The many joys of connection

By fostering human connection, creativity and a love for the outdoors, Camp Hatikvah teaches children that true joy doesn’t come from likes or notifications – it comes from experiences shared with others. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)

In today’s fast-paced world, it can feel almost impossible to escape technology. Smartphones, tablets and social media have woven themselves into the fabric of daily life, often at the expense of face-to-face interaction and genuine connection. But, at Camp Hatikvah, campers are given the opportunity to disconnect from devices and reconnect with life’s simpler joys.

The camp has a no-technology policy for all its campers. This means that, for the entirety of their stay at camp, campers are completely unplugged so that they can engage with the world around them – through creativity, camaraderie and the kind of joy that is so often lost in the digital age.

For many of today’s youth, the idea of unplugging might seem daunting. Devices have become more than tools; they’re sources of entertainment, connection, and even identity. At Camp Hatikvah, however, the absence of screens doesn’t feel like a loss – campers quickly discover the delights of old-fashioned fun.

“It’s a precious gift to witness children simply at play,” said Liza Rozen-Delman, the camp’s executive director. “When they’re not tethered to screens, you see their imaginations come alive. They’re dancing, creating skits, and laughing in ways that feel so genuine. It’s the kind of joy you rarely see any more in the city.”

photo - Camp Hatikvah has a technology-free approach
Camp Hatikvah has a technology-free approach. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)

These moments of unstructured play do more than just fill the hours; they foster skills that are crucial for a child’s development. Imagination, problem-solving and cooperation flourish in an environment where kids are free to create their own fun. Campers learn to navigate group dynamics, work through challenges and take pride in shared accomplishments.

One of the most profound benefits of Camp Hatikvah’s technology-free policy is the way it nurtures genuine relationships. Without the distractions of social media, campers are fully present for one another. They form bonds over shared adventures, whether it’s paddling across the lake, tackling a team-building challenge, or simply sitting together under a star-filled sky.

The mental health challenges facing today’s youth are unprecedented. Studies have linked the overuse of technology to increased anxiety, depression and feelings of isolation. Camp Hatikvah offers a much-needed antidote: a space where kids can breathe, laugh and simply be themselves.

“Away from screens, there’s a noticeable shift in the kids,” said Eden Gutterman, associate director. “They start to relax. They’re more in tune with their surroundings and with each other. It’s like they’re rediscovering what it means to just be a kid.”

photo - Moments of unstructured play foster skills that are crucial for a child’s development
Moments of unstructured play foster skills that are crucial for a child’s development. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)

The benefits of Camp Hatikvah’s technology-free approach aren’t limited to the children who attend. Parents also appreciate the impact of the camp’s philosophy. For many, it’s a relief to know their children are spending time away from screens and social media, engaging in activities that promote health and happiness.

“At the end of the day, what we’re giving these kids isn’t just a summer at camp – it’s a gift that will stay with them for the rest of their lives,” said Rozen-Delman. “The friendships they make, the confidence they build and the memories they create – those are the things that matter. And none of it requires a screen.”

Life’s most meaningful moments often happen when we set aside our screens and fully immerse ourselves in the present. By fostering human connection, creativity and a love for the outdoors, Camp Hatikvah teaches children that true joy doesn’t come from likes or notifications – it comes from experiences shared with others. In an increasingly digital world, the lessons learned at the camp are not just refreshing – they’re transformative, equipping campers with the tools to lead more balanced, connected and fulfilling lives long after summer ends.

For more information, visit camphatikvah.com. 

– Courtesy Camp Hatikvah

Six benefits of Jewish camp

Jewish summer camps fuse the activities, friendships and communal life of traditional camps with Jewish values, role models and culture. (photo from Camp Kalsman)

Whether camping season has just ended or it’s the middle of winter, it’s never too early to begin thinking about Jewish summer camp for the young people in your life. Jewish summer camps fuse the activities, friendships and communal life of traditional camps with Jewish values, role models and culture. This uniquely immersive experience provides a confidence-building opportunity in which campers experience joy and discovery in a communal Jewish setting. 

The top six reasons parents, bubbes and zaydes everywhere are sending their kids to Jewish camp are:

1. Kid-centred Judaism

Kids are empowered to contribute to and lead their Jewish community at camp. From services, to music, to hands-on learning, the developmental and social-emotional needs of campers come first, and opportunities exist for campers to take the lead in these experiences. This is a uniquely powerful experience they won’t find anywhere else.

According to the 2023 article “Why Camp Works: Explanations Later” by Rabbi Daniel Greyber on ejewishphilanthropy.com, research shows that “camp attendance makes adults 30% more likely to donate to a Jewish charity, 37% more likely to light Shabbat candles, 45% more likely to attend synagogue monthly or more; and 55% more likely to be very emotionally attached to Israel. But why does camp work? One reason may be that explanations about Judaism take a backseat.” He writes that “Judaism cannot be transmitted through classes and scholarship alone, or even primarily. There is no substitute for doing.”

photo - Kids are empowered to contribute to and lead their Jewish community at camp
Kids are empowered to contribute to and lead their Jewish community at camp. (photo from Camp Kalsman)

2. Camp friendships last beyond the summer

After the laundry has been washed and the camp trunk put away, friendships endure. The intensity of the shared experience and communal living of camp expedites and deepens relationships. Camp is one easy entry point into a lifelong Jewish community. As kids grow, opportunities arise to increase their connections with Jewish peers through congregational and national youth groups, Israel travel, social justice programs, and much, much more. Many alumni of Jewish camp have found that the friends they make during the summer stick with them through college, young adulthood, and beyond.

3. An immersive Jewish community

Campers live in Jewish time; they are exposed to adult Jewish role models, Jewish peers and Jewish friends from different places, as well as the rhythm of Jewish rituals. These Jewish connections are extremely powerful. Campers experience joy in a Jewish community, develop confidence in their Jewish identity and forge long-lasting connections. Nowhere else do campers have the opportunity to experience Judaism infused into daily life and reinforced by a community of Jewish peers.

