that this is what American Judaism looks like,” added Kim, “what then is the responsibility we have in regards to action based on the changes in the demographic and how do we act based on how we’ve changed?”

Kim and Leavitt are on a panel with Daniel Kalla on Nov. 28, 6 p.m., at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. For more information, visit jccgv.com/content/jewish-book-fest.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Okanagan’s New Year

The Okanagan Jewish community celebrated the High Holidays with spiritual leaders Rabbi Larry Seidman and Rabbi Linda Seidman from California officiating at the services. The husband-wife team had prepared special pamphlets for everyone in the community to be able to participate.

There was an erev Rosh Hashanah service on Oct. 2, as well as morning services the next day, which were followed by a potluck luncheon. For Yom Kippur, there were also two services, with Kol Nidre on the erev and a day-full of services on Oct. 12, which included a discussion period, Yizkor and a break-fast potluck.

The services were all well-attended and Rabbis Larry and Linda were warmly welcomed to Kelowna and to the celebrations.

Rabbi Larry has a background in research and management, encompassing communications, satellites, aerospace, wind energy and telemedicine. He holds many degrees, as well as being skilled in engineering and management, and has been sought after for presentations. He has given talks around the world.

Throughout his career, he has been dedicated to Jewish practice and study, having served as a lay leader of minyans and Torah study groups, and has continued to pursue both formal and informal Jewish education. A few years ago, he retired from his position as a senior manager in Phantom Works, the research and development organization of the Boeing Company, which has allowed him to increase his engagement in Jewish activities.

He was ordained as a rabbi by the Academy for Jewish Religion, in California, and is a member of the Southern California Board of Rabbis. His practice is dedicated to being a rabbi who combines Jewish tradition with modern thought.

A 2010 ordinee, Rabbi Linda currently serves as a prison chaplain in Orange County, Calif. Donning her uniform and bullet-proof vest, Rabbi Linda, who is certified as a deputy chaplain, works with the county jails, offering counseling and other services to 80 or 90 people per month. “If anybody had told me 10 years ago, when I was an aerospace engineer, that I would be doing this, I would have said ‘in your dreams,’ but life takes funny turns,” she said.

Admitting that she failed at retirement, she said she became interested in the Academy for Jewish Religion, which is a non-denominational rabbinical school, when she heard that it offered a part-time program. She enrolled a year after her husband. Today, in addition to the jail chaplaincy, she serves as the chaplain at a hospice, performs an occasional funeral and leads services and Bible study at a senior living facility.

Rabbi Linda believes that there is “a tremendous amount of security in knowing what to do and when to do it,” and that traditional Judaism meets the needs of some people who are happy and comfortable with their roles. But, she feels that women bring another approach to Judaism. “We see things differently than men,” she said. In other areas, however, such as women’s health and children’s issues, “our concerns are rooted in same values, and there is plenty to unite us.”

* * *

In other recent OJC news, one of the community’s newer members, Philippe Richer-Lafleche, became a bar mitzvah on Oct. 15. Not having had the opportunity to have a bar mitzvah when he was a boy, Richer-Lafleche had looked forward to the special day, which took place after many months of studying under the guidance of OJC’s religious chair, Evan Orloff. The services were followed by a potluck lunch, which included dishes provided by Richer-Lafleche.

* * *

Finally, OJC celebrated Sukkot on Oct. 17 with a mixture of 60 adults and children in attendance. The rains dispersed and the ground dried so that everyone could enjoy the experience of building and decorating the sukkah.

A special thank you to Natasha for organizing crafts, and to the parents who helped construct the sukkah without the help of Google or Siri. The construction was followed by a potluck inclusive of pizza cooked by one of the OJC Golf Classic food sponsors, Mr. Mozzarella Pizza and Wings.

* * *

The Okanagan Jewish Community Centre’s mission “is to work towards building a strong and unified Jewish community in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia. The OJCC encourages an inclusive atmosphere of understanding and respect amongst Jews of different backgrounds, and maintains cooperative relationships with other regional and national Jewish community organizations. The OJCC also aims to promote a positive and active relationship with the Okanagan community at large.”

Unique rabbinical road

Sandra Lawson is studying at Reconstructionist Rabbinical College. (photo from Sandra Lawson)

Sandra Lawson, an African-American lesbian who converted to Judaism after being raised in a secular home, is now studying to be a rabbi at Reconstructionist Rabbinical College, in Wyncote, Penn.

Born in St. Louis, Mo., Lawson’s dad was in the military, so the family moved around a lot, though mainly stayed in the Midwest. Her dad was a military recruiter and career counselor.

“My dad was raised a Christian, but I really had no religious upbringing when I was a child,” Lawson told the Independent. “I knew about Jesus, and we would occasionally get invited to church, but there really was no religion in our house.

