....“One day” says Ovadia, “the wife of the Milan Chabad rabbi called me. ‘I won’t change an iota of this show’ she told me. ‘This isn’t an orthodox play, not at all, but it helped people working with our school better understand us. In just two hours, this show accomplished what we have not been able to accomplish in two months: to clarify who we are, where we came from, why and how.’”
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Minyan before the Pats game
Fans of both teams daaven before kickoff
To a football fan, the hours before a game are sacred. Those hours are a communion for the fraternity of fans, a time when backseat coolers and portable grills transform stadium parking lots into a tailgate party.
subscribe to The Jewish Advocate email this page to a friend print this page email the editor
Last Sunday’s Patriots game was no exception. The New York Jets were in town – a division rival – for the first time since defeating the Pats 17-14 on their home turf. Adding to the drama was the win-or-go-home urgency of the playoffs.
Yet while most fans bonded over cold beers and grilled meats, a group of fans – supporters from both teams – met in a small corner of the Foxboro lot for quieter purposes: to say Minchah.
“It shows that if you really want to, you can find God wherever you are, under any circumstances,” said Rabbi Chaim Wolosow of the Chabad Center of Sharon. “We felt like the luckiest people in the universe to enjoy the game and still be able to pray. I would guess this was the first time a minyan was done at a Pats game.”
Earlier in the week, a group of New York fans contacted Wolosow to see if he knew enough people going to the game to form a minyan. Because of daylight restrictions, Minchah had to be said between 12:30 and 4 p.m., leaving a small window before the 1 p.m. kickoff. Planning on attending the game, Wolosow reached out to Sharon residents and found four other men with tickets – just enough to give them the required 10 for a minyan.
“They had the Jets shirts on and they got a few looks, and a little more than that from Pats fans,” said Wolosow. “We were OK, I guess, because we were on the right side. But for the service we all joined in together.”
As for the game, the Patriots won by 21 after letting the Jets hang around for the better part of four quarters. One would imagine that the ride home was especially deflating for those Jets fans. It’s a long ride back to New York before Ma’ariv.
To a football fan, the hours before a game are sacred. Those hours are a communion for the fraternity of fans, a time when backseat coolers and portable grills transform stadium parking lots into a tailgate party.
subscribe to The Jewish Advocate email this page to a friend print this page email the editor
Last Sunday’s Patriots game was no exception. The New York Jets were in town – a division rival – for the first time since defeating the Pats 17-14 on their home turf. Adding to the drama was the win-or-go-home urgency of the playoffs.
Yet while most fans bonded over cold beers and grilled meats, a group of fans – supporters from both teams – met in a small corner of the Foxboro lot for quieter purposes: to say Minchah.
“It shows that if you really want to, you can find God wherever you are, under any circumstances,” said Rabbi Chaim Wolosow of the Chabad Center of Sharon. “We felt like the luckiest people in the universe to enjoy the game and still be able to pray. I would guess this was the first time a minyan was done at a Pats game.”
Earlier in the week, a group of New York fans contacted Wolosow to see if he knew enough people going to the game to form a minyan. Because of daylight restrictions, Minchah had to be said between 12:30 and 4 p.m., leaving a small window before the 1 p.m. kickoff. Planning on attending the game, Wolosow reached out to Sharon residents and found four other men with tickets – just enough to give them the required 10 for a minyan.
“They had the Jets shirts on and they got a few looks, and a little more than that from Pats fans,” said Wolosow. “We were OK, I guess, because we were on the right side. But for the service we all joined in together.”
As for the game, the Patriots won by 21 after letting the Jets hang around for the better part of four quarters. One would imagine that the ride home was especially deflating for those Jets fans. It’s a long ride back to New York before Ma’ariv.
European Jews searching for an assertive voice
...The Chabad-Lubavitch movement gained influence across the continent, in some places setting up or sponsoring activities and institutions that paralleled those run by established Jewish communities. In Budapest, a Chabad-backed congregation was officially registered by the government as the revived incarnation of a prewar stream of Hungarian Jewry.
Is Orthodoxy Confronting Abuse?
Eugene L. Meyer and Richard Greenberg
JTA Wire Service
JANUARY 17, 2007
New York
Within Jewish circles, much of the focus on sexual predators has centered on the Orthodox community, particularly its more fervently religious precincts, where some contend that clergy sex abuse is more hidden -- and possibly more widespread -- than elsewhere.
Whether or not those contentions are true, the problem in that community was spotlighted by two recent episodes. They are among several incidents, emanating from across the denominational spectrum, that JTA examined in this five-part investigation of the Jewish community's response to clergy sex abuse.
The first of two episodes that JTA tracked in the fervently Orthodox, or haredi, community involved a fierce debate over remarks by a haredi rabbi who reportedly suggested that his community sweeps the issue "under the carpet." The second involved the arrest of a haredi rabbi and teacher, who was charged with sexual abuse and endangering the welfare of a minor.
On Thanksgiving, at the annual national convention of Agudath Israel of America, a haredi advocacy organization, Rabbi Matisyahu Salomon, a featured speaker, ignited a controversy with his discussion of the haredi response to clergy sex abuse.
Salomon, a dean of Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, N.J., one of the world's largest yeshivas, said, according to an Agudath Israel spokesman, that haredim are indeed guilty of "sweeping things under the carpet."
What he meant was open to interpretation. Salomon declined comment, but according to the Agudath Israel spokesman, Rabbi Avi Shafran, Salomon meant that rather than ignoring or covering up sexual misconduct, as detractors maintain, haredi officials deal with it discreetly to protect the dignity of the families of perpetrators and victims.
The response to Salomon's remarks was swift and often heated, with several Web site and blog contributors arguing that the rabbi's comments should be taken literally -- that is, haredi officials often look the other way when clergy sex abuse takes place in their midst.
Shafran, who accused the online detractors of making glib and sweeping generalizations without corroborating evidence, termed the comments "abhorrent."
Other communities were criticized as well on one Web site.
"Denial, secrecy, and sweeping under the carpet are not unique to charedi, Orthodox, or Jewish institutions," wrote Nachum Klafter, a self-described "frum psychiatrist," in a Nov. 26 posting on the Web site haloscan.com. "They are typical reactions of well-intentioned, scandalized human beings to the horrible shock of childhood sexual abuse."
Eleven days after those remarks were posted, a haredi rabbi, Yehuda Kolko, was arrested and charged in connection with the alleged molestation of a 9-year-old boy and a 31-year-old man, both former students of his during different eras at Brooklyn's Yeshiva-Mesivta Torah Temimah. Kolko, 60, had long served the yeshiva as a teacher and an assistant principal.
Kolko, meanwhile, is named in at least four civil suits filed over the past eight months by his alleged victims, including the 9-year-old boy. The most recent litigation, which seeks $10 million in damages from Torah Temimah, was filed in New York state court the day before Kolko was arrested. It alleges not only that Kolko molested the 9-year-old during the 2003-04 school year, but that the school administration covered up the rabbi's pedophilia for 25 years.
The suit charges that Rabbi Lipa Margulies, identified as the leader of Torah Temimah, knew of many "credible allegations of sexual abuse and pedophilia against Kolko," yet continued to employ him as an elementary school teacher "and give him unfettered access to young children."
Avi Moskowitz, the attorney representing Torah Temimah, said: "The yeshiva adamantly denies the allegations in the complaints and is sure that when the cases are over, the yeshiva will be vindicated."
Another one of the lawsuits brought against Torah Temimah was filed in May by David Framowitz, now 49 and living in Israel. In that $10 million federal litigation Framowitz, who was joined by a co-plaintiff also seeking $10 million, alleged that he was victimized by Kolko while he was a seventh- and eighth-grader at Torah Temimah.
Although the lawsuit, which named Kolko as a co-defendant, referred to Framowitz only as "John Doe No. 1," he has since dropped his anonymity and gone public with his story.
"That's the only way that people would believe that there's actually a problem, if they knew that there's a real person out there who was molested," Framowitz told JTA in a recent telephone interview. "There are many other victims out there, and I want people to know that this really exists."
Framowitz grew up in part in fervently Orthodox communities in Brooklyn where rabbinic sex abuse, he said, is rarely reported. And when it is reported, he added, rabbinic courts seldom have the expertise or the inclination to deal with it effectively.
After his own reports of abuse were met with disbelief and inaction, Framowitz said he chose to "deeply bury" his painful memories of the alleged incidents.
"I never really got over it," he said, "but I was able to get on with my life." An accountant by trade, Framowitz made aliyah several years ago, and now lives in the West Bank community of Karnei Shomron with his wife and four adult children. They have one grandson.
Framowitz said he decided to speak out publicly about his experience after he learned through the Internet in the fall of 2005 that Kolko was still teaching young boys. He said he is relieved that Kolko has been arrested and charged, although in connection with reported incidents unrelated to his alleged victimization.
"It's a relief knowing that the story is finally out there," Framowitz said, "and that maybe Kolko will be prevented from being around other kids."
JTA tried unsuccessfully to reach Kolko, who along with Framowitz was the focus of a May 15 New York magazine story that said "rabbi-on-child molestation," according to several sources, "is a widespread problem in the ultra-Orthodox Jewish community and one that has been long covered up."
Attorney Jeffrey Herman, who is representing the plaintiffs in the lawsuits stemming from Kolko's alleged misconduct, was quoted in the New York magazine piece saying that the clergy abuse situation in the haredi community "reminds me of where the Catholic church was 15 or 20 years ago. What I see are some members of the community turning a blind eye to what's going on in their backyards."
Hard numbers are not available to determine if clergy sex abuse is more widespread in haredi communities than in other Jewish locales. However, several insiders said there is anecdotal evidence that abuse often goes unreported there. The reason, they said, is that many individuals in those communities, which are noted for their insularity, resistance to modernity and reverence for religious leaders, are loath to confront rabbis for fear of being publicly shunned.
Shafran said he doubts that clergy sex abuse is more prevalent in the fervently Orthodox world than elsewhere. Asked whether victims there are afraid to report abuse, he said, "I hope it's not true. But it's easy to see how someone would be reluctant to publicly report such an issue."
He said modesty, which is prized by many haredim, might preclude the open discussion of matters "that are part of the average radio talk show agenda."
Others believe that underreporting of clergy sexual misconduct may in fact facilitate abuse.
"Offenders have learned to hide behind" the reluctance of victims to speak out, said Brian Leggiere, an Orthodox Jew and a psychiatrist in Manhattan who has treated both perpetrators and victims of sexual abuse. He added, though, "The situation is changing for the better, but very slowly. Each community is different, so it's hard to generalize."
In some neighborhoods, Leggiere pointed out, public safety is beginning to gain traction as an ideal worth defending, as is the notion that professional therapy or other forms of treatment for sex abuse victims, as well as for perpetrators, should not be stigmatized. Judging the judges Among many Orthodox Jews, the preferred forum for adjudicating communal disputes is a beit din, a rabbinic court. But critics say such panels often try to dissuade sex abuse victims from pursuing their complaints, a charge vigorously denied by Shafran. But, he added, "In cases where there is some degree of doubt, the beit din has a responsibility to counsel against going to authorities until there is proven criminal activity."
Mark Dratch, a modern Orthodox rabbi who chairs the Rabbinical Council of America's Task Force on Rabbinic Improprieties, said that if the beit din "is used to make the community safer, that's appropriate. If that relationship is used to bypass the justice system, I think that's wrong, particularly in cases of suspected criminal activity.
"The problem in the ultra-Orthodox community is people go to the beit din and not to civil authorities. There is a very complicated relationship between rabbis and civil authorities," he said. "It doesn't always work appropriately."
Dratch, who now directs JSafe, a nonprofit organization addressing abuse in the Jewish community, said he has "pleaded with members of Agudah to expose the dangers of clerical and familial abuse. I said if you don't expose, victims have no place to turn."
Agudath Israel has not promulgated anti-abuse policies for its affiliated congregations, Shafran conceded, "nor have there been complaints" of sexual misconduct at Agudath Israel-affiliated congregations. But he added, "I wouldn't rule out that one day there would be such guidelines. The Talmud teaches us that we should stay away from even the appearance of impropriety."
Agudath Israel does have binding behavioral guidelines that apply to its youth groups and its five summer camps, which serve about 2,000 youngsters, according to Shafran.
Yehuda Kolko worked at one of those camps, Camp Agudah in Ferndale, N.Y., decades ago, according to Shafran, apparently long before the behavioral guidelines existed.
The federal lawsuit filed in May states that while Kolko was at Camp Agudah, he repeatedly molested Framowitz, who was a camper there in the summers following his seventh- and eighth-grade years at Torah Temimah.
Framowitz's co-plaintiff -- "John Doe No. 2," an adult male living in the United States -- alleged that he also was abused by Kolko, but only at Torah Temimah. The lawsuit contends that the administrations at both the camp and the school knew Kolko was a pedophile and did nothing about it. Shafran declined comment on the litigation, which is being divided into two complaints, one for each plaintiff, according to attorney Herman. The complaint initiated by Framowitz has been dismissed on the plaintiffs' initiative but will be refiled, Framowitz and Herman said.
An attorney representing Kolko in the federal litigation declined comment on behalf of his client. The modern Orthodox community was deeply scarred by the sex abuse scandal involving Rabbi Baruch Lanner, a former regional director of the National Conference of Synagogue Youth, a branch of the centrist Orthodox Union. Lanner was sentenced in 2002 to seven years in prison for sexually abusing two female students during the 1990s while he was their principal at a yeshiva high school in New Jersey.
However, a 2000 report by a special O.U. commission found that Lanner had also sexually abused women and teenage girls, and physically abused boys and girls while he was a leader at NCSY. The case attracted widespread attention, in part, because the report said some O.U. and NCSY leaders had failed to take action for several years to halt Lanner's misconduct.
Ultimately, according to organization insiders, O.U. Executive Vice President Rabbi Raphael Butler resigned under pressure in the wake of the scandal.
Both the O.U. and the NCSY have upgraded behavioral guidelines and enhanced anti-abuse training programs, according to officials at both organizations. The NCSY policies, which cover 17 pages and were revised most recently in October, are binding on at least 25,000 individuals, including NCSY professionals, volunteers and program participants. The guidelines spell out prohibited conduct in detail, and include step-by-step instructions for filing an abuse complaint.
Both O.U. and NCSY officials said they are not aware of any complaints of sexual misconduct toward youths since the NCSY guidelines were upgraded a few years ago.
The Chabad-Lubavitch movement has no written conduct guidelines applying specifically to its estimated 4,000 global emissaries, known as shluchim, or its approximately 3,000 multi-use facilities that double as synagogues and are usually referred to as Chabad Houses.
However, many Chabad Houses have adopted behavioral policies originally formulated for the movement's schools, according to movement spokesman Rabbi Zalman Shmotkin.
In addition, according to Shmotkin, shluchim must strictly abide by the Shulchan Aruch, the 16th-century code of Jewish law that prohibits non-married or unrelated adults of the opposite sex from being secluded with each other.
Some of the denominational policies examined by JTA are designed to guard against situations that could result in inappropriate contact with minors, regardless of their sex. They mandate, for example, that at least two adults be present when a child is receiving private religious instruction. A non-seclusion requirement is among many anti-abuse provisions included in mandatory school behavioral policies adopted by Chabad about five years ago. The policies cover approximately 2,000 personnel at some 350 Chabad schools attended by about 24,000 students.
The policies also instruct school officials to consult two recognized rabbinic authorities -- one Chabad-affiliated and one not -- regarding the centuries-old Jewish legal injunction known as mesirah, which in some instances prohibits Jews from reporting Jewish perpetrators to non-Jewish authorities. Mesirah has been blamed for the reticence of some Orthodox sex abuse victims to go public with their complaints. In a spring 2004 article in the anti-abuse publication Working Together, Dratch of JSafe said that in cases of child sex abuse, "the consensus of contemporary Jewish religious authorities is that such reporting is religiously mandatory."
Three years ago, several safeguards were adopted by Torah Umesorah-The National Society for Hebrew Day Schools, a service organization -- the largest of its kind in the United States -- that provides religious educational materials for nearly 200,000 Orthodox students spanning that denomination's ideological spectrum.
The Torah Umesorah guidelines, which were presented to school principals, warn teachers and other staffers to refrain from sexually immodest behavior or speech and from inappropriate touching. They also prohibit school personnel from being secluded with students.
But the guidelines are nonbinding because each of the hundreds of schools served by Torah Umesorah are self-governing.
"We're a service agency, not a governing agency," Rabbi Joshua Fishman, the organization's executive vice president, told JTA.
Elliot Pasik, a New York attorney and children's rights advocate, said the way in which the guidelines were distributed calls into question Torah Umesorah's commitment to protecting students from sexually predatory teachers and other staffers.
The guidelines were accompanied by a Sept. 24, 2003, cover letter signed by Fishman that said in part: "This document should be maintained with a sense of confidentiality. It should only be shared with your educational administrative and teaching staff."
Perhaps as a result of that directive, Pasik said few, if any, parents he knows with children attending schools serviced by Torah Umesorah were told about the rules unless they called the Torah Umesorah national office in Manhattan. Pasik's children have attended yeshivas affiliated with Torah Umesorah.
Furthermore, he added, "I have personally spoken with several teachers and they knew nothing about these guidelines."
Asked to respond, Fishman declined comment, except to say, "We believe that molesters should be reported."
Pasik said the situation shows the need for a centralized governing body -- perhaps a state or federal agency -- that can hold schools accountable for the safety of students.
"It's hard for people in any organization to govern themselves," he said. "We're not being patrolled or governed by anybody."
