Levi Varnai

Vancouver to Vienna

The author, Nicole Grubner, and Rabbi Levi Varnai reconnecting at the Yael Awards in Vienna. (photo by Nicole Grubner)

I grew up in West Vancouver, in a home where Jewish life mattered. We celebrated the chagim (holidays), gathered for family Shabbat dinners and went to synagogue. Jewish identity was present, familiar and important. But, when it came to school, the question my parents faced was not about ideology, but practicality.

At the time, I was attending our local public school, which I loved. The Jewish school was at least a 40-minute drive each way, which would reshape daily family life. This was not a small decision.

My parents had both attended Jewish schools – my father in Chile, my mother, in England – so the value was there. And, in the end, belief won.

It was my uncle, Claudio, who ultimately tipped the balance. He didn’t provide a checklist or a plan. As my mother put it, “He just appealed to us, from his heart to ours.”

In Grade 3, my parents moved me from public school to Vancouver Hebrew Academy. That decision marked the true beginning of my Jewish journey.

Once I arrived at VHA, any lingering doubts faded quickly. My parents felt, almost immediately, that they had made the right choice.

Rebbetzin Shayndel Feuerstein z”l didn’t need to convince them that Jewish education was about more than academics; they already knew that. What stood out was how she conducted herself and the seriousness with which she approached educational excellence. She personally traveled to Israel to interview and hand-pick teachers.

The underlying challenge facing the school was not vision or quality; it was financial. Fundraising was a constant reality and, from one school year to the next, there was never complete certainty that there would be enough resources to continue operating.

When I entered VHA, I joined a class filled with children whose lives were just beginning to take shape. One of them was a boy named Levi Varnai. We were classmates for two years, from 1996 to 1998, before I transferred to Vancouver Talmud Torah for Grade 5. A couple of years later, Levi and his family moved to Israel.

Levi went on to study in yeshivot in Israel and New York, receiving smicha (rabbinical ordination) in 2011, before returning to Vancouver in 2013 to work with the Community Kollel as an assistant rabbi and youth director. Since 2016, he has served as the congregational rabbi of the Bayit in Richmond. Alongside his wife, Rivky, an educator who grew up in Safed, Israel, they have built something truly special.

One of the most powerful expressions of that work is the Bayit’s Kids Zone, an after-school and Shabbat program. Through cooking, crafts, music, games, Torah stories, mitzvot and holiday celebrations, children experience Judaism as warm, relevant and exciting. Pre-teens are guided toward leadership and responsibility, learning values like tzedakah, friendship and connection to Israel.

Many of the children who attend Kids Zone are enrolled in public school. For them, the program becomes a vital Jewish anchor. Parents speak of children singing Hebrew songs at home, lighting Shabbat candles for the first time, and engaging more deeply with Jewish life.

Today, I live in Israel with my family and work in communications. One of my key clients is the Yael Foundation, whose mission is to ensure that every Jewish child has access to quality Jewish education and the opportunity to develop a strong Jewish identity, no matter where they live.

Earlier this month, in Vienna, the Yael Foundation hosted the Yael Awards, celebrating innovation and excellence in Jewish education worldwide. The Bayit’s Kids Zone was among the finalists for the Jewish Experience of the Year Award, recognized alongside outstanding programs from across Europe.

“At the Bayit, we believe that a strong Jewish identity is built through joy, connection and hands-on experiences that make Judaism come alive for every child,” said Rabbi Varnai. “Kids Zone is the heart of that mission – a warm, welcoming space where children explore their heritage, celebrate Jewish life and grow proud of who they are as Jews.”

This year’s Jewish Experience of the Year Award was presented to Beth Habad Canton Vert in France, a community-based program that exemplifies how Jewish life can be made accessible, meaningful and vibrant for families.

Reflecting on the breadth and quality of the finalists, Chaya Yosovich, chief executive officer of the Yael Foundation, noted, “Every one of these educators is deserving of an award. We see, year after year, how educators are raising the bar to ensure the next generation feels connected and proud of their Jewish identity.”

Across the world, Jewish schools and educational programs, particularly in smaller or less visible communities, operate with limited funding and stretched staff. These communities may not sit at the centre of global Jewish attention but, for the families who live there, they are often the entry point into Jewish communal life. By investing in Jewish education globally, the Yael Foundation tries to ensure that excellence is not reserved only for large, well-resourced centres.

A Jewish journey that began in a Grade 3 classroom in Vancouver has come full circle. A former classmate now leads a community where Jewish identity is being nurtured in the next generations. And, today, I help tell the stories of educators and communities quietly investing in the Jewish future.

Nicole Grubner, a former Vancouverite who now lives and works in Israel, is a partner at FINN Partners marketing and communications agency.

