by Sharon Udasin
As flocks of runners flew off the Pulaski Bridge and made their way up to Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City last Sunday, Nachum and Chaya Mushka Wineberg juggled hundreds of bottles of POWERade, handing them off to their mother and father.
Rabbi Zev Wineberg, 30, the spiritual leader of the Jewish Community Center – Chabad of Long Island City, organized a makeshift stop along the New York City Marathon route, where he and his wife Rivka passed batons of the electrolytic sports drink to thirsty runners.
While official stops along the 26.2-mile trail provided rival beverage Gatorade, POWERade bears the kosher certification that Gatorade lacks. Wineberg wanted to provide observant marathoners with the nourishment that they could not otherwise obtain.
“I think it’s a tremendous thing that people push themselves to that limit,” said Wineberg, who began running last year and hopes one day to run the New York City Marathon. “It was really inspiring to see everyone running by yesterday.”
Wineberg first heard about the sports drink problem from friend and marathoner Jascha Preuss, 42, whose wife was bringing POWERade to fellow runner and kashrut observer Dovid Yehoshua Schachner, after mile six.
“I definitely need to have the carbs in order to run the 26.2 miles,” said Schachner, 45, running his fourth marathon.
With donations from community members, the Wineberg family distributed 300 bottles of POWERade between miles 13 and 14, attracting marathoners to their station with a neon green sign that read “kosher energy drink one block ahead on right side of street.”
“As the runners were coming down Vernon they all saw the sign. It was amazing how many people yelled ‘Shalom’ to us,” he said, happy about the appreciative reaction among Jews and non-Jews alike. “We were throwing bottles to them across the street,” he added.
Next year, Wineberg wants to make Chabad of Long Island City an official Marathon station, and he hopes that kosher beverages will be available throughout the entire route.
“Since there is a contingent of kashrut observant Jews, I think it would be great if there was a kosher electrolyte beverage because water just isn’t quite the same,” Preuss agreed, adding that there is always a sizeable minyan at the starting line in Fort Wadsworth.
But Schachner fears that this will not work out because as an official sponsor, Gatorade would need to grant a waiver for POWERade distribution, he said. Though not optimistic, he hopes that the rabbi will be successful.
“We need bar mitzvah stops: 13,” Wineberg said jokingly. “And then we’ll try to make bar mitzvahs along the way and see if people will put on tefillin.”
Showing posts with label kosher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kosher. Show all posts
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
The Dragon's Yarmulke: Jewish Communities in China
Though small, these are some of the newest and fastest growing Jewish communities in the world.
Release Date: 10/24/2008
By PAUL ROCKOWER
When Israeli Dvir Bar-Gal arrived in Shanghai some seven years ago, there were roughly 300 Jews in the city.
That community is now seven times larger. Jewish communities in China are expanding in a way that matches the frenetic expansion of the enigmatic land in which they live.
"The Jewish community of China is one the fastest growing Jewish communities in the world," said Bar-Gal, who today runs a Jewish history tour of Shanghai.
As China has opened itself to the outside world, Jewish communities are being reborn in China. Shanghai is home to the largest Jewish community, with upwards of 2,000 people, followed by Beijing at 1,500 to 2,000. Jews have migrated to work or study in China from Europe, North America, Australia and Israel. Many of those now residing in China are drawn by business pursuits, but there are also many Jewish students as well as Jewish families connected with the various diplomatic missions posted in China. Most of these migrants see China as a new land of economic opportunity, though not necessarily a permanent new home. Historically, however, Jews saw China as offering a different opportunity: the chance to escape persecution.
The history of Jewish communities in China dates back more than a millennium with the storied community of Kaifeng. In the modern era, however, the most important communities were in Harbin, Tianjin, and Shanghai. These were seen as places of tolerance in a hostile world. The emergence and resurgence of Shanghai's Jewish community illuminates the interplay between global trends and Chinese policies.
Shanghai's Jewish community began in the mid-19th century with the immigration of mercantilist Sephardic Jews from the Middle East, but the Russian turmoil of the early 20th century brought thousands of immigrants to China. Many Jews fled the Russo-Japanese war, the outbreak of pogroms, and disorder associated with World War I, the Russian Revolution and the Russian Civil war and found haven in China. After the Russian Revolution, Jews came to Shanghai and settled in the Hongkou neighborhood. As European-style tenement houses were built and Jewish-owned shops, cafes and kosher delicatessens multiplied, residents and others began to call the area Little Vienna.
With Europe's descent into war in the 1930s, Shanghai again became a haven for Jews seeking refuge from Nazi persecution. As doors, including American ones, closed for European Jewish , Shanghai was one of the few remaining places that did not require papers or a visa for entry. From 1939 to 1941, 20,000 to 30,000 Jews immigrated to Shanghai to escape Nazi persecution.
With the 1937 Japanese occupation of Shanghai, the Japanese authorities designated the Jewish migrants as "stateless refugees" and restricted their habitation and commerce to a somewhat benign ghetto in the Hongkou neighborhood. The Hongkou neighborhood was also home to many displaced Chinese, who were refugees from the Japanese occupation.
Today, few of those Jewish refugees or their descendants remain in Shanghai. After World War II and the the Communist victory in China's civil war nearly all of Shanghai's Jews migrated to America, Canada, Australia or Israel.
The new Jewish communities of businesspeople, students and diplomats are growing and members are working together to create the infrastructure necessary to support the community and foster connections to the faith. Chabad, one of the largest Orthodox Jewish movements that runs thousands of outreach centers around the world, plays a major part in the Jewish life in China. In total, Chabad runs seven Jewish centers throughout China: Beijing, two in Shanghai, Guangzhou, two in Hong Kong, and Shenzhen.
Chabad set up shop in Beijing in 2001, and since then has built the foundations of Jewish communal life in China's capital, including a Jewish day school, community center and even a Chinese pagoda-style mikvah (Jewish ritual bath). Despite these familiarities, the Jewish lifestyle still faces challenges in China. Given the complexities of observing Kashrut—Jewish culinary law—in a land as gastronomically diverse as China, the ability for religious Jews to eat in a kosher fashion remains a constant challenge.
However, Western import grocery stores often help. "Thank God for the Western supermarkets," Rabbi Freundlich said. "It is possible to get some kosher foods in the form of Western products that happen to be kosher."
In addition, once a year, the communities in Beijing and Shanghai receive from Israel a container of dry goods, kosher wine and long-lasting milk. As for kosher meat and chicken, the Rabbi has a kosher slaughterer flown in either from South Africa or Australia. In addition, in March 2007, the Chabad Beijing opened Dini's, the only kosher restaurant in the city.
The situation in Shanghai is similar, with Chabad maintaining a Jewish center in both older city center and the newer Pudong area. The Jewish center at the Chabad Shanghai is complete with children's school and weekly Shabbat service, and a kosher café, as well as a kosher meal delivery service to hotels and offices.
But there are still obstacles. Judaism is not one of the five recognized religions in China, but the government has largely ignored it. The recent developments of these new, non-refugee communities coupled with their relatively miniscule population hasn't yet drawn the attention of the government.
"The Jewish community has a good relationship with the Chinese government," said Rabbi Shimon Freundlich of Chabad Beijing. "The Chinese government understands that the Beijing Jewish community respects the Chinese culture, and the wishes of the government and the Chinese people." Yet currently, Rabbi Freundlich's home serves as the temple, as the Jewish community is not permitted to build freestanding places of worship.
Meanwhile, the Jewish community is pushing for status as a non-recognized Western minority community, which will offer the Jewish community status as an official community in China. Currently, the Jewish community is prohibited from performing conversions of local Chinese people, and local Chinese are not allowed to participate in rituals unless they are married to a Jew. Despite the red tape, there is local interest in the faith.