Pasik recently lobbied for passage of legislation in New York that authorizes non-public schools to require fingerprinting and FBI background checks for prospective employees. The measure was enacted Aug. 16.
The larger issue of child molestation in the Orthodox community was addressed in a one-page statement accompanying the Torah Umesorah guidelines.
Issued by the organization's rabbinical board, the statement says in part that "a small number of individuals have caused untold pain to many children. In addition to the sins which they have committed, they have created painful memories in the minds of their victims, memories which can have a devastating lifetime impact."
The statement urges "everyone to use every means to stop these violations of children, including, at times, exposing the identities of the abusers and even their incarceration. At times, our primary intent may not be to punish the perpetrators, but rather to help them. Therefore, it is preferable, wherever appropriate, to force them to undergo appropriate professional therapy."
JTA Wire Service
JANUARY 17, 2007
New York
Within Jewish circles, much of the focus on sexual predators has centered on the Orthodox community, particularly its more fervently religious precincts, where some contend that clergy sex abuse is more hidden -- and possibly more widespread -- than elsewhere.
Whether or not those contentions are true, the problem in that community was spotlighted by two recent episodes. They are among several incidents, emanating from across the denominational spectrum, that JTA examined in this five-part investigation of the Jewish community's response to clergy sex abuse.
The first of two episodes that JTA tracked in the fervently Orthodox, or haredi, community involved a fierce debate over remarks by a haredi rabbi who reportedly suggested that his community sweeps the issue "under the carpet." The second involved the arrest of a haredi rabbi and teacher, who was charged with sexual abuse and endangering the welfare of a minor.
On Thanksgiving, at the annual national convention of Agudath Israel of America, a haredi advocacy organization, Rabbi Matisyahu Salomon, a featured speaker, ignited a controversy with his discussion of the haredi response to clergy sex abuse.
Salomon, a dean of Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, N.J., one of the world's largest yeshivas, said, according to an Agudath Israel spokesman, that haredim are indeed guilty of "sweeping things under the carpet."
What he meant was open to interpretation. Salomon declined comment, but according to the Agudath Israel spokesman, Rabbi Avi Shafran, Salomon meant that rather than ignoring or covering up sexual misconduct, as detractors maintain, haredi officials deal with it discreetly to protect the dignity of the families of perpetrators and victims.
The response to Salomon's remarks was swift and often heated, with several Web site and blog contributors arguing that the rabbi's comments should be taken literally -- that is, haredi officials often look the other way when clergy sex abuse takes place in their midst.
Shafran, who accused the online detractors of making glib and sweeping generalizations without corroborating evidence, termed the comments "abhorrent."
Other communities were criticized as well on one Web site.
"Denial, secrecy, and sweeping under the carpet are not unique to charedi, Orthodox, or Jewish institutions," wrote Nachum Klafter, a self-described "frum psychiatrist," in a Nov. 26 posting on the Web site haloscan.com. "They are typical reactions of well-intentioned, scandalized human beings to the horrible shock of childhood sexual abuse."
Eleven days after those remarks were posted, a haredi rabbi, Yehuda Kolko, was arrested and charged in connection with the alleged molestation of a 9-year-old boy and a 31-year-old man, both former students of his during different eras at Brooklyn's Yeshiva-Mesivta Torah Temimah. Kolko, 60, had long served the yeshiva as a teacher and an assistant principal.
Kolko, meanwhile, is named in at least four civil suits filed over the past eight months by his alleged victims, including the 9-year-old boy. The most recent litigation, which seeks $10 million in damages from Torah Temimah, was filed in New York state court the day before Kolko was arrested. It alleges not only that Kolko molested the 9-year-old during the 2003-04 school year, but that the school administration covered up the rabbi's pedophilia for 25 years.
The suit charges that Rabbi Lipa Margulies, identified as the leader of Torah Temimah, knew of many "credible allegations of sexual abuse and pedophilia against Kolko," yet continued to employ him as an elementary school teacher "and give him unfettered access to young children."
Avi Moskowitz, the attorney representing Torah Temimah, said: "The yeshiva adamantly denies the allegations in the complaints and is sure that when the cases are over, the yeshiva will be vindicated."
Another one of the lawsuits brought against Torah Temimah was filed in May by David Framowitz, now 49 and living in Israel. In that $10 million federal litigation Framowitz, who was joined by a co-plaintiff also seeking $10 million, alleged that he was victimized by Kolko while he was a seventh- and eighth-grader at Torah Temimah.
Although the lawsuit, which named Kolko as a co-defendant, referred to Framowitz only as "John Doe No. 1," he has since dropped his anonymity and gone public with his story.
"That's the only way that people would believe that there's actually a problem, if they knew that there's a real person out there who was molested," Framowitz told JTA in a recent telephone interview. "There are many other victims out there, and I want people to know that this really exists."
Framowitz grew up in part in fervently Orthodox communities in Brooklyn where rabbinic sex abuse, he said, is rarely reported. And when it is reported, he added, rabbinic courts seldom have the expertise or the inclination to deal with it effectively.
After his own reports of abuse were met with disbelief and inaction, Framowitz said he chose to "deeply bury" his painful memories of the alleged incidents.
"I never really got over it," he said, "but I was able to get on with my life." An accountant by trade, Framowitz made aliyah several years ago, and now lives in the West Bank community of Karnei Shomron with his wife and four adult children. They have one grandson.
Framowitz said he decided to speak out publicly about his experience after he learned through the Internet in the fall of 2005 that Kolko was still teaching young boys. He said he is relieved that Kolko has been arrested and charged, although in connection with reported incidents unrelated to his alleged victimization.
"It's a relief knowing that the story is finally out there," Framowitz said, "and that maybe Kolko will be prevented from being around other kids."
JTA tried unsuccessfully to reach Kolko, who along with Framowitz was the focus of a May 15 New York magazine story that said "rabbi-on-child molestation," according to several sources, "is a widespread problem in the ultra-Orthodox Jewish community and one that has been long covered up."
Attorney Jeffrey Herman, who is representing the plaintiffs in the lawsuits stemming from Kolko's alleged misconduct, was quoted in the New York magazine piece saying that the clergy abuse situation in the haredi community "reminds me of where the Catholic church was 15 or 20 years ago. What I see are some members of the community turning a blind eye to what's going on in their backyards."
Hard numbers are not available to determine if clergy sex abuse is more widespread in haredi communities than in other Jewish locales. However, several insiders said there is anecdotal evidence that abuse often goes unreported there. The reason, they said, is that many individuals in those communities, which are noted for their insularity, resistance to modernity and reverence for religious leaders, are loath to confront rabbis for fear of being publicly shunned.
Shafran said he doubts that clergy sex abuse is more prevalent in the fervently Orthodox world than elsewhere. Asked whether victims there are afraid to report abuse, he said, "I hope it's not true. But it's easy to see how someone would be reluctant to publicly report such an issue."
He said modesty, which is prized by many haredim, might preclude the open discussion of matters "that are part of the average radio talk show agenda."
Others believe that underreporting of clergy sexual misconduct may in fact facilitate abuse.
"Offenders have learned to hide behind" the reluctance of victims to speak out, said Brian Leggiere, an Orthodox Jew and a psychiatrist in Manhattan who has treated both perpetrators and victims of sexual abuse. He added, though, "The situation is changing for the better, but very slowly. Each community is different, so it's hard to generalize."
In some neighborhoods, Leggiere pointed out, public safety is beginning to gain traction as an ideal worth defending, as is the notion that professional therapy or other forms of treatment for sex abuse victims, as well as for perpetrators, should not be stigmatized. Judging the judges Among many Orthodox Jews, the preferred forum for adjudicating communal disputes is a beit din, a rabbinic court. But critics say such panels often try to dissuade sex abuse victims from pursuing their complaints, a charge vigorously denied by Shafran. But, he added, "In cases where there is some degree of doubt, the beit din has a responsibility to counsel against going to authorities until there is proven criminal activity."
Mark Dratch, a modern Orthodox rabbi who chairs the Rabbinical Council of America's Task Force on Rabbinic Improprieties, said that if the beit din "is used to make the community safer, that's appropriate. If that relationship is used to bypass the justice system, I think that's wrong, particularly in cases of suspected criminal activity.
"The problem in the ultra-Orthodox community is people go to the beit din and not to civil authorities. There is a very complicated relationship between rabbis and civil authorities," he said. "It doesn't always work appropriately."
Dratch, who now directs JSafe, a nonprofit organization addressing abuse in the Jewish community, said he has "pleaded with members of Agudah to expose the dangers of clerical and familial abuse. I said if you don't expose, victims have no place to turn."
Agudath Israel has not promulgated anti-abuse policies for its affiliated congregations, Shafran conceded, "nor have there been complaints" of sexual misconduct at Agudath Israel-affiliated congregations. But he added, "I wouldn't rule out that one day there would be such guidelines. The Talmud teaches us that we should stay away from even the appearance of impropriety."
Agudath Israel does have binding behavioral guidelines that apply to its youth groups and its five summer camps, which serve about 2,000 youngsters, according to Shafran.
Yehuda Kolko worked at one of those camps, Camp Agudah in Ferndale, N.Y., decades ago, according to Shafran, apparently long before the behavioral guidelines existed.
The federal lawsuit filed in May states that while Kolko was at Camp Agudah, he repeatedly molested Framowitz, who was a camper there in the summers following his seventh- and eighth-grade years at Torah Temimah.
Framowitz's co-plaintiff -- "John Doe No. 2," an adult male living in the United States -- alleged that he also was abused by Kolko, but only at Torah Temimah. The lawsuit contends that the administrations at both the camp and the school knew Kolko was a pedophile and did nothing about it. Shafran declined comment on the litigation, which is being divided into two complaints, one for each plaintiff, according to attorney Herman. The complaint initiated by Framowitz has been dismissed on the plaintiffs' initiative but will be refiled, Framowitz and Herman said.
An attorney representing Kolko in the federal litigation declined comment on behalf of his client. The modern Orthodox community was deeply scarred by the sex abuse scandal involving Rabbi Baruch Lanner, a former regional director of the National Conference of Synagogue Youth, a branch of the centrist Orthodox Union. Lanner was sentenced in 2002 to seven years in prison for sexually abusing two female students during the 1990s while he was their principal at a yeshiva high school in New Jersey.
However, a 2000 report by a special O.U. commission found that Lanner had also sexually abused women and teenage girls, and physically abused boys and girls while he was a leader at NCSY. The case attracted widespread attention, in part, because the report said some O.U. and NCSY leaders had failed to take action for several years to halt Lanner's misconduct.
Ultimately, according to organization insiders, O.U. Executive Vice President Rabbi Raphael Butler resigned under pressure in the wake of the scandal.
Both the O.U. and the NCSY have upgraded behavioral guidelines and enhanced anti-abuse training programs, according to officials at both organizations. The NCSY policies, which cover 17 pages and were revised most recently in October, are binding on at least 25,000 individuals, including NCSY professionals, volunteers and program participants. The guidelines spell out prohibited conduct in detail, and include step-by-step instructions for filing an abuse complaint.
Both O.U. and NCSY officials said they are not aware of any complaints of sexual misconduct toward youths since the NCSY guidelines were upgraded a few years ago.
The Chabad-Lubavitch movement has no written conduct guidelines applying specifically to its estimated 4,000 global emissaries, known as shluchim, or its approximately 3,000 multi-use facilities that double as synagogues and are usually referred to as Chabad Houses.
However, many Chabad Houses have adopted behavioral policies originally formulated for the movement's schools, according to movement spokesman Rabbi Zalman Shmotkin.
In addition, according to Shmotkin, shluchim must strictly abide by the Shulchan Aruch, the 16th-century code of Jewish law that prohibits non-married or unrelated adults of the opposite sex from being secluded with each other.
Some of the denominational policies examined by JTA are designed to guard against situations that could result in inappropriate contact with minors, regardless of their sex. They mandate, for example, that at least two adults be present when a child is receiving private religious instruction. A non-seclusion requirement is among many anti-abuse provisions included in mandatory school behavioral policies adopted by Chabad about five years ago. The policies cover approximately 2,000 personnel at some 350 Chabad schools attended by about 24,000 students.
The policies also instruct school officials to consult two recognized rabbinic authorities -- one Chabad-affiliated and one not -- regarding the centuries-old Jewish legal injunction known as mesirah, which in some instances prohibits Jews from reporting Jewish perpetrators to non-Jewish authorities. Mesirah has been blamed for the reticence of some Orthodox sex abuse victims to go public with their complaints. In a spring 2004 article in the anti-abuse publication Working Together, Dratch of JSafe said that in cases of child sex abuse, "the consensus of contemporary Jewish religious authorities is that such reporting is religiously mandatory."
Three years ago, several safeguards were adopted by Torah Umesorah-The National Society for Hebrew Day Schools, a service organization -- the largest of its kind in the United States -- that provides religious educational materials for nearly 200,000 Orthodox students spanning that denomination's ideological spectrum.
The Torah Umesorah guidelines, which were presented to school principals, warn teachers and other staffers to refrain from sexually immodest behavior or speech and from inappropriate touching. They also prohibit school personnel from being secluded with students.
But the guidelines are nonbinding because each of the hundreds of schools served by Torah Umesorah are self-governing.
"We're a service agency, not a governing agency," Rabbi Joshua Fishman, the organization's executive vice president, told JTA.
Elliot Pasik, a New York attorney and children's rights advocate, said the way in which the guidelines were distributed calls into question Torah Umesorah's commitment to protecting students from sexually predatory teachers and other staffers.
The guidelines were accompanied by a Sept. 24, 2003, cover letter signed by Fishman that said in part: "This document should be maintained with a sense of confidentiality. It should only be shared with your educational administrative and teaching staff."
Perhaps as a result of that directive, Pasik said few, if any, parents he knows with children attending schools serviced by Torah Umesorah were told about the rules unless they called the Torah Umesorah national office in Manhattan. Pasik's children have attended yeshivas affiliated with Torah Umesorah.
Furthermore, he added, "I have personally spoken with several teachers and they knew nothing about these guidelines."
Asked to respond, Fishman declined comment, except to say, "We believe that molesters should be reported."
Pasik said the situation shows the need for a centralized governing body -- perhaps a state or federal agency -- that can hold schools accountable for the safety of students.
"It's hard for people in any organization to govern themselves," he said. "We're not being patrolled or governed by anybody."
Pasik recently lobbied for passage of legislation in New York that authorizes non-public schools to require fingerprinting and FBI background checks for prospective employees. The measure was enacted Aug. 16.
The larger issue of child molestation in the Orthodox community was addressed in a one-page statement accompanying the Torah Umesorah guidelines.
Issued by the organization's rabbinical board, the statement says in part that "a small number of individuals have caused untold pain to many children. In addition to the sins which they have committed, they have created painful memories in the minds of their victims, memories which can have a devastating lifetime impact."
The statement urges "everyone to use every means to stop these violations of children, including, at times, exposing the identities of the abusers and even their incarceration. At times, our primary intent may not be to punish the perpetrators, but rather to help them. Therefore, it is preferable, wherever appropriate, to force them to undergo appropriate professional therapy."
Renewal Wants to Keep Same Spirit While Standardizing Rabbis' Training
BOULDER, Colo., Jan. 15 (JTA) -- Karyn Berger, a slight, dark-haired woman wearing a royal blue prayer shawl, steps up to the microphone to introduce herself and her four colleagues. All are about to be ordained as Jewish Renewal spiritual leaders -- two rabbis, two rabbinic pastors and one cantor.
"We were born in Austria, Budapest, the Bronx, Toronto and Oklahoma," she begins. "We grew up atheist, Reform kosher, socialist-Zionist. Two of us went to Orthodox yeshivas. Our average age is 49, and collectively we've been married for 75 years."
When the laughter dies down, Berger, a doctoral student of medieval Arabic and Hebrew poetry, continues more seriously.
"All five of us got our call to serve, and here we are," she said. "Our calling is to heal souls -- the souls of the Jewish people."
The candidates' teachers and mentors are then called up to stand behind their former students, who literally lean back into the arms of those who taught them, receiving ordination via hands-on transmission.
This very personal, emotion-filled ceremony on Jan. 7 -- the highlight of the annual Ohalah convention, the professional association of Renewal rabbis -- is in keeping with the mission of Jewish Renewal.
It's an egalitarian, neo-Chasidic Jewish practice that is reaching for greater internal consistency and standardization of its rabbinic training.
Often derided or acclaimed as "New Age Judaism," Renewal focuses on environmentalism and direct spiritual connection to the Divine. It's part of the burgeoning world of transdenominational Judaism -- the growing number of synagogues, rabbis and prayer groups that eschew affiliation with a Jewish stream.
Renewal rabbis share the same cross-denominational sensibility.
"I've prayed and worked in all the denominations," said Rabbi Alicia Magal, ordained in 2003. "Wherever I am, a part of me is very comfortable and a part of me says this could be different. I'm a bridge; I never completely fit in any place."
Renewal is "not a denomination," but an attempt to revitalize Jewish practice by emphasizing its spiritual depths, says Rabbi Marcia Prager, dean of the rabbinic program for Aleph: Alliance for Jewish Renewal. The approach was developed four decades ago by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, a former Chabad-Lubavitch rabbi who is still the movement's spiritual head.
Renewal today claims 40 affiliated congregations. Since 1974, 112 Renewal spiritual leaders have been ordained -- 98 rabbis, three cantors and 11 rabbinic pastors. Sixty are graduates of the Aleph rabbinic program, created in the late 1990s to bring greater consistency to the course of study and relieve the pressure on Schachter-Shalomi, who had been personally overseeing each student's progress.