“On my mom’s side, we had a back story of an ancestor who was Jewish. Like folklore, it really meant very little to me until I started on this Jewish path myself.”

This path began when Lawson was an undergraduate student and needed another class to graduate. The only course available at the time was one on the Hebrew Bible, which Christians refer to as the Old Testament. The teacher was a Christian academic from Kenya.

“When I got to the class, the teacher told everyone they needed to get a Bible for the class,” said Lawson. “But, he said to not get a King James version, as, he said, it’s a bad translation.

“This class opened my mind a little bit to the Bible as a piece of literature. He made the Bible acceptable for me. It wasn’t a book to be feared. Years later, I have a Jewish girlfriend and her sister invites me for Shabbat dinner. I thought, I like this. It’s really cool. I shared with my girlfriend at the time that an early ancestor was Jewish, but that I know nothing about Judaism.”

From that first Shabbat dinner, Lawson went to her girlfriend’s family home every Friday night.

“They weren’t Orthodox,” said Lawson. “They were just a modern family that would stop everything for Shabbat. It was really cool. I loved the ritual. I loved how open the family was. I loved how they accepted and treated me.”

Around this time, Lawson met Rabbi Joshua Lesser of the Reconstructionist Congregation Bet Haverim in Atlanta. Lesser hired Lawson as his personal trainer and, over the course of the two or three years she worked in that capacity, their friendship evolved and he invited her to his shul.

“I was hesitant,” admitted Lawson. “I shared with him the story of my great-grandfather. Eventually, I did go and I fell in love with the community – not necessarily Judaism, at the time – but I loved the community. That’s how I got interested.

“I started going to services regularly. The community has straight people, gay people and kids but, mostly, it is a space where I felt like I could be myself – something I’d never experienced before in a religious community.”

Lawson went on to learn more about Judaism and, in 2003, she told Lesser she was thinking about converting. In the conversion classes she took, the teacher helped her see a broader view of Judaism.

“I loved the class,” said Lawson. “I loved learning about the Jewish calendar and reading the Bible again, as a piece of literature. I loved learning about Jewish history.”

After about a year of studies, the class was over. And, on Oct. 13, 2006 – the day before her 35th birthday – she converted to Judaism.

Lesser asked Lawson to be a congregational representative on the board for the gay members of the synagogue. A year later, when gay marriage was a hot topic in the presidential election debate, Lawson took her stance a bit further.

“It was sort of funny, because I didn’t know anyone in my gay life who was even thinking about trying to change marriage laws,” she said. “We were all just happy that we could be legally gay. Josh [Lesser] asked if I wanted to join the gay and lesbian task force, as they were coming to Atlanta to do some training. I was like, sure. And he’s like, the good thing about it is, they need more diversity. They need more black and brown voices on these issues.”

Lawson later joined a clergy-based group working on the issue. This group, according to Lawson, was all over the map as far as sexual orientation and most everything. But, what they did agree on was that the state had no business legislating what you did behind your own closed doors.

“The more I started to do volunteer work, the more I realized I wanted to have a more powerful effect, more ability to effect change … that I would need the title of rabbi … and here we are today, as I work on becoming one,” said Lawson.

“Obviously, I’m different. There aren’t a lot of rabbis that look like me. I think being on the edge of the fringes of Judaism allows me to be more flexible or more creative in the things I do.”

One of the required classes that Lawson took last year was on entrepreneurship and thinking outside of the box. During that time, she was approached by the Jewish owner of a local vegan café she went to often, asking if she would be willing to lead services at the café on Friday evenings.

“I went back to class and told my teacher about it,” said Lawson. “I wrote it up as a grant … so I had the grant to lead services at this Lansdale café (outside Philadelphia).”

They have been running services at the café for months now. Every Friday, Lawson shows up with two vegan challot and grape juice. Arnold (the café owner) sets up the place and invites friends and customers to stay for the service.

“Every time, we’ve had at least a minyan,” said Lawson. “It’s been a lot of fun. People can show up as they are, with their sandals, their shorts. We sing. We do a little Torah and welcome the Shabbat.

“People come because they want to see what’s happening in the café … I think it was last week, Arnold had a flautist there, and people came to hear this guy play the flute. Also, I think, in May, there was a couple there who were not Jewish, but they had been taking a Christian class on Judaism. The class was finished, they saw this service and came to learn more about Judaism.”

Next on Lawson’s mind is leading services outside. “I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off yet,” she said. “Right now, I’m in this stage of trying to get a lot of buzz around different ways that people can do Shabbat.

“My dream, I don’t know when it will happen, is to have a Shabbat morning service in the future, in a park. I’m someone who, I see God in nature a lot. To be running in the woods, when the sun is coming up, is the best way for me to pray in the morning. I know a lot of people could connect their Judaism to nature. I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but I hope to.”

Lawson is set to graduate rabbinical school in 2018.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.