"Chabad gets a call at least once a week from someone in a distant province who wants to convert to Judaism," Rabbi Freundlich said. "We counsel them that if they are serious, then they can do a conversion in Hong Kong or Australia, but not in Mainland China."
Given the minute size of China's Jewish community, and the relatively few Jews worldwide, in many ways the concept of "the Jewish people" has an outsized stature in China. Interestingly, the Jewish image in popular Chinese culture has a rather fascinating position. According to the Washington Post article "Sold on a Stereotype," there is even a field of self-help books in China dedicated to "the Jewish way of making money." This genre includes such titles as The Legend of Jewish Wealth and The Eight Most Valuable Business Secrets of the Jewish. Despite the somewhat anti-Semitic undertones of such literature, the Washington Post article observes that Chinese also perceive the Jewish community as having a great deal of intelligence and business acumen.
"We are attracted by Jewish wisdom, intelligence, success and survival," said Professor Xu Xin, director of the Glazer Institute of Jewish Studies at Nanjing University. "These are qualities the Chinese feel they can learn from. Both the Chinese and the Jews have a tradition of education and respect learning."
This sentiment has translated into a unique relationship in local populations, where Jewish residents are subject to no more discrimination than other foreign faces.
"[The sentiments] are the opposite of anti-Semitism, but rather appreciation," Bar-Gal said. "The majority of Chinese people don't know what ‘Jews' are—they have no concept. In big cities, some Chinese people know Jews, and view them as ‘smart' and ‘rich.' In China, there is positive thinking regarding business: if you are rich, you have achieved a goal. The Chinese want to copy and learn from the Jewish people—this is a compliment, not negative thought."
When asked about the future of the Jewish community in China, Bar-Gal had an intriguing, albeit tongue-in-cheek, answer: "I see the whole Jewish people's future here in China. With rising anti-Semitism in Europe, instability in Israel and financial troubles in the US, the entire Jewish world will come to live in China. You have a country that has a history free of anti-Semitism, and a culture that deeply respects the Jewish people. What is 12 million in a land of 1.3 billion?"
While this scenario is unlikely, the future for Jewish communities in China is indeed promising. The Jewish community in China is one of the fastest growing Jewish communities in the world; the increase in Jewish communal institutions in China ensures that Jewish communities can continue their extraordinary growth, and that over time Chinese will have a more realistic knowledge of the religion and its adherents in China.
Paul Rockower is a journalist who spent six weeks traveling in China. He writes a column for the Jerusalem Post on Jewish communities in far-flung places. Paul is currently pursuing a Master's in Public Diplomacy at USC.
Release Date: 10/24/2008
By PAUL ROCKOWER
When Israeli Dvir Bar-Gal arrived in Shanghai some seven years ago, there were roughly 300 Jews in the city.
That community is now seven times larger. Jewish communities in China are expanding in a way that matches the frenetic expansion of the enigmatic land in which they live.
"The Jewish community of China is one the fastest growing Jewish communities in the world," said Bar-Gal, who today runs a Jewish history tour of Shanghai.
As China has opened itself to the outside world, Jewish communities are being reborn in China. Shanghai is home to the largest Jewish community, with upwards of 2,000 people, followed by Beijing at 1,500 to 2,000. Jews have migrated to work or study in China from Europe, North America, Australia and Israel. Many of those now residing in China are drawn by business pursuits, but there are also many Jewish students as well as Jewish families connected with the various diplomatic missions posted in China. Most of these migrants see China as a new land of economic opportunity, though not necessarily a permanent new home. Historically, however, Jews saw China as offering a different opportunity: the chance to escape persecution.
The history of Jewish communities in China dates back more than a millennium with the storied community of Kaifeng. In the modern era, however, the most important communities were in Harbin, Tianjin, and Shanghai. These were seen as places of tolerance in a hostile world. The emergence and resurgence of Shanghai's Jewish community illuminates the interplay between global trends and Chinese policies.
Shanghai's Jewish community began in the mid-19th century with the immigration of mercantilist Sephardic Jews from the Middle East, but the Russian turmoil of the early 20th century brought thousands of immigrants to China. Many Jews fled the Russo-Japanese war, the outbreak of pogroms, and disorder associated with World War I, the Russian Revolution and the Russian Civil war and found haven in China. After the Russian Revolution, Jews came to Shanghai and settled in the Hongkou neighborhood. As European-style tenement houses were built and Jewish-owned shops, cafes and kosher delicatessens multiplied, residents and others began to call the area Little Vienna.
With Europe's descent into war in the 1930s, Shanghai again became a haven for Jews seeking refuge from Nazi persecution. As doors, including American ones, closed for European Jewish , Shanghai was one of the few remaining places that did not require papers or a visa for entry. From 1939 to 1941, 20,000 to 30,000 Jews immigrated to Shanghai to escape Nazi persecution.
With the 1937 Japanese occupation of Shanghai, the Japanese authorities designated the Jewish migrants as "stateless refugees" and restricted their habitation and commerce to a somewhat benign ghetto in the Hongkou neighborhood. The Hongkou neighborhood was also home to many displaced Chinese, who were refugees from the Japanese occupation.
Today, few of those Jewish refugees or their descendants remain in Shanghai. After World War II and the the Communist victory in China's civil war nearly all of Shanghai's Jews migrated to America, Canada, Australia or Israel.
The new Jewish communities of businesspeople, students and diplomats are growing and members are working together to create the infrastructure necessary to support the community and foster connections to the faith. Chabad, one of the largest Orthodox Jewish movements that runs thousands of outreach centers around the world, plays a major part in the Jewish life in China. In total, Chabad runs seven Jewish centers throughout China: Beijing, two in Shanghai, Guangzhou, two in Hong Kong, and Shenzhen.
Chabad set up shop in Beijing in 2001, and since then has built the foundations of Jewish communal life in China's capital, including a Jewish day school, community center and even a Chinese pagoda-style mikvah (Jewish ritual bath). Despite these familiarities, the Jewish lifestyle still faces challenges in China. Given the complexities of observing Kashrut—Jewish culinary law—in a land as gastronomically diverse as China, the ability for religious Jews to eat in a kosher fashion remains a constant challenge.
However, Western import grocery stores often help. "Thank God for the Western supermarkets," Rabbi Freundlich said. "It is possible to get some kosher foods in the form of Western products that happen to be kosher."
In addition, once a year, the communities in Beijing and Shanghai receive from Israel a container of dry goods, kosher wine and long-lasting milk. As for kosher meat and chicken, the Rabbi has a kosher slaughterer flown in either from South Africa or Australia. In addition, in March 2007, the Chabad Beijing opened Dini's, the only kosher restaurant in the city.
The situation in Shanghai is similar, with Chabad maintaining a Jewish center in both older city center and the newer Pudong area. The Jewish center at the Chabad Shanghai is complete with children's school and weekly Shabbat service, and a kosher café, as well as a kosher meal delivery service to hotels and offices.
But there are still obstacles. Judaism is not one of the five recognized religions in China, but the government has largely ignored it. The recent developments of these new, non-refugee communities coupled with their relatively miniscule population hasn't yet drawn the attention of the government.
"The Jewish community has a good relationship with the Chinese government," said Rabbi Shimon Freundlich of Chabad Beijing. "The Chinese government understands that the Beijing Jewish community respects the Chinese culture, and the wishes of the government and the Chinese people." Yet currently, Rabbi Freundlich's home serves as the temple, as the Jewish community is not permitted to build freestanding places of worship.