The Aleph program differs from other seminaries in that it is completely off-site. Each student has an individualized program developed and overseen by a mentoring committee. That can include classes at other seminaries, synagogues and universities, independent reading and traditional hevruta, or Torah study in pairs, as well as teleconference courses led by Aleph teachers.
In addition to Hebrew, Jewish text, history and philosophy, and professional development courses, Renewal students study Chasidic literature and philosophy, meditation and prayer, and are each assigned a mashpia, or mentor, who guides their personal religious journey. The mashpia system is a staple in the Chasidic world.
Other seminaries offer electives in spiritual direction -- 75 percent of the students at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College take it each year -- but Aleph requires it.
"They have to know Bible and Talmud, of course, but we have made spiritual direction the core," said Rabbi Victor Gross, a former Conservative rabbi who is now on Aleph's central teaching committee.
Whereas other seminaries have carefully structured five-year rabbinic programs -- six if a preparatory year is required -- an Aleph course can take from two to 10 years or more. Few students are full-time; most are older and cannot leave family and career behind to attend a traditional seminary.
"Many of the people we ordain do not work as full-time rabbis," said Aleph treasurer David Rafsky. "They do it for the love of it. It's a midlife, mid-career add-on to already successful careers."
The 2005 class of 10 rabbis, for example, included a physician, two lawyers and three people with doctorates. One of the lawyers was Eli Cohen, a former public defender in Santa Cruz, Calif., where he now serves as a Renewal pulpit rabbi.
When Cohen's interests turned to Jewish studies, he felt Renewal best matched his spiritual leanings.
"How could I best serve God?" he wondered. "For me that meant following my heart, and that meant Renewal."
Laura Kaplan was a philosophy professor at the University of North Carolina when she received her Renewal ordination two years ago. Leaving her safe tenured position meant "there was something very compelling to me about moving from academia to the world of spirit and serving people," she said.
Daniel Siegel, the first Renewal rabbi ordained by Schachter-Shalomi in 1974 and now an Aleph teacher, says each seminary has its strengths: Aleph's focus is pastoral care.
"We're trying to train people who are drawn to the service of other people," he said.
Leaders of other seminaries raise concerns about Aleph, not for the quality or sincerity of its students or faculty, but for its lack of standardization.
Rabbi Dan Ehrenkrantz, president of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College, notes that Aleph has not sought accreditation, and he questions its reliance on distance learning.
"Our program is five or six years for a reason," Ehrenkrantz said. "We want people to have certain socialization experiences that are crucial in the development of a rabbinic identity."
"If someone is called 'rabbi,' it presumes piety and a deep knowledge of Jewish text and Jewish tradition, as well as ethics, integrity and leadership," said Rabbi William Lebeau, dean of the rabbinical school at the Conservative movement's Jewish Theological Seminary, noting that he is describing what his school offers, not what Aleph may lack. "If other programs are giving that to their students, I have no argument with them."
In fact, when prospective students approach Aleph, if their goal is to become a pulpit rabbi they are encouraged to enter another seminary to increase their job opportunities. Many have done so, ending up with double ordination.
Magal was already well along in her Aleph studies when she decided to seek concurrent ordination from the Academy of Jewish Religion, a nondenominational seminary founded in New York in 1956 that has a new Los Angeles branch. She says she missed "rubbing elbows with other students."
Part of the lack of standardization is intentional.
"The key to Renewal is autonomy," Schachter-Shalomi told the Ohalah gathering. "We bring heart to the situation. We bring compassion."
But it's also something Aleph's leadership is working hard to change. The establishment of the school in 1995 was itself an attempt to bring greater consistency to the preparation of Renewal rabbis, a process that continues. There's an extensive application process, course work is continually evaluated and two years ago a stable curriculum was created with courses that rotate.
The creation of Ohalah was a second step in the same direction, says Aleph board member Rabbi Pam Frydman Baugh, immediate past president of Ohalah. "In the early days a person who was ordained was out on their own," she said. "Now we have Ohalah to provide things rabbis need as they move forward in their profession."
But she acknowledged that Renewal is still fighting for acceptance. That's nothing new: When Reconstructionism emerged in the early 20th century, the other denominations looked askance.
"Then Renewal came around, and Reconstructionism became part of the establishment," Baugh said.
One day, Renewal, too, could be supplanted. But for now, she admits, "we have that chip on our shoulder that comes from being the new kid on the block."
"We were born in Austria, Budapest, the Bronx, Toronto and Oklahoma," she begins. "We grew up atheist, Reform kosher, socialist-Zionist. Two of us went to Orthodox yeshivas. Our average age is 49, and collectively we've been married for 75 years."
When the laughter dies down, Berger, a doctoral student of medieval Arabic and Hebrew poetry, continues more seriously.
"All five of us got our call to serve, and here we are," she said. "Our calling is to heal souls -- the souls of the Jewish people."
The candidates' teachers and mentors are then called up to stand behind their former students, who literally lean back into the arms of those who taught them, receiving ordination via hands-on transmission.
This very personal, emotion-filled ceremony on Jan. 7 -- the highlight of the annual Ohalah convention, the professional association of Renewal rabbis -- is in keeping with the mission of Jewish Renewal.
It's an egalitarian, neo-Chasidic Jewish practice that is reaching for greater internal consistency and standardization of its rabbinic training.
Often derided or acclaimed as "New Age Judaism," Renewal focuses on environmentalism and direct spiritual connection to the Divine. It's part of the burgeoning world of transdenominational Judaism -- the growing number of synagogues, rabbis and prayer groups that eschew affiliation with a Jewish stream.
Renewal rabbis share the same cross-denominational sensibility.
"I've prayed and worked in all the denominations," said Rabbi Alicia Magal, ordained in 2003. "Wherever I am, a part of me is very comfortable and a part of me says this could be different. I'm a bridge; I never completely fit in any place."
Renewal is "not a denomination," but an attempt to revitalize Jewish practice by emphasizing its spiritual depths, says Rabbi Marcia Prager, dean of the rabbinic program for Aleph: Alliance for Jewish Renewal. The approach was developed four decades ago by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, a former Chabad-Lubavitch rabbi who is still the movement's spiritual head.
Renewal today claims 40 affiliated congregations. Since 1974, 112 Renewal spiritual leaders have been ordained -- 98 rabbis, three cantors and 11 rabbinic pastors. Sixty are graduates of the Aleph rabbinic program, created in the late 1990s to bring greater consistency to the course of study and relieve the pressure on Schachter-Shalomi, who had been personally overseeing each student's progress.
The Aleph program differs from other seminaries in that it is completely off-site. Each student has an individualized program developed and overseen by a mentoring committee. That can include classes at other seminaries, synagogues and universities, independent reading and traditional hevruta, or Torah study in pairs, as well as teleconference courses led by Aleph teachers.
In addition to Hebrew, Jewish text, history and philosophy, and professional development courses, Renewal students study Chasidic literature and philosophy, meditation and prayer, and are each assigned a mashpia, or mentor, who guides their personal religious journey. The mashpia system is a staple in the Chasidic world.
Other seminaries offer electives in spiritual direction -- 75 percent of the students at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College take it each year -- but Aleph requires it.
"They have to know Bible and Talmud, of course, but we have made spiritual direction the core," said Rabbi Victor Gross, a former Conservative rabbi who is now on Aleph's central teaching committee.
Whereas other seminaries have carefully structured five-year rabbinic programs -- six if a preparatory year is required -- an Aleph course can take from two to 10 years or more. Few students are full-time; most are older and cannot leave family and career behind to attend a traditional seminary.
"Many of the people we ordain do not work as full-time rabbis," said Aleph treasurer David Rafsky. "They do it for the love of it. It's a midlife, mid-career add-on to already successful careers."
The 2005 class of 10 rabbis, for example, included a physician, two lawyers and three people with doctorates. One of the lawyers was Eli Cohen, a former public defender in Santa Cruz, Calif., where he now serves as a Renewal pulpit rabbi.
When Cohen's interests turned to Jewish studies, he felt Renewal best matched his spiritual leanings.
"How could I best serve God?" he wondered. "For me that meant following my heart, and that meant Renewal."
Laura Kaplan was a philosophy professor at the University of North Carolina when she received her Renewal ordination two years ago. Leaving her safe tenured position meant "there was something very compelling to me about moving from academia to the world of spirit and serving people," she said.
Daniel Siegel, the first Renewal rabbi ordained by Schachter-Shalomi in 1974 and now an Aleph teacher, says each seminary has its strengths: Aleph's focus is pastoral care.
"We're trying to train people who are drawn to the service of other people," he said.
Leaders of other seminaries raise concerns about Aleph, not for the quality or sincerity of its students or faculty, but for its lack of standardization.
Rabbi Dan Ehrenkrantz, president of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College, notes that Aleph has not sought accreditation, and he questions its reliance on distance learning.
"Our program is five or six years for a reason," Ehrenkrantz said. "We want people to have certain socialization experiences that are crucial in the development of a rabbinic identity."
"If someone is called 'rabbi,' it presumes piety and a deep knowledge of Jewish text and Jewish tradition, as well as ethics, integrity and leadership," said Rabbi William Lebeau, dean of the rabbinical school at the Conservative movement's Jewish Theological Seminary, noting that he is describing what his school offers, not what Aleph may lack. "If other programs are giving that to their students, I have no argument with them."
In fact, when prospective students approach Aleph, if their goal is to become a pulpit rabbi they are encouraged to enter another seminary to increase their job opportunities. Many have done so, ending up with double ordination.
Magal was already well along in her Aleph studies when she decided to seek concurrent ordination from the Academy of Jewish Religion, a nondenominational seminary founded in New York in 1956 that has a new Los Angeles branch. She says she missed "rubbing elbows with other students."
Part of the lack of standardization is intentional.
"The key to Renewal is autonomy," Schachter-Shalomi told the Ohalah gathering. "We bring heart to the situation. We bring compassion."
But it's also something Aleph's leadership is working hard to change. The establishment of the school in 1995 was itself an attempt to bring greater consistency to the preparation of Renewal rabbis, a process that continues. There's an extensive application process, course work is continually evaluated and two years ago a stable curriculum was created with courses that rotate.
The creation of Ohalah was a second step in the same direction, says Aleph board member Rabbi Pam Frydman Baugh, immediate past president of Ohalah. "In the early days a person who was ordained was out on their own," she said. "Now we have Ohalah to provide things rabbis need as they move forward in their profession."
But she acknowledged that Renewal is still fighting for acceptance. That's nothing new: When Reconstructionism emerged in the early 20th century, the other denominations looked askance.
"Then Renewal came around, and Reconstructionism became part of the establishment," Baugh said.
One day, Renewal, too, could be supplanted. But for now, she admits, "we have that chip on our shoulder that comes from being the new kid on the block."
The Rebbe and the rocket scientist
Yocheved Miriam Russo,
THE JERUSALEM POST
Jan. 10, 2007
My life is a series of footnotes," says Velvl Greene, 78, now retired as professor emeritus from both the University of Minnesota and Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. "I was at the right place at the right time. Big things were happening, and I took advantage to be involved."
Greene, a biologist, earned his first national reputation under fire when a devastating outbreak of Staphylococcus took place in Louisiana, where he was teaching. He earned his second reputation as a principal scientist for NASA in the 'man on the moon' project. Today, he travels internationally to speak on the topic of science and religion, a career that began when he became a close associate and emissary for Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
Greene was born into a secular but staunchly Zionist family in Winnipeg, Canada. "I went to a Jewish day school - $3 a month, which was hard for my parents to raise," he says. "I learned Yiddish, not Hebrew - Hebrew was for davening, which we didn't do. We studied Jewish holidays, but only in modern terms - Pessah was a festival of Jewish liberation. But the overriding goal for us as kids was to move to Israel. So I studied agriculture when I enrolled at the University of Manitoba. That would be useful in Israel."
Greene earned a masters degree in dairy science and bacteriology, then joined the flow of Manitoba students to Minnesota for his doctorate. "The joke was, we were going to Minnesota to get warm," he says.
The first footnote appears in 1956. "The president of a small college in Louisiana called, saying he was looking for professors. Gail and I were newlyweds and I'd just received my PhD. There was a crisis at the college - the courts had just ordered it desegregated, and half of the faculty resigned. I was young, idealistic, Jewish and qualified, so we decided to go. We drove to Lafayette, and I began teaching bacteriology to students with little academic background, and all of whom - black and white -spoke Cajun French."
Greene also became the 'rabbi' of the small Jewish community. "I didn't know how to read Hebrew, I didn't know much about kashrut or Shabbat. I couldn't read the Torah. But I was the only one who knew the Hebrew alphabet and I had an academic gown. That was enough."
The next footnote appears in 1957, with Lafayette's deadly outbreak of Staphylococcus infection. "Staph infections were almost a thing of the past," Greene recalls. "After the development of penicillin, most infections could be wiped out with an injection. But then the bacteria began to be resistant to penicillin - before, 100 units would stop an infection, then it took a thousand, then a million wasn't enough. Infectious diseases of all kinds were taking a toll - babies, surgical patients were dying. And I was the only bacteriologist within a hundred miles."
Greene was called in to advise. "I wasn't a physician, but they asked for help so I advocated a return to the old protocols of Semmelweis and Nightingale: wash your hands, wear gowns, isolate patients. It worked, so we published a paper on how we'd handled the crisis."
While initially the Staph outbreak occurred in Louisiana, it quickly spread across the US. "Hard to say it, but the Public Health Service wasn't interested until the disease began to spread to 'real' people in the north, not Cajun blacks in the south. Then they panicked and began throwing money at it, hoping for a solution. At the time, I was a 28-year-old kid, but I had experience no one else had. When the University of Minnesota got a million dollars for research, I got a job offer to come back as a professor. We accepted and moved back to Minneapolis."
NASA was next.
In 1961, Congress practically gave the National Aeronautic and Space Administration a blank check to implement President John F. Kennedy's pledge to put a man on the moon before the end of the decade. "Maybe 10 people in the US knew anything about space," Greene says. "All our rocket scientists were German emigrants, after the war. They started with basic questions - what is the moon made of? Is there life? The concern was that 'life' in space might be dangerous microbes we'd bring back to earth, so NASA came to me with a proposal. Would I head up a project to see if there were microbes in the stratosphere? I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I could find microbes on earth, so maybe I could find them in space. NASA set up a lab in Minneapolis and from there we began launching balloons, sampling air from miles up. Other projects followed - Mars, then the Apollo and Viking missions."
Outer space may have been Green's profession, but his own inner space was evolving, too. "Gail insisted on a solid Jewish education for our kids, so we found a very small Torah day school in Minneapolis. It was a great school, so it wasn't long before the kids knew more about Judaism than we did. They were pulling us along. That's when we met Rabbi Moshe Feller, the Chabad shaliah [consular emissary] for Minneapolis. Everything else began with him."
Greene and Rabbi Feller became fast friends. "Rabbi Feller challenged me personally and I was curious. I wanted to explore all aspects of Judaism," says Greene.
His first sight of the Rebbe was at a 'Farbrengen,' a lively hassidic event where the Rebbe would speak. "I was in New York on business and Rabbi Feller called to say a Farbrengen would be held at Chabad headquarters. He said I should go, so I did. The Rebbe spoke in Yiddish, so I understood the words, but I didn't have enough Jewish knowledge to comprehend most of it. The whole event amazed me: There was the Rebbe - educated in math and science himself - who spoke of the 'soul' as something real, not just an idea. And listening to his every word were a thousand Chassidim, working guys, just like me. But for them, everything the Rebbe said had critical importance for their lives today."
As the Rebbe spoke, Greene recalled a Bialik poem he'd memorized as a child. "In one of his poems, Bialik wrote about standing on the threshold of existence, looking into the depth of the Jewish soul. That's what I did at that Farbrengen. It was my epiphany."
Nothing changed quickly. "I was still Velvl, working at NASA. Gail was still singing opera. We were still shrimp eaters, because in Louisiana we'd learned to love shrimp and crawfish. That was the tension in our lives: We wanted both the Rebbe's teaching and the shrimp."
A NASA conference was scheduled for Warsaw, Poland. Velvl met with the Russians. Gail set out as a tourist. "Gail wanted to see the old ghetto but found nothing but rubble, beams and concrete. There was no map, but she had a copy of 'Mila 18' that had a street diagram in front. So using the book, she could see where among the piles of debris the main streets had run and where the Umschlagplatz had been. When she came back to the hotel, she sobbed uncontrollably. 'I don't care what you say, Velvl,' she said. 'When we get home, I'm going to have a kosher kitchen!'"
Greene was not enthusiastic. "No one had kept kosher in my family, but she insisted. 'If we don't have a kosher kitchen, our kids won't grow up to be Jewish, and we're the last ones left. This was the center of Jewish life before, and now it's graves and ashes. Our kids will grow up in a kosher kitchen.'"
"So we flew back, exhausted and jet lagged, but before we even unpacked, Gail phoned Rabbi Feller. We got a kosher kitchen - but I still ate lunch at the campus club. It was a slow process."
Greene's first personal audience with the Rebbe took place in 1963. "My appointment was for 10:00 p.m. I wasn't nervous, more awed. The Rebbe was so warm and welcoming he seemed more like a loving uncle than the spiritual leader of the Jewish world. He asked if I was familiar with the Chassidic principle of hHashgocha protis - Divine Providence: Everything that a person sees or hears is designed by G-d to bring us closer to Him. I didn't quite believe that, but the Rebbe said that for me, it was especially important. 'You work in the space program,' he said. 'You're a professor in a medical school. You travel, see and hear things most people don't experience. Why don't you keep a journal, just a few notes at the end of the day, and see if you can find the Divine message. If you need help, bring it to me.'"
