Judaism – Page 63

Nothing beats the experience

Sarah, left, and Amy came back from Jewish camp gushing with the joy of Judaism. (photo from Lauren Kramer)

Come on Mom, let’s bench after dinner tonight!” My 13-year-old daughters are just back from three weeks at Jewish camp and, for the first time ever, they’re suggesting we say birkat hamazon. I try to conceal my shock and pure pleasure and act nonchalant, as if this is something I hear every day. But, inside, my heart is singing. Amy and Sarah have come back gushing with the joy of Judaism, their eyes alight as they describe how much fun they had, especially on Shabbat.

There are lots of stories about dances and boys, of course. At 13, there’s nothing more exciting than having a boy ask you to the dance. Or taking a late night swim in the lake with your cabin-mates and heading to bed at midnight. But it’s the Judaism they celebrated and lived at camp that’s made the strongest impression on my kids. The decade’s worth of seders, Shabbat meals at home, synagogue visits and holiday festivities with their family can’t even come close to leaving them this excited about their Jewish identities.

I’d seen the research about Jewish sleepaway camp and its profound effect on Jewish children. Considered one of the most impactful ways to imbue your child with a strong, proud appreciation of their Yiddishkeit, Jewish camps are prime recipients of funding and scholarships from philanthropic organizations like the Harold Grinspoon Foundation. But, it’s one thing to read the data, and quite another to see your children beaming with positive Jewish energy and making their parents promise they’ll send them back to camp next year.

At Jewish camp, my twins received an intensive Joy of Judaism course, but one devoid of stress or a sense of deliberate learning. Rather, the instruction they received was experiential, conveyed in the chorus of song as kids bench together after meals, sing Jewish songs around the campfire, eat kosher food (and love it!) and gather each morning around the Israeli flag.

My son, now 16, had convinced his sisters to go. “You’ll love it,” he assured them, regaling them with stories of his camp antics. The girls knew they wanted to try it, but at first weren’t convinced they were ready to leave home. One was homesick months before she even boarded the bus at the prospect of being away from Mom, Dad and the comfort of her own bed. As her fears and apprehensions heightened in the weeks before camp, I imagined a series of worst-case scenarios. Camp counselors calling me about my distraught child, tearful conversations over the telephone and the sense of disappointment and failure she’d feel if she left for camp but came home early.

I voiced my concerns to the camp counselors, raising a warning flag that this was a kid they would need to look out for. I sent letters and emails daily and I scrolled through the hundreds of photographs posted online each day, so that worried parents like me could be comforted by the smiling faces of their kids thriving at Jewish camp. Forty-eight hours after they left, I called to check up. “They’re fine,” their counselor reassured me. “They’re having the time of their lives and they’ve not been homesick for a second!”

I knew deep down my girls would have an amazing time, of course. But I forgot how completely Jewish camp can change your perceptions of Judaism – from a religion full of restrictive rules to one that’s filled with meaning, celebration, camaraderie and pride.

No question about it, Jewish camp has changed my girls’ lives.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.

B’nai mitzvah connections

Teens from Temple Sholom’s sister congregation, Tzur Hadassah, in Israel. Rabbi Stacey Blank is on the far right. (photo from Rabbi Dan Moskovitz)

Derech L’Torah is a b’nai mitzvah orientation program currently offered by Temple Sholom, which pairs a group of Vancouver b’nai mitzvah with their Israeli counterparts. The Israeli families come from Tzur Hadassah, Temple Sholom’s sister community just outside of Jerusalem in the pre-1967 territory of the Judean hills. The ongoing dialogue has illuminated both similarities and differences between Israelis and Canadians preparing for the rite of passage.

“In Israel, boys are more often motivated to have bar mitzvahs by social pressure, whereas girls often desire to make a statement,” said Rabbi Dan Moskovitz of Temple Sholom. “They may be motivated by egalitarian, feminist ideals in a culture where the religious sphere is still more dominated by patriarchy.”

Canadian b’nai mitzvah may assume that Israelis will have a substantial leg up on bar or bat mitzvah preparation, but that is not necessarily the case. Canadians may actually have more synagogue experience than their Israeli compatriots, and Israelis find liturgical Hebrew something like Canadians find Shakespearean English.

“Whether Israeli or Canadian, both are going through the gateway of this liminal moment,” said the rabbi, “and both are being immersed in Jewish time and Jewish ritual.”

Among the parents, there are more similarities than differences, said Moskovitz.

In Israel, a bar mitzvah is not “required” for Jewish identity, whereas, in Canada, those who don’t have a bar mitzvah rarely cultivate a strong Jewish identity as they grow up.