Meanwhile, the Jewish community is pushing for status as a non-recognized Western minority community, which will offer the Jewish community status as an official community in China. Currently, the Jewish community is prohibited from performing conversions of local Chinese people, and local Chinese are not allowed to participate in rituals unless they are married to a Jew. Despite the red tape, there is local interest in the faith.
"Chabad gets a call at least once a week from someone in a distant province who wants to convert to Judaism," Rabbi Freundlich said. "We counsel them that if they are serious, then they can do a conversion in Hong Kong or Australia, but not in Mainland China."
Given the minute size of China's Jewish community, and the relatively few Jews worldwide, in many ways the concept of "the Jewish people" has an outsized stature in China. Interestingly, the Jewish image in popular Chinese culture has a rather fascinating position. According to the Washington Post article "Sold on a Stereotype," there is even a field of self-help books in China dedicated to "the Jewish way of making money." This genre includes such titles as The Legend of Jewish Wealth and The Eight Most Valuable Business Secrets of the Jewish. Despite the somewhat anti-Semitic undertones of such literature, the Washington Post article observes that Chinese also perceive the Jewish community as having a great deal of intelligence and business acumen.
"We are attracted by Jewish wisdom, intelligence, success and survival," said Professor Xu Xin, director of the Glazer Institute of Jewish Studies at Nanjing University. "These are qualities the Chinese feel they can learn from. Both the Chinese and the Jews have a tradition of education and respect learning."
This sentiment has translated into a unique relationship in local populations, where Jewish residents are subject to no more discrimination than other foreign faces.
"[The sentiments] are the opposite of anti-Semitism, but rather appreciation," Bar-Gal said. "The majority of Chinese people don't know what ‘Jews' are—they have no concept. In big cities, some Chinese people know Jews, and view them as ‘smart' and ‘rich.' In China, there is positive thinking regarding business: if you are rich, you have achieved a goal. The Chinese want to copy and learn from the Jewish people—this is a compliment, not negative thought."
When asked about the future of the Jewish community in China, Bar-Gal had an intriguing, albeit tongue-in-cheek, answer: "I see the whole Jewish people's future here in China. With rising anti-Semitism in Europe, instability in Israel and financial troubles in the US, the entire Jewish world will come to live in China. You have a country that has a history free of anti-Semitism, and a culture that deeply respects the Jewish people. What is 12 million in a land of 1.3 billion?"
While this scenario is unlikely, the future for Jewish communities in China is indeed promising. The Jewish community in China is one of the fastest growing Jewish communities in the world; the increase in Jewish communal institutions in China ensures that Jewish communities can continue their extraordinary growth, and that over time Chinese will have a more realistic knowledge of the religion and its adherents in China.
Paul Rockower is a journalist who spent six weeks traveling in China. He writes a column for the Jerusalem Post on Jewish communities in far-flung places. Paul is currently pursuing a Master's in Public Diplomacy at USC.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Grapes crushed for 'Cuvee Chabad'
New York rabbi makes kosher wine from St. Helena vineyard
By David Stoneberg
Thursday, October 23, 2008
STAFF WRITER
When most grapegrowers talk about history, they talk about a time nearly 150 years ago when the first vines were planted in the Napa Valley.
Rabbi Elchonon Tenenbaum, the director of Chabad of Napa Valley, connects with history, too — only it is ancient history, when Orthodox Jews tended vines and made wine for the temple in Jerusalem.
According to Genesis, Noah was the first one to plant vines, grow grapes and make wine. Today Tenenbaum is tending the grapevines and making wines much the way Noah did thousands of years ago.
At 6 a.m., Tuesday, Sept. 16, Tenenbaum and Jonathan Hajdu met at the Pratt Avenue vineyards owned by Naomi Glass, and spent four hours harvesting about a ton of grapes from the head-trained, 30-year-old zinfandel and younger syrah and carignane vines.
“We wanted to beat the heat,” Tenenbaum said. “It was a great experience: We would go through the bushes and make sure the grapes were ripe enough, although the Brix was lower than anticipated.”
The grapes were destemmed and Tenenbaum said the fermentation is happening naturally in open-top bins. “We’re leaving it up to God,” he said. Afterward, the must will be hand-pressed and the wine will be aged for a year in used oak barrels. Tenenbaum said his methods are a blend between modern winemaking techniques and ancient ways that may be unorthodox.
Make no mistake about it, the rabbi is a man of God and the field blend he is making follows kosher protocols and is able to be used in Jewish rituals. It will be bottled and released in December 2009, in time for Hanukkah, the celebration of the dedication of the temple in Jerusalem.
The wine, the first “Cuvee Chabad” made in thousands of years, will not be for sale. “We’re leaving it up to a higher authority and it will be used for ceremonial purposes,” Tenenbaum said. “It goes a bit beyond money, because the wine is priceless.”
The rabbi said the experience of making the wine and the holiness associated with it makes each bottle of wine unique. “I look at it very differently,” he said, than just a commercial transaction. Tenenbaum said Judaism is the blending between the spiritual and physical and by making wine he is increasing his faith and realizing how Judaism is connected to agriculture.
Tenenbaum, a New York native who was educated in Judaism in the concrete jungles of Brooklyn, says simply that two years ago he was directed by God to come to the Napa Valley. He founded Chabad of Napa Valley, which is a center open to all Jews.
Last year, Tenenbaum and Jeff Morgan, a St. Helena resident and co-owner of Covenant, made a case of cabernet sauvignon wines from grapes grown in Oakville. The two were tasting the developing wine and Morgan mentioned he had had a conversation with Naomi Glass, who owns a small vineyard on Pratt Avenue. She was looking for someone to take care of her vines. Morgan told her, he knew just the person.
In February, Tenenbaum and Jonathan Hajdu, the associate winemaker at Covenant, started pruning the 400 vines on the Glass property. Afterward, the two sprayed the vines for mold, fertilized and watered the vines and suckered them when the time was right. After bud break they dropped some fruit to focus the vine’s efforts on the remaining clusters.
“Coming from New York, this is a huge change in things,” Tenenbaum said. “I realize how Judaism is connected to agriculture, with the harvest.” Additionally, Judaism’s three major holidays, Passover in April, Shavuot in June and Sukkot in October are all connected to different phases in agriculture. These show how the Jews, God’s chosen people, are connected to God.
“God is the essence of the world,” Tenenbaum said, “We are able to recognize godliness through the growth of the vine.”
Five years ago Morgan started Covenant with Leslie Rudd specifically to make kosher wines. Morgan said Tenenbaum’s field blend is the first “Cuvee Chabad” made in 4,500 years. “It’s very exciting,” he adds.
Hajdu, an Orthodox Jew, and Tenenbaum harvested a ton of grapes in mid-September but purposely left some grapes on the vines. Glasses’ property, La Buona Stella, was established in 1890. On one of its barns is a quote from Leviticus: “When you reap the harvest of your land, do not strip your vineyard bare nor gather the overlooked grapes; you must leave them for the poor and the stranger.”
The quote is another reason the rabbi believes God directed him to the Napa Valley and to tending the vines on the Glass property.
It’s not easy making kosher wine, as only Jews can crush the grapes, tend the wine in its barrels or bottle it. And they can’t work on it during Sabbath, which starts Friday at sunset and ends 24 hours later, or during the Jewish holidays. Additionally, those workers need to be certified as “Sabbath observant” by a rabbinical agency.
Add to that the fact that all of the ingredients in the wine have to be certified kosher, but the Morgan’s help, Tenenbaum should be able to find what he needs.
“Wine is the oldest beverage, Jews first started making it for the holy temple in Jerusalem some 3,000 years ago,” Tenenbaum said. Not much has changed since then and the connection between the ancient and contemporary again shows how God directs the world. “It’s been a very spiritual experience,” he adds.