Commemorating the Shoah

Richmond RCMP Chief Superintendent Dave Chauhan, left, lights memorial candles with survivors David Schaffer, Sidi Schaffer, Amalia Boe-Fishman and Ilona Mermelstein, and Richmond Mayor Malcolm Brodie at a commemoration of International Holocaust Remembrance Day, at the Bayit, in Richmond, on Jan. 25. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Amalia Boe-Fishman was born in Leeuwarden, in the Netherlands, days before the start of the Second World War. Her mother’s parents and siblings had made aliyah to Israel in the early 1930s, but her mother, Johanna, stayed behind to pursue a career in nursing. Working in the Jewish hospital, she met Arnold van Kreveld, a patient who had been in a motorcycle accident, and they fell in love.

The couple married in 1935 and their first child, David, nicknamed Dik, was born in 1937. Amalia arrived Aug. 23, 1939.

“We had a good life, family, friends and neighbours,” Boe-Fishman said. But then, in May 1940, the German army invaded the Netherlands.

Boe-Fishman shared the story of her family’s survival at a commemoration of International Holocaust Remembrance Day, at the Bayit, in Richmond, on Jan. 25.

After the Nazis overran the Netherlands, her father’s parents and siblings were deported to Westerbork, a Nazi transit camp in the Netherlands, on Sept. 3, and on to Auschwitz, where they were immediately murdered, on Sept. 7.

Her father was a scientist and his young research assistant, Jan Spiekhout, a member of the Dutch resistance to the Nazis, would save the lives of the entire van Kreveld family.

“Jan Spiekhout found immediately an address for my father to go into hiding,” Boe-Fishman recalled. “He then found different hiding addresses for my mother, another address for my brother and then one for myself.”

Amalia was not yet a year old and her parents knew they might never see their children again.

“My mother gave me a special doll to keep me company and a letter I brought with me so my new family would understand her little girl a little better,” said Boe-Fishman. “In the letter, [she] told them how fond I was of my older brother Dik. If my parents would not survive the war, the Holocaust, to send us together to Israel to stay with one of my mother’s sisters.”

Amalia was taken to the home of Spiekhout and his parents, Durk and Froukje Spiekhout. The crowded and deeply religious Dutch Reformed household already had six children, of which Jan was the eldest. The younger Spiekhout children were told that Amalia was the daughter of a sick aunt in Rotterdam.

“They became my family,” said Boe-Fishman. “Father Spiekhout took a great risk bringing me into his household. He was a policeman. After all, policemen were supposed to work for the Nazis and round up Jews.”

She learned later that he instead warned Jewish neighbours of impending Nazi roundups.

“My father, typically Jewish looking, with dark hair, went from hiding place to hiding place – at least 26 different addresses,” Boe-Fishman said. “All at night and all arranged by Jan Spiekhout. My mother, not so typically Jewish looking, did not need to flee so often.

“As for myself, I don’t know what I remember or what I was told later on,” she said. “I was not allowed to go outside and I had to stay indoors for three years.”

On April 15, 1945, Canadian forces liberated Leeuwarden.

“What did that mean for me?” she asked. “Liberation should have been a really happy time for me. I was told that I could go outdoors. I didn’t know what to expect, what was waiting for me outdoors. Indoors had become my entire life. Indoors was where I felt secure and safe. Indoors was all I knew.”

Greater change was to come.

“I was told I had a real family and I was told I was going home,” she said. “But who were those people, who were those strangers? I did not want to leave the family Spiekhout. They were my real family and I loved them. My own father and mother were patient with me. They would come over to visit and I would run away or hang onto Mother Spiekhout screaming, ‘I don’t want to go home!’”

Dik, who was now 7-and-a-half, was also a stranger to little Amalia. Most incredibly, and at profound danger, a younger sibling had been born in hiding, a baby named Jan, in honour of the family’s saviour.

The name Jan has profound resonance in the family. Amalia’s oldest son, who joined her at the commemoration, was born in 1962 and is also named Jan.

That the entire immediate family had survived the Holocaust – had grown, in fact – was almost inconceivable. Dutch Jews had one of the lowest survival rates during the Holocaust. The van Krevelds owed everything to the Spiekhout family who, in 2008, were recognized as Righteous Among the Nations by Yad Vashem’s Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Authority. Boe-Fishman and her children attended a ceremony honouring the Spiekhouts in The Hague in 2009.

In 1961, Boe-Fishman (then van Kreveld) went to Israel trying to find her Jewish identity. The Eichmann trial was taking place at the time, which cracked open consciousness of the Holocaust not only for most of the world, but for survivors, including her family, who had remained almost entirely silent on the subject. In Israel, she met and married a Canadian Jew from Vancouver and settled here becoming, among other things, a devoted speaker to class groups and others about her Holocaust experiences.

photo - Amalia Boe-Fishman and son Jan Fishman. Boe-Fishman shared her survivor experiences at the memorial event — Amalia Boe-Fishman and son Jan Fishman. Boe-Fishman shared her survivor experiences at the memorial event. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Rabbi Levi Varnai of the Bayit contextualized Boe-Fishman’s presentation.