“Both sets of parents want their children to be successful, without them feeling too pressured, and, for both, some of them are guiding their children through something they themselves may have walked away from.”

One of the main benefits of the program, said Moskovitz, is the way that it joins together parents of b’nai mitzvah into a cohort to connect with and support each other.

The program starts in the spring of Grade 6 and goes to the fall of Grade 7. Among the Temple Sholom contingent, the students tend to be about one-third from Vancouver Talmud Torah and Richmond Jewish Day School, and most of the rest have a supplementary school background.

The partnership between Temple Sholom and Tzur Hadassah aims to create a vibrant connection between Reform Jews in Canada and Israel and goes beyond the Derech L’Torah program. Visitors to Israel from Temple Sholom have attended Shabbat dinners and synagogue services at Tzur Hadassah, and Temple Sholom supported a community garden project there. Rabbi Stacey Blank of Tzur Hadassah has taught an adult education at Temple Sholom via Skype, and Moskovitz and Blank have published articles in each other’s temple bulletins.

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.

Focusing on the miracle of the oil

For us to become a glowing menorah, casting light in and around us, and lighting up the world, we must be oil-like. (photo from Cinco Resources, Inc.)

The story of Chanukah takes us back to the year 164 BCE, two centuries before the destruction of the Second Holy Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans. Then, Israel was under the rule of the empire of Alexander the Great.

The Greeks, in the year 200 BCE, had a great impact on the civilization of the whole world and the Jewish people. Although the Jewish people were very strong spiritually, they were very weak politically and militarily. The spiritual strength was attributed to the men of the Great Assembly; great sages and their successors, the Tannaim (codifiers of the Mishnah). When Alexander the Great of Macedonia conquered the civilized world, he brought the Greek culture, language, thoughts, beliefs, philosophy, customs and modernization to the masses and these beliefs rapidly spread.

When Alexander conquered Palestine, he gave complete freedom of religion to the Jews. He abolished taxes on the Sabbatical year, when the Jews didn’t work the land. As well, he freed Jewish soldiers from duty on the holy Sabbath. Alexander the Great died at the young age of 33. After his death, Jewish nobility and upper classes began taking on Greek ideas and customs. Would you even guess that the words synagogue and sanhedrin (supreme Jewish court) are Greek words?

Greek culture, aka Hellenism, began to make a serious impact on Jewish life in the Holy Land. The great rabbis of the generation saw the dangers of the Hellenists, threatening the traditions and faith of the Jewish people and the Torah. Hellenists were springing up everywhere.

Eventually, King Antiochus Epiphanes set out to destroy the last remnants of the Jewish people. He decreed the death penalty for any Jew found abiding by the laws of Torah, for observing the Sabbath and holy days, for the reading and teaching of Torah or gathering in houses of prayer. The building of the Beit HaMikdash, the Jewish Holy Temple in Jerusalem, was changed officially into a temple for the highest Greek god, Zeus, and an idol was set up before the holy altar. Altars were also erected for the Olympian gods, and there were heathen altars. The king’s soldiers forced Jews to bring offerings to these idols and bow down to them in the cities.

The study of Torah was not only forbidden, but the Torah scrolls were destroyed and their owners burned at the stake. Parents who circumcised their children were killed and teachers of Torah were tortured for trying to perpetuate the forbidden Jewish religion.

King Antiochus had no idea that his attempt to eradicate the Jewish religion would have just the opposite result. Many Jews became strengthened in their faith. When they came to the city of Modiin, Mattityahu, the father of the Maccabees – named for the verse in Exodus (15:11), “Who is like you of the lords of Israel” – came out and killed a traitor who was offering sacrifices to a Greek god.

His experience inspired many miraculous victories, including the large military victory over the Greeks in the year 3622 (139 BCE). Thereafter, the enemy was cleared out of the land, and Jerusalem and the Holy Temple were liberated. The victorious Jews set out to destroy the idols and altars in the Holy Temple and the golden menorah was replaced with an iron-wrought one. This took place on the 25th of the month of Kislev and the rededication of the Holy Temple lasted for eight days, until more oil could be made and brought to Jerusalem.

One small bottle of olive oil with the high priest’s kosher stamp on it was found, which was just enough to last for one day and yet, miraculously, it lasted for eight days and the entire dedication ceremony, being used to light the menorah again in the Holy Temple daily. The prayer “Al HaNissim” – about the miracles – is recited in the Grace After Meals and also the Amidah prayer during Chanukah and recalls the many miracles that took place.

Judaism and Jewry were undoubtedly saved from one of the greatest dangers that ever threatened the existence of our people. It was a struggle not only of the few over the many, but of the holy versus the unholy and of Judaism and Torah over Hellenism. The forces of the Torah prevailed.