Wines and Judaism
For more information on Napa Valley kosher wines, visit
Covenant wines.com;
Hagafen.com;
PrixVineyards.com; and
Don Ernesto.com.
For information on Chabad of Napa Valley, visit www.JewishNapaValley.com.
By David Stoneberg
Thursday, October 23, 2008
STAFF WRITER
When most grapegrowers talk about history, they talk about a time nearly 150 years ago when the first vines were planted in the Napa Valley.
Rabbi Elchonon Tenenbaum, the director of Chabad of Napa Valley, connects with history, too — only it is ancient history, when Orthodox Jews tended vines and made wine for the temple in Jerusalem.
According to Genesis, Noah was the first one to plant vines, grow grapes and make wine. Today Tenenbaum is tending the grapevines and making wines much the way Noah did thousands of years ago.
At 6 a.m., Tuesday, Sept. 16, Tenenbaum and Jonathan Hajdu met at the Pratt Avenue vineyards owned by Naomi Glass, and spent four hours harvesting about a ton of grapes from the head-trained, 30-year-old zinfandel and younger syrah and carignane vines.
“We wanted to beat the heat,” Tenenbaum said. “It was a great experience: We would go through the bushes and make sure the grapes were ripe enough, although the Brix was lower than anticipated.”
The grapes were destemmed and Tenenbaum said the fermentation is happening naturally in open-top bins. “We’re leaving it up to God,” he said. Afterward, the must will be hand-pressed and the wine will be aged for a year in used oak barrels. Tenenbaum said his methods are a blend between modern winemaking techniques and ancient ways that may be unorthodox.
Make no mistake about it, the rabbi is a man of God and the field blend he is making follows kosher protocols and is able to be used in Jewish rituals. It will be bottled and released in December 2009, in time for Hanukkah, the celebration of the dedication of the temple in Jerusalem.
The wine, the first “Cuvee Chabad” made in thousands of years, will not be for sale. “We’re leaving it up to a higher authority and it will be used for ceremonial purposes,” Tenenbaum said. “It goes a bit beyond money, because the wine is priceless.”
The rabbi said the experience of making the wine and the holiness associated with it makes each bottle of wine unique. “I look at it very differently,” he said, than just a commercial transaction. Tenenbaum said Judaism is the blending between the spiritual and physical and by making wine he is increasing his faith and realizing how Judaism is connected to agriculture.
Tenenbaum, a New York native who was educated in Judaism in the concrete jungles of Brooklyn, says simply that two years ago he was directed by God to come to the Napa Valley. He founded Chabad of Napa Valley, which is a center open to all Jews.
Last year, Tenenbaum and Jeff Morgan, a St. Helena resident and co-owner of Covenant, made a case of cabernet sauvignon wines from grapes grown in Oakville. The two were tasting the developing wine and Morgan mentioned he had had a conversation with Naomi Glass, who owns a small vineyard on Pratt Avenue. She was looking for someone to take care of her vines. Morgan told her, he knew just the person.
In February, Tenenbaum and Jonathan Hajdu, the associate winemaker at Covenant, started pruning the 400 vines on the Glass property. Afterward, the two sprayed the vines for mold, fertilized and watered the vines and suckered them when the time was right. After bud break they dropped some fruit to focus the vine’s efforts on the remaining clusters.
“Coming from New York, this is a huge change in things,” Tenenbaum said. “I realize how Judaism is connected to agriculture, with the harvest.” Additionally, Judaism’s three major holidays, Passover in April, Shavuot in June and Sukkot in October are all connected to different phases in agriculture. These show how the Jews, God’s chosen people, are connected to God.
“God is the essence of the world,” Tenenbaum said, “We are able to recognize godliness through the growth of the vine.”
Five years ago Morgan started Covenant with Leslie Rudd specifically to make kosher wines. Morgan said Tenenbaum’s field blend is the first “Cuvee Chabad” made in 4,500 years. “It’s very exciting,” he adds.
Hajdu, an Orthodox Jew, and Tenenbaum harvested a ton of grapes in mid-September but purposely left some grapes on the vines. Glasses’ property, La Buona Stella, was established in 1890. On one of its barns is a quote from Leviticus: “When you reap the harvest of your land, do not strip your vineyard bare nor gather the overlooked grapes; you must leave them for the poor and the stranger.”
The quote is another reason the rabbi believes God directed him to the Napa Valley and to tending the vines on the Glass property.
It’s not easy making kosher wine, as only Jews can crush the grapes, tend the wine in its barrels or bottle it. And they can’t work on it during Sabbath, which starts Friday at sunset and ends 24 hours later, or during the Jewish holidays. Additionally, those workers need to be certified as “Sabbath observant” by a rabbinical agency.
Add to that the fact that all of the ingredients in the wine have to be certified kosher, but the Morgan’s help, Tenenbaum should be able to find what he needs.
“Wine is the oldest beverage, Jews first started making it for the holy temple in Jerusalem some 3,000 years ago,” Tenenbaum said. Not much has changed since then and the connection between the ancient and contemporary again shows how God directs the world. “It’s been a very spiritual experience,” he adds.
Wines and Judaism
For more information on Napa Valley kosher wines, visit
Covenant wines.com;
Hagafen.com;
PrixVineyards.com; and
Don Ernesto.com.
For information on Chabad of Napa Valley, visit www.JewishNapaValley.com.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Offering a toast to the kosher life
Scotland's Jewish population is small and in decline, but within the community are some dynamic ventures encouraging lapsed individuals to give their religion a re-think. Emma Cowing meets a Glasgow Rabbi doing everything he can to keep the faith alive.
IT'S A busy Tuesday evening at L'Chaims restaurant on the south side of Glasgow. A young waitress rushes between the tables, candles flicker invitingly, and a low hum of conversation accompanies the steady stream of plates arriving from the kitchen. Look closer, though, and all is not quite as you might expect in this popular eatery. All the male customers are wearing the traditional Jewish skull cap, the Kippah, every last item on the menu from the butter to the wine is Kosher, and the man presenting the credit-card machine is not a maître d' but a rabbi.
L'Chaims is Scotland's only Jewish Kosher restaurant, named after both its owner and a traditional Hebrew toast: "To life". Situated within the heart of Glasgow's Jewish area and run by local rabbi, Chaim Jacobs, and his wife Sora, it has become a potent symbol of rebirth in a community that is battling a slow yet steady decline.
Across the country Britain's Jewish population is falling. At the 2001 census there were 270,000 Jews in Britain, almost a quarter of whom were over the age of 65. The Board of Deputies believes this number has since dropped, and just 11 years before, in 1990, there were estimated to be about 340,000 British Jews. In Scotland there are around 6,400, compared to more than 8,000 in 1905. It is a subject that will be explored tonight in Vanessa Engle's BBC4 documentary Jews, which follows the efforts of one man – the millionaire Jonathan Faith, former owner of Faith shoes – to resuscitate interest in this ancient and often misunderstood religion.
Engle, herself a secular Jew, believes there are a number of reasons behind the decline. "People are marrying out of the faith, they're having fewer children, daring to be gay, living an alternative lifestyle. But society is
also becoming increasingly secular," she says.
It is still, she says, a misunderstood community. "When I started to research the subject I discovered there are many aspects of Jewish life that are still invisible. People have a lot of assumptions about Jews and Jewishness and what I found for myself is that people actually know very little about it."
Engle set out to document Faith – who was a secular Jew until the birth of his first child, 20 years ago, when he became what he describes as a "modern Orthodox Jew" – and his attempts to reignite interest in Judaism.
