Archive for the ‘Columnists’ Category
Posted on August 19, 2010 - by admin
In My Mind’s I
By Harriet P. Gross
It used to be that I’d have to go to the library, or pick up the phone, or at least consult my encyclopedia, to find out something I wanted to know. Today, I just sit at the keyboard and Google.
And when I’m not Googling myself, people are sending me things that they’ve found. Some are bits of trivia. Some are whole compilations. I enjoy reading them, uncoupling and recombining them, and passing on the good parts. Here’s a collection with Jewish connections. Some of these I already knew to be fact; others need to be checked out — perhaps with the help of Google. So, let’s play some true-or-false today. If you don’t know: your guesses are at least as good as mine.
Joseph Stalin’s original name was Joseph David Djugashvili, a last name translating to “son of a Jew.” All of his wives were Jewish (he had three of them).
Lillian Friedman’s husband was Cruz Rivera. Their son is Geraldo Miguel Rivera. (Back in Chicago a long time ago, we called him Gerry Rivers!)
More famous folk than you’re probably aware of are at least religiously, technically Jewish, since their mothers are at least supposed to have been Jewish themselves. Among them: Fiorello LaGuardia, Winston Churchill, Peter Sellers, Robert DeNiro, David Bowie, Shari Belafonte, Harrison Ford and Cary Grant. Quite an array, yes?
Let’s take a look at medicine. We all should know that Drs. Jonas Salk and Albert Sabin developed the first polio vaccines, and that Sigmund Freud is the father of psychiatry. But Dr. Abraham Waksman came up with the word “antibiotics”; another Dr. Abraham, this one surnamed Jacobi, is considered the founder of pediatrics as a medical specialty; Dr.Simon Baruch was the first to successfully remove an appendix; Dr. Paul Ehrlich won the Nobel Prize in 1908 for discovering a cure for syphilis; and biochemist Casimir Funk did pioneering research on vitamins. These last all check out as Jews. Also purported to be Jewish is one Dr. Sicarry, who debunked a once-pervasive myth by proving that the tomato is not poisonous. I’ve been unable to find his first name anywhere, but I say a thank-you to him anyway every time I have a Caprese salad.
How about the worlds of art and entertainment? It’s common knowledge that Emma Lazarus penned the poem gracing the base of the Statue of Liberty, that Irving Berlin contributed the ever-popular “White Christmas” to our country’s religious majority, that Florenz (“Flo”) Ziegfeld fathered American burlesque, and that the most successful filmmaker in filmmaking history is the Jew whose mother is quoted as saying, “You have a son. You do the best you can raising him. And then he turns out to be Steven Spielberg…”). But did you know that movie mogul Louis B. Mayer originated the Oscar?
A bit more obscure: In 1918 in Detroit, Max Goldberg opened the first commercial parking lot. Eight years earlier, Louis Blaustein and his son had opened the first gas station. I don’t know what happened to Goldberg, but the Blausteins went on to found Amoco and make a true fortune in motor fuel.
And here’s something fun to think about: Thomas Edison is credited with inventing the phonograph, but the Jewish Emile Berliner patented the gramophone — a recording device that uses a disc rather than Edison’s cylinder. That famous dog listening to “his master’s voice” as the trademark of Victor Talking Machine Company (now RCA) was actually looking at Berliner’s creation, not Edison’s.
What about business? The Altmans, Gimbels, Kaufmanns, Lazaruses, Magnins and Mays — to say nothing of the Neimans and the Marcuses — were department store giants and geniuses. The Strauses, Isidor and Nathan, built a retailing empire as Abraham and Straus, later becoming Macy’s; Isidor lost his life on the Titanic after deciding not to accompany his brother to Palestine following a European trip. Some say God was involved in that. Some joke that a poor Jewish needleworker went into partnership with God to form the top fashion firm known as Lord and Taylor. But this has yet to be proved.
And some also say that the early discount chain success, E.J. Korvette (or Korvetts), founded in New York in 1948, was actually named not for any single person, but for “Eight Jewish Korean (War) Veterans.” Google this one with a question about its truth, and you’ll get this definitive answer: “There is no answer.”
Isn’t it fun to be part of that slim one-quarter of 1 percent of the world’s population that’s Jewish?
E-mail: harrietg@texasjewishpost.com
Posted on August 19, 2010 - by admin
Ask the Rabbi
Rabbi,
There is just something uncomfortable about your position regarding “Women at the Wall,” and with your response to Richard R., the matter may require even more fleshing-out.
The fact of the matter is that in Judaism, among Jews, there has always been a hierarchical structure of adherence to ritual. Whether ritual and liturgy are prescribed in the Torah, Talmud or Midrash, the fact of the matter is that we — and you — have no personal knowledge of the “detail” of Temple worship. The texts simply do not operate in the doctrinaire way you seem to believe; any knowledge we claim to possess is grounded only in belief. I do not mean to discount belief — yours or others’ — but to recognize its presence in this calculus of “Women at the Wall,” and the need to respect and allow for belief. As you know, even “Orthodox” liturgy in the various siddurim has differences in content, wording and order. In fact, the true detail of Temple worship will not be known until the advent of the Messianic age. For you or others to contend to already have knowledge is an affront to all the streams of Judaism.