Why do we celebrate so much about the oil? The miracle of the oil would seem of minor significance relative to the military victory of the Jews. Had the Jews been defeated by the Greeks, there would be no Jews today, G-d forbid. If the oil wouldn’t have burned for eight days, the menorah wouldn’t have been kindled. Why then, is the main focus of Chanukah on the oil?

Many insights have been offered. A symbolic explanation follows that shows how oil has the same characteristics as a person. This is based on a letter written by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of blessed memory, before Chanukah 1947.

In writings of Jewish mysticism, all physical properties of an object are seen as continuations of their metaphysical properties. Every object originates in the realm of the spirit, embodied by a particular sublime energy. The energy evolves to assume a physical reincarnation, giving rise to particular physical characteristics that mirror their spiritual source. This is how a person ought to behave in their life. This, parenthetically, constitutes an extremely rich component of Judaism.

From the vantage point of Torah, the truths of science, physics, chemistry, biology, etc., and the truths of philosophy, spirituality and psychology, are merged together in a perfect mosaic, since all that is physical has a realm in the spiritual.

Olive oil contains four interesting qualities:

1. It is produced by crushing and beating ripe olives. The olive must be severely “humbled” and pressed to emit its oil.

2. Olive oil penetrates solid substances deeply – as do many other oils extracted from minerals, plants and animals. We know how difficult it can be to remove oily grease from our fingers and clothes. Oils have been used throughout history as remedies for bodily wounds, since oil penetrates the body far beyond its external tissue.

3. Oil does not mix with other liquids. When you try to mix oil with water, the oil remains distinct and will not dissolve in or combine with the water.

4. Not only will oil not dissolve in water, it rises and floats on top of other liquids. On a symbolic level, this appears paradoxical. Is oil humble or arrogant? It gets beaten badly, yet rises to the top.

These four qualities displayed by oil are essentially a physical manifestation of four spiritual and psychological attributes from where oil originates.

In our lives, we may attempt to become “oil-like.” How? By learning how to cultivate the four properties that characterize oil.

1. The crushing and pressing of the olives into oil represents the notion of humility. Seeing ourselves for who we really are, being open to discovering our biases, blind spots and errors, allows us to genuinely grow.

2. The direct result of this “pressing” is our ability to become oil-like, and affect others deeply. We can share ourselves with others and be in a real relationship. It takes courage to show up in the world with the “real you” and to then connect with other hearts profoundly.

3. Humility and genuine relationships must never allow one to be pulled down completely and dragged down emotionally. One must not forfeit their individual identity. The beauty of a relationship is the fact that two distinct individuals choose to share themselves with each other. Just like oil, you know how to feel and experience another human being meaningfully, while not becoming consumed by the other’s identity.

4. This threefold process of crushing yourself, bonding with others and at the same time retaining your distinctiveness, should ultimately cause you to rise, just like oil, to the top, and “float” above all that is around you. Realizing that you are a “piece of the Divine” (Tanya, Chapter 2) and that every moment you are a representative of G-d to our world, allows a person to experience themselves as indestructible, and wholesome. This comes not from arrogance, but from realizing that one’s soul is part of the infinite.

This is the deeper mystical significance of the miracle that caused the oil to last beyond its one day. It is also why we celebrate with a focus on oil, as this story captures the rhythm of our lives. For us to become a glowing menorah, casting light in and around us, and lighting up the world, we must be oil-like.

First, we must discover the art of humility and integrity; second, we must allow ourselves to show up genuinely in our relationships; third, we must retain our distinctiveness and individuality; and fourth, we must always recognize that part in us which is always “on the top.”

Judaism, particularly its festival of Chanukah, comes to teach ordinary human beings how to become oil-like. If we wish to ignite a heavenly radiance in our lives, we ought to take a good and deep look at the olive oil in our menorahs.

In that sense, oil embodies the essence of Chanukah, the Festival of Lights. Indeed, in many a Jewish household, the Chanukah lamps consist of wicks dipped in olive oil, replicating the Temple menorah lamps. Throughout the holiday, to commemorate the miracle of the oil, we eat various foods cooked in oil, including such delicacies as latkes and sufganiyot.

The following is a story I read recently.

In Brooklyn, N.Y., there was a Jew named Yankel, who owned a bakery. He told the story of how he survived the Holocaust. He said, “You know why it is that I’m alive today? I was just a teenager at the time. We were on a train, in a cattle car, being taken to Auschwitz. Night came and it was freezing, so deathly cold in that cattle car. The Germans would leave the cars on the side of the tracks overnight, sometimes for days on end without any food, and, of course, no blankets to keep us warm.”