“I think that this year – every year, but this year maybe more than any year – with all the craziness in the world, this event is even more important than ever before,” he said.

Keith Liedtke, president of the Bayit, served as master of ceremonies and credited Michael Sachs, now regional director for Jewish National Fund of Canada, for starting the tradition five years ago of inviting the mayor to recognize Holocaust Remembrance Day annually.

Cantor Yaakov Orzech chanted El Moleh Rachamim. Richmond’s Mayor Malcolm Brodie read the proclamation and reflected on Boe-Fishman’s experiences. RCMP Chief Superintendent Dave Chauhan joined the mayor and survivors in lighting memorial candles. Liedtke read a message from Steveston-Richmond East Member of Parliament Parm Bains. Kelly Greene, member of the Legislative Assembly for Richmond-Steveston, brought greetings from Premier David Eby. Also in attendance were Richmond South Centre MLA Henry Yao and Richmond city councilors Chak Au, Andy Hobbs and Bill McNulty.

In addition to the Bayit, the event was presented with the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Kehila Society of Richmond and Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver.

Lessons from the pandemic

Zoom presentations became a regular affair at Beth Israel during the pandemic. Inset: JFS director of programs and community partnerships Cindy McMillan provides an overview of the new Jewish Food Bank. (screenshot from BI & JFS)

As Vancouver-area synagogues cautiously edge their way toward reinstituting in-person religious services, many rabbis are doing a rethink about the impact that the past 17 months of closure has had on their congregations.

Finding a way to maintain a community connection for thousands of Jewish families became an imperative for all of the synagogues early on in the pandemic. Not surprisingly, for many, the answer became cutting-edge technology. But careful brainstorming and halachic deliberations remained at the heart of how each congregation addressed these urgent needs.

“We immediately realized that services per se were not going to work over electronic medium,” Congregation Schara Tzedeck’s Rabbi Andrew Rosenblatt told the Independent.

He said Orthodox rabbis across the world were already discussing halachah (Jewish law) in light of the pandemic when the province of British Columbia announced the shutdown in March of last year. “We realized that we weren’t going to offer any services,” he said. “We can’t have a minyan online.”

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t offer support. Schara Tzedeck’s answer to that need was only one of many innovative approaches that would come up. For example, to help congregants who had lost family members, the Orthodox shul devised a new ritual, as the reciting of the Mourner’s Kaddish requires a minyan (10 men or 10 men and women, depending on the level of orthodoxy, gathered together in one physical location).

“What we did is immediately [start a Zoom] study session in lieu of Kaddish. [The Mourner’s] Kaddish is based on this idea of doing a mitzvah act, which is meritorious for the sake of your loved one, so we substituted the study of Torah for the saying of Kaddish,” he explained.

For many other communities, such as the Conservative synagogue Congregation Beth Israel, the deliberations over how to apply halachah in unique moments such as these were just as intense. For these instances, said BI’s Rabbi Jonathan Infeld, rabbis saw another imperative.

“This is what is called she’at had’chak, or a time of pressure,” Infeld said. “It’s a special time, it’s a unique time, and so we adapted to the time period.”

The concept allows a reliance on less authoritative opinions in urgent situations. So, for example, with respect to reciting the Mourner’s Kaddish, Infeld said, “We felt that, especially in this time period, people would need that emotional connection, or would need that emotional comfort of saying Mourner’s Kaddish when they were in mourning, and so we have not considered this [internet gathering to be] a minyan, except for Mourner’s Kaddish,” Infeld said. He noted that the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards of the Rabbinical Assembly, which reviews halachic decisions for the Conservative movement, has adopted the same position.

Rabbi Shlomo Gabay, who leads the Orthodox Sephardi synagogue Congregation Beth Hamidrash, said that although his congregation would not hold Mourner’s Kaddish online, venues like Zoom played a vital role in allowing the congregation to meet during shivah, the first seven days of mourning. Like a traditional shivah, which takes place in the mourner’s home, often with a small number of visitors, an online shivah gave community members a chance to attend and extend support as well.

“That was actually an especially meaningful [opportunity],” Gabay said. “The mourners, one after another, told me that, first of all, you don’t often get the opportunity to have so many people in the room, all together, listening.”