4. Camp ends, but Jewish community continues

Children who attend Jewish summer camp are more likely to identify as Jewish adults and actively engage with their communities. The experience of living in an immersive Jewish community has a deep and profound impact, which lasts into adulthood.

photo - After the laundry has been washed and the camp trunk put away, friendships endure
After the laundry has been washed and the camp trunk put away, friendships endure. (photo from Camp Kalsman)

5. Jewish camp addresses the whole camper

Children learn confidence, skill-building and socialization by living in a community. They learn how to operate in a diverse group of peers, face new situations and overcome challenges on a daily basis. At camp, adult role models and mentors create safe spaces for campers to grapple with complex ideas based in Jewish values, texts and traditions – topics that secular schools and camps might not be able to address. Camp can provide balance by creating space for spiritual, emotional and physical growth for campers.

6. Camp helps kids succeed

Camp is all about fun and real-world learning. Campers who return to camp as staff members can create opportunities to advance themselves professionally. Many staff from Jewish summer camps have found that their experiences have helped them jumpstart their careers, establish their college networks and meet new people. 

A longer version of this article appears on reformjudaism.org, the website of the Union for Reform Judaism. URJ Camp Kalsman, located in Arlington, Wash., serves 600-plus campers ages 7-17 from Western Canada and the Pacific Northwest every summer. For more information, visit campkalsman.org or email campkalsman@urj.org.

Hear from Wexner scholars

photo - Sefaria’s Sara Tillinger Wolkenfeld speaks Dec. 15 and Jan. 12, as part of Our Story, Our Heritage: A Speaker Series with Wexner Scholars
Sefaria’s Sara Tillinger Wolkenfeld speaks Dec. 15 and Jan. 12, as part of Our Story, Our Heritage: A Speaker Series with Wexner Scholars. (photo from facebook.com/thejewishnetwork)

Our Story, Our Heritage: A Speaker Series with Wexner Scholars launched here in September. It features top Jewish educators from across North America who teach in the two-year Wexner Heritage Program, which focuses on Jewish learning and leadership training. While in Vancouver, the scholars give a talk that is open to the public, and also hold learning sessions with the local Wexner cohort, a diverse group of young local community members set to steer the community. 

The speaker series began Sept. 22 with Yonatan Cohen, the rabbi of Congregation Beth Israel in Berkeley, Calif., and a senior fellow at the Shalom Hartman Institute. His talk, titled Our Texts in Tense Times, offered insights into Jewish texts that help frame recent experiences, particularly as the first anniversary of Oct. 7 approached. 

Cohen spoke again on Nov. 17, giving a lecture called Agree to Disagree: The Seeds of Jewish Pluralism Revealed in Talmudic Debate. In it, using classic cases from the Talmud that elucidate the rabbinic approach to makhloket (debate or dispute), he considered how the rabbinic tradition distinguishes between “ultimate truth” and “public policy,” and how ancient texts might help guide the way one operates in a contemporary pluralistic Jewish community.

Next up on the Wexner speaker circuit is Sara Tillinger Wolkenfeld, chief learning officer at Sefaria, the free online library of Jewish texts, on Dec. 15. Her topic will investigate how ancient wisdom might offer insights into navigating the realities of social media. Wolkenfeld will return on Jan. 12 to examine tikkun olam, repair of the world, what it means and why it is important.

An alumna of the David Hartman Centre at the Hartman Institute of North America, Wolkenfeld also serves as scholar-in-residence at Ohev Sholom Congregation in Washington, DC. Her current research and writing focus is on the intersection between Jewish ethics and technological advancements. 

photo - Dr. David Shyovitz, a professor of history and Jewish studies at Northwestern University, gives online talks Feb. 9 and March 2
Dr. David Shyovitz, a professor of history and Jewish studies at Northwestern University, gives online talks Feb. 9 and March 2. (photo from from davidshyovitz.com)

Dr. David Shyovitz, a professor of history and Jewish studies at Northwestern University, will talk on Feb. 9 and March 2. His first lecture will look at Jews and Muslims from an historical perspective. His second asks, “Has there ever been a ‘Judeo-Christian’ tradition?” and digs into what the registration page for the talk describes as “an uneasy alliance.”

“Obviously, these are both very big and complex topics, so there is no way we will do either of them justice fully,” Shyovitz told the Independent. “But they are also topics about which many people have limited knowledge or dramatically oversimplified assumptions, so the goal will be to share some interesting ideas and sources and give participants a glimpse of the rich and nuanced history of inter-religious relations.”

Rabbi Dr. Tali Zelkowicz, director of curriculum and research at the Wexner Foundation, is slated to speak on March 16. She will revisit a debate in Jewish education.

photo - The Wexner Foundation’s Rabbi Dr. Tali Zelkowicz, speaks on Jewish education on March 16
The Wexner Foundation’s Rabbi Dr. Tali Zelkowicz, speaks on Jewish education on March 16. (photo from Wexner Foundation)

“It has become a widely accepted fact that, across every age and stage, the field of Jewish education has split between the sub-fields of so-called ‘formal’ versus ‘informal’ (also known as ‘experiential’ education) or, alternatively, between ‘education’ versus ‘engagement,’” Zelkowicz said. “But how did we get to this default assumption, and is it helping us?”

By taking a closer look at assumptions about how learning works in Jewish life, Zelkowicz hopes to show how we are mired in what she sees as a “nonsensical debate” around which kind of learning setting is most needed or effective in Jewish life while avoiding the much more important question, what counts as great learning? 

Devin E. Naar, a professor of history and Jewish studies at the University of Washington, winds up the series with lectures on March 30 and June 2. His first will study the formation of Sephardi Jewish communities in the Ottoman Empire.