Yankel continued, “Sitting next to me was an older Jew – this beloved elderly Jew – from my hometown. I recognized him but had never seen him like this. He was shivering from head to toe and looked terrible. I wrapped my arms around him and began rubbing him to warm him up. I rubbed his arms, legs, face and neck. I begged him to hang on. All night long, I kept the man warm this way. I was tired, freezing cold, my fingers were numb, but I didn’t stop rubbing the heat onto this man’s body. Hours and hours passed this way. Finally, night passed, morning came and the sun began to shine. There was some warmth in the cabin, and then I looked around the car to see some of the other Jews in the car. To my horror, all I could see were frozen bodies, all I could hear was deathly silence.

“Nobody else in the cabin made it through the night – everyone had died from the frost. Only two people survived: the old man and me. The old man survived because somebody kept him warm; I survived because I was warming somebody else.”

Yankel’s life was saved by and for assisting another human being.

When you warm other people’s hearts, you automatically warm yourself. Humans need each other and get elevated by helping and supporting others. When you seek to support, motivate, encourage and inspire others, then you discover support, encouragement and inspiration in your own life as well.

This is the lesson of the olive oil: to penetrate and make a difference in humanity and, in turn, this will empower us to do more, like the light of Chanukah, which increases every night of the festival. Beginning with one candle with its small flicker and increasing every night by adding one more candle, until the menorah shines its eight lights in total splendor and beauty.

May G-d help us celebrate this Chanukah with real peace in Israel and around the globe, and bring us the ultimate refinement of the world with the imminent coming of Mashiach. Then, we will all merit to light our Chanukah lights in the third Holy Temple in Jerusalem, the most beautiful and everlasting one.

Wishing everyone a joyous festival of Chanukah and a fabulous time with family and friends eating delicious latkes and doughnuts, playing dreidel and singing Chanukah songs. Chag sameach!

Esther Tauby is a local educator, writer and counselor. She offers many thanks to her husband, Rabbi Avraham Tauby, for his help with research for this article.

For the love of G-d and man

Our Bible, according to my estimation, tells us repetitively to love G-d. How can we comply with this mandate? I love my wife, kids, a few highly select friends who owe me money, even the cat. And I love lamb chops with garlic and lemon. But my Creator and Judge? There’s an inter-dimensional enigma here. An emotional warp. How can it be?

photo - James Henry Leigh Hunt by Samuel Laurence (1817–1884) — James Henry Leigh Hunt by Samuel Laurence (1817–1884). *(photo from National Portrait Gallery NPG 2508 via Wikimedia Commons)*

Strangely, Leigh Hunt, an English poet who probably never met a Jew, answered the question with a Jewish slant. He was a Londoner who lived 2,000 miles west of Chassidism’s headquarters in Poland. He was an aristocratic Englishman who, unlike his Polish contemporaries, wore a frock coat and did his best work on the Sabbath. He was a good Episcopalian, but somehow saw the world through Jewish eyes. The poet, in an inspired mood, wrote a work of 18 short lines, singing the same love-thy-neighbor theme that’s in our prayer book. Unintentionally, it is a very Jewish poem: an angel alights in the room of Abou Ben Adhem, an exemplary soul who:

“… saw within the moonlight in his room
making it rich like a lily in bloom.
An angel writing in a book of gold
the names of those who love the Lord.”

Abou Ben Adhem, in a flash, sits up in his bed only half-awake, but alert enough to know that his visitor is not his cousin from Cincinnati. Am I in your golden book, he wants to know. (“Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold.”) The angel sadly shakes his head.

But the man with a heart for humanity is not disheartened. “Well,” he says, “put me down as one who loves his fellow man.”

The angel notes the words of Abou Ben Adhem and disappears. Next night, he’s back in the dim bedroom “with a great wakening light” and his fateful list of those who love the Lord. “And lo, Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.”

Loving your fellow man is like loving G-d, an insight initially proclaimed by our Tanach.

I’ve heard it said that the hardest part of being a good Jew is loving your fellow man. Now I didn’t originate that – it’s probably in the Talmud or maybe in the Tanach from some bitter prophet like Jeremiah. But, sadly, it’s true. Didn’t G-d Himself tell us we’re a stiff-necked people? Easy-going, sweet, lovable people don’t cure polio, don’t split the atom and don’t win Nobel prizes. They’re too busy displaying their love. There’s some furnace running in the core of great people that keeps them from election as most popular kid in school or fraternity/sorority presidency. You wouldn’t have enjoyed a beer and a bowl of pretzels with Einstein. Your Uncle Louie was probably much better at small talk.