This he does primarily via the Jewish charity Aish, which takes non-religious Jews, many of them young men and women, on holidays to Israel in an attempt to reconnect them with their heritage.
Faith confronts his mission with the same techniques that made him a success. "Judaism is a product: I look at it as a product like anything else," he says. "For somebody to buy an idea, they've got to be shown the product in its best way possible. No-one likes the idea of Judaism being thought of as a product, but
sometimes you really need to look at it from a commercial point of view."
His plans are met with mixed levels of success. Some of the children who go on Aish's holidays seem more intent on drinking than attending Shul, and his own eight-week course on teaching the faith is not an instant success. By the end of the documentary he seems almost despondent about the future.
Those involved in the process admit it's not easy. As Glasgow-born Rabbi Malcolm Herman, director of another London-based Jewish educational initiative called Seed, points out in the documentary: "We're talking about applying ancient wisdom to contemporary living."
In Glasgow this same philosophy is being applied, not just at L'Chaims, but throughout the community. I meet Rabbi Jacobs, who as well as owning L'Chaims is a community rabbi in Giffnock and runs the Scottish arm of a Jewish educational organisation called Lubavitch, at his Giffnock home. In accordance with Jewish law
he does not shake my hand, but the warm welcome from both him and his wife Sora is genuine.
Rabbi Jacobs is on a mission to bring lapsed Scottish Jews back to their roots. Via Lubavitch, the New York-based Jewish educational initiative that is the world's biggest Jewish outreach organisation, he hopes to offer secular Jews who have abandoned their faith a reason to return.
"Formal practice of religion is on the decline, but there is still an interest in spirituality and Judaism within our community," says Rabbi Jacobs. "What we're offering is spirituality and we're offering it to people who no longer just want to go to the synagogue and read the prayers. They want to get some buzz out of it, and
spirituality that has some depth."
Was that, I ask, as they settle me in their cosy living room, while from the kitchen wafts the irresistibly comforting smell of chicken soup, why they decided to open a Jewish restaurant?
"There isn't really a Jewish community centre like there used to be," Rabbi Jacobs replies. "Because there are so many other things available, it's not a big attraction any more. So therefore, outwith the synagogue, the restaurant is probably the most active focal point where people can gravitate to and socialise within the
Jewish community."
There are around 5,500 Jews left in Glasgow's community, by far the biggest in Scotland. Walk through Giffnock today and you will see traditionally dressed Hasidic Jews, Kosher delis, a synagogue, a Jewish primary school and two Jewish care homes for the elderly. As a community it may be small but it is close-knit and, in its own way, still thriving. Rabbi Jacobs and his wife have lived in the area for 40 years
and say they've seen many changes over that period.
"It's swings and roundabouts," says Sora. "Forty years ago there were three or four Kosher butchers in the area. Now there's none. But, at the same time, I can go to Sainsbury's at 9:30pm and pick up a Kosher chicken."
The eminent Jewish-Scottish scholar David Daiches wrote in his autobiographical Two Worlds: An Edinburgh Jewish Childhood, that there are grounds for believing that Scotland is the only European country which has no history of state persecution of Jews. And indeed, the Jacobs family say they have been unconditionally accepted here since they moved from Manchester, four decades ago, to raise their children.
"We've never felt anything but warmth and friendliness here," says Jacobs. "Wherever we've gone, people couldn't do enough to accommodate us, whether it was with Kosher food or to generally make things easier for us."
I ask what sort of response a non-Jew interested in the faith would receive. "We don't seek non- Jewish people but we welcome them," Jacobs says. "If somebody comes and they want to convert, there are various laws to try and persuade them not to get involved, but if they are obstinate, so to speak, and they want to pursue being Jewish, of course we will welcome them."
Meanwhile, Lubavitch in Scotland grows from strength to strength. This year they held a Jewish Burns supper, complete with Kosher haggis, at L'Chaims, and there are regular 'Shul in the Park' services for younger members. There have been Kosher wine tastings on the calendar, and a children's birthday party with Kosher McDonald's-style food. Jacobs' son Mendel, also a rabbi, even launched a Jewish tartan in the Spring – made with Kosher non-wool linen of course.
"The way to get hold of people is to try and reach them at their level and then bring them to ours," says Jacobs. We can do that through food, hospitality – invite them to a Shabbos dinner and show them the beauty of the candle-lighting and the family atmosphere at that meal."
Apart from the obvious attractions of mealtimes, the food and the social life, though, I'm interested in why Jacobs feels people would want to return to a religion they have abandoned.
"People are looking for something," he says. "They've done everything in life. They've tried drugs, they've been around the block a few times and it's not given them any more happiness. Suddenly they look around and say, 'Where is happiness?'
"And that's when they give us a try."
• Jews: Keeping the Faith, BBC4 9pm
• L'Chaims Restaurant, 222 Fenwick Rd, Giffnock, Glasgow is open on Tuesdays and Thursdays. For more information call 0141-638 6116
IT'S A busy Tuesday evening at L'Chaims restaurant on the south side of Glasgow. A young waitress rushes between the tables, candles flicker invitingly, and a low hum of conversation accompanies the steady stream of plates arriving from the kitchen. Look closer, though, and all is not quite as you might expect in this popular eatery. All the male customers are wearing the traditional Jewish skull cap, the Kippah, every last item on the menu from the butter to the wine is Kosher, and the man presenting the credit-card machine is not a maître d' but a rabbi.
L'Chaims is Scotland's only Jewish Kosher restaurant, named after both its owner and a traditional Hebrew toast: "To life". Situated within the heart of Glasgow's Jewish area and run by local rabbi, Chaim Jacobs, and his wife Sora, it has become a potent symbol of rebirth in a community that is battling a slow yet steady decline.
Across the country Britain's Jewish population is falling. At the 2001 census there were 270,000 Jews in Britain, almost a quarter of whom were over the age of 65. The Board of Deputies believes this number has since dropped, and just 11 years before, in 1990, there were estimated to be about 340,000 British Jews. In Scotland there are around 6,400, compared to more than 8,000 in 1905. It is a subject that will be explored tonight in Vanessa Engle's BBC4 documentary Jews, which follows the efforts of one man – the millionaire Jonathan Faith, former owner of Faith shoes – to resuscitate interest in this ancient and often misunderstood religion.
Engle, herself a secular Jew, believes there are a number of reasons behind the decline. "People are marrying out of the faith, they're having fewer children, daring to be gay, living an alternative lifestyle. But society is
also becoming increasingly secular," she says.
It is still, she says, a misunderstood community. "When I started to research the subject I discovered there are many aspects of Jewish life that are still invisible. People have a lot of assumptions about Jews and Jewishness and what I found for myself is that people actually know very little about it."
Engle set out to document Faith – who was a secular Jew until the birth of his first child, 20 years ago, when he became what he describes as a "modern Orthodox Jew" – and his attempts to reignite interest in Judaism.
This he does primarily via the Jewish charity Aish, which takes non-religious Jews, many of them young men and women, on holidays to Israel in an attempt to reconnect them with their heritage.
Faith confronts his mission with the same techniques that made him a success. "Judaism is a product: I look at it as a product like anything else," he says. "For somebody to buy an idea, they've got to be shown the product in its best way possible. No-one likes the idea of Judaism being thought of as a product, but
sometimes you really need to look at it from a commercial point of view."
His plans are met with mixed levels of success. Some of the children who go on Aish's holidays seem more intent on drinking than attending Shul, and his own eight-week course on teaching the faith is not an instant success. By the end of the documentary he seems almost despondent about the future.