—Norton R.
Dear Norton,
Your remarks seem to evade numerous tractates of Talmud which describe in great detail the worship in the Temple. In fact, an entire order of Mishnah is dedicated to the Temple worship and many other sections of Mishnah and Talmud as well. Please keep in mind that many of the sages quoted in these teachings were rabbis who lived during the Second Temple and related firsthand information of what they actually witnessed. Although there are disagreements on minutiae, these concern only the minutest of details. With regards to all major issues, the sages are in agreement of what transpired in the Temple worship.
These details apply not only to the rituals observed in the Temple, but to the actual physical structure of the Temple as well. An entire tractate, called Midot, is dedicated to the construction and constitution of the structure of the Temple. Some details, such as the balcony for women to separate men and women during the Temple worship and ceremonies, are outlined in the Talmud based upon verses in the Torah (see Tractate Sukkah 51b-52a). This is all a matter of knowledge, not of belief.
I’m not sure why you maintain that our knowledge of what transpired in the Temple should be an affront to any “stream” of Judaism. All Jews should be proud of our history and the knowledge that we have. It would seem that those streams are choosing to do what they do despite that knowledge, not out of ignorance of it. And even if some stream would take offense to that knowledge, I hardly think this would be a reason to erase hundreds of pages of Mishnah and Talmud to alleviate those feelings.
The differences you mention in the traditional siddur (prayer book) are similar to the above. The basic foundation of the siddur is outlined in the Talmud, mainly in Tractate Brachot, and was codified by the Men of the Great Assembly in the beginning of the return from the Babylonian exile, during the time of the building of the Second Temple. Among that assembly were the final prophets of Israel. There may be some very minute differences between siddurim (some based on Kabbalistic thoughts), but the basic structure remains the same with all. Any traditional Jew would be comfortable praying in any type of synagogue — Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Chassidic — and would find his or her place in the siddur despite different tunes, etc. May we all remain united in this way!
Rabbi Yerachmiel D. Fried, noted scholar and author of numerous works on Jewish law, philosophy and Talmud, is founder and dean of DATA, the Dallas Kollel. Questions can be sent to him at yfried@sbcglobal.net.
Posted on August 19, 2010 - by admin
Shalom From the Shabbat Lady
By Laura Seymour
Dear Families,
Jacob takes his journey away from his home, falls asleep with a rock for a pillow and has a dream. He wakes up and says, “G-d was in this place and I did not know it!” The Hebrew word that is used is makom (place) and it is repeated in order to emphasize that this was a sacred place where Jacob experiences G-d. How do we create a sacred space? What is your sacred space where you feel G-d’s presence?
Here are some ways to look for G-d in nature — find your makom:
•Look up and around. What do you see?
•If you were a bird, where would you build a nest?
•Take off your shoes and walk barefoot — feel the different types of ground cover.
•Close your eyes and listen for three natural sounds.
•Pretend you are a rock.
•Close your eyes and explore a tree.
•Talk about these texts:
“As civilization advances, the sense of wonder declines. Such decline is an alarming symptom of our state of mind. We will not perish for want of information, but only for want of appreciation.” —A.J.Heschel
“In order to serve G-d, one needs to access the enjoyment of the beauties of nature, such as the contemplation of flower-decorated meadows, majestic mountains and flowing rivers. All these are essential to the spiritual development of even the holiest of people.” —Maimonides
“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and G-d. Only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that G-d wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As long as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow…. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.” —“Diary of a Young Girl” by Anne Frank
- Put your hands on the ground and make a wish for the earth.
- In your own way, take a moment to thank G-d for the gift of living!
Laura Seymour is director of camping services and Jewish life and learning at the Jewish Community Center of Dallas.
Posted on July 8, 2010 - by admin
In My Mind’s I
By Harriet P. Gross
We all know that Emma Lazarus, who wrote the famous poem that graces the Statue of Liberty, was Jewish. Don’t we? And that lots of the “huddled masses yearning to be free” who accepted her invitation to enter the United States’ “golden door” were Jewish, too? They may not have found the streets paved with gold, but many of them found gold in other places.
As a people, we probably count for no more than 1 percent of the world’s population, but we can be proud of our impact. Take a look at the trio of men who can easily be cited as the globe’s most influential in the past couple of centuries: Einstein. Freud. Lenin. Science, medicine and history would have been vastly different without them.
And so would the mercantile industry of our own country. Here’s something I learned a long time ago, that has much to do with what I mentioned last week: the inability of many Jews, in many parts of the world, for many years, to own property. Or to work in many trades, either. What can men and women do then to feed their families?
Shakespeare made much of Shylock the moneylender. Years and years ago, in much of Europe, Jews were encouraged to enter that business because the church