In all the English vocabulary, the hardest word to define is love. It has no synonym, only antonyms. It thinly communicates when it describes our relationship with our fellow creatures, even the four-legged ones. But it miserably fails to describe our feeling to our Creator, even though I count the mandate more than 150 times in the Tanach.

In nature, love flows down, not up. A river originating in a mountain peak flows down to water the animal and plant life at its base. I’m convinced that parents, especially mothers, love their children more than kids love their parents. Survival of the species demands it. Our limited human understanding comes closest to defining divine love by loving our fellow human creatures. And, while we’re talking about love and G-d and man and English poets, let me remind you of Alexander Pope, another famous English Bard. He’s clearly on my side: “The proper study of mankind is man,” he says. “Presume not G-d to scan,” which to my understanding says the Creator lies beyond our telescopes.

What is love? We understand friendship. We know all about lust. We understand why your heart glows when your wife makes kreplach in chicken soup, your favorite. And even closer to your emotional warmth is the sensation of holding in your arms your newborn child. But words fail when we try to cozy up to the Lord. There is awe, respect and reverence, but love?

I’ve never met anyone who loved G-d and could explain that exotic emotion. It cannot be expressed any more than a fish expresses his love for water, his medium. Maybe the prophets and Leigh Hunt were on to something. Love thy fellow man. That, itself, is an awesome challenge. But may be the only road to the celestial palace.

Ted Roberts is a freelance writer and humorist living in Huntsville, Ala. His website is wonderwordworks.com.

Connecting to a legacy

The inscription in the Tosher Rebbe’s first copy of Kehilat Ya’akov, which recently sold at auction for $4,920 US. (photo from IMP Media Group Ltd.)

Even with the passing of the fourth Tosh Rebbe, Rabbi Meshulam Feish Segal-Lowy II, in 2015, Tosh Chassidut still exists in rural Quebec. The Tosh dynasty was founded in the 1800s and has roots in the Chassidic tradition, tracing their tradition back to the Ba’al Shem Tov.

Last month offered a unique opportunity to connect to the legacy of the Tosher Chassidut. The copy of Kehillat Ya’akov owned and used by the first Tosh Rebbe, Rabbi Meshulam Feish Segal-Lowy I, was available for auction at Kedem Auction House in Jerusalem. It was passed down within his family, and made it to the United States when his great-grandson fled Hungary. At the Nov. 15 auction, the item sold for $4,920 US.

The first Tosher Rebbe was a leading rabbi in the greater Jewish community in Hungary due to his standing in Torah and commitment to helping Jews. A 1966 article in the Canadian Jewish News by Norman Abrahams described the Tosher Rebbe’s dedication to his followers, many of whom were Holocaust survivors who turned to him for guidance: “This great man stays up most of the night fulfiling the many requests for advice and prayer and it is not uncommon to see him eating breakfast, his first meal of the day at five o’clock in the afternoon.”

Born in 1811 in Moravia (part of modern-day Czech Republic), Lowy I gained a reputation for his holiness and ability to perform miracles and became the first Tosh Rebbe, as well as a leading rabbi in Hungary. He received rabbinic ordination from Rebbe David (Spira) of Dynow, one of the leading rabbis of his time.

Although he passed away at 62, the first Tosher Rebbe had enormous impact on Torah Judaism. Lowy I served as rabbi and av beit din (literally, father of the court) of the city of Nyirtass, Hungary, and was known for his commitment to Torah. People came from all over to receive his blessings.

In 1873, a cholera epidemic broke out and killed almost 200,000 people in Hungary alone. The rebbe prayed to be an atonement for the Jews and, after his death, the epidemic did indeed come to an end.

The Tosh dynasty continued after Lowy I’s death, but was almost completely destroyed during the Holocaust. His namesake and great-grandson, Lowy II, was appointed rebbe by the few surviving Chassidim of his father, Rebbe Mordechai Marton Lowy, who was murdered in Auschwitz with most of his extended family.

Lowy II was born in Nyirtass in 1921, managed to survive the Holocaust in the Hungarian Labor Service and was liberated by the Red Army from a camp outside Marghita in October 1944. In 1946, he married Chava Weingarten, a direct descendant of the Noam Elimelech (Rebbe Elimelech Weisblum of Lizhensk). After being appointed rebbe, he set up court in Nyiregyhaza, but, in 1951, fearing the communist government, he ordered his followers to leave Hungary and immigrated to Canada, settling in Montreal.

Committed to maintaining the integrity of the Chassidut that his great-grandfather had started, and concerned about outside influence, in 1963, he decided to move his Chassidim to Boisbriand, Que., a small rural area now known as Kiryas Tosh.