“This lecture traces the trans-Mediterranean journey of the exiled Spanish Jews to the sultan’s realm and the cultural and political dynamics that shaped the communities they created and developed over the subsequent centuries. In short, it explores how the descendants of Spanish Jews eventually became Ottoman Jews, and the implications of those transformations today,” Naar told the Independent.

photo - Devin E. Naar of the University of Washington winds up the Wexner series with lectures on March 30 and June 2
Devin E. Naar of the University of Washington winds up the Wexner series with lectures on March 30 and June 2. (photo from University of Washington)

Naar’s second session will probe how the history of Middle East Jews might change the perception of Israel.

“This talk moves beyond polemics to delve into the history of the long-standing Jewish presence in the geography that now forms the state of Israel,” he said.

“The talk situates Jewish experiences within the broader framework of the Ottoman Empire (which ruled from 1517-1917) during which Ladino – not Hebrew, Arabic or Yiddish – largely remained the primary Jewish language of Jerusalem,” Naar continued. “The talk also introduces some of the key challenges that Sephardic and Mizrahi Jews confronted with the establishment of the state of Israel. What are the lingering effects of those transformations today?”

The Wexner Heritage Program has returned to Vancouver after a 24-year absence thanks to the support of the Diamond Foundation, the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver and alumni of the first local cohort.

“It was a transformative experience for me. Because of Wexner, I became a better Jewish leader,” said Jonathan Berkowitz, a member of the original cohort, and a former Vancouver Federation president and chair of Federation’s annual campaign. He was an instrumental figure in rebooting the program in Vancouver.

To register for any of the lectures, go to jewishvancouver.com/wexner-speaker-series. 

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Is this your moment?

Rabbi Liz P.G. Hirsch spoke on the topic Just for this Moment: Stepping Up to Lead. (screenshot)

Rabbi Liz P.G. Hirsch kicked off the fifth season of Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s Building Bridges lecture series Nov. 3 with the topic Just for this Moment: Stepping Up to Lead, which drew on her experience and insights into leadership for women, particularly within Reform Judaism.

Hirsch, who hosts the Just For This podcast, is the chief executive officer of Women of Reform Judaism (WRJ), a position she has held since 2023. Started in 1913 as the National Federation of Temple Sisterhoods, WRJ is the women’s affiliate of the Union of Reform Judaism and it represents thousands of women in hundreds of congregations throughout North America.

Now based in Cincinnati, where WRJ was founded, Hirsch spoke about the name of the podcast. The title, Just for This, comes from the point in the Book of Esther when Mordechai tells Esther to reveal her identity and step up to lead: “Who knows, maybe it is just for this moment that you find yourself in a position of leadership.” (Esther 4:14)

In each episode, Hirsch speaks to women who stand out in their field(s) and asks her guests to describe their “just for this moment” or when they found themselves in the right place and time to take on a leadership role. 

Hirsch played excerpts from her podcast to give the Zoom audience an idea of what her program is all about. The first clip was of Abigail Pogrebin, an American writer and the president of Central Synagogue in New York City from 2015 to 2018.

Pogrebin is the author of several books, her latest – It Take Two to Torah: An Orthodox Rabbi and Reform Journalist Discuss and Debate Their Way Through the Five Books of Moses – having been released just this past September. While Pogrebin didn’t provide a specific “Esther moment” that took place in her life, she did say it is something one should think about regularly. She said perhaps the question should be asked instead as, “Where do I have a role to play?” For Pogrebin, her purpose is to be a bridge between the person who knows a lot and the person who is afraid of what they don’t know.  

“There are many smart Jews out there who have an anxiety of ignorance,” she said. “Sometimes people opt out because, though you are a smart person, you don’t want to appear in places because you don’t know the difference between Sukkot and Shavuot.”

Pogrebin addressed the reluctance at times for women to step into leadership roles out of fear of not having enough experience or expertise when, in fact, they do. She praised Hirsch’s podcast for providing female role models, women who confidently and assertively demonstrate their abilities.

A second clip spotlighted an interview with composer, instrumentalist and prayer leader Elana Arian, who delved into the power of connection. She believes that music can allow for people to connect, even in this time when there are so many issues that polarize individuals.

“It is starting to be quite countercultural to go into communities with the express purpose of bringing people together through music,” she said. “It is really not normal these days to get people to sing together to get more connected to faith, so I feel I bring something to this moment that is specific.”

The final segment Hirsch played for the audience came from a discussion with Cochav Elkayam-Levy, a post-doctoral fellow at Hebrew University in Jerusalem who specializes in gender, conflict resolution and peace. She established and leads Israel’s Civil Commission on Oct. 7th Crimes by Hamas Against Women and Children. 

Elkayam-Levy said she felt compelled to do her work, not from bravery but rather that the necessity of the moment called for it. “I wanted to give a voice to the victims and be respectful to their memories,” she said. “I felt that, despite the fact it was difficult, I just felt that this was what I needed to do. That this was my mission.”

Hirsch concluded her talk by saying that “just for this” moments happen for everyone and encouraged listeners to consider when such times have occurred in their lives.

Hirsch was ordained at the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in New York. Among other things, she has been a pulpit rabbi and she was the founding co-chair of Religious Action Centre of Reform Judaism, Massachusetts. She serves on the National Council of Jewish Women’s Rabbis for Repro Rabbinic Advisory Council and played a key role in the 2020 campaign to pass the ROE Act in Massachusetts. A prolific writer on social justice, spiritual practice and trends in Jewish life, Hirsch has contributed chapters to several publications, including The Social Justice Torah Commentary. Her podcast can be heard at justforthispodcast.com.

Victoria’s Kolot Mayim synagogue titled this year’s speakers series Kvell at the Well: Celebrating the Joys of Being Jewish in response to the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas terror attacks on Israel, believing “that it is more important than ever to highlight our proud and strong Jewish culture, history and heritage.”