With that began the decades-long friendship between the Rebbe and the rocket scientist, one that lasted until the Rebbe's passing in 1994. In time, Greene became an emissary for the Rebbe, traveling to Russia, ferrying in dangerous contraband in the form of religious books and objects. The Greenes sought the Rebbe's advice on every issue that arose, including aliya.
They had longed to make aliya since the 1960s. "The time was never right for us," Greene says, "Every year we'd write the Rebbe, asking, but the Rebbe's response was always the same: 'I need you here,' he'd say. 'The work you do here is important. At NASA and with your students, you show both Jews and non-Jews a scientist who wears a kippa, who observes Shabbos. In Israel, it will take years to learn the language and acclimatize yourself, and even then you'll be looked on as an American living in Israel, not taken seriously. Here, you'll be missed.'"
From 1976 on, each annual request was met with a shorter reply: "My answer is the same as before."
Then in 1986, something different happened: They received no answer at all. "It seemed like the right time for us," Greene says. "Gail's elderly father had passed away. Our three daughters were already married and living here. We had a great offer to buy our house, and I'd been offered the directorship of a new medical ethics program at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. But in 1986, the Rebbe didn't answer. We wrote again, still no answer. So we packed up and made aliya."
Two weeks after arriving in Israel, the Rebbe's letter arrived, having followed them around the world. "The Rebbe apologized for his secretariat, saying that his original response had been returned, after having been misaddressed several times. Then he said his answer was the same as before. 'If you think it over, you'll see that I am right.'"
But the Greenes were already living in Israel. "I immediately phoned New York and explained to the Rebbe's assistant what had happened. 'What should we do now?' The next day, Rabbi Groner called me back. 'The Rebbe says: If you're already in Israel, then you must stay. But you should visit America frequently. It may be that your influence in America will be even greater as a visiting professor from Israel.' Then he gave us his blessing."
In retrospect, Greene says, the Rebbe was right. "We live in Israel, we love it here, it's our home. But in my heart of hearts, I know we shouldn't have come. The Rebbe was right - my effectiveness here in Israel has been negligible. It may be true, however, that in the US and Europe my reputation is enhanced by my living in Israel. But the Rebbe was entirely right."
Today, Gail and Velvl Greene live in Beersheba and recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. "In Israel we have three daughters and 20 grandchildren. Both our sons are Chabad shlihim in the US, with more grandchildren there. We're a very close family. My most lasting memory of the Rebbe was on our 10th anniversary in 1966, when we went for his blessing. 'My bracha, blessing, for you,' the Rebbe said, 'is to remember that there's an old man in Brooklyn who thinks about you and invites you to come back on your 20th anniversary for another bracha.'"
"That was the Rebbe," Greene says. "He cared deeply for us, as he did for everyone. But for us, he was the old man in Brooklyn who thought about us."
THE JERUSALEM POST
Jan. 10, 2007
My life is a series of footnotes," says Velvl Greene, 78, now retired as professor emeritus from both the University of Minnesota and Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. "I was at the right place at the right time. Big things were happening, and I took advantage to be involved."
Greene, a biologist, earned his first national reputation under fire when a devastating outbreak of Staphylococcus took place in Louisiana, where he was teaching. He earned his second reputation as a principal scientist for NASA in the 'man on the moon' project. Today, he travels internationally to speak on the topic of science and religion, a career that began when he became a close associate and emissary for Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
Greene was born into a secular but staunchly Zionist family in Winnipeg, Canada. "I went to a Jewish day school - $3 a month, which was hard for my parents to raise," he says. "I learned Yiddish, not Hebrew - Hebrew was for davening, which we didn't do. We studied Jewish holidays, but only in modern terms - Pessah was a festival of Jewish liberation. But the overriding goal for us as kids was to move to Israel. So I studied agriculture when I enrolled at the University of Manitoba. That would be useful in Israel."
Greene earned a masters degree in dairy science and bacteriology, then joined the flow of Manitoba students to Minnesota for his doctorate. "The joke was, we were going to Minnesota to get warm," he says.
The first footnote appears in 1956. "The president of a small college in Louisiana called, saying he was looking for professors. Gail and I were newlyweds and I'd just received my PhD. There was a crisis at the college - the courts had just ordered it desegregated, and half of the faculty resigned. I was young, idealistic, Jewish and qualified, so we decided to go. We drove to Lafayette, and I began teaching bacteriology to students with little academic background, and all of whom - black and white -spoke Cajun French."
Greene also became the 'rabbi' of the small Jewish community. "I didn't know how to read Hebrew, I didn't know much about kashrut or Shabbat. I couldn't read the Torah. But I was the only one who knew the Hebrew alphabet and I had an academic gown. That was enough."
The next footnote appears in 1957, with Lafayette's deadly outbreak of Staphylococcus infection. "Staph infections were almost a thing of the past," Greene recalls. "After the development of penicillin, most infections could be wiped out with an injection. But then the bacteria began to be resistant to penicillin - before, 100 units would stop an infection, then it took a thousand, then a million wasn't enough. Infectious diseases of all kinds were taking a toll - babies, surgical patients were dying. And I was the only bacteriologist within a hundred miles."
Greene was called in to advise. "I wasn't a physician, but they asked for help so I advocated a return to the old protocols of Semmelweis and Nightingale: wash your hands, wear gowns, isolate patients. It worked, so we published a paper on how we'd handled the crisis."
While initially the Staph outbreak occurred in Louisiana, it quickly spread across the US. "Hard to say it, but the Public Health Service wasn't interested until the disease began to spread to 'real' people in the north, not Cajun blacks in the south. Then they panicked and began throwing money at it, hoping for a solution. At the time, I was a 28-year-old kid, but I had experience no one else had. When the University of Minnesota got a million dollars for research, I got a job offer to come back as a professor. We accepted and moved back to Minneapolis."
NASA was next.
In 1961, Congress practically gave the National Aeronautic and Space Administration a blank check to implement President John F. Kennedy's pledge to put a man on the moon before the end of the decade. "Maybe 10 people in the US knew anything about space," Greene says. "All our rocket scientists were German emigrants, after the war. They started with basic questions - what is the moon made of? Is there life? The concern was that 'life' in space might be dangerous microbes we'd bring back to earth, so NASA came to me with a proposal. Would I head up a project to see if there were microbes in the stratosphere? I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I could find microbes on earth, so maybe I could find them in space. NASA set up a lab in Minneapolis and from there we began launching balloons, sampling air from miles up. Other projects followed - Mars, then the Apollo and Viking missions."
Outer space may have been Green's profession, but his own inner space was evolving, too. "Gail insisted on a solid Jewish education for our kids, so we found a very small Torah day school in Minneapolis. It was a great school, so it wasn't long before the kids knew more about Judaism than we did. They were pulling us along. That's when we met Rabbi Moshe Feller, the Chabad shaliah [consular emissary] for Minneapolis. Everything else began with him."
Greene and Rabbi Feller became fast friends. "Rabbi Feller challenged me personally and I was curious. I wanted to explore all aspects of Judaism," says Greene.
His first sight of the Rebbe was at a 'Farbrengen,' a lively hassidic event where the Rebbe would speak. "I was in New York on business and Rabbi Feller called to say a Farbrengen would be held at Chabad headquarters. He said I should go, so I did. The Rebbe spoke in Yiddish, so I understood the words, but I didn't have enough Jewish knowledge to comprehend most of it. The whole event amazed me: There was the Rebbe - educated in math and science himself - who spoke of the 'soul' as something real, not just an idea. And listening to his every word were a thousand Chassidim, working guys, just like me. But for them, everything the Rebbe said had critical importance for their lives today."
As the Rebbe spoke, Greene recalled a Bialik poem he'd memorized as a child. "In one of his poems, Bialik wrote about standing on the threshold of existence, looking into the depth of the Jewish soul. That's what I did at that Farbrengen. It was my epiphany."
Nothing changed quickly. "I was still Velvl, working at NASA. Gail was still singing opera. We were still shrimp eaters, because in Louisiana we'd learned to love shrimp and crawfish. That was the tension in our lives: We wanted both the Rebbe's teaching and the shrimp."
A NASA conference was scheduled for Warsaw, Poland. Velvl met with the Russians. Gail set out as a tourist. "Gail wanted to see the old ghetto but found nothing but rubble, beams and concrete. There was no map, but she had a copy of 'Mila 18' that had a street diagram in front. So using the book, she could see where among the piles of debris the main streets had run and where the Umschlagplatz had been. When she came back to the hotel, she sobbed uncontrollably. 'I don't care what you say, Velvl,' she said. 'When we get home, I'm going to have a kosher kitchen!'"
Greene was not enthusiastic. "No one had kept kosher in my family, but she insisted. 'If we don't have a kosher kitchen, our kids won't grow up to be Jewish, and we're the last ones left. This was the center of Jewish life before, and now it's graves and ashes. Our kids will grow up in a kosher kitchen.'"
"So we flew back, exhausted and jet lagged, but before we even unpacked, Gail phoned Rabbi Feller. We got a kosher kitchen - but I still ate lunch at the campus club. It was a slow process."
Greene's first personal audience with the Rebbe took place in 1963. "My appointment was for 10:00 p.m. I wasn't nervous, more awed. The Rebbe was so warm and welcoming he seemed more like a loving uncle than the spiritual leader of the Jewish world. He asked if I was familiar with the Chassidic principle of hHashgocha protis - Divine Providence: Everything that a person sees or hears is designed by G-d to bring us closer to Him. I didn't quite believe that, but the Rebbe said that for me, it was especially important. 'You work in the space program,' he said. 'You're a professor in a medical school. You travel, see and hear things most people don't experience. Why don't you keep a journal, just a few notes at the end of the day, and see if you can find the Divine message. If you need help, bring it to me.'"
With that began the decades-long friendship between the Rebbe and the rocket scientist, one that lasted until the Rebbe's passing in 1994. In time, Greene became an emissary for the Rebbe, traveling to Russia, ferrying in dangerous contraband in the form of religious books and objects. The Greenes sought the Rebbe's advice on every issue that arose, including aliya.
They had longed to make aliya since the 1960s. "The time was never right for us," Greene says, "Every year we'd write the Rebbe, asking, but the Rebbe's response was always the same: 'I need you here,' he'd say. 'The work you do here is important. At NASA and with your students, you show both Jews and non-Jews a scientist who wears a kippa, who observes Shabbos. In Israel, it will take years to learn the language and acclimatize yourself, and even then you'll be looked on as an American living in Israel, not taken seriously. Here, you'll be missed.'"
From 1976 on, each annual request was met with a shorter reply: "My answer is the same as before."
Then in 1986, something different happened: They received no answer at all. "It seemed like the right time for us," Greene says. "Gail's elderly father had passed away. Our three daughters were already married and living here. We had a great offer to buy our house, and I'd been offered the directorship of a new medical ethics program at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. But in 1986, the Rebbe didn't answer. We wrote again, still no answer. So we packed up and made aliya."
Two weeks after arriving in Israel, the Rebbe's letter arrived, having followed them around the world. "The Rebbe apologized for his secretariat, saying that his original response had been returned, after having been misaddressed several times. Then he said his answer was the same as before. 'If you think it over, you'll see that I am right.'"
But the Greenes were already living in Israel. "I immediately phoned New York and explained to the Rebbe's assistant what had happened. 'What should we do now?' The next day, Rabbi Groner called me back. 'The Rebbe says: If you're already in Israel, then you must stay. But you should visit America frequently. It may be that your influence in America will be even greater as a visiting professor from Israel.' Then he gave us his blessing."
In retrospect, Greene says, the Rebbe was right. "We live in Israel, we love it here, it's our home. But in my heart of hearts, I know we shouldn't have come. The Rebbe was right - my effectiveness here in Israel has been negligible. It may be true, however, that in the US and Europe my reputation is enhanced by my living in Israel. But the Rebbe was entirely right."
Today, Gail and Velvl Greene live in Beersheba and recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. "In Israel we have three daughters and 20 grandchildren. Both our sons are Chabad shlihim in the US, with more grandchildren there. We're a very close family. My most lasting memory of the Rebbe was on our 10th anniversary in 1966, when we went for his blessing. 'My bracha, blessing, for you,' the Rebbe said, 'is to remember that there's an old man in Brooklyn who thinks about you and invites you to come back on your 20th anniversary for another bracha.'"
"That was the Rebbe," Greene says. "He cared deeply for us, as he did for everyone. But for us, he was the old man in Brooklyn who thought about us."
Lvov Jews: Give Back Judaica
Vladimir Matveyev
JTA Wire Service
JANUARY 16, 2007
Lvov, Ukraine
Testifying to a rich Jewish past, museums in the western Ukrainian city of Lvov hold hundreds of Jewish artifacts that once belonged to local synagogues and Jewish institutions.
Now the few practicing Jews here say they need the artifacts back to reinvigorate their community. "Our congregation is trying to bring Jewish tradition back, and we need these Torah scrolls and religious objects," said Valentina Zamichkovskaya, 67, a member of the Lvov Reform Jewish congregation.
Ukrainian authorities seem open to the possibility.
"We are ready to transfer some items to the Jewish communities upon their request," Roman Kurash, a representative of the Lvov Regional Administration in charge of religious affairs, told JTA. "Ukrainian authorities are ready to resolve the issue on the condition that these objects are used for religious community purposes," said Alexander Sagan, a senior adviser to President Viktor Yuschenko.
Lvov at one time was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and, between the world wars, was part of Poland. The city was incorporated into the Soviet Union in 1939.
When World War II began there were 1.5 million Jews in what is today Ukraine, or about 3 percent of the population. Lvov itself had more than 200,000 Jews, nearly half of them refugees from German-occupied Poland.
The Germans subsequently occupied Lvov after the invasion of the Soviet Union in June 1941. More than 6,000 Jews died in pogroms carried out by local residents in the summer of 1941-- even before the Nazis set up a Jewish ghetto in Lvov in November 1941.
In March 1942, the Germans began deporting Jews from the ghetto to the Belzec extermination camp. By August 1942, more than 65,000 Jews had been deported and murdered. Thousands more were sent for forced labor to the nearby Janowska camp.
In early June 1943 the Germans destroyed the ghetto, killing thousands of Jews in the process. Remaining ghetto residents were sent to Janowska or deported to Belzec. Only a few hundred Jews survived the Holocaust in Lvov.
Artifacts such as Torah scrolls and ritual objects were confiscated from the Jewish community during the communist era. Lvov's Museum of the History of Religion and the Museum of Ethnography and Crafts each contain about 1,000 Jewish artifacts.
"We have a good collection of Jewish manuscripts and over 420 Torah scrolls and fragments," said Maxim Martyn, curator of the Museum of History of Religion's Judaica collection. Its holdings date from as far back as the 15th century; more recent objects are from the prewar Jewish community.
Lyudmila Bulgakova, chief curator at the Museum of Ethnography and Crafts, said her institution has an extensive collection of valuable ancient Judaica items, from Torah scrolls and velvet scroll covers to silver pointers and antique Jewish headwear.
Some of the artifacts are included in the museums' permanent exhibitions, while some were shown at exhibitions in Israel and Poland. But many more remain unseen by the public.
Martyn said most of the Torah scrolls were transferred to the religion museum in the 1970s from a Lvov academic library after Soviet authorities shut down one of the city's major synagogues in 1962. Not all of the museum's Judaica objects arrived there after being confiscated, he said: Some were donated by individuals who could not or were afraid to keep them.
For years the objects were used mainly in exhibitions, but with state-sponsored atheism and religious persecution mostly in the past, the revived Jewish community in Lvov wants the religious objects.
Lvov now is home to some 2,000 Jews. Aside from the Reform congregation, there's a large Orthodox shul run by Rabbi Mordechai Shloime Bold, a Karlin-Stonliner Chasid. The synagogue was confiscated by the Bolsheviks but was returned to the community in 1989, shortly before the fall of communism. Another Orthodox minyan, or prayer group, is run by a longtime Jewish community and human-rights activist, Meilach Sheichet.
Members of these groups acknowledge that many of the scrolls and Judaica objects may never be returned to proper religious use, given the small size of the community. But they insist the city should help the community transfer Judaica from municipal museums to a new Jewish museum that Jewish organizations want to open.
One of Ukraine's chief rabbis was more categorical.
"Museums must return all Torah scrolls to the communities," Rabbi Azriel Chaikin, a chief rabbi of Ukraine and the main Chabad-Lubavitch authority in the country, told JTA. "Religious silver and some other objects we can discuss separately, but Torahs must be returned."
Even before any real negotiations have begun, at least one religious group in Lvov is using a scroll that belongs to a local museum. Sheichet said his Orthodox minyan borrowed a scroll from the Museum of History of Religion on a long-term loan.
Sheichet said many of the objects in the museum's Judaica collection should be moved to a future Lvov Jewish museum, but another Ukrainian chief rabbi disagreed.
"Jewish religious objects were taken from synagogues during Soviet times," Rabbi Yakov Dov Bleich, chief rabbi of Kiev and Ukraine, told JTA. "In independent Ukraine they should be returned to community property."
Some of the Judaica artifacts were damaged or desecrated. Others are so ancient and valuable that synagogues and communal institutions may not want to keep them because of poor security.
One activist in Lvov said it would be wiser to split the Judaica holdings in local museums.
"Some of the objects can help the revival of Jewish communities," journalist Boris Dorfman said, "while others will be better preserved in a future Jewish museum where they can tell incredible stories about the great Jewish past in our region."
This story reprinted courtesy of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
To read more, pick up a copy of the Jewish Times at one of our newsstand locations.
To purchase a subscription or send a gift subscription, fill out our on-line form.