After his death in 2015, Lowy II’s son, Rabbi Elimelech Segal-Lowy, became the next Tosher Rebbe.

The piece of Tosh history that was for sale is also inscribed by the first Tosh Rebbe’s grandson, Rabbi Moshe Shmuel Rottenberg, who received it from his father, Rabbi Yehosef HaLevi, author of Bnei Shileshim.

Bevis Marks 315 years later

The interior of Bevis Marks Synagogue looking towards the ark and with the bima in the left foreground. The ark is made of oak, but painted to look like Italian marble, as are the supports to the ladies gallery. (photo by Edgar Asher)

Britain’s oldest synagogue, Bevis Marks, was built in 1701. Now situated in the heart of London’s Square Mile business district, the synagogue has been in continuous use since its foundation.

In 1655, Rabbi Menasseh ben Israel arrived in London from Holland with a petition to Oliver Cromwell asking that Jews be allowed to once again to settle and live in England and begin to trade – they had been banned from the country some 366 years earlier. In 1656, Cromwell agreed, despite opposition from London merchants.

Jews had been living in England since Roman and Anglo-Saxon times. In 1066, William the Conqueror encouraged Jewish craftsmen and merchants to move to England from northern France. However, in 1290, Jews were banished altogether from England.

Bevis Marks Synagogue was, from its very beginning, an Orthodox congregation set up to serve the Sephardi Jews in the area. The need to build the synagogue came about because of the increase in the Jewish population of the neighborhood and the lack of other synagogues in the area.

photo - The central candelabrum, one of seven that hang in Bevis Marks, was a gift from the community of Amsterdam at the time of its original construction — The central candelabrum, one of seven that hang in Bevis Marks, was a gift from the community of Amsterdam at the time of its original construction. *(photo by Edgar Asher)*

In early 1698, a committee was set up, consisting of the leading Sephardi leaders in the neighborhood to look into the possibility of building a new synagogue to cope with the influx of Jews moving into this part of London. In February 1699, a contract was signed for the building of a new, larger synagogue and, in September 1701, Bevis Marks Synagogue was dedicated. The interior décor, layout and furnishing were based on the design of the main Sephardi synagogue in Amsterdam, which had been completed in 1675. The central candelabrum, one of seven that hang in Bevis Marks, was a gift from the community of Amsterdam at the time of its original construction.

The prominent Renaissance-style ark was painted to look as though it is made of colored Italian marble; in fact, it is surprisingly made entirely of oak. The 12 pillars, representing the 12 tribes of Israel, which support the ladies gallery, are also made of oak and painted to look like Italian marble.

Bevis Marks became the centre of the English Spanish and Portuguese Jewish community and was also the home of the community’s chief rabbis.

Bevis Marks has always been intimately associated with London, so much so that on the eight occasions when a Jewish lord mayor has been elected, Bevis Marks has been the destination of the new lord mayor’s first official duty. It has made no difference if the mayor followed the Sephardi or Ashkenazi rite. Many notable Jews have had association with Bevis Marks, including Moses Montefiore, who was also a big benefactor of the synagogue; prime minister Benjamin Disraeli’s father Isaac; and Daniel Mendoza, who was an English boxing champion in the late 18th century.

Several seats in the synagogue, even today, are roped off with a red cord to be reserved for notable people who have been associated with Bevis Marks. One seat in particular was the reserved seat of Montefiore. Now, this seat is a seat of honor reserved for a distinguished visitor, such as a Jewish lord mayor. In 2001, Prince Charles occupied the seat during the synagogue’s 300th-year commemoration ceremony. In 2006, prime minister Tony Blair was guest of honor at the synagogue during the ceremony marking the 350th anniversary of the resettlement of Jews in England.

London, from a Jewish standpoint, has undergone many changes. Over the years, Bevis Marks, apart from being the flagship synagogue of the Sephardi community in Britain, has had a large catchment area around London’s Square Mile. Two things happened to affect the attendance at the synagogue, however. First, many Jews who had become more affluent moved to other parts of London and, second, the city itself and its financial district were redeveloped from being primarily residential to large office blocks.

Nonetheless, Bevis Marks still managed to hold regular but less well-attended services. At one point, the once proud centre of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews looked like it might become an historic landmark, rather than remain a vital house of prayer. After all, the community itself designated Lauderdale Road Synagogue in northwest London as the community’s administrative headquarters. In addition, the number of British Jews claiming affiliation with any Jewish community organizations fell precipitously over a span of 50 years. Many British synagogues were on the verge of closing down or amalgamating with other synagogues in the same district.