The series press release also explains the symbolism of a well: “It is the source of life-giving water, a community meeting place and a place for divine revelation. Our goal with this series is to inspire and empower Jews to draw from the well of our collective experience and proudly celebrate (kvell about) our shared identity as a people.”

The second speaker in the series was Rabbi Elyse Goldstein, one of the first female Reform rabbis in Canada, and author of ReVisions: Seeing Torah Through a Feminist Lens, on Dec. 8. On Jan. 12, 11 a.m., Ben Freeman, author of the Jewish Pride trilogy, will discuss his latest book, The Jews: An Indigenous People, set to be released in February, in which he puts forward the position that Jews are unequivocally indigenous to Israel.

To register for any of the series lectures, visit kolotmayimreformtemple.com/2024-25-lecture-series. 

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Approaching final judgment

I know I have sinned. Haven’t we all? How then to achieve redemption when I have this whole mountain of transgressions looming over me? I can see it clearly every time I look in the mirror. Was it Yogi Berra who said, “Don’t look back, they may be gaining on ya”? Well, I do look back, and I do see the mountain of my failings. 

My problem is that I don’t really, really believe that all those things on the pile are so bad. But then I think about “the Judge,” and hope that He is a reasonable entity. Haven’t I all sorts of mitigating circumstances that I could raise to alleviate any judgment? (I know the record in history shouldn’t lead me to be so confident.)

I have read that, in ancient times, He was pretty harsh because He had to be to prove a point. Rules were immutable. Those who erred against His rules were just erased. The earth opened up and swallowed them up. Some were turned to pillars of salt, some swept away by raging waters, impaled on the swords of the righteous who were rewarded, ravaged by plagues or the Angel of Death. All manner of things of a nasty kind were visited upon those who crossed Him. He sure hated to be contradicted.

But Abraham was able to negotiate some matters with Him, and Jacob wrestled with the angel and survived. Job was restored to his honoured state, and Jonah survived his defiance of the Almighty. David was even able to mollify Him in spite of his own heinous crimes, and he retained the honour of having a descendant who would usher in the End of Days.

Surely these are good signs. Why couldn’t I negotiate a soft landing? I have written some poems, like David, and I can’t imagine that my sins approach the gravity of his biggie. What about all my good will, my good intentions, the milk of human kindness that pours from my being – they have to count for something.

OK, obviously I will not be given the right to build the Third Temple in Jerusalem – and I’m not sure that’s a very good idea right about now, anyway. I also will not likely be recognized as a light upon my nation, or any nation. Even though I think some of my doings are worthy and my writings are prophetic and of divine origin. I have tried with all my might to be a hero. (Well, most of the time!) 

I will be happy and satisfied if my grandchildren continue to speak to me, or at least say hello. I accept that mine will be a small life. It took me quite a few years to accept that the best things I ever produced were my children. And a great-grandchild! And I can’t even take all the credit for that.

I was hoping I would accomplish more, but I guess my spirit was too weak and small in size. I was hoping I would make some small mark on the wall of time. Now I would be satisfied if I could point to an unsigned abrasion. That’s how it is when reality sets in and we look around us at all the time that has flown. I ask myself, when is it that I will actually begin to do those world-shaking things that I had inwardly resolved, or foolishly promised, to do?

I will have to be content with the derring-do of my children and grandchildren. And my great-grandchild, the beautiful Shaked! Mayhap they will be blessed with those better elements of DNA that did not find their fruition in what I was able to offer.

I look forward to seeing it all when I have passed the final muster. I know I will have a real negotiating job to do. That may be my finest hour. After all, none of us knows the final outcome. Those with the strongest faith and belief carry forward what is essentially a fervent hope. I can join that congregation. I can look forward to the trial that defines my redemption. I can look forward to viewing the future that will become my children’s past. That is worth fighting for with all the heroic energy I can gather. 

Whether or not the energy I consist of returns to the vast storehouse from which new lives are dispatched, I know that the DNA I leave behind will not be relegated to dead storage. I retain the hope, as do all who came before me, and follow after, that there are redeeming qualities in what I leave behind, whatever my personal fate.

I know that whatever the outcome for me regarding redemption, there will be some part of me that is reincarnated. We are all blessed by that potentiality. What a glorious vision that presents! I shall hope it is not watered down by my sins. I shall hope that my potentials will not suffer from my bull-headed insistence on attempting to negotiate a private treaty of redemption, that they will not be diluted as a punishment. 

Yet, I do still hope to strike a better deal than I deserve for my delays, my prevarications, my impatience with the disciplines of orthodoxy, my confidence that time has tempered the rigidity of Mosaic law. No votes, please – there are so many who would speak out against me and so few to argue in my favour. I confess I have been seduced by the convenience of laxity in the face of strict religious practice.

Perhaps I can find a good lawyer. It is always a great idea to present a good case. I intend to be an active participant in my defence and to energetically press my case. I wonder what the rules are in that court of last resort. I intend to call my children and grandchildren as character witnesses. 

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

Gifts, property and curses

We recently had some work done on our garage. In 2021, when we purchased our new home, which was built in 1913, the inspector marveled at the garage, which was an early, purpose-built building meant for cars as compared to the converted carriage houses nearby.

There are still outbuildings in the neighbourhood, now used for cars or workshops, which contain horse stalls, but our garage, the inspector said, was special. That said, it’s narrow and the floor’s broken. It had the remains of both an old knob and tube electric panel and a chimney. Once, we imagined, a chauffeur warmed the space with the woodstove every winter to keep the car running.

When the contractors who fixed our house so we could live in it came back to work on the garage, things became complicated quickly. It turned out it was not just a couple rotten boards. Long ago, someone had cut important structural supports to put on larger heavier garage doors, likely when cars themselves became larger. A little stabilization project became a multi-week event, complete with new concrete footings all the way around the building and new structural supports. The garage no longer sits at a dangerous tilt. Our kids can go inside without danger.