JTA Wire Service
JANUARY 16, 2007
Lvov, Ukraine
Testifying to a rich Jewish past, museums in the western Ukrainian city of Lvov hold hundreds of Jewish artifacts that once belonged to local synagogues and Jewish institutions.
Now the few practicing Jews here say they need the artifacts back to reinvigorate their community. "Our congregation is trying to bring Jewish tradition back, and we need these Torah scrolls and religious objects," said Valentina Zamichkovskaya, 67, a member of the Lvov Reform Jewish congregation.
Ukrainian authorities seem open to the possibility.
"We are ready to transfer some items to the Jewish communities upon their request," Roman Kurash, a representative of the Lvov Regional Administration in charge of religious affairs, told JTA. "Ukrainian authorities are ready to resolve the issue on the condition that these objects are used for religious community purposes," said Alexander Sagan, a senior adviser to President Viktor Yuschenko.
Lvov at one time was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and, between the world wars, was part of Poland. The city was incorporated into the Soviet Union in 1939.
When World War II began there were 1.5 million Jews in what is today Ukraine, or about 3 percent of the population. Lvov itself had more than 200,000 Jews, nearly half of them refugees from German-occupied Poland.
The Germans subsequently occupied Lvov after the invasion of the Soviet Union in June 1941. More than 6,000 Jews died in pogroms carried out by local residents in the summer of 1941-- even before the Nazis set up a Jewish ghetto in Lvov in November 1941.
In March 1942, the Germans began deporting Jews from the ghetto to the Belzec extermination camp. By August 1942, more than 65,000 Jews had been deported and murdered. Thousands more were sent for forced labor to the nearby Janowska camp.
In early June 1943 the Germans destroyed the ghetto, killing thousands of Jews in the process. Remaining ghetto residents were sent to Janowska or deported to Belzec. Only a few hundred Jews survived the Holocaust in Lvov.
Artifacts such as Torah scrolls and ritual objects were confiscated from the Jewish community during the communist era. Lvov's Museum of the History of Religion and the Museum of Ethnography and Crafts each contain about 1,000 Jewish artifacts.
"We have a good collection of Jewish manuscripts and over 420 Torah scrolls and fragments," said Maxim Martyn, curator of the Museum of History of Religion's Judaica collection. Its holdings date from as far back as the 15th century; more recent objects are from the prewar Jewish community.
Lyudmila Bulgakova, chief curator at the Museum of Ethnography and Crafts, said her institution has an extensive collection of valuable ancient Judaica items, from Torah scrolls and velvet scroll covers to silver pointers and antique Jewish headwear.
Some of the artifacts are included in the museums' permanent exhibitions, while some were shown at exhibitions in Israel and Poland. But many more remain unseen by the public.
Martyn said most of the Torah scrolls were transferred to the religion museum in the 1970s from a Lvov academic library after Soviet authorities shut down one of the city's major synagogues in 1962. Not all of the museum's Judaica objects arrived there after being confiscated, he said: Some were donated by individuals who could not or were afraid to keep them.
For years the objects were used mainly in exhibitions, but with state-sponsored atheism and religious persecution mostly in the past, the revived Jewish community in Lvov wants the religious objects.
Lvov now is home to some 2,000 Jews. Aside from the Reform congregation, there's a large Orthodox shul run by Rabbi Mordechai Shloime Bold, a Karlin-Stonliner Chasid. The synagogue was confiscated by the Bolsheviks but was returned to the community in 1989, shortly before the fall of communism. Another Orthodox minyan, or prayer group, is run by a longtime Jewish community and human-rights activist, Meilach Sheichet.
Members of these groups acknowledge that many of the scrolls and Judaica objects may never be returned to proper religious use, given the small size of the community. But they insist the city should help the community transfer Judaica from municipal museums to a new Jewish museum that Jewish organizations want to open.
One of Ukraine's chief rabbis was more categorical.
"Museums must return all Torah scrolls to the communities," Rabbi Azriel Chaikin, a chief rabbi of Ukraine and the main Chabad-Lubavitch authority in the country, told JTA. "Religious silver and some other objects we can discuss separately, but Torahs must be returned."
Even before any real negotiations have begun, at least one religious group in Lvov is using a scroll that belongs to a local museum. Sheichet said his Orthodox minyan borrowed a scroll from the Museum of History of Religion on a long-term loan.
Sheichet said many of the objects in the museum's Judaica collection should be moved to a future Lvov Jewish museum, but another Ukrainian chief rabbi disagreed.
"Jewish religious objects were taken from synagogues during Soviet times," Rabbi Yakov Dov Bleich, chief rabbi of Kiev and Ukraine, told JTA. "In independent Ukraine they should be returned to community property."
Some of the Judaica artifacts were damaged or desecrated. Others are so ancient and valuable that synagogues and communal institutions may not want to keep them because of poor security.
One activist in Lvov said it would be wiser to split the Judaica holdings in local museums.
"Some of the objects can help the revival of Jewish communities," journalist Boris Dorfman said, "while others will be better preserved in a future Jewish museum where they can tell incredible stories about the great Jewish past in our region."
This story reprinted courtesy of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
To read more, pick up a copy of the Jewish Times at one of our newsstand locations.
To purchase a subscription or send a gift subscription, fill out our on-line form.
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.
Scandals and disputes plague ultra-Orthodox circles in the U.S.
Lubavitch Hasidism (Chabad), on the other hand, in contrast to its great influence during the lifetime of the last Lubavitcher Rebbe, has become mainly an organizational framework that is represented by the thousands of shluhim (emissaries) who operate under its auspices all over the world.
Comments?
Comments?
Friday, January 12, 2007
Orthodox religious demographics that are more technologically advanced than I am, as demonstrated by their possession, and my lack, of cell phones
1. Amish teenagers
2. Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidic rabbis.
My meeting with the Lubavitcher rabbi this afternoon went wonderfully. Longer update forthcoming!
2. Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidic rabbis.
My meeting with the Lubavitcher rabbi this afternoon went wonderfully. Longer update forthcoming!
106-year-old survivor of czarist pogroms, Nazis dies in New York
By AP
"Bubbe" Maryasha Garelik, who lived through the entire 20th century, surviving the pogroms of czarist Russia, Soviet anti-Semitism and Nazi terror and then dispensing her wisdom to thousands of Lubavitch Jews, has died. She was 106.
She died Wednesday night in Brooklyn's Crown Heights neighborhood and was buried Thursday at the Old Montefiore Cemetery near the grave of the ultra Orthodox sect's revered "rebbe," Rabbi Menachem Schneerson.
"She was small in size - less than 5 feet tall - but a giant in stature,"
Ra
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Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky said.For decades, the bubbe (grandmother in Yiddish) dispensed wisdom to thousands in her Brooklyn neighborhood who came seeking her guidance. Her advice came from decades of trial by fire.
According to a Lubavitch biography of Bubbe Maryasha, her father was killed in a pogrom, or organized massacre, in Czarist Russia when she was 5, and her grandparents, with whom she and her mother lived, were subsequently executed.
Years later, under Soviet rule, Garelik, her husband and their small children were evicted from their apartment into the deep snow because he refused to do factory work on the Jewish Sabbath. As a Jewish underground
operative, he was arrested in the 1930s during Stalin's rule, then shot. (His wife did not know exactly what happened to him until 1998, when his fate was revealed in an unsealed Soviet secret police file).
"She was a lone person who stood up to a regime that shot her husband in cold blood in a field," Kotlarsky said. "She was left with six children, ages 1 to 14, and she persevered and raised them by herself, with ethical and moral integrity."
When authorities warned her against lighting the Sabbath candles, Garelik fled with her children. The family moved six times in three years due to harassment from Soviet authorities; one home was a stable.
But she was resourceful, growing potatoes in back of a synagogue to feed her family - with enough left over to pay for the dilapidated synagogue to be fixed.
When an acquaintance tried to persuade her to send her children to the Communist public school, she said emphatically: "Stalin will be torn down
before my children are indoctrinated that way," as quoted by her granddaughter Henya Laine, who is now herself a grandmother in Brooklyn.
By 1941, when the Germans advanced onto Soviet soil, Garelik and her brood escaped to Uzbekistan, where she made and sold socks to survive. In 1946, they ended up in a detention camp in Germany.
After the war, she moved to Paris, where she established a Lubavitch Jewish girls' school that still exists. She immigrated to the United States in 1953, helping to start a Brooklyn organization whose members visited the sick, and a boys' school for which she collected money into old age.
God gave her "two healthy feet," she would say. "I can walk, I can take care of myself and help others."
The Lubavitch Hasidic movement follows the teachings of Eastern European rabbis, emphasizing the study of Hebrew scriptures while spreading its faithful worldwide. Some of Garelik's more than 500 descendants are Lubavitch emissaries in Australia, China, England, France, Panama, Poland and South Africa.
"Bubbe" Maryasha Garelik, who lived through the entire 20th century, surviving the pogroms of czarist Russia, Soviet anti-Semitism and Nazi terror and then dispensing her wisdom to thousands of Lubavitch Jews, has died. She was 106.
She died Wednesday night in Brooklyn's Crown Heights neighborhood and was buried Thursday at the Old Montefiore Cemetery near the grave of the ultra Orthodox sect's revered "rebbe," Rabbi Menachem Schneerson.
"She was small in size - less than 5 feet tall - but a giant in stature,"
Ra
Advertisement
Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky said.For decades, the bubbe (grandmother in Yiddish) dispensed wisdom to thousands in her Brooklyn neighborhood who came seeking her guidance. Her advice came from decades of trial by fire.
According to a Lubavitch biography of Bubbe Maryasha, her father was killed in a pogrom, or organized massacre, in Czarist Russia when she was 5, and her grandparents, with whom she and her mother lived, were subsequently executed.
Years later, under Soviet rule, Garelik, her husband and their small children were evicted from their apartment into the deep snow because he refused to do factory work on the Jewish Sabbath. As a Jewish underground
operative, he was arrested in the 1930s during Stalin's rule, then shot. (His wife did not know exactly what happened to him until 1998, when his fate was revealed in an unsealed Soviet secret police file).
"She was a lone person who stood up to a regime that shot her husband in cold blood in a field," Kotlarsky said. "She was left with six children, ages 1 to 14, and she persevered and raised them by herself, with ethical and moral integrity."
When authorities warned her against lighting the Sabbath candles, Garelik fled with her children. The family moved six times in three years due to harassment from Soviet authorities; one home was a stable.
But she was resourceful, growing potatoes in back of a synagogue to feed her family - with enough left over to pay for the dilapidated synagogue to be fixed.
When an acquaintance tried to persuade her to send her children to the Communist public school, she said emphatically: "Stalin will be torn down
before my children are indoctrinated that way," as quoted by her granddaughter Henya Laine, who is now herself a grandmother in Brooklyn.
By 1941, when the Germans advanced onto Soviet soil, Garelik and her brood escaped to Uzbekistan, where she made and sold socks to survive. In 1946, they ended up in a detention camp in Germany.
After the war, she moved to Paris, where she established a Lubavitch Jewish girls' school that still exists. She immigrated to the United States in 1953, helping to start a Brooklyn organization whose members visited the sick, and a boys' school for which she collected money into old age.
God gave her "two healthy feet," she would say. "I can walk, I can take care of myself and help others."
The Lubavitch Hasidic movement follows the teachings of Eastern European rabbis, emphasizing the study of Hebrew scriptures while spreading its faithful worldwide. Some of Garelik's more than 500 descendants are Lubavitch emissaries in Australia, China, England, France, Panama, Poland and South Africa.
Lubavitch bubbe
SURVIVED SOVIETS, NAZIS; LIVED TO 106
Established girls’ school in Paris
Established girls’ school in Paris
NEW YORK – They called her Bubbe Maryasha – a 106-year-old Jewish grandmother who survived the pogroms of czarist Russia, Soviet anti-Semitism and Nazi terror.
Members of the Lubavitch Jewish community yesterday announced the death of Maryasha Garelik, the grandmother – “bubbe” in Yiddish – who survived milestone moments of the 20th century, including the Soviet execution of her husband for helping to keep Judaism alive.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Ban the Web? Not Lubavitch Jews
Jan, 19, 2000
BROOKLYN, New York -- Despite a recent Internet ban by a group of prominent Israeli rabbis, Brooklyn's Lubavitch Hasidim have no plans to scale back their extensive presence on the World Wide Web, a presence that now includes 700 Web sites in 52 countries.
But the Lubavitch, the largest Jewish outreach group in the world, are concerned about a conflict with the ultra-orthodox rabbis and deny any contradiction between their decade-old Internet presence and the ban.
"We're very sympathetic to [the rabbis'] concerns," says Rabbi Zalman Shmotkin, a Lubavitch spokesperson.
These concerns revolve around the Internet acting as a conduit for pornography, particularly to Jewish children. But, unlike the ultra-orthodox, the Lubavitch emphasize the use of physical objects as tools to spread their word.
"It's not the medium itself that is kosher or not kosher," Shmotkin explains. "It's how it is utilized."
On a recent afternoon in Brooklyn's Crown Heights, Jewish men dressed in black and sporting the trademark fedoras and long beards of the Lubavitcher Hasidim rush in and out of the main synagogue at 770 Eastern Parkway.
Inside, dozens of men sway and chant prayers while off to one side dozens of young boys enthusiastically sing religious songs. Two exhausted Yeshiva students sleep with their heads resting on open books of Talmudic law.
In a small room upstairs, the Lubavitch Internet team sits around a table, oblivious to the din below. These men and women are at the vanguard of harnessing the technology to promote evangelical Judaism. This effort has resulted in a worldwide network of virtual Jewish centers at chabadonline.com.
"We're trying to create a marriage of new technology and 3,000-year-old ideas," says Rabbi Yehudah Krinsky, a Lubavitch leader.
To this end, a dozen part-time designers, writers, and editors work six days a week to create pages on topics ranging from proper kosher dietary restrictions to the popular "Ask the Rabbi" feature.
Team members create stand-alone Web sites that offer translations of Passover and Hanukkah texts in a dozen languages. They scan and post books of Talmudic law for reference and online Torah studies.
The Lubavitch team includes an editor in Israel and a programmer in the Ukraine, but the content decisions are made at Lubavitch World Headquarters in Brooklyn. Once Web content is created by the team, they upload the material onto servers housed in New Jersey, and mail a list of available pages to Lubavitch communities on every continent.
"We give the rabbi in each community his own domain name," explains Shimon Laber, a Web programmer and key member of the team.
A user-friendly template is also provided, enabling rabbis or community Web masters to decide which pages to post on a site.
The Lubavitch see two kinds of benefits from their increasing Internet sophistication: First, in a religion where the rabbi stands at the center of community life, Web site visitors can feel as if they are visiting their spiritual leader. Second, as programmer Moshe Berghoff points out, "If the rabbis had to learn HTML, this would never happen."
Aside from the yarmulkes and beards, the meeting is no different from any other. HTML codes, budgets, and software glitches are discussed; Motorola Star Tacs litter the table. Team members discuss efforts to get pages up for a New Hampshire congregation before the primaries, and a new Hollywood page up before the Oscars.
But a more unique challenge comes from another community: "It's dark in Alaska 23 hours a day right now," says Chani Benjaminson. In a religion where many laws are structured around sunrise and sunset, the team must come up with an Internet solution to reconcile Jewish law with the geographic obstacles of the Anchorage congregation.
One of the most popular Lubavitch sites is 800mitzvah.com. Mitzvahs, or small acts of everyday kindness, are central to the Lubavitch philosophy. Under a headline reading "Practical Acts of Kindness," visitors can choose from "general kindness," "kindness towards children," "kindness towards spouse," and "ideas for everyday kindness." Visitors choosing "everyday kindness," are encouraged to "talk to strangers," "smile," and "resist road rage."
The Lubavitch community settled in Brooklyn in 1941 and grew quickly in the years after World War II, the result of an influx of concentration camp survivors, a high birth rate, and aggressive outreach efforts. Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, the Lubavitch leader who died in 1994, developed a huge international following as well. Even today there is fierce debate among his followers as to whether he is indeed the Messiah.
That question aside, the Rabbi embraced technology early on. Rabbi Schneerson's position was that God created everything for a reason, and the material things God created should be used to spread His word. Accordingly, the Lubavitch seized on cable TV and live phone hookups to deliver the Rabbi's five-hour talks to a rapt audience in nearly 50 countries. Today those efforts have been supplanted by chabadonline.com.
But not all of Brooklyn's Hasidic communities have embraced the Web. Just a few miles away from Lubavitch headquarters is Lee Avenue, the busy strip frequented by Williamsburg's Satmar Hasids. Businesses here still use manual cash registers; a peeling sign over one store reads "Dry Goods." Williamsburg's 50,000 Satmar Hasidim are prohibited from using the Internet.
As early as 1950, Rabbi Moses Teitelbaum, the Satmar leader who shaped the community after World War II, decreed technology a threat to the Satmar way of life.
Satmar journalist Albert Friedman says, "In the 1960s we were lucky. With the hippie generation, and LSD, it didn't touch us. Now the 1990s, I am afraid -- the walls can be broken down much easier because of the Internet. The temptations are much worse than in previous years."
In a community where boys and girls are strictly segregated and marriages are arranged, Satmar elders have gone to great lengths to prevent teens from exposure to chat rooms or sites where they might be bombarded with invitations to X-rated Web pages.
But the technology ban has come at a cost for the Satmar, leaving the impoverished community out of New York State's boom in tech jobs. Males study Talmudic law as much as 14 hours a day, but don't graduate high school; the community is focused on turning out rabbinical scholars.
Rabbi Glanz of the United Talmudic Academy explains, "we are turning out very well-educated men according to our priorities. Whether the education they receive is useful in today's economy, I can't say."