Those involved in the process admit it's not easy. As Glasgow-born Rabbi Malcolm Herman, director of another London-based Jewish educational initiative called Seed, points out in the documentary: "We're talking about applying ancient wisdom to contemporary living."
In Glasgow this same philosophy is being applied, not just at L'Chaims, but throughout the community. I meet Rabbi Jacobs, who as well as owning L'Chaims is a community rabbi in Giffnock and runs the Scottish arm of a Jewish educational organisation called Lubavitch, at his Giffnock home. In accordance with Jewish law
he does not shake my hand, but the warm welcome from both him and his wife Sora is genuine.
Rabbi Jacobs is on a mission to bring lapsed Scottish Jews back to their roots. Via Lubavitch, the New York-based Jewish educational initiative that is the world's biggest Jewish outreach organisation, he hopes to offer secular Jews who have abandoned their faith a reason to return.
"Formal practice of religion is on the decline, but there is still an interest in spirituality and Judaism within our community," says Rabbi Jacobs. "What we're offering is spirituality and we're offering it to people who no longer just want to go to the synagogue and read the prayers. They want to get some buzz out of it, and
spirituality that has some depth."
Was that, I ask, as they settle me in their cosy living room, while from the kitchen wafts the irresistibly comforting smell of chicken soup, why they decided to open a Jewish restaurant?
"There isn't really a Jewish community centre like there used to be," Rabbi Jacobs replies. "Because there are so many other things available, it's not a big attraction any more. So therefore, outwith the synagogue, the restaurant is probably the most active focal point where people can gravitate to and socialise within the
Jewish community."
There are around 5,500 Jews left in Glasgow's community, by far the biggest in Scotland. Walk through Giffnock today and you will see traditionally dressed Hasidic Jews, Kosher delis, a synagogue, a Jewish primary school and two Jewish care homes for the elderly. As a community it may be small but it is close-knit and, in its own way, still thriving. Rabbi Jacobs and his wife have lived in the area for 40 years
and say they've seen many changes over that period.
"It's swings and roundabouts," says Sora. "Forty years ago there were three or four Kosher butchers in the area. Now there's none. But, at the same time, I can go to Sainsbury's at 9:30pm and pick up a Kosher chicken."
The eminent Jewish-Scottish scholar David Daiches wrote in his autobiographical Two Worlds: An Edinburgh Jewish Childhood, that there are grounds for believing that Scotland is the only European country which has no history of state persecution of Jews. And indeed, the Jacobs family say they have been unconditionally accepted here since they moved from Manchester, four decades ago, to raise their children.
"We've never felt anything but warmth and friendliness here," says Jacobs. "Wherever we've gone, people couldn't do enough to accommodate us, whether it was with Kosher food or to generally make things easier for us."
I ask what sort of response a non-Jew interested in the faith would receive. "We don't seek non- Jewish people but we welcome them," Jacobs says. "If somebody comes and they want to convert, there are various laws to try and persuade them not to get involved, but if they are obstinate, so to speak, and they want to pursue being Jewish, of course we will welcome them."
Meanwhile, Lubavitch in Scotland grows from strength to strength. This year they held a Jewish Burns supper, complete with Kosher haggis, at L'Chaims, and there are regular 'Shul in the Park' services for younger members. There have been Kosher wine tastings on the calendar, and a children's birthday party with Kosher McDonald's-style food. Jacobs' son Mendel, also a rabbi, even launched a Jewish tartan in the Spring – made with Kosher non-wool linen of course.
"The way to get hold of people is to try and reach them at their level and then bring them to ours," says Jacobs. We can do that through food, hospitality – invite them to a Shabbos dinner and show them the beauty of the candle-lighting and the family atmosphere at that meal."
Apart from the obvious attractions of mealtimes, the food and the social life, though, I'm interested in why Jacobs feels people would want to return to a religion they have abandoned.
"People are looking for something," he says. "They've done everything in life. They've tried drugs, they've been around the block a few times and it's not given them any more happiness. Suddenly they look around and say, 'Where is happiness?'
"And that's when they give us a try."
• Jews: Keeping the Faith, BBC4 9pm
• L'Chaims Restaurant, 222 Fenwick Rd, Giffnock, Glasgow is open on Tuesdays and Thursdays. For more information call 0141-638 6116
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
After Settling Kosher Food Suit, California Prisons Get an Influx of Jewish Chaplains
By Rebecca Spence
Tue. Jun 03, 2008
Los Angeles — Mendel Slavin went to work as a chaplain in a San Diego prison in 2006. A Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidic rabbi from the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn, he was one of about a dozen Jewish chaplains serving California’s fractional Jewish inmate population at the time. But in the two years since then, that number has
literally doubled. Today Slavin is one of two dozen full-time chaplains employed by the state of California to provide counseling and lead religious services for Jews — and interested non-Jews — who are doing time.
Why the sudden surge in the numbers of Jewish chaplains in the Golden State? Three words: kosher food supervision.
In 2003, the state of California settled a lawsuit with Victor Wayne Cooper, an Orthodox Jew serving a 60-year sentence for child molestation. Cooper had sued the state for not providing him with kosher meals. As part of the settlement, the state agreed to make good-faith efforts to have kosher food available to inmates in all of its 33 prisons by 2006.
As a direct result of the lawsuit, the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation has been scrambling in recent years, in conjunction with the Northern and Southern California boards of rabbis, to install a Jewish chaplain at every prison in order to oversee the preparation of kosher food.
A similar case in Texas is still pending. But that state’s answer to a lawsuit brought in 2005 on behalf of Max Moussazadeh, a Jew of Iranian descent, has been to consolidate all 23 of its kosher-observant inmates into one prison, bypassing the need for Jewish chaplains across the board.
The work extends far beyond merely vetting jailhouse kosher cuisine. According to one longtime Jewish chaplain, his niche is as close as a rabbi can come to performing missionary work.
“We work with the underbelly of society, the spiritually void, the morally empty,” said Rabbi Lon Moskowitz, the Jewish chaplain at California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo. “It’s important to have chaplains so we can facilitate the Jewish Kosher Diet Plan statewide, but it’s a requirement so that the spiritual needs of incarcerated Jews are met.”
Moskowitz, 52, is a former pulpit and Hillel rabbi who has worked at California Men’s Colony — perhaps the most scenic of the state prisons, built on Highway 1 along California’s stunning central coast — for 11 years. Among the inmates with whom he has worked most closely over the years, he said, including those who have become his clerks and helped with paperwork, there is a 0% rate of recidivism.
Moskowitz also sits on the prison system’s Jewish Kosher Diet Task Force. He estimates that California Men’s Colony — which houses one of the state prison system’s only dedicated Jewish chapels — has some 35 inmates on the kosher diet plan. Since the phase-in of kosher meals several years ago, Moskowitz has been actively working to recruit Jewish chaplains. Still, he said, there simply aren’t enough chaplains to fill all the vacancies.
Moreover, the Board of Rabbis of Southern California — the ecclesiastical endorsing body for the state’s Department of Corrections — upholds high standards, according to Moskowitz. The “overwhelming majority” of Jewish chaplains are ordained rabbis, and those who are not have graduate degrees in Jewish studies and experience in chaplaincy work, he said.
California is one of several states, including New York, that have paid chaplains serving in their prisons. In many states, chaplaincy is a volunteer position, or one chaplain attends to all faith groups. California employs a total of 185 chaplains from five different religious groups: Protestants, Catholics, Native Americans, Jews and Muslims.
Jewish chaplains in California state prisons have a small pool from which to draw their congregants. Incarcerated Jews make up only one half to 1% of the state’s 170,000 inmates — a disproportionately low number.