For members of the Bayit Orthodox congregation in Richmond, an online shivah meant family on the other side of the country could attend as well. “What was most interesting, of course, was the people from all across the world,” remarked Rabbi Levi Varnai. “You can have people who are family, friends, cousins, from many places in the world, potentially.”

screenshot - Temple Sholom uses a variety of online media to provide inclusive content for those members who can’t attend in person. Pictured here are Rabbi Dan Moskovitz and Rabbi Carey Brown — Temple Sholom uses a variety of online media to provide inclusive content for those members who can’t attend in person. Pictured here are Rabbi Dan Moskovitz and Rabbi Carey Brown. *(screenshot from Temple Sholom)*

Vancouver’s Reform Congregation Temple Sholom also came to value the potential of blending online media with traditional venues. Rabbi Dan Moskovitz said the congregation had been streaming its services and classes as much as a decade before the pandemic arrived. But lifecycle events, he said, demanded a more personal approach, one that would still allow families to actually participate in reading from the Torah scroll, while not violating the restrictions on large public attendance.

“The big change is that we brought Torah to everybody’s home,” he said. Literally. Moskovitz or his associate, Rabbi Carey Brown, would deliver the scroll in a large, specially fitted container, along with a prayer book, instructions and other necessary accoutrements.

“We had a document camera so, when we streamed, you could look down on the Torah as it was being read on screen. Those were very special moments on a front porch when I would deliver Torah, socially distanced with a mask on, early on in the pandemic,” he said. “I had a mask and I had rubber gloves and they had a mask, and you put something down and you walked away. We got a little more comfortable with service transmission later on.”

International classes

Switching to online media also has broadened the opportunities for classes and social connections. Infeld said Beth Israel moved quickly to develop a roster of classes as soon as it knew that there would be a shutdown.

“We realized right away that we can’t shut down. We may need to close the physical building, but the congregation isn’t the building. The congregation is the soul [of Beth Israel]. We exist with or without the building,” he said. “And we realized that for us to make it through this time period in a strong way, and to emerge even stronger from it, we would have to increase our programming.”

He said the synagogue’s weekly Zoom and Learn program has been among its most popular, hosting experts from around the world and garnering up to 100 or more viewers each event. The synagogue also hosts a mussar (Jewish ethics) class that is regularly attended. “We never had a daily study session,” Infeld said. “Now we [do].”

For Chabad centres in the Vancouver area, virtual programming has been a cornerstone of success for years and they have expanded their reach, even during the pandemic. “We have had more classes and more lectures than ever before, with greater attendance,” said Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, who runs Chabad Richmond.

Zoom and other online mediums mean that the centres don’t have to fly in presenters if they want to offer an event. Like other synagogues, Chabad Richmond can now connect their audiences directly with experts from anywhere in the world.

“We can’t go back”

All of the synagogues that were contacted for this story acknowledged that online media services had played an important role in keeping their communities connected. And most felt that they will continue to use virtual meeting spaces and online streaming after the pandemic has ended.

“As our biggest barrier to Friday night participation was the fact that many families were trying to also fit in a Shabbat dinner with small children, the convenience of the Friday livestream is worth including in the future,” said Rabbi Philip Gibbs, who runs the North Shore Conservative synagogue Congregation Har El.

“We’re scoping bids to instal a Zoom room in our classroom space so that we can essentially run a blended environment,” Rosenblatt said. “We anticipate, when restrictions are lifted, some people will still want to participate by Zoom and some people will want to be in person.”

However, some congregations remain undecided as to whether Zoom will remain a constant in their services and programming.

Rabbi Susan Tendler said that the virtual meeting place didn’t necessarily mesh with all aspects of Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Conservative service, such as its tradition of forming small groups (chavurot) during services. “We are talking about what that will look like in the future,” she said, “yet realize that we must keep this door open.”

So is Burquest Jewish Community Association in Coquitlam, which is looking at hybrid services to support those who can’t attend in person. “But these activities will probably not be a major focus for us going forward,” said board member Dov Lank.

For Or Shalom, a Jewish Renewal congregation, developing ways to bolster classes, meditation retreats and other programs online was encouraging. Rabbi Hannah Dresner acknowledged that, if there were another shutdown, the congregation would be able to “make use of the many innovations we’ve conceived and lean into our mastery of virtual delivery.”

For a number of congregations, virtual services like Zoom appear to offer an answer to an age-old question: how to build a broader Jewish community in a world that remains uncertain at times and often aloof.

The Bayit’s leader, Rabbi Varnai, suggests it’s a matter of perspective. He said finding that answer starts with understanding what a bayit (home) – in this case, a Jewish house of worship – is meant to be.

The Bayit, he said, is “a place for gathering community members and for coming together. The question, how can we still be there for each other, causes us to realize that we can’t go back to as before.” After all, he said, “community service is about caring for each other.”

Jan Lee’s articles, op-eds and blog posts have been published in B’nai B’rith Magazine, Voices of Conservative and Masorti Judaism, Times of Israel and Baltimore Jewish Times, as well as a number of business, environmental and travel publications. Her blog can be found at multiculturaljew.polestarpassages.com.