The Lubavitch are also concerned about sites they deem objectionable, but they view the Internet as an ideal tool for Judaism. And as Shimon Laber explains, "The Torah jumps around. It is the original hyper-linked text. Nothing can bring it out like the Web."
BROOKLYN, New York -- Despite a recent Internet ban by a group of prominent Israeli rabbis, Brooklyn's Lubavitch Hasidim have no plans to scale back their extensive presence on the World Wide Web, a presence that now includes 700 Web sites in 52 countries.
But the Lubavitch, the largest Jewish outreach group in the world, are concerned about a conflict with the ultra-orthodox rabbis and deny any contradiction between their decade-old Internet presence and the ban.
"We're very sympathetic to [the rabbis'] concerns," says Rabbi Zalman Shmotkin, a Lubavitch spokesperson.
These concerns revolve around the Internet acting as a conduit for pornography, particularly to Jewish children. But, unlike the ultra-orthodox, the Lubavitch emphasize the use of physical objects as tools to spread their word.
"It's not the medium itself that is kosher or not kosher," Shmotkin explains. "It's how it is utilized."
On a recent afternoon in Brooklyn's Crown Heights, Jewish men dressed in black and sporting the trademark fedoras and long beards of the Lubavitcher Hasidim rush in and out of the main synagogue at 770 Eastern Parkway.
Inside, dozens of men sway and chant prayers while off to one side dozens of young boys enthusiastically sing religious songs. Two exhausted Yeshiva students sleep with their heads resting on open books of Talmudic law.
In a small room upstairs, the Lubavitch Internet team sits around a table, oblivious to the din below. These men and women are at the vanguard of harnessing the technology to promote evangelical Judaism. This effort has resulted in a worldwide network of virtual Jewish centers at chabadonline.com.
"We're trying to create a marriage of new technology and 3,000-year-old ideas," says Rabbi Yehudah Krinsky, a Lubavitch leader.
To this end, a dozen part-time designers, writers, and editors work six days a week to create pages on topics ranging from proper kosher dietary restrictions to the popular "Ask the Rabbi" feature.
Team members create stand-alone Web sites that offer translations of Passover and Hanukkah texts in a dozen languages. They scan and post books of Talmudic law for reference and online Torah studies.
The Lubavitch team includes an editor in Israel and a programmer in the Ukraine, but the content decisions are made at Lubavitch World Headquarters in Brooklyn. Once Web content is created by the team, they upload the material onto servers housed in New Jersey, and mail a list of available pages to Lubavitch communities on every continent.
"We give the rabbi in each community his own domain name," explains Shimon Laber, a Web programmer and key member of the team.
A user-friendly template is also provided, enabling rabbis or community Web masters to decide which pages to post on a site.
The Lubavitch see two kinds of benefits from their increasing Internet sophistication: First, in a religion where the rabbi stands at the center of community life, Web site visitors can feel as if they are visiting their spiritual leader. Second, as programmer Moshe Berghoff points out, "If the rabbis had to learn HTML, this would never happen."
Aside from the yarmulkes and beards, the meeting is no different from any other. HTML codes, budgets, and software glitches are discussed; Motorola Star Tacs litter the table. Team members discuss efforts to get pages up for a New Hampshire congregation before the primaries, and a new Hollywood page up before the Oscars.
But a more unique challenge comes from another community: "It's dark in Alaska 23 hours a day right now," says Chani Benjaminson. In a religion where many laws are structured around sunrise and sunset, the team must come up with an Internet solution to reconcile Jewish law with the geographic obstacles of the Anchorage congregation.
One of the most popular Lubavitch sites is 800mitzvah.com. Mitzvahs, or small acts of everyday kindness, are central to the Lubavitch philosophy. Under a headline reading "Practical Acts of Kindness," visitors can choose from "general kindness," "kindness towards children," "kindness towards spouse," and "ideas for everyday kindness." Visitors choosing "everyday kindness," are encouraged to "talk to strangers," "smile," and "resist road rage."
The Lubavitch community settled in Brooklyn in 1941 and grew quickly in the years after World War II, the result of an influx of concentration camp survivors, a high birth rate, and aggressive outreach efforts. Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, the Lubavitch leader who died in 1994, developed a huge international following as well. Even today there is fierce debate among his followers as to whether he is indeed the Messiah.
That question aside, the Rabbi embraced technology early on. Rabbi Schneerson's position was that God created everything for a reason, and the material things God created should be used to spread His word. Accordingly, the Lubavitch seized on cable TV and live phone hookups to deliver the Rabbi's five-hour talks to a rapt audience in nearly 50 countries. Today those efforts have been supplanted by chabadonline.com.
But not all of Brooklyn's Hasidic communities have embraced the Web. Just a few miles away from Lubavitch headquarters is Lee Avenue, the busy strip frequented by Williamsburg's Satmar Hasids. Businesses here still use manual cash registers; a peeling sign over one store reads "Dry Goods." Williamsburg's 50,000 Satmar Hasidim are prohibited from using the Internet.
As early as 1950, Rabbi Moses Teitelbaum, the Satmar leader who shaped the community after World War II, decreed technology a threat to the Satmar way of life.
Satmar journalist Albert Friedman says, "In the 1960s we were lucky. With the hippie generation, and LSD, it didn't touch us. Now the 1990s, I am afraid -- the walls can be broken down much easier because of the Internet. The temptations are much worse than in previous years."
In a community where boys and girls are strictly segregated and marriages are arranged, Satmar elders have gone to great lengths to prevent teens from exposure to chat rooms or sites where they might be bombarded with invitations to X-rated Web pages.
But the technology ban has come at a cost for the Satmar, leaving the impoverished community out of New York State's boom in tech jobs. Males study Talmudic law as much as 14 hours a day, but don't graduate high school; the community is focused on turning out rabbinical scholars.
Rabbi Glanz of the United Talmudic Academy explains, "we are turning out very well-educated men according to our priorities. Whether the education they receive is useful in today's economy, I can't say."
The Lubavitch are also concerned about sites they deem objectionable, but they view the Internet as an ideal tool for Judaism. And as Shimon Laber explains, "The Torah jumps around. It is the original hyper-linked text. Nothing can bring it out like the Web."
Sunday, January 07, 2007
A 'Community Torah' is a celebration of freedom
A FEW HUNDRED RUSSIAN JEWS WHO WERE DENIED RELIGIOUS FREEDOM FOR DECADES WITNESSED THE COMPLETION OF A NEWLY WRITTEN TORAH FOR THE CHABAD-RUSSIAN CENTER OF SUNNY ISLES BEACH ON THURSDAY. IT WAS THE FIRST TIME THAT A MAJORITY OF THE MEMBERS HAD EVER WITNESSED A TORAH COMPLETION AND DEDICATION CEREMONY
BY SANDRA REMILIEN
Special to The Miami Herald
When Igor Medge left Moscow in 1991, he never imagined that he would sponsor the writing of one of the 54 sections of a Torah.
Medge was used to religious oppression in Russia due to his Jewish heritage.
''It was difficult to attend Jewish services because we were afraid some anti-Semitic person would go after us,'' Medge said. ``In Moscow, I remember some years when there was a religious holiday, the government put cars in the street to disturb Jewish people to go to synagogue.''
As a result of these hindrances, some Jews have no idea about Jewish religion and life. Medge and the majority of the Jews who attended a Torah completion and dedication ceremony recently for the Chabad-Russian Center of Sunny Isles Beach had never witnessed such an event.
''This is kind of an unusual event because it's the first time in my life since I participated in such an event,'' Medge said.
While there is a stark contrast in the religious climate of South Florida and that of Communist Russia, Medge envisioned his life in South Florida as one that simply offered the freedom to worship.
But South Florida had more to offer the 54-year-old Medge. Sixteen years after leaving Moscow, Medge has discovered a Jewish tradition. He is one of the approximately 50 families from the synagogue who contributed more than $50,000 to pay expenses for the Torah. David Joukov contributed the Torah's crown.
''I signed myself a letter in the Torah,'' said Medge, who was also one of the first members of the Chabad-Russian Center of Sunny Isles Beach. The synagogue is the only one of the 127 Chabad centers in Florida that specifically targets and works with Russian Jews.
Alan Frank, a member of the Torah Dedication Committee, said writing in the Torah is a one of the 613 mitzvahs, or obligations, that a Jew should fulfill.
''We're commanded as Jewish people to write at least one letter of Torah in our lifetime and we're honoring the commandment of God by doing this,'' Frank said.
The process to get the new Torah took less than two years. It included the preparation of the parchment, which entails the stretching, drying and shaving of cow hide in order to get it ready to receive the ink. The actual writing of the Torah took almost a year, almost all of its 304,805 letters written in Israel. The last six lines were completed by community members and sponsors with assistance from Rabbi Yochanon Klein, a scribe.
The Chabad-Russian Center of Sunny Isles Beach already possessed two Torahs. The Torah is a sacred document in Judaism comprising the first five books of the Bible. One of the community members is sponsoring another Torah, which will take another year to be completed.
Vladimir Turovskiy, a 38-year-old Hallandale resident and Russian immigrant who worships at the Chabad-Russian Center, said the new Torah is special because unlike the other two Torahs in the synagogue, it was funded by the contributions of the members of the synagogue.
''It's a proud moment because it's brand new, created especially for the synagogue,'' Turovskiy said. ``This was actually sponsored by all the members so it's a collective effort.''
The completion and dedication ceremony for the Torah was like an elaborate wedding ceremony.
After the last few letters of the Torah were written and the ink had dried, the Torah was raised and the assembled group broke out in song. A burgundy mantle and a silver crown were placed on the newly written Torah and it was ready to marry the other two Torahs in the synagogue.
''The Torah is welcomed like a bride,'' Rabbi Alexander Kaller said. ``When the Torah was given, it was like an engagement ceremony between God and the Jewish people. Every time we write a new Torah, we reaffirm to God commitment to his laws.''
The new Torah was escorted like a bride under a wedding canopy to her awaiting groom, the existing two Torah scrolls in the synagogue.
Some verses from the Siddur, a prayer book, were recited in order to bless the Torah.
Following the recital, the Hakafoth, a ceremony during which the Torah was carried around the synagogue seven times with traditional hymns and song, took place. The ceremony continued until 10 magnums of vodka were consumed.
Kaller said the completion of the Torah creates a sense of unity in the Jewish community in Sunny Isles Beach.
''This is a community Torah,'' said Kaller said. ``We're united as a community.''
© 2007 MiamiHerald.com and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.miami.com
BY SANDRA REMILIEN
Special to The Miami Herald
When Igor Medge left Moscow in 1991, he never imagined that he would sponsor the writing of one of the 54 sections of a Torah.
Medge was used to religious oppression in Russia due to his Jewish heritage.
''It was difficult to attend Jewish services because we were afraid some anti-Semitic person would go after us,'' Medge said. ``In Moscow, I remember some years when there was a religious holiday, the government put cars in the street to disturb Jewish people to go to synagogue.''
As a result of these hindrances, some Jews have no idea about Jewish religion and life. Medge and the majority of the Jews who attended a Torah completion and dedication ceremony recently for the Chabad-Russian Center of Sunny Isles Beach had never witnessed such an event.
''This is kind of an unusual event because it's the first time in my life since I participated in such an event,'' Medge said.
While there is a stark contrast in the religious climate of South Florida and that of Communist Russia, Medge envisioned his life in South Florida as one that simply offered the freedom to worship.
But South Florida had more to offer the 54-year-old Medge. Sixteen years after leaving Moscow, Medge has discovered a Jewish tradition. He is one of the approximately 50 families from the synagogue who contributed more than $50,000 to pay expenses for the Torah. David Joukov contributed the Torah's crown.
''I signed myself a letter in the Torah,'' said Medge, who was also one of the first members of the Chabad-Russian Center of Sunny Isles Beach. The synagogue is the only one of the 127 Chabad centers in Florida that specifically targets and works with Russian Jews.
Alan Frank, a member of the Torah Dedication Committee, said writing in the Torah is a one of the 613 mitzvahs, or obligations, that a Jew should fulfill.
''We're commanded as Jewish people to write at least one letter of Torah in our lifetime and we're honoring the commandment of God by doing this,'' Frank said.
The process to get the new Torah took less than two years. It included the preparation of the parchment, which entails the stretching, drying and shaving of cow hide in order to get it ready to receive the ink. The actual writing of the Torah took almost a year, almost all of its 304,805 letters written in Israel. The last six lines were completed by community members and sponsors with assistance from Rabbi Yochanon Klein, a scribe.
The Chabad-Russian Center of Sunny Isles Beach already possessed two Torahs. The Torah is a sacred document in Judaism comprising the first five books of the Bible. One of the community members is sponsoring another Torah, which will take another year to be completed.
Vladimir Turovskiy, a 38-year-old Hallandale resident and Russian immigrant who worships at the Chabad-Russian Center, said the new Torah is special because unlike the other two Torahs in the synagogue, it was funded by the contributions of the members of the synagogue.
''It's a proud moment because it's brand new, created especially for the synagogue,'' Turovskiy said. ``This was actually sponsored by all the members so it's a collective effort.''
The completion and dedication ceremony for the Torah was like an elaborate wedding ceremony.
After the last few letters of the Torah were written and the ink had dried, the Torah was raised and the assembled group broke out in song. A burgundy mantle and a silver crown were placed on the newly written Torah and it was ready to marry the other two Torahs in the synagogue.
''The Torah is welcomed like a bride,'' Rabbi Alexander Kaller said. ``When the Torah was given, it was like an engagement ceremony between God and the Jewish people. Every time we write a new Torah, we reaffirm to God commitment to his laws.''
The new Torah was escorted like a bride under a wedding canopy to her awaiting groom, the existing two Torah scrolls in the synagogue.
Some verses from the Siddur, a prayer book, were recited in order to bless the Torah.
Following the recital, the Hakafoth, a ceremony during which the Torah was carried around the synagogue seven times with traditional hymns and song, took place. The ceremony continued until 10 magnums of vodka were consumed.
Kaller said the completion of the Torah creates a sense of unity in the Jewish community in Sunny Isles Beach.
''This is a community Torah,'' said Kaller said. ``We're united as a community.''
© 2007 MiamiHerald.com and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.miami.com
Neshei Chabad retreat aimed at all Jewish women
Blumah Wineberg said that more than 50 years ago the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the late Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, had the foresight to create the Lubavitch Woman's Organization known as Neshei U'bnos Chabad.
The Rebbe maintained that women share the obligation to study and master the esoteric "soul" of Torah and thereby achieve knowledge, love and awe of God.
"At that point, he felt that women had tremendous power and ability to bring about change and have tremendous strength to tap into that for spiritual and physical well-being," Wineberg said.
Wineberg, who serves as director of the local Neshei Chabad, said the national organization is still trying to nourish the souls of Jewish women. It will do so next week at its 45th annual Neshei U'bnos Chabad Convention, which will be held in Kansas City Friday through Sunday, Jan. 12-14, at the Hilton Airport Hotel. The weekend's theme is "A Spa for the Body, Mind and Soul." Similar conventions are also held in Europe, Israel and South America.
Sherrill Parkhurst, one of the convention's organizers, said the planning committee comprised of about 32 local women hopes about 200 women will attend the event. So far, registrations have come in from at least 10 states and Canada. They have been planning the convention for about a year, and one of its goals has been to make sure it appeals to all Jewish women.
Indeed, women from all walks of Jewish life - including those who are involved with the Jewish Federation, the Jewish Community Center and several congregations and other women's groups -have taken part in some aspect of planning the event.
"This has brought together women from all over the community who have become new friends, who are now socializing together, sharing Shabboses together in each other's homes. ... I think that's what is so special about this convention," Parkhurst said.
Wineberg pointed out that college-age women are welcome, as well. The Chabad Jewish Center at KU and the Capital District, KU Hillel and the University of Missouri-Kansas City have been promoting the event to their constituents.
The variety of women participating in the convention accurately reflects the national organization, Wineberg said.
"Neshei Chabad reaches out to all Jewish women all over the country and all over the world. In many communities, as in our community, these women are doctors and lawyers and psychologists and homemakers. They all want to know what Jewish spirituality has for them. This is offering them the opportunity to bond and to immerse themselves spiritually with others who are also in the same place," Wineberg said.
Realizing that many women can't commit to a full weekend of activities, Wineberg said that arrangements could be made to attend certain parts of the convention. Cost for the entire weekend is $395. The cost to attend Friday's welcome luncheon in memory of Sherry Kaplan is $36. And it's $100 to attend the workshops, boutique and banquet from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Sunday.
"We have a tremendously beautiful menu for the mind planned," Wineberg said.
Internationally acclaimed speakers (See box) will be featured throughout the weekend. One is Kabbalah expert Rabbi Yossi Jacobson, who is often booked a year to 18 months in advance.
"He (Rabbi Jacobson) is brilliant and delightful," Wineberg said.
Kansas City's own Rabbi Sholom Wineberg, Blumah's husband and founder of the local Chabad House 36 years ago, is another of the acclaimed speakers. He will discuss "The Rebbe's holistic approach to good health." Rabbi Wineberg has authored more than 25 books. He and Blumah Wineberg have been married for 38 years.
"The people of Kansas City really don't know what is here among them," said Parkhurst. "Rabbi Wineberg is very well known all across the country, but Rabbi Wineberg is so modest and always credits his writings to the Rebbe. I can't tell you the people who are in awe around the country when they hear I know Rabbi Wineberg."
Blumah Wineberg said many local participants are excited to hear once again from Sarah Karmely, who visited Kansas City about a year ago for Neshei Chabad's Mikveh Chanah. She is an expert in the laws of family purity and will be presenting a two-hour workshop on them.