In 1955, there were an estimated 410,000 Jews in the United Kingdom; by the time of the national census in 2001, this figure was down to only 270,000. The question on the census form asked, What denomination do you consider yourself to belong to?

Bevis Marks still attracts many visitors from all over the world, both Jewish and non-Jewish. With a few exceptions, its interior is exactly how it looked some 315 years ago. When all is said and done, the building remains a place to offer up prayer, despite some trouble, in recent times, to gather a minyan of 10 men to hold a prayer service. However, the rebuilding of London’s Square Mile and its surrounding neighborhood has brought new blood to Bevis Marks, as the developments have included up-market expensive homes, particularly in the nearby dockland areas. Young Jewish businesspeople are once again making use of the synagogue and Bevis Marks is secure in its future both as a unique architectural building and an active synagogue.

Figuring out family holidays

Adam Brody played Seth Cohen in the show The O.C. and celebrated “Chrismukkah.” (photo from cookiesandsangria.files.wordpress.com)

If nothing else, The O.C., the popular 2003-07 American television show that featured the overblown dramas of hyper-privileged Orange County teens and their self-obsessed parents, can be credited with making a household name of “Chrismukkah” – the handy portmanteau that character Seth Cohen used to describe his interfaith family’s fusing of Christmas and Chanukah.

With intermarriage on the rise, many Jews in Canada and the United States are partnered or raising children with spouses of Christian backgrounds. Jewish Federations of Canada-United Israel Appeal’s 2011 National Household Survey found that the intermarriage rate in this country is 25%, about half the rate in the United States.

With Christmas being the centrepiece of the Christian calendar in the West – even for the increasing number of North Americans who celebrate Jesus’ birthday only culturally – many intermarried Jews find themselves in a quandary: should they embrace “Chrismukkah,” observe Christmas and Chanukah separately, or focus on creating an exclusively Jewish home by just celebrating the Festival of Lights.

While every family’s situation is different, it seems that many interfaith couples are finding ways to mark both holidays, but with the emphasis on each one’s cultural value.

This lines up with findings from the Pew Research Centre’s 2013 study A Portrait of Jewish Americans, which notes that younger generations of American Jews – 32% among Jewish millennials – often identify themselves as Jewish on the basis of ancestry, ethnicity or culture rather than religion. This matched the broader U.S. public’s shift away from religious affiliation, which is particularly prevalent among those in the 18-to-29 age range.

As for “Chrismukkah,” the Pew report found that about one-third of Jews surveyed said they’d had a Christmas tree in their home the year prior. Among those married to non-Jews, that number was 71%.

Tyler Irving isn’t Jewish, but his wife is, and the couple had their first child last year.

“So far, I’ve found it pretty easy to celebrate both sets of holidays,” he said. “We’ve been thinking about holidays as chances to reflect on culture, spend time with family and build strong bonds, and putting less emphasis on the religious aspects.”

Because Christmas is when they visit Irving’s parents, who live in the country, he expects that his own kids will view Christmas as a time to “be with Grandma and Grandpa,” while Chanukah will be “the chance to go to spend time with Bubbie and Zaide.”

Arielle Piat-Sauvé grew up in Quebec with a Jewish mother and a Catholic father.

“We always celebrated both holidays,” she said. “We went to my dad’s family for Christmas, though we did have a tree and did gifts at our own home. On Chanukah, we’d light the candles and do something with my [maternal] grandma and cousins. When I was younger, I’d get a gift for each night, but that wore off.”

If the two holidays coincided, her family would first light the Chanukah candles and then go to her grandparents’ for Christmas dinner. She stressed that neither holiday celebration focused on their religious components, but tradition and family time.

“Often, it’s easier for families to add than subtract,” said Rabbi Jordan Helfman of Toronto’s Holy Blossom Temple, a Reform synagogue that has among its members quite a few interfaith couples.

Interfaith families with children enrolled in Holy Blossom’s supplementary religious school are asked not to celebrate Christmas in their own homes, but going to a non-Jewish relative’s place for Christmas is OK, Helfman explained.

“My experience is it’s not hard for children to make that distinction, especially when the parents are clear about, ‘This is what we do in our house, and this is what Grandma does in her house.’ Kids are smarter than we give them credit for,” he said.

Rabbi Tina Grimberg of Congregation Darchei Noam, Toronto’s Reconstructionist synagogue, said her congregation has a number of interfaith families, many of whom get involved in the shul’s Chanukah festivities, or who light candles in their own homes.