This expensive project doesn’t mean that we’re suddenly using the garage in Winnipeg this winter. The concrete floor is still broken, the doors are narrow and the whole thing needs a coat of paint. All of those renovations will have to wait, because winter’s here. I’ve just cleaned snow off the car, parking on the street again this morning. This experience was one of those reminders that, in life, unexpected things happen, and that we make the best decisions we can in the moment, and roll with it. 

This brought me to what I’ve been studying in Bava Batra, the talmudic tractate I’ve been studying as part of Daf Yomi (a page of Talmud a day). Lately, what I’ve been learning has to do with death-bed gifts and inheritance. There’s an understanding that, if someone is on their death bed, they can give their property as a gift without the legal formalities that would normally be required. Also, the rabbis rule that, if a person miraculously does not die, their promises and gifts can be retracted. In other words, if you gift everything to your brother on your death bed, but then you don’t die, you can keep your home and fields.

On page 153, there’s a woman who gives away her property as a gift as she’s dying, but, by some miracle, she recovers. She goes to Rava, a wealthy rabbi who headed a school in Babylonia, and asks for her property to be returned. After all, she is still alive and needs her belongings back. But Rava says that the “gift” cannot be returned. His ruling doesn’t align with the rest of the rabbis or the law.

Obviously, this unnamed woman is upset and protests. Rava then has his scribe, Rav Pappa, create a ruling that, on the surface, looks like it’s in this woman’s favour, but references a text that indicates that this woman should just leave, without her property. Rava assumes this woman won’t notice his trickery, but this (unnamed) woman is smart, and angrier than ever.

Left with no other options, the woman in question resorts to a curse. Given the time, roughly 1,670 years ago, curses, amulets and magic were all used, and, in this case, the curse works. The woman curses Rava, says his ship will sink. Rava, somehow trying to trick the curse, soaks all his clothes in water to avoid it. Readers: the curse works, and not the tricks. Rava’s ship goes down. Rava drowns.

Later, medieval commentators wonder why the curse worked. The woman felt angry for good reasons. Rava had robbed her of her property. Rava’s ruling also had shamed her, and it was meant to trick her into leaving. This woman was clearly wronged. Sometimes, when a curse punishes the correct target – the later rabbis conclude a curse has strong power.

Long ago, someone really wronged our property, this garage, when they cut the structural supports. Given how unstable it was, it could have killed someone. Thankfully, no one was on their death bed here and apparently there were no curses. I did wonder whether we were expecting a miracle to fix this historical structure, or whether an expensive demolition was in order. It’s sometimes hard to undo a bad decision, but we were able to afford to repair a bad situation, which was created by someone else’s bad judgment.

People often seek the easiest way out – through tricks or pulling a fast one. Finding the best way forward sometimes means enduring jackhammering, structural work and funding a costly repair. Maybe if we hadn’t asked “our guys” to check out the garage, we wouldn’t have known the danger. Once we did, though, we couldn’t ignore it. Once the garage project started, even though this huge expense wasn’t in the budget, we had to deal with it.  

Hanukkah is coming up. Although our kids will still get treats and gifts, my husband and I will celebrate getting our garage back. Unlike this powerful, smart, unnamed woman who was wronged in Bava Batra, we didn’t lose all our property. We rolled with the unexpected, and now have a safe space, instead of a precarious risk. All this worked out better for us than for that unnamed woman long ago – and we didn’t even have to curse anybody. 

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Hanukkah as a messy middle

Hanukkah reminds us that miracles are possible and that seemingly unwinnable wars can be won. But it also holds lessons about partial victories, imperfect heroes and incomplete belonging.

We tell the story of Hanukkah, in our liturgy and in our songs and in the rituals we use to celebrate the holiday, as the decisive end of a frightening conflict: the good guys win, the bad guys lose, and the Temple is rededicated with Divine imprimatur.

But that is not the full picture of how Hanukkah was experienced in its day: alongside the joy and triumph, there was loss, uncertainty and ongoing strife. This reality of Hanukkah as the messy middle holds lessons of perseverance for us today as we celebrate the holiday while the state of Israel fights a war that could last a long time, and whose outcome is unknown.

Leading up to the victory of Hanukkah, Jews fought one another, heroes died and families mourned, and, as the martyrdom narrative of Hannah and her seven sons describes, civilians made profound sacrifices. It is easy to envision the experiences of people waiting for loved ones to return, of everyday acts of survival and kindness, of the fear experienced by individuals, families and communities. Even the victory of Hanukkah must have been tinged with deep loss.

What’s more, the Hanukkah victory did not end the war between the Seleucid-Greeks and the Maccabees: military campaigns continued for years thereafter. Statecraft was employed as alliances were made and broken; communities dedicated monuments to their fallen heroes, and even the great Judah the Maccabee died in battle. In short, Hanukkah did not decisively conclude the saga. Rather, it marked a crucial milestone amid continued sacrifice and uncertainty about the future. And yet, the Jewish leadership established the holiday to hail a crucial milestone.

image - “The Story of Hanukkah,” by Ori Sherman, 1985
“The Story of Hanukkah,” by Ori Sherman, 1985. (from thecollector.com)

The Book of Maccabees describes a Jewish civil war in relation to Hanukkah. But that does not fully characterize the story of the Judean state that emerged after the war. True, that state (164 – 63 BCE) was rife with intra-Jewish bickering and general divisiveness, whether political, social or religious. However, the majority of Jews in the second and first century BCE did not belong to any sect.

Moreover, Jews who lived in vibrant communities outside of the land of Israel still viewed themselves as the close kin of Jews who lived in the land of Israel: identifying themselves as Jewish by observing Shabbat and the holidays, circumcising their baby boys, keeping dietary laws, and gathering regularly in synagogues to read and interpret their scriptural traditions. What bound all these Jews together was more powerful than what divided them.