Wineberg is also excited to welcome Esther Piekarski, a relationship specialist from Tel Aviv.
"We felt very strongly about having an Israel connection," Wineberg said.
Wineberg's sister, Devorah Alevsky, a Chabad emissary in Cleveland, is also scheduled to speak. She will take part in a three-woman symposium along with Piekarski and Shaindy Jacobson discussing "Breadwinner, Homemaker, Peacemaker - You can do it all - or can you?!?"
As for caring for the soul, Parkhurst points out, "The convention takes place over Shabbos, which is a very soulful time."
Subhead: Feeding the body
Wineberg said all food at the convention would be glatt kosher and prepared by New York chef Ben Zion Turk.
"He prepares the most amazing gourmet food," Wineberg said. "It would be worth coming to the convention for the exquisite kosher cuisine. His presentation is stunning."
She said the committee wanted participants to feel nurtured while at the convention, because women are always giving of themselves. Spa offerings including Pilates, yoga, manicures, facials, massages and swimming.
"These will be interspersed with the educational aspects of the programs," Wineberg said.
Participants can also visit a boutique on Sunday that features local and out-of-town vendors.
"We'll have a full array of Judaica and books," Wineberg said.
For more information about the Neshei U'bnos Chabad Convention, call Wineberg at (913) 649-6736, Parkhurst at (913) 663-5460, or e-mail NeisheiChabad@kc.rr.com. Registration is available online at www.chabadkc.org/retreat.
Convention features well-known speakers
Neshei U'bnos Chabad Convention Jan. 12-14 at the Hilton Airport will feature internationally acclaimed speakers. They include:
* Sarah Karmely is a professional counselor and international lecturer on marital relations and other women's issues. She has published numerous articles and just recently published a book, "Words to Hear with Your Heart." Karmely has been the director of Sha'arei Tova Talmud Torah for the last 15 years and is co-editor of Shalom magazine, a bi-lingual outreach publication.
* Rabbi Sholom B. Wineberg, director of Kansas City's Chabad House, has written more than 25 books on Jewish mysticism, Torah and marriage. His newest three-volume work is titled "Healthy in Mind Body and Spirit."
* Hensha Gansbourg will reveal why a successful graphic artist traded her secular upper-class lifestyle for the Chassidic world of Crown Heights, a story first chronicled in the best seller "Holy Days - The World of the Chassidic Family," by Liz Harris.
* Rabbi Yosef Y. Jacobson is a world-renowned expert on Kabbalah and Chassidut. He will be featured throughout the weekend teaching classes on Tanya, the seminal book of Chabad Chassidut. He is the author of the acclaimed tape series, "A Tale of Two Souls" and "Captain, My Captain," and teaches Kabbalah, Chassidic spirituality and Talmud at the Rabbinical College Chovevay Torah in Brooklyn, N.Y.
* Esther Piekarski is considered one of the foremost relationship experts in Israel. She lectures throughout the world and will be available during the weekend as a lecturer and for private consultation.
* Devorah Alevsky is one of the creators of a series of Rosh Chodesh women's groups and the Inner Visions Kabbalah workshop. Her topics include the significance of the three special mitzvot of the Jewish woman; lighting candles, making challah and Taharat Hamispacha - family sanctity - as well as the origins of the wedding ceremony.
* Rivka Kotlarsky teaches at Bais Rivka High School in Brooklyn. She also teaches "Food for the Body and the Soul" at Chabad of Five Towns in Cedarhurst, N.Y., a class that includes study of the weekly Torah portion spiced with mystical interpretations and contemporary lessons.
The Rebbe maintained that women share the obligation to study and master the esoteric "soul" of Torah and thereby achieve knowledge, love and awe of God.
"At that point, he felt that women had tremendous power and ability to bring about change and have tremendous strength to tap into that for spiritual and physical well-being," Wineberg said.
Wineberg, who serves as director of the local Neshei Chabad, said the national organization is still trying to nourish the souls of Jewish women. It will do so next week at its 45th annual Neshei U'bnos Chabad Convention, which will be held in Kansas City Friday through Sunday, Jan. 12-14, at the Hilton Airport Hotel. The weekend's theme is "A Spa for the Body, Mind and Soul." Similar conventions are also held in Europe, Israel and South America.
Sherrill Parkhurst, one of the convention's organizers, said the planning committee comprised of about 32 local women hopes about 200 women will attend the event. So far, registrations have come in from at least 10 states and Canada. They have been planning the convention for about a year, and one of its goals has been to make sure it appeals to all Jewish women.
Indeed, women from all walks of Jewish life - including those who are involved with the Jewish Federation, the Jewish Community Center and several congregations and other women's groups -have taken part in some aspect of planning the event.
"This has brought together women from all over the community who have become new friends, who are now socializing together, sharing Shabboses together in each other's homes. ... I think that's what is so special about this convention," Parkhurst said.
Wineberg pointed out that college-age women are welcome, as well. The Chabad Jewish Center at KU and the Capital District, KU Hillel and the University of Missouri-Kansas City have been promoting the event to their constituents.
The variety of women participating in the convention accurately reflects the national organization, Wineberg said.
"Neshei Chabad reaches out to all Jewish women all over the country and all over the world. In many communities, as in our community, these women are doctors and lawyers and psychologists and homemakers. They all want to know what Jewish spirituality has for them. This is offering them the opportunity to bond and to immerse themselves spiritually with others who are also in the same place," Wineberg said.
Realizing that many women can't commit to a full weekend of activities, Wineberg said that arrangements could be made to attend certain parts of the convention. Cost for the entire weekend is $395. The cost to attend Friday's welcome luncheon in memory of Sherry Kaplan is $36. And it's $100 to attend the workshops, boutique and banquet from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Sunday.
"We have a tremendously beautiful menu for the mind planned," Wineberg said.
Internationally acclaimed speakers (See box) will be featured throughout the weekend. One is Kabbalah expert Rabbi Yossi Jacobson, who is often booked a year to 18 months in advance.
"He (Rabbi Jacobson) is brilliant and delightful," Wineberg said.
Kansas City's own Rabbi Sholom Wineberg, Blumah's husband and founder of the local Chabad House 36 years ago, is another of the acclaimed speakers. He will discuss "The Rebbe's holistic approach to good health." Rabbi Wineberg has authored more than 25 books. He and Blumah Wineberg have been married for 38 years.
"The people of Kansas City really don't know what is here among them," said Parkhurst. "Rabbi Wineberg is very well known all across the country, but Rabbi Wineberg is so modest and always credits his writings to the Rebbe. I can't tell you the people who are in awe around the country when they hear I know Rabbi Wineberg."
Blumah Wineberg said many local participants are excited to hear once again from Sarah Karmely, who visited Kansas City about a year ago for Neshei Chabad's Mikveh Chanah. She is an expert in the laws of family purity and will be presenting a two-hour workshop on them.
Wineberg is also excited to welcome Esther Piekarski, a relationship specialist from Tel Aviv.
"We felt very strongly about having an Israel connection," Wineberg said.
Wineberg's sister, Devorah Alevsky, a Chabad emissary in Cleveland, is also scheduled to speak. She will take part in a three-woman symposium along with Piekarski and Shaindy Jacobson discussing "Breadwinner, Homemaker, Peacemaker - You can do it all - or can you?!?"
As for caring for the soul, Parkhurst points out, "The convention takes place over Shabbos, which is a very soulful time."
Subhead: Feeding the body
Wineberg said all food at the convention would be glatt kosher and prepared by New York chef Ben Zion Turk.
"He prepares the most amazing gourmet food," Wineberg said. "It would be worth coming to the convention for the exquisite kosher cuisine. His presentation is stunning."
She said the committee wanted participants to feel nurtured while at the convention, because women are always giving of themselves. Spa offerings including Pilates, yoga, manicures, facials, massages and swimming.
"These will be interspersed with the educational aspects of the programs," Wineberg said.
Participants can also visit a boutique on Sunday that features local and out-of-town vendors.
"We'll have a full array of Judaica and books," Wineberg said.
For more information about the Neshei U'bnos Chabad Convention, call Wineberg at (913) 649-6736, Parkhurst at (913) 663-5460, or e-mail NeisheiChabad@kc.rr.com. Registration is available online at www.chabadkc.org/retreat.
Convention features well-known speakers
Neshei U'bnos Chabad Convention Jan. 12-14 at the Hilton Airport will feature internationally acclaimed speakers. They include:
* Sarah Karmely is a professional counselor and international lecturer on marital relations and other women's issues. She has published numerous articles and just recently published a book, "Words to Hear with Your Heart." Karmely has been the director of Sha'arei Tova Talmud Torah for the last 15 years and is co-editor of Shalom magazine, a bi-lingual outreach publication.
* Rabbi Sholom B. Wineberg, director of Kansas City's Chabad House, has written more than 25 books on Jewish mysticism, Torah and marriage. His newest three-volume work is titled "Healthy in Mind Body and Spirit."
* Hensha Gansbourg will reveal why a successful graphic artist traded her secular upper-class lifestyle for the Chassidic world of Crown Heights, a story first chronicled in the best seller "Holy Days - The World of the Chassidic Family," by Liz Harris.
* Rabbi Yosef Y. Jacobson is a world-renowned expert on Kabbalah and Chassidut. He will be featured throughout the weekend teaching classes on Tanya, the seminal book of Chabad Chassidut. He is the author of the acclaimed tape series, "A Tale of Two Souls" and "Captain, My Captain," and teaches Kabbalah, Chassidic spirituality and Talmud at the Rabbinical College Chovevay Torah in Brooklyn, N.Y.
* Esther Piekarski is considered one of the foremost relationship experts in Israel. She lectures throughout the world and will be available during the weekend as a lecturer and for private consultation.
* Devorah Alevsky is one of the creators of a series of Rosh Chodesh women's groups and the Inner Visions Kabbalah workshop. Her topics include the significance of the three special mitzvot of the Jewish woman; lighting candles, making challah and Taharat Hamispacha - family sanctity - as well as the origins of the wedding ceremony.
* Rivka Kotlarsky teaches at Bais Rivka High School in Brooklyn. She also teaches "Food for the Body and the Soul" at Chabad of Five Towns in Cedarhurst, N.Y., a class that includes study of the weekly Torah portion spiced with mystical interpretations and contemporary lessons.
To Pray In Vilednik, Ukraine
In 1993 an Israeli couple, Rabbi Aaron Leib Berger and his wife, decided to move to Korestin, near Vilednik in Ukraine, the city where Rabbi Yisroel Dov Ber, zt”l (1789-1850), author of Shearis Yisroel, lived and was buried. The Shearis Yisroel was a disciple of Rabbi Mordechai Twersky, zt”l (1770-1837), Chernobler Rebbe. During his lifetime, thousands journeyed to the Shearis Yisroel for blessing, inspiration, consultation, and dispensation. Before he passed away, he told his disciples that whoever would reach out and touch his door seeking help would be aided. Today, even thousands of non-Jews come to pray at his gravesite in their times of need. The Shearis Yisroel’s reputation continues to endure amongst generations of Gentiles in the area.
When the Israeli couple arrived, they began their outreach work. Elderly Jews who still remembered the pre-Holocaust observant Jewish presence quickly warmed to the couple and helped establish a regular schedule of minyanim three times a day. Before long, Yeshiva Shearis Yisroel was established in Korestin, and more than 25 boys enrolled. The yeshiva enabled the new-to-Judaism students to learn about their heritage.
Step-by-step, an after-school Torah learning program was organized for the Jewish students attending regional secular schools. A special Sunday program was added. Then, a summer camp was established. And, of course, a mikveh was built and made available to Jewish families.
A kosher kitchen was created with more than 200 meals served daily in its beginning stages. Nourishing kosher meals were delivered to shut-ins. The kitchen had a profound effect upon Jews living in the general area. Their religious identification suddenly came to life and became meaningful.
After the collapse of the Iron Curtain, thousands of Jews, mostly Chassidim, from all over the world increasingly traveled to Vilednik, to pray at the tzaddik’s Ohel (burial chamber). While there, they took notice of the incredible growth of Torah amongst the Jewish populace.
At last year’s yahrzeit celebration, a new Sefer Torah was completed, dedicated to the memory of the Shearis Yisroel, and a grand Hachnasas Sefer Torah celebration was celebrated. The Sefer Torah was placed with and is being used by Yeshiva Shearis Yisroel in Korestin.
At this year’s yahrzeit celebration, several bris ceremonies will be conducted as well as a bar mitzvah for area Jewish children. Several of the students of the yeshiva have graduated to major yeshivas in America, England, Antwerp and in Israel.
The yahrzeit of the Shearis Yisroel is on 21 Teves, corresponding to Wednesday, January 11 this year. Several groups are being organized to visit the holy site. Several will be led by veteran Eastern Europe tour guide Nachman Elbaum. Most groups will leave on Tuesday, January 9, with some returning on Thursday, January 11. The groups will visit a long list of Jewish holy sites in the Polish and Ukrainian regions. Some groups will remain for Shabbos.
When the Israeli couple arrived, they began their outreach work. Elderly Jews who still remembered the pre-Holocaust observant Jewish presence quickly warmed to the couple and helped establish a regular schedule of minyanim three times a day. Before long, Yeshiva Shearis Yisroel was established in Korestin, and more than 25 boys enrolled. The yeshiva enabled the new-to-Judaism students to learn about their heritage.
Step-by-step, an after-school Torah learning program was organized for the Jewish students attending regional secular schools. A special Sunday program was added. Then, a summer camp was established. And, of course, a mikveh was built and made available to Jewish families.
A kosher kitchen was created with more than 200 meals served daily in its beginning stages. Nourishing kosher meals were delivered to shut-ins. The kitchen had a profound effect upon Jews living in the general area. Their religious identification suddenly came to life and became meaningful.
After the collapse of the Iron Curtain, thousands of Jews, mostly Chassidim, from all over the world increasingly traveled to Vilednik, to pray at the tzaddik’s Ohel (burial chamber). While there, they took notice of the incredible growth of Torah amongst the Jewish populace.
At last year’s yahrzeit celebration, a new Sefer Torah was completed, dedicated to the memory of the Shearis Yisroel, and a grand Hachnasas Sefer Torah celebration was celebrated. The Sefer Torah was placed with and is being used by Yeshiva Shearis Yisroel in Korestin.
At this year’s yahrzeit celebration, several bris ceremonies will be conducted as well as a bar mitzvah for area Jewish children. Several of the students of the yeshiva have graduated to major yeshivas in America, England, Antwerp and in Israel.
The yahrzeit of the Shearis Yisroel is on 21 Teves, corresponding to Wednesday, January 11 this year. Several groups are being organized to visit the holy site. Several will be led by veteran Eastern Europe tour guide Nachman Elbaum. Most groups will leave on Tuesday, January 9, with some returning on Thursday, January 11. The groups will visit a long list of Jewish holy sites in the Polish and Ukrainian regions. Some groups will remain for Shabbos.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Chabad seemed to be everywhere in 2006.
Chabad seemed to be everywhere in 2006. First, a new Chabad house opened in Old Tappan. Then, Chabad on the Palisades was left into a large sum of money bequeathed by one of its members. While the legacy is being contested, rumors place it above the $30 million mark. And with that large sum of money came a large renovation of the facility in Tenafly, which Rabbi Mordechai Shain expects to be complete by the spring. While Chabad on the Palisades expanded, Valley Chabad in Woodcliff Lake moved forward on plans to construct a new, bigger building.
As we headed into the winter holiday season, things heated up as Chabad on the Palisades fought the borough of Closter, which had for the first time denied its request to set up a public menorah. In Fair Lawn, Chabad had been trying unsuccessfully for years to set up a menorah at the borough’s municipal building. But in 2006, for the first time ever, Rabbi Levi Neubort won a borough council vote to permit a menorah at the municipal building. As Chanukah drew near, Closter also acceded to Chabad’s request and allowed a menorah lighting at city hall.
As we headed into the winter holiday season, things heated up as Chabad on the Palisades fought the borough of Closter, which had for the first time denied its request to set up a public menorah. In Fair Lawn, Chabad had been trying unsuccessfully for years to set up a menorah at the borough’s municipal building. But in 2006, for the first time ever, Rabbi Levi Neubort won a borough council vote to permit a menorah at the municipal building. As Chanukah drew near, Closter also acceded to Chabad’s request and allowed a menorah lighting at city hall.
Cartoon Riles Readers and Officials
Arnold Soslow wasn't amused when he read an editorial cartoon in a recent edition of the Northeast Times. In fact, Soslow, 68, of Northeast Philadelphia, said he was appalled.
"To me, it was anti-Semitic," said Soslow, calling the cartoonist's spoof of the recent Seattle Christmas tree debacle "offensive and inaccurate." He added, "That just hit home a little bit."
The cartoon, which was printed Dec. 21 in subsidiaries of Broad Street Community Newspapers, shows a mom, dad and son seated before a Christmas tree. With a copy of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol in her lap, the mom reads that "Every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding." The son asks his parents if it was Dickens' protagonist, Ebenezer Scrooge, who said that. His father, engrossed in a paper with a headline reading "Christmas Tree Controversy in Seattle," corrects him:
"Rabbi Elazar Bogomilsky," he says, referring to the Chabad-Lubavitch rabbi blamed for the removal of Christmas trees from Seattle's airport.
Barry Morrison, Philadelphia regional director of the Anti-Defamation League, said he took issue with this punchline. He enumerated his objections in a letter to the Northeast Times.