“Do I go into people’s homes and see Christmas trees? Not often at all. Do trees come up in [interfaith congregants’] homes on Dec. 24? Most likely not … though if people do celebrate both Christmas and Chanukah, they don’t tell me,” she said.

Just because a non-Jewish partner hasn’t converted doesn’t mean Christmas is central in their life, she emphasized. And, ultimately, when addressing interfaith families’ practice of Judaism, there’s a larger conversation at play.

“It’s about how to live life in a Jewish context when you have deep roots in another reality. It’s not about, ‘I’m Jewish because I don’t celebrate Christmas.’ It’s ‘How many Jewish things do I do … do I do Shabbat, go to synagogue, have a seder, do mitzvot, say Shema in the morning?’” she said. “Some people will still have a tree, because it honors their grandma, while others feel they have enough of a rich Jewish life that they no longer need it.”

Rabbi Jillian Cameron is director of the Boston chapter of InterfaithFamily, a U.S. organization that supports interfaith couples exploring Jewish life. It provides families with educational materials and connections to inclusive organizations, programs and local clergy.

She stressed that, while she doesn’t see a single trend with regard to how families led by intermarried couples approach the holidays, at this time of year, many of them are focused on figuring out how to be respectful of both Chanukah and Christmas, whether they celebrate the holidays in their own home or that of an extended family member.

While Christmas can be tough to give up for many who are raised with it, Cameron said, the religious element is secondary to “the family connections, the music, the smells, the tree … there’s a big pull to the sensory nature of Christmas.”

She added that this speaks to the wider trend of younger people finding value in tradition, but focusing on things outside of the theological realm.

While families with one Jewish and one Christian parent observe the holidays at this time of year in all sorts of incarnations, it’s clear that many, as in the general population, are most concerned about preserving tradition and a sense of family togetherness.

– For more national Jewish news, visit cjnews.com

Shabbat Across UBC

Chabad on Campus, student and other volunteers and Shabbat hosts made Shabbat Across UBC on Nov. 18 possible. (photos from Chabad at UBC)

On Nov. 18, more than 75 students celebrated Shabbat with Chabad on Campus at the University of British Columbia but, this time, they only arrived at Chabad after dinner. Instead of hosting the meal at the Chabad House as usual, there were six different dinners hosted by student volunteers in their residence buildings, after which the students met up at Chabad, where they shared dessert and got a chance to know one another.

Rabbi Chalom Loeub, who runs Chabad at UBC with his wife Esti, delivered food and supplies, and the hosts invited their friends and neighbors and ran the meal.

Cordelia Sank is a second-year UBC theatre production student, who volunteered to co-host a dinner in the Fairview Residence block. “Getting the chance to bring together all of the other Jewish students in my residence was very special and inspiring for me,” she said, “and I look forward to attending many more of these dinners in the future.”

The event was a big success, drawing in both seasoned Chabad members and new students, some of whom were experiencing Shabbat for the first time. UBC president Santa J. Ono wrote a letter of congratulation, praising the event as a “wonderful initiative … to build community at UBC.”

Hani Gorgy is a third-year exchange student visiting from Israel, who has attended many Shabbat meals, classes and programs at Chabad on Campus. “I’ve always felt that Shabbat dinner is a time of spiritual joy,” she said. “Being invited to Shabbat dinners here in Vancouver made me feel welcomed and safe. Meeting so many Jewish people here helped me feel like I’m part of the community.”

Weekly Shabbat dinners are only one of the programs that Chabad at UBC offers, including social programs, Torah classes, kosher meals on campus, support and holiday programming for the Jewish community at UBC and other colleges and universities across Vancouver.

The Shabbat Across UBC event was made possible by the sponsorship of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver and the Marine Drive Superstore. Chef Menajem of Forty-One Catering created an impeccable spread, and the student volunteers and Shabbat hosts made this annual event a reality.

For more information about this or other events, contact the Chabad Jewish Student Centre at 778-712-7703, chabadubc@gmail.com or chabadubc.com.

Sydney Switzer is a fourth-year student at Emily Carr University and president of the Chabad Jewish Student Club.

Thousands gather

(photo by Mendel Grossbaum / Chabad.org)

Rabbis dance with their colleagues at a banquet at the Brooklyn Marine Terminal Pier 8 on Nov. 27. They were among the 5,600 rabbis and guests from 90 countries who gathered in New York for the International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Emissaries, an annual event aimed at reviving Jewish awareness and practice around the world. This year’s conference carried added significance, as the North American Jewish community marked 75 years since the Lubavitcher Rebbe – Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, z”l – and his wife, Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, z”l, arrived on U.S. shores from wartorn Europe in 1941. (Courtesy of Chabad.org)

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 becporte@gmail.com.

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.