The character of Hanukkah as we observe it was most explicitly shaped by a rabbinic establishment living hundreds of years after the Hasmonean period. And though the original Hasmoneans (the Maccabees) were the heroes of Hanukkah, these later rabbis viewed them as flawed. After all, the priestly Hasmoneans took over the throne, combining the priestly and monarchic functions in a way that denied the Davidic dynasty and compromised the separation of religious and political powers. Nonetheless, the courage of the Maccabees continues to inspire the collective Jewish imagination. This conveys the complicated truth that there are no perfect heroes. The people who stand up, and who are willing to take risks and make sacrifices, become the instruments of salvation – regardless of whether the people in their time, or the later sages, agree with all that they stand for.

These three lessons of the Hanukkah story should inform our celebration this year, at the same time as the realities of the war in Israel.

First, let’s appreciate partial redemptions. This includes the reunions that have happened of hostages with their families and the progress made by the Israel Defence Forces in eradicating Hamas. Acknowledging partial victories becomes a source of gratitude, and it equips us with resilience as we forge ahead, despite uncertainty and difficulty.

Second, let’s take seriously the gains we have made in our commitment to Jewish peoplehood. Oct. 7 has drawn the majority of Jews together, despite significant differences among us. We must try to sustain this sense of Jewish peoplehood without imagining that our disagreements will disappear.

And third, let’s accept the current need and ability to work even with flawed leadership. Many who spent the year before Oct. 7 protesting Israel’s current administration have chosen to prioritize the war effort, to focus on defeating Hamas and bringing our hostages home.

As we continue to navigate the messy middle of today’s conflict, may the more complex aspects of Hanukkah and its aftermath inspire within us the hope and faith we need to persevere as a people. 

Dr. Elana Stein Hain is rosh beit midrash and a senior research fellow at the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America. To read more from institute scholars, visit hartman.org.il.

A voice that’s missed

Four years have passed since the loss of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks (1948-2020), and more than one year since the outbreak of the Iron Swords conflict. In these turbulent times, we can only imagine the wisdom that Sacks – who was a global religious leader, philosopher, award-winning author and respected moral voice – might have shared, the guidance he would have offered. His voice is profoundly missed, especially now, when his words could have offered clarity and hope. This longing to “hear” his perspective propelled me on a journey.

image - To Be a Jew book coverTo Be a Jew is a booklet that was born from a deep desire to find meaning in the current historic moment. Distributed freely across the globe, with more than a quarter of a million copies printed in Hebrew and English – and soon to be available in additional languages – it shares the timeless lessons of Rabbi Sacks with all who seek them. Below is a small selection of his enduring wisdom. For the full booklet, available as a free download, visit sivanrahavmeir.com/to-be-a-Jew. 

Growth from crisis

Every tragedy in Jewish history was followed by a new wave of creativity. The destruction of the First Temple led to the renewal of the Torah in the life of the nation, exemplified by the work of Ezra and Nehemiah. The destruction of the Second Temple led to the great works of the oral tradition, Midrash, Mishnah and the two Talmuds. The massacres of Jewish communities in northern Europe during the First Crusade led to the emergence of Hassidei Ashkenaz, the German-Jewish pietists. 

The medieval encounter with Christianity led to a renewal of Bible commentary. The meeting with Islam inspired a renaissance of Jewish philosophy. The Spanish Expulsion was followed by the mystical revival in Safed in the 16th century. The greatest catastrophe of all led to the greatest rebirth: a mere three years after standing eyeball to eyeball with the angel of death at Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen and Treblinka, the Jewish people responded by their greatest collective affirmation of life in 2,000 years, with the proclamation of the state of Israel.… Jews [do not] give way to defeat or despair. They are the people of hope.

The Chinese ideogram for “crisis” also means “opportunity.” Perhaps that is why Chinese civilization has survived for so long. Hebrew, however, is more hopeful still. The word for crisis, mashber, also means a “childbirth chair.” The Jewish reflex is to see difficult times as birth pangs. Something new is being born.

(Sacks, Future Tense, pp. 54-55)

Response to terrorism

The first prime minister of Israel, David Ben-Gurion, said, “In Israel, to be a realist you have to believe in miracles.” For Jews, faith is as necessary as life itself. Without it, the Jewish people would simply not have survived. 

In 2001, after the Oslo peace process had broken down and the suicide bombings had begun, I told the then-Israeli ambassador: “In the past, Israel’s enemies have tried to put it in a military crisis and failed. Then they tried to put it in a political crisis and failed. Now they are about to put it in a spiritual crisis, and they may succeed.” 

That, ultimately, is what 21st-century terror is about, and Israel has been its most consistent target. The suicide bombings brought war from the battlefront to the buses of Haifa, the shops of Tel Aviv and the restaurants of Jerusalem. There were times when Jewish parents sent their children on the school bus not knowing whether they would see them alive again. The missiles of Hezbollah and Hamas placed two-thirds of Israel – the north and south – within their range. As I write, there are 7-year-old children in Sderot who have only known safety in a bomb shelter. The delegitimization of Israel among some media, academic and NGO circles has left its people feeling abandoned and alone. The aim is to intimidate and create despair, and it needs immense resources of faith and courage not to be affected. That is the spiritual crisis.

(Sacks, Future Tense, pp. 18-19)

Where is man?

When I first stood at Auschwitz-Birkenau, the question that haunted me was not, “Where was God?” God was in the command, “You shall not murder.” God was in the words, “You shall not oppress the stranger.” God was saying to humanity, “Your brother’s blood is crying to Me from the ground.” God did not stop the first humans eating forbidden fruit. He did not stop Cain committing murder. He did not stop the Egyptians enslaving the Israelites. God does not save us from ourselves. That, according to the Talmud, is why creating man was such a risk that the angels advised against it. The question that haunts me after the Holocaust, as it does today in this new age of chaos, is “Where is man?” 