Morrison said that cartoonist Tom Stiglich "obviously got his facts wrong," considering that the rabbi asked only that a menorah be included in the Seattle airport, not that the Christmas trees there be uprooted.
"He incorrectly puts blame at the feet of the rabbi," he added.
Factual inaccuracies aside, Morrison said the cartoon propagates negative images of Jews.
"The rabbi is a symbol of Jews," he noted. He's portrayed as "the grinch or the scrooge depriving Christians the opportunity to observe their religion."
"The result is that this does contribute to anti-Semitism, stereotyping and demonization."
While Morrison acknowledged the cartoonist's desire "to be edgy -- to get the message across in a way that attracts attention," he said this "doesn't permit him to abandon responsibility and good judgment."
Northeast Times managing editor Fred Gusoff, however, defended the cartoon, dismissing claims that it was offensive.
"People need to take a chill pill," said Gusoff, who said he's received "a few anonymous calls" and angry letters, some of which he intends to print. "People need to relax, not overreact. It's just a cartoon."
Gusoff, who is Jewish, acknowledged that the message tested the limits, but said that "editorial cartoons are by definition controversial at times."
"That's what makes America the cradle of liberty," he said, though "if something falls below the bounds of human decency, we wouldn't do it."
Ryan Smith, managing editor of The Star, which also ran the cartoon, was more apologetic.
"I could see where one could believe the cartoon is a bit short-sighted as far as facts go," he said. "We're obviously not in the business of hate-mongering or anything like that."
He said that his staff did review the cartoon but conceded that "it's not always possible to tell a whole story with one cartoon" since cartoons are "snapshots" of more complex issues.
In an e-mail response, Stiglich, an Art Institute of Philadelphia graduate whose comics have appeared in The New York Times and USA Today, among others, wrote that "My intent with the cartoon was to draw attention to the actions of one individual, not a particular group of people or religion. Bogomilsky just happens to be a rabbi."
Gusoff called Stiglich "a decent guy, not an anti-Semite" who's contributed to his paper as a freelancer for five years.
But Morrison said that in today's world, where a Danish cartoon mocking the Prophet Mohammad caused a public outcry across the Muslim world, cartoons should be seen as "a high-stakes game, not a humorous exercise."
"To me, it was anti-Semitic," said Soslow, calling the cartoonist's spoof of the recent Seattle Christmas tree debacle "offensive and inaccurate." He added, "That just hit home a little bit."
The cartoon, which was printed Dec. 21 in subsidiaries of Broad Street Community Newspapers, shows a mom, dad and son seated before a Christmas tree. With a copy of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol in her lap, the mom reads that "Every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding." The son asks his parents if it was Dickens' protagonist, Ebenezer Scrooge, who said that. His father, engrossed in a paper with a headline reading "Christmas Tree Controversy in Seattle," corrects him:
"Rabbi Elazar Bogomilsky," he says, referring to the Chabad-Lubavitch rabbi blamed for the removal of Christmas trees from Seattle's airport.
Barry Morrison, Philadelphia regional director of the Anti-Defamation League, said he took issue with this punchline. He enumerated his objections in a letter to the Northeast Times.
Morrison said that cartoonist Tom Stiglich "obviously got his facts wrong," considering that the rabbi asked only that a menorah be included in the Seattle airport, not that the Christmas trees there be uprooted.
"He incorrectly puts blame at the feet of the rabbi," he added.
Factual inaccuracies aside, Morrison said the cartoon propagates negative images of Jews.
"The rabbi is a symbol of Jews," he noted. He's portrayed as "the grinch or the scrooge depriving Christians the opportunity to observe their religion."
"The result is that this does contribute to anti-Semitism, stereotyping and demonization."
While Morrison acknowledged the cartoonist's desire "to be edgy -- to get the message across in a way that attracts attention," he said this "doesn't permit him to abandon responsibility and good judgment."
Northeast Times managing editor Fred Gusoff, however, defended the cartoon, dismissing claims that it was offensive.
"People need to take a chill pill," said Gusoff, who said he's received "a few anonymous calls" and angry letters, some of which he intends to print. "People need to relax, not overreact. It's just a cartoon."
Gusoff, who is Jewish, acknowledged that the message tested the limits, but said that "editorial cartoons are by definition controversial at times."
"That's what makes America the cradle of liberty," he said, though "if something falls below the bounds of human decency, we wouldn't do it."
Ryan Smith, managing editor of The Star, which also ran the cartoon, was more apologetic.
"I could see where one could believe the cartoon is a bit short-sighted as far as facts go," he said. "We're obviously not in the business of hate-mongering or anything like that."
He said that his staff did review the cartoon but conceded that "it's not always possible to tell a whole story with one cartoon" since cartoons are "snapshots" of more complex issues.
In an e-mail response, Stiglich, an Art Institute of Philadelphia graduate whose comics have appeared in The New York Times and USA Today, among others, wrote that "My intent with the cartoon was to draw attention to the actions of one individual, not a particular group of people or religion. Bogomilsky just happens to be a rabbi."
Gusoff called Stiglich "a decent guy, not an anti-Semite" who's contributed to his paper as a freelancer for five years.
But Morrison said that in today's world, where a Danish cartoon mocking the Prophet Mohammad caused a public outcry across the Muslim world, cartoons should be seen as "a high-stakes game, not a humorous exercise."
Chile's Jews part of the larger community in Santiago
By Peter Rothholz
When a fire alarm sounds in the south-central section of Santiago, it's answered by a unique company of firefighters -- Bomba Israel. In keeping with the Chilean custom, this is an all-volunteer bomba (fire brigade), and each of the company's firefighters is Jewish. Their emblem is the Star of David and their trucks proudly fly the flag of Israel alongside that of Chile.
Established in 1954 in what was once a largely Jewish section of Santiago, Bomba Israel was created by the Jewish community "to thank the country that welcomed them," said firefighter Robert Segal, 23, the son of a German-born Jewish mother and a Jewish Chilean father.
Despite the country's very large and vocal Palestinian community and a history of dictatorships on the left, as well as on the right, Chile has been quite hospitable to Jewish immigrants. The Chilean Jewish community consists of more than 20,000 people, with the majority living in Santiago, the country's capital.
Today's Chilean Jewish community is well integrated and relatively prosperous.
Many Jews are prominent professionals, academics and civil servants, including an ambassador to Russia and three Cabinet members. And the backgrounds of the diverse Bomba Israel crew include everything from businessmen and lawyers to manual workers.
Segal, a student, is among the diverse crew at the station located in what is now a blue-collar neighborhood.
"The role we play in the image of the Jewish community is very important," he said. "Many people can't believe that Jews do this kind of work; they think we're all rich and powerful and don't want to dirty our hands."
Segal said that except for the fact that all of its members are Jewish, Bomba Israel is a regular fire company. It owns two pieces of equipment, one of which is a state-of-the-art rescue truck that is used for automobile accidents more often than fires.
In addition to its regular members, Bomba Israel also supports a youth brigade of 20 cadets ages 12 to 17. Like the senior members, they receive extensive training in firefighting, rescue operations, first aid and CPR. When they reach age 18 they can qualify for full membership in the company.
While many visitors to Chile are attracted to its spectacular scenery rather than its cities, Jewish travelers can add a stimulating dimension to a visit by connecting with Santiago's welcoming Jewish community.
Santiago has about a dozen synagogues, including a palatial Chabad House in the fashionable La Dehesa section, an Aish HaTorah shul and Beit Emunah, a relatively new chavurah in the upscale Las Condes neighborhood. There is a sizeable Sephardic community with its own synagogue, as well as a Progressive (Reform) temple, Or Shalom, and two conservative congregations, Maguen David and B'nei Israel.
B'nei Israel is often referred to as "the German synagogue" because it was founded by refugees from Nazi Germany and Austria, and its membership is still made up largely of their descendants. Services are conducted in Hebrew and Spanish and there is a great emphasis on music and communal singing.
The new Chabad House is a remarkable Jewish development in Santiago. Located in an upscale suburb, the building's façade is a vastly expanded replica of 770 Eastern Parkway, the world headquarters of Chabad Lubavitch in Brooklyn. The interior of the building is not complete, but Rabbi Menashe Perman is proud to show off the luxurious mikvah and the enormous social hall. While the sanctuary is still not finished, the rabbi reported that some 400 worshippers attended High Holiday services.
Construction for the Chabad House began in 2002. The building was designed by Jorge Haichelis, a local Jewish architect and Chabad member, and the project was largely underwritten by David and Sarah Feuerstein. David Feuerstein, 81, is a Warsaw Ghetto and Auschwitz survivor, and serves as president of the Chabad of Chile and director of the International Committee of Yad Vashem.
The Chabad compound also includes a separate building that is used for the daily minyan, as well as the preschool play group and women's group, both organized by rebbetzin Chaya Perman. The extensive youth activities are under the direction of Rabbi Yishai Libersohn, a Mexico City native and the Permans' son-in-law.
Although the vast majority of Chilean Jews are secular, they have developed a rich network of educational and social organizations. Among them are B'nai B'rith, Maccabi sports clubs, as well as two Jewish day schools. The Chilean Jewish community has close ties with Israel and many of its young people visit Israel during their last year of high school.
Peter Rothholz, who headed his own Manhattan-based public relations agency, now lives in Santa Monica and East Hampton, N.Y., and is a frequent contributor to Jewish publications.
© 2006 jewishjournal.com
When a fire alarm sounds in the south-central section of Santiago, it's answered by a unique company of firefighters -- Bomba Israel. In keeping with the Chilean custom, this is an all-volunteer bomba (fire brigade), and each of the company's firefighters is Jewish. Their emblem is the Star of David and their trucks proudly fly the flag of Israel alongside that of Chile.
Established in 1954 in what was once a largely Jewish section of Santiago, Bomba Israel was created by the Jewish community "to thank the country that welcomed them," said firefighter Robert Segal, 23, the son of a German-born Jewish mother and a Jewish Chilean father.
Despite the country's very large and vocal Palestinian community and a history of dictatorships on the left, as well as on the right, Chile has been quite hospitable to Jewish immigrants. The Chilean Jewish community consists of more than 20,000 people, with the majority living in Santiago, the country's capital.
Today's Chilean Jewish community is well integrated and relatively prosperous.
Many Jews are prominent professionals, academics and civil servants, including an ambassador to Russia and three Cabinet members. And the backgrounds of the diverse Bomba Israel crew include everything from businessmen and lawyers to manual workers.
Segal, a student, is among the diverse crew at the station located in what is now a blue-collar neighborhood.
"The role we play in the image of the Jewish community is very important," he said. "Many people can't believe that Jews do this kind of work; they think we're all rich and powerful and don't want to dirty our hands."
Segal said that except for the fact that all of its members are Jewish, Bomba Israel is a regular fire company. It owns two pieces of equipment, one of which is a state-of-the-art rescue truck that is used for automobile accidents more often than fires.
In addition to its regular members, Bomba Israel also supports a youth brigade of 20 cadets ages 12 to 17. Like the senior members, they receive extensive training in firefighting, rescue operations, first aid and CPR. When they reach age 18 they can qualify for full membership in the company.
While many visitors to Chile are attracted to its spectacular scenery rather than its cities, Jewish travelers can add a stimulating dimension to a visit by connecting with Santiago's welcoming Jewish community.
Santiago has about a dozen synagogues, including a palatial Chabad House in the fashionable La Dehesa section, an Aish HaTorah shul and Beit Emunah, a relatively new chavurah in the upscale Las Condes neighborhood. There is a sizeable Sephardic community with its own synagogue, as well as a Progressive (Reform) temple, Or Shalom, and two conservative congregations, Maguen David and B'nei Israel.
B'nei Israel is often referred to as "the German synagogue" because it was founded by refugees from Nazi Germany and Austria, and its membership is still made up largely of their descendants. Services are conducted in Hebrew and Spanish and there is a great emphasis on music and communal singing.
The new Chabad House is a remarkable Jewish development in Santiago. Located in an upscale suburb, the building's façade is a vastly expanded replica of 770 Eastern Parkway, the world headquarters of Chabad Lubavitch in Brooklyn. The interior of the building is not complete, but Rabbi Menashe Perman is proud to show off the luxurious mikvah and the enormous social hall. While the sanctuary is still not finished, the rabbi reported that some 400 worshippers attended High Holiday services.
Construction for the Chabad House began in 2002. The building was designed by Jorge Haichelis, a local Jewish architect and Chabad member, and the project was largely underwritten by David and Sarah Feuerstein. David Feuerstein, 81, is a Warsaw Ghetto and Auschwitz survivor, and serves as president of the Chabad of Chile and director of the International Committee of Yad Vashem.
The Chabad compound also includes a separate building that is used for the daily minyan, as well as the preschool play group and women's group, both organized by rebbetzin Chaya Perman. The extensive youth activities are under the direction of Rabbi Yishai Libersohn, a Mexico City native and the Permans' son-in-law.
Although the vast majority of Chilean Jews are secular, they have developed a rich network of educational and social organizations. Among them are B'nai B'rith, Maccabi sports clubs, as well as two Jewish day schools. The Chilean Jewish community has close ties with Israel and many of its young people visit Israel during their last year of high school.
Peter Rothholz, who headed his own Manhattan-based public relations agency, now lives in Santa Monica and East Hampton, N.Y., and is a frequent contributor to Jewish publications.
© 2006 jewishjournal.com
What luck! A kosher meal in Luang Prubang
I was searching for a place to stay in Luang Prubang, Laos, and passed by the Beit Chabad. It was Friday night and I stopped in to find out when Shabbat services would start. After I dropped my stuff off at my $3 palace, I returned for Shabbat. When I arrived, I was the eighth person, not enough for a minyan. I thought I might be the last one, but Israeli backpackers trickled in and we had more than enough.
After services, we gathered for a lovely Shabbat meal. There were more than 30 people at the Beit Chabad, almost all of them Israeli backpackers, either coming from Thailand or from southern Laos. We enjoyed a kosher meal of halla, Israelis salads, soup and schnitzel, and sang many Shabbat songs.
I didn't mean for this series to turn into a public relations piece for Chabad, but they are really the only ones out here with any Jewish communal institutions. The Beit Chabad in Luang Prubang serves as an outpost of Judaism, a place to find the familiar in a far-flung land. It is a beacon for Jewish travelers and Israeli backpackers, all of whom are quite thankful to find community and a kosher meal in the middle of Southeast Asia.
Four Jews live in Luang Prubang, not including the Chabad emissaries. But because of the many Jewish travelers who pass through Luang Prubang, Chabad in Thailand decided to open a branch in Laos. Luang Prubang was chosen over Vientiane, as travelers tend to spend time in Luang Prubang but pass through the sleepy capital.
Beit Chabad opened in Laos just before last Pessah. Some 120 people attended the first seder. Close to 70 people came for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Between 30 to 60 people attend Shabbat services.
Beit Chabad provides travelers a place of study and kosher food, and helps them many other ways, such as contacting relatives. There is no mikva that meets halachic standards for women, but there is a bamboo mikva men can use. The kosher meat is brought from Bangkok, where there is a shochat. Kosher milk products and other food items are sent to Bangkok every year and distributed to Beit Chabad in Laos. Some kosher products are sold in stores.
I spoke with Avraham Leiter, an amiable 22-year-old from Safed. He has been a Chabad shaliach in Luang Prubang for three and a half months. He said Chabad helps people as a tenet of Judaism.
Leiter said the Beit Chabad would like to open a kosher restaurant and a tourist center. For now, it helps Jewish travelers, something this wandering Jew happily appreciates.
Paul Rockower served as the press officer for the Israeli Consulate in Houston from 2003-2006. He is on a six-month trek around the world. You can read more of his misadventures at his blog:
http://levantine18.blogspot.com
After services, we gathered for a lovely Shabbat meal. There were more than 30 people at the Beit Chabad, almost all of them Israeli backpackers, either coming from Thailand or from southern Laos. We enjoyed a kosher meal of halla, Israelis salads, soup and schnitzel, and sang many Shabbat songs.
I didn't mean for this series to turn into a public relations piece for Chabad, but they are really the only ones out here with any Jewish communal institutions. The Beit Chabad in Luang Prubang serves as an outpost of Judaism, a place to find the familiar in a far-flung land. It is a beacon for Jewish travelers and Israeli backpackers, all of whom are quite thankful to find community and a kosher meal in the middle of Southeast Asia.
Four Jews live in Luang Prubang, not including the Chabad emissaries. But because of the many Jewish travelers who pass through Luang Prubang, Chabad in Thailand decided to open a branch in Laos. Luang Prubang was chosen over Vientiane, as travelers tend to spend time in Luang Prubang but pass through the sleepy capital.
Beit Chabad opened in Laos just before last Pessah. Some 120 people attended the first seder. Close to 70 people came for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Between 30 to 60 people attend Shabbat services.
Beit Chabad provides travelers a place of study and kosher food, and helps them many other ways, such as contacting relatives. There is no mikva that meets halachic standards for women, but there is a bamboo mikva men can use. The kosher meat is brought from Bangkok, where there is a shochat. Kosher milk products and other food items are sent to Bangkok every year and distributed to Beit Chabad in Laos. Some kosher products are sold in stores.
I spoke with Avraham Leiter, an amiable 22-year-old from Safed. He has been a Chabad shaliach in Luang Prubang for three and a half months. He said Chabad helps people as a tenet of Judaism.
Leiter said the Beit Chabad would like to open a kosher restaurant and a tourist center. For now, it helps Jewish travelers, something this wandering Jew happily appreciates.
Paul Rockower served as the press officer for the Israeli Consulate in Houston from 2003-2006. He is on a six-month trek around the world. You can read more of his misadventures at his blog:
http://levantine18.blogspot.com
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