The rabbinical board seeks to recruit rabbis who can work with Jews across the denominational spectrum, said Mark Diamond, board president. “If you’re a Reform rabbi, you’re going to work with Orthodox guys who want to put on tefillin, and if you’re a Chabad rabbi, you’re going to work with Jews whose Jewish identity is based on patrilineal descent,” Diamond said.
According to Diamond, the number of Chabad rabbis taking up the work is increasing. Currently, nine of the 24 full-time Jewish chaplains are from the Hasidic sect. Diamond explained that Chabad rabbis, who set up shop in far-flung corners of the globe as part of their overarching mission to reach Jews everywhere, are frequently those in closest geographic proximity to prisons built in remote locales.
Slavin, 30, is among them. Based in San Clemente, Calif., Slavin commutes an hour each way, twice a week, to San Diego’s Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility, which houses both low- and high-security inmates. His congregation numbers some 40 inmates out of a total prison population of 5,000. When the kosher diet plan was
first introduced two years ago, Slavin said, non-Jewish inmates began attending his services and claiming to be Jewish in order to get on the meal plan. “With the kosher diet, it became fashionable to be Jewish,” he said. He had worked to explain to the non-Jews that eating kosher was not a privilege, but rather a requirement for those who truly were observant Jews.
And working with Jewish inmates, Slavin said, is something of a privilege for him. “I’ll do it and help as much as I can until Moshiach comes, and there’s no more prisons.”
Tue. Jun 03, 2008
Los Angeles — Mendel Slavin went to work as a chaplain in a San Diego prison in 2006. A Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidic rabbi from the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn, he was one of about a dozen Jewish chaplains serving California’s fractional Jewish inmate population at the time. But in the two years since then, that number has
literally doubled. Today Slavin is one of two dozen full-time chaplains employed by the state of California to provide counseling and lead religious services for Jews — and interested non-Jews — who are doing time.
Why the sudden surge in the numbers of Jewish chaplains in the Golden State? Three words: kosher food supervision.
In 2003, the state of California settled a lawsuit with Victor Wayne Cooper, an Orthodox Jew serving a 60-year sentence for child molestation. Cooper had sued the state for not providing him with kosher meals. As part of the settlement, the state agreed to make good-faith efforts to have kosher food available to inmates in all of its 33 prisons by 2006.
As a direct result of the lawsuit, the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation has been scrambling in recent years, in conjunction with the Northern and Southern California boards of rabbis, to install a Jewish chaplain at every prison in order to oversee the preparation of kosher food.
A similar case in Texas is still pending. But that state’s answer to a lawsuit brought in 2005 on behalf of Max Moussazadeh, a Jew of Iranian descent, has been to consolidate all 23 of its kosher-observant inmates into one prison, bypassing the need for Jewish chaplains across the board.
The work extends far beyond merely vetting jailhouse kosher cuisine. According to one longtime Jewish chaplain, his niche is as close as a rabbi can come to performing missionary work.
“We work with the underbelly of society, the spiritually void, the morally empty,” said Rabbi Lon Moskowitz, the Jewish chaplain at California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo. “It’s important to have chaplains so we can facilitate the Jewish Kosher Diet Plan statewide, but it’s a requirement so that the spiritual needs of incarcerated Jews are met.”
Moskowitz, 52, is a former pulpit and Hillel rabbi who has worked at California Men’s Colony — perhaps the most scenic of the state prisons, built on Highway 1 along California’s stunning central coast — for 11 years. Among the inmates with whom he has worked most closely over the years, he said, including those who have become his clerks and helped with paperwork, there is a 0% rate of recidivism.
Moskowitz also sits on the prison system’s Jewish Kosher Diet Task Force. He estimates that California Men’s Colony — which houses one of the state prison system’s only dedicated Jewish chapels — has some 35 inmates on the kosher diet plan. Since the phase-in of kosher meals several years ago, Moskowitz has been actively working to recruit Jewish chaplains. Still, he said, there simply aren’t enough chaplains to fill all the vacancies.
Moreover, the Board of Rabbis of Southern California — the ecclesiastical endorsing body for the state’s Department of Corrections — upholds high standards, according to Moskowitz. The “overwhelming majority” of Jewish chaplains are ordained rabbis, and those who are not have graduate degrees in Jewish studies and experience in chaplaincy work, he said.
California is one of several states, including New York, that have paid chaplains serving in their prisons. In many states, chaplaincy is a volunteer position, or one chaplain attends to all faith groups. California employs a total of 185 chaplains from five different religious groups: Protestants, Catholics, Native Americans, Jews and Muslims.
Jewish chaplains in California state prisons have a small pool from which to draw their congregants. Incarcerated Jews make up only one half to 1% of the state’s 170,000 inmates — a disproportionately low number.
The rabbinical board seeks to recruit rabbis who can work with Jews across the denominational spectrum, said Mark Diamond, board president. “If you’re a Reform rabbi, you’re going to work with Orthodox guys who want to put on tefillin, and if you’re a Chabad rabbi, you’re going to work with Jews whose Jewish identity is based on patrilineal descent,” Diamond said.
According to Diamond, the number of Chabad rabbis taking up the work is increasing. Currently, nine of the 24 full-time Jewish chaplains are from the Hasidic sect. Diamond explained that Chabad rabbis, who set up shop in far-flung corners of the globe as part of their overarching mission to reach Jews everywhere, are frequently those in closest geographic proximity to prisons built in remote locales.
Slavin, 30, is among them. Based in San Clemente, Calif., Slavin commutes an hour each way, twice a week, to San Diego’s Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility, which houses both low- and high-security inmates. His congregation numbers some 40 inmates out of a total prison population of 5,000. When the kosher diet plan was
first introduced two years ago, Slavin said, non-Jewish inmates began attending his services and claiming to be Jewish in order to get on the meal plan. “With the kosher diet, it became fashionable to be Jewish,” he said. He had worked to explain to the non-Jews that eating kosher was not a privilege, but rather a requirement for those who truly were observant Jews.
And working with Jewish inmates, Slavin said, is something of a privilege for him. “I’ll do it and help as much as I can until Moshiach comes, and there’s no more prisons.”
Monday, May 19, 2008
Rabbi to open NZ's first kosher restaurant
The New York-based Chabad-Lubavitch sect of Hasidic Judaism – one of the largest Jewish movements worldwide – plans to set up a kosher restaurant in Christchurch.
The Chabad's rabbi in New Zealand, Mendel Goldstein, of Wellington, told the Jewish Telegraph Agency that the restaurant will be open by the end of the year at the group's premises in Christchurch.
He viewed the restaurant as a first step in building a future for New Zealand where "Jewish living is convenient and enjoyable" for travellers and the local Jewish population.
"It pains us to see people eating non-kosher because they have no other choice," the rabbi's wife, Sara Goldstein, co-director of the Chabad in NZ said.
The agency reported that about 20,000 Jews visit Christchurch each year, and that there is a population of about 10,000 Jews spread through New Zealand.
The restaurant will serve food prepared according to a set of often complicated rabbinical and biblical dietary laws which ban some foods such as pork or shellfish; do not allow meat and dairy products to be prepared in the same dishes, and require animals to be slaughtered on their backs, without stunning.
Rabbi Goldstein was arranging four ritual "seder" feasts for 500 Israeli travellers in New Zealand last month to mark Passover, when he rushed to Queenstown to join the search for Israeli backpacker Liat Okin. She was found dead last week.
The Chabad's rabbi in New Zealand, Mendel Goldstein, of Wellington, told the Jewish Telegraph Agency that the restaurant will be open by the end of the year at the group's premises in Christchurch.