(Sacks, Judaism’s Life-Changing Ideas, p. 7)

Everything has purpose

Life is meaningful. We are not mere accidents of matter, generated by a universe that came into being for no reason and will one day, for no reason, cease to be. We are here because a loving God brought the universe, and life, and us, into existence – a God who knows our fears, hears our prayers, believes in us more than we believe in ourselves, who forgives us when we fail, lifts us when we fall and gives us the strength to overcome despair. The historian Paul Johnson once wrote: “No people has ever insisted more firmly than the Jews that history has a purpose and humanity a destiny.” 

(Sacks, Ceremony & Celebration, p. 22)

Everyone has a mission

God enters our lives as a call from the future. It is as if we hear him beckoning to us from the far horizon of time, urging us to take a journey and undertake a task that, in ways we cannot fully understand, we were created for. That is the meaning of the word vocation, literally “a calling,” a mission, a task to which we are summoned.

We are not here by accident. We are here because God wanted us to be, and because there is a task we were meant to fulfil. Discovering what that is, is not easy, and often takes many years and false starts.

(Sacks, Studies in Spirituality, p. 24) 

Sivan Rahav-Meir is a primetime news anchor who lives in Jerusalem. She has a weekly podcast on Tablet, called Sivan Says, and has published several books in English. Her “Daily Thought” on social media has hundreds of thousands of followers and is translated into 17 languages.

Join Pacific Theatre in Shire

Peter Carlone, left, and Tim Carlson in Pacific Theatre’s production of The Hobbit (photo by Chelsey Stuyt)

Need a break from reality? On now at Pacific Theatre is The Hobbit, based on JRR Tolkien’s book, with all its adventure, wizardry, fantastical creatures, and more. The tale is brought to life by two actors “and a dragon’s hoard of theatre magic.”

A world premiere, Pacific Theatre’s The Hobbit was adapted by Kim Selody, with additional dialogue by Tim Carlson and Peter Carlone, the two actors who play multiple characters in the production. The Jewish Independent spoke with stage manager Julia Lank before the show opened on Nov. 15.

“We’re less than a week into rehearsal and already our performers, Tim and Peter, have made me tear up laughing with their creative solutions,” said Lank when asked what her most fun problem-solving moment had been so far. “Telling a story designed for dozens of characters with just two actors poses obvious challenges, and the entire team – including our designers – have jumped in with both feet,” she said. “The room is incredibly playful (this morning we were testing out rolling beer can ‘barrels’ down the aisles of the theatre) and our director, Laura [McLean] is also keeping the magic and wonder of Middle Earth at the forefront. The show is going to be full of surprises, and it feels great to be a part of creating something new together.”

photo - Julia Lank, stage manager of The Hobbit
Julia Lank, stage manager of The Hobbit. (photo from Pacific Theatre)

Lank is a self-taught stage manager, though she does have a degree in film production and worked as a first assistant director for several years, which, she said, is the film world’s equivalent of a stage manager.

“Stage management is one of those niche jobs that won’t be on a high school career counselor’s radar, but it’s perfect for me – a mix of technical theatre magic, caretaking, and lots of spreadsheets,” she said. “If you’re interested in how the theatrical sausage gets made and you’re unflappable, stage management might be for you.”

Lank’s recent credits include other Pacific Theatre (PT) productions (Gramma and The Cake), as well as Tuck Everlasting (Arts Umbrella), On Behalf (Fringe), L’Elisir d’Amore (Burnaby Lyric Opera), Jasper in Deadland (Awkward Stage) and City of Angels (the PIT Collective), among others.

“I worked as PT’s marketing assistant and later marketing director from 2017 to 2023,” she said. “I left last June to pursue stage management full-time, but I consider Pacific a theatre home and love the work and people there dearly. I’m also a self-taught marketer, but it’s easy to advocate for an artistic space when you genuinely believe in the work they’re doing. Many of my favourite theatre experiences, both behind the scenes and as an audience member, have been at PT.”

How she prepares for a new project differs, but, in general, she said, “I like to familiarize myself with the script and score well before a show begins so I can anticipate areas that may need extra support or take more time to come together. The director will be doing this work, too, and you want to be in the best possible position to help them execute their vision. And you definitely don’t want to be in a position where you didn’t realize there was going to be a live goat onstage until the first read.”

A good follow-up question would have been whether Lank was referring to The Hobbit when talking about an acting goat, but the JI missed that opportunity. Instead, we asked about how The Hobbit fits into Pacific Theatre’s aspiration “to delight, provoke and stimulate dialogue by producing theatre that rigorously explores the spiritual aspects of human existence.”

“Tolkien was famously opposed to religious allegorical readings of his work, but the Pacific Theatre community has a fondness for his work that stems from his personal religious background,” explained Lank. “Regardless, if you’re a person of faith or not, I think the values of compassion, the rejection of greed and needless violence in favour of communal care and quiet contentment and imagination in this interpretation of the story make Hobbit a perfect PT show.”

As for Lank, she was raised in the local Jewish community and attends Or Shalom.

“Judaism honours my curiosity and taught me that questioning a system can only improve it,” she said. “My Jewish identity calls me to care for the vulnerable, stand up for communities whose voices have been suppressed, and honour the natural world. It’s very important to me.”

Turning back to less serious matters, Lank said of The Hobbit: “It’s going to be a marvelous, silly, scary adventure – you’ll be very welcome to join us in the Shire.”

The Hobbit runs to Dec. 21 at Pacific Theatre. Performance times are Wednesday-Thursday, 7:30 p.m.; Friday-Saturday, 8 p.m.; and Saturday-Sunday, 2 p.m. For tickets, which start at $20, visit pacifictheatre.org or call 604-731-5518. 

Reflections on being a rabbi

Rabbi Hannah Dresner recently retired as Or Shalom’s spiritual leader. (photo from Or Shalom)

On Nov. 30, the Or Shalom community comes together to celebrate Rabbi Hannah Dresner’s nine years of service to the shul. Dresner retired as Or Shalom’s spiritual leader on Oct. 31. 

Daniel Siegel, one of Or Shalom’s founding rabbis and one of Dresner’s ordaining rabbis, calls her “a gift to the Jewish Renewal movement, Or Shalom and the greater Jewish community.”

The Jewish Independent interviewed Dresner earlier this month.

JI: What were your childhood influences that eventually led you to becoming a spiritual leader?

HD: I grew up in a spiritually oriented home, with my father a close friend and student of Abraham Joshua Heschel and, in his own right, a scholar of Hasidism. I was always attracted to the perspectives of the Hasidic masters, as they were presented to me – centring on holiness to be found in all people, places and things….

My maternal grandfather, a product of German Modern Orthodoxy, although not at all of the Hasidic or Neo-Hasidic milieu, helped to concretize this idea of a sacred physical world by teaching me and my sisters blessings to be recited in all situations – most memorable, the blessings he taught us in his garden as we watched morning glories unfold or picked first raspberries or encountered snails under the soil.

But I did not take this sensibility in a religious direction, rather I became an artist, mining what you might say is a secular devotion to the nexus between matter and spirit. 

JI: Was there a turning point where you knew that you wanted to become a rabbi?

HD: When I had children of my own, I began to recognize the importance of Jewish community and worked to found a lay-led chavurah in which to raise them, creating a spiritual laboratory that allowed for experimentation with modes of prayer and expressions of Jewish ritual. I did not think of this as leading to a professional shift, but, looking back, I was developing the very tools that have allowed me to succeed as a community rabbi. It was over 20 years later that I began to move toward the rabbinate.

There was no turning point, rather, a gravitation toward more and more serious study of the Hasidic masters and toward strengthening and broadening my capacity in areas of meditation, prayer, song practice, and writing on matters of Torah. Next thing I knew, I had morphed my ad hoc studies into matriculation in a rabbinical program that would lead to ordination.

JI: What are some of your happiest memories at Or Shalom?

HD: I will carry with me so many happy memories of Or Shalom, from my delight in teaching students first encountering Judaism, to the inception of our Zusia Bet Midrash, 90 community members studying Talmud led by the head of Svara: The Queer Yeshiva, to decorating our sukkah with plastic recyclables alongside our little ones, experiencing the community’s joy in mastering and singing the wordless melodies of the Hasidim, our Shabbat Soul evenings, to the ovation that followed my sermon for Rosh Hashanah of 5784 – in which I challenged the community to broaden our definition of who is a Jew to accept anyone born to one Jewish parent, regardless of gender. 

What made these memories particularly happy was the collaborations of which they were born, collaborations with so very many Or Shalom members. It has absolutely taken a village.

JI: What were some of your greatest achievements?

HD: Although it was certainly not what I anticipated dedicating myself to, one of our great achievements during my tenure was our handling of the challenges of creating virtual community during COVID. Perhaps it is because of my background in theatre direction and production that this challenge, though certainly daunting and exhausting, was an adversity I was suited to mastering – in collaboration with very talented lay leaders and a score of dedicated volunteers. 

Together, we produced state-of-the-art Zoom services and hybrid High Holiday experiences, in addition to beautifully conceived adult education programming. Some of our most intimate classroom experiences have been virtual and we upped the ante on arts-based programs – from writing workshops and singing circles to studio arts experiences, laptop lids tilted down so that we could see one another’s hands at work.

Arts programming, in general, solidified as a part of the Or Shalom ethos, with art historically-based classes and visual art as response to textual learning, to our Koreh program of readings by Or Shalom writers, to season upon season of our Lights in Winter concert series. The journal e-Jewish Philanthropy has written about our arts focus and Or Shalom.

The revamping of our Gemilut Chesed committee and delivery of care for Or Shalom members needing assistance has been a highlight, including our Nechama program, which offers a listener to a mourner for the 11 months of grieving.

Of course, an achievement is our ratification of all-gender Jewish descent, a step beyond patrilineal descent.

And, as an outgrowth of this achievement, is the inception of our new chevra kadisha, to offer Jewish burial rites to anyone our communal chevra cannot serve. Details of the Or Shalom chevra kadisha will unfold even as I retire.

Perhaps overarching and underlaying all of this has been the success of our Or Shalom Dialogue Project, which, over time, revealed important needs in the community, particularly longings for inclusion, and which has allowed us to converse about difficult subjects, including the variety of our thoughts and feelings regarding Israel and Palestine.

JI: What were some of the challenges? 

HD: COVID was a challenge. The war in the Middle East continues to be a deep and terrible challenge. To some degree, fear of change has been a challenge, although I well understand that resistance to change is an expression of loss – sometimes loss of something precious.

Finances have been a challenge. And space has been a challenge. Now, with our renovation project, Or Shalom will expand to provide offices for all our employees and our first classrooms. It is hard to believe our child, youth and adults programs have been so vital and vibrant without a single dedicated classroom in our building.

JI: What do you see as your lasting influence over the Or Shalom community?

HD: I hope it can be said that I have both deepened and broadened Or Shalom, cultivating brave space for profound experiences and repeatedly looking to our margins to see who else must be embraced, companioned and brought to the centre of community.

JI: What, in life, brings you the most joy?

HD: Song and silence among spiritual friends, making art, knowing people for a long, long time, growing flowers, cooking from the garden, walking in the city and in the forest and in the meadows and on the shore.

JI: Do you have some advice for the Jewish people about getting along in this difficult time? 

HD: My advice for the trying time we live in is to cultivate lack of certainty, to be both curious and courteous, never to let go of joy, folding our sorrows into our joys, and to believe in our powers of restoration and renewal.

JI: Is there anything else you would like to add? 

HD: Have the holy audacity to pull your chair up to the table! If you don’t, decisions that affect you will be made by others.

You can read some of Rabbi Hannah Dresner’s writings at myjewishlearning.com. 

Cassandra Freeman is a journalist and improviser who lives in East Vancouver.