He viewed the restaurant as a first step in building a future for New Zealand where "Jewish living is convenient and enjoyable" for travellers and the local Jewish population.
"It pains us to see people eating non-kosher because they have no other choice," the rabbi's wife, Sara Goldstein, co-director of the Chabad in NZ said.
The agency reported that about 20,000 Jews visit Christchurch each year, and that there is a population of about 10,000 Jews spread through New Zealand.
The restaurant will serve food prepared according to a set of often complicated rabbinical and biblical dietary laws which ban some foods such as pork or shellfish; do not allow meat and dairy products to be prepared in the same dishes, and require animals to be slaughtered on their backs, without stunning.
Rabbi Goldstein was arranging four ritual "seder" feasts for 500 Israeli travellers in New Zealand last month to mark Passover, when he rushed to Queenstown to join the search for Israeli backpacker Liat Okin. She was found dead last week.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Have prayers and Packers, too
Orthodox Jews worship at Lambeau tailgate
By BILL GLAUBER
Posted: Oct. 14, 2007
Green Bay -
If you're going to have a kosher tailgate at Lambeau Field, you might as well go all the way.
That means you light up the coals of the kosher grill and bring out the kosher hot dogs, beef, chicken and brats.
And you recite morning prayers in Hebrew, even if a rock band is on a nearby stage blaring "Brown Sugar."
So Sunday, Rabbi Shais Taub of the Chabad Lubavitch of Wisconsin led a group of 10 Orthodox Jews on a pilgrimage from Milwaukee deep into Packerland.
They tailgated across the street from Lambeau, in a grass-covered parking lot, next door to Kroll's West, where butter burgers - definitely not kosher - are a specialty.
And they prayed, with some of the men and their sons donning a prayer shawl called a tallit and phylacteries, two small leather boxes containing verses of Scripture.
They stood out amid the familiar green-and-gold sea. And they showed that people can find or express their faith at a house of worship or a house of sports.
Such a place, for morning prayers.
"What's the point?" Taub said. "Number one, Judaism is not relegated to the synagogue or the study hall. When you're a Jew, you're a Jew everywhere. If a group of Jews want to go to a Packer game, we do it like Jews."
"Number two, Jewish pride," he added. "Some Jews should see this and say, 'You know what, there is nothing to hide.' I can be openly and boldly Jewish and do that anywhere on earth and go where I want to go."
The men faced east toward Jerusalem, which also happened to the direction toward Lambeau Field. They prayed, rocking forward and back. Their voices mixed with the more familiar sounds of pre-game rituals at Lambeau.
Nearby, a few fans wore blank expressions on their faces, unsure of what was going on. A couple of people snapped photos. And nobody noticed that among the group was former Packers offensive lineman Alan Veingrad, who is now known as Shlomo Veingrad.
Veingrad still stands 6 feet 5, but he has dropped plenty of weight since his playing days. He now has a bushy, gray beard and beneath a Packers cap, he makes sure to wear a yarmulke.
"I think it's important to be proud of being Jewish," said Veingrad, who played for the Packers in the late 1980s and won a Super Bowl ring with the Dallas Cowboys in the 1990s.
Veingrad, now 44, lives in Florida and works as an account executive for a private lending company. He also gives speeches, detailing his quest for a more fulfilling and rewarding life. He became more observant in 2003.
"It's a beautiful thing that you can express your religion," he said.
And that's what the tailgate was all about - religion, food, friendship and, yes, even football.
After praying, Veingrad and a friend poured whiskey into a couple of small cups, said l'chaim and drank the sweet, smoky liquid.
And everyone ate.
Ten of the men and their sons had tickets for the Packers game against Washington. The kids wanted to go into the stadium while the fathers wanted to linger outside at the tailgate.
Not all of the men went into the stadium. Taub didn't have a ticket - it was tough enough to score 10 seats. And the grill guys, Sam Stern and his son, Nathan Stern, remained outside to clean up.
"We're here being Jews," Sam Stern said. "We're enjoying the Packers and enjoying the day."
That means you light up the coals of the kosher grill and bring out the kosher hot dogs, beef, chicken and brats.
And you recite morning prayers in Hebrew, even if a rock band is on a nearby stage blaring "Brown Sugar."
So Sunday, Rabbi Shais Taub of the Chabad Lubavitch of Wisconsin led a group of 10 Orthodox Jews on a pilgrimage from Milwaukee deep into Packerland.
They tailgated across the street from Lambeau, in a grass-covered parking lot, next door to Kroll's West, where butter burgers - definitely not kosher - are a specialty.
And they prayed, with some of the men and their sons donning a prayer shawl called a tallit and phylacteries, two small leather boxes containing verses of Scripture.
They stood out amid the familiar green-and-gold sea. And they showed that people can find or express their faith at a house of worship or a house of sports.
Such a place, for morning prayers.
"What's the point?" Taub said. "Number one, Judaism is not relegated to the synagogue or the study hall. When you're a Jew, you're a Jew everywhere. If a group of Jews want to go to a Packer game, we do it like Jews."
"Number two, Jewish pride," he added. "Some Jews should see this and say, 'You know what, there is nothing to hide.' I can be openly and boldly Jewish and do that anywhere on earth and go where I want to go."
The men faced east toward Jerusalem, which also happened to the direction toward Lambeau Field. They prayed, rocking forward and back. Their voices mixed with the more familiar sounds of pre-game rituals at Lambeau.
Nearby, a few fans wore blank expressions on their faces, unsure of what was going on. A couple of people snapped photos. And nobody noticed that among the group was former Packers offensive lineman Alan Veingrad, who is now known as Shlomo Veingrad.
Veingrad still stands 6 feet 5, but he has dropped plenty of weight since his playing days. He now has a bushy, gray beard and beneath a Packers cap, he makes sure to wear a yarmulke.
"I think it's important to be proud of being Jewish," said Veingrad, who played for the Packers in the late 1980s and won a Super Bowl ring with the Dallas Cowboys in the 1990s.
Veingrad, now 44, lives in Florida and works as an account executive for a private lending company. He also gives speeches, detailing his quest for a more fulfilling and rewarding life. He became more observant in 2003.
"It's a beautiful thing that you can express your religion," he said.
And that's what the tailgate was all about - religion, food, friendship and, yes, even football.
After praying, Veingrad and a friend poured whiskey into a couple of small cups, said l'chaim and drank the sweet, smoky liquid.
And everyone ate.
Ten of the men and their sons had tickets for the Packers game against Washington. The kids wanted to go into the stadium while the fathers wanted to linger outside at the tailgate.
Not all of the men went into the stadium. Taub didn't have a ticket - it was tough enough to score 10 seats. And the grill guys, Sam Stern and his son, Nathan Stern, remained outside to clean up.
"We're here being Jews," Sam Stern said. "We're enjoying the Packers and enjoying the day."
Sunday, January 14, 2007
TWO NIGHTS IN BANGKOK
We also had a fabulous time visiting the Chabad restaurant in Bangkok, which has been primarily set up to cater for the enormous numbers of Israeli backers in Thailand. The prices are set at local rates and you can chose between local-style cuisine as well as a range of Western or more traditional Jewish types of food.At lunch on our second day in Bangkok we met Rabbi Tuvia Bolton who had been brought to Bangkok to perform that evening at a Channukah dinner being held jointly by the Israeli Embassy and Chabad. Rabbi Bolton invited us to come along...and so we did. We found ourselves at an amazing barbeque filled with 100 or so Israelis, most of whom were residents of the city (either working with the embassy or involved with business in Thailand). The event seemed, to us, to signal the beginning of our journey inside the various guises of the Jewish world as they are manifest around the globe. It was a heart-warming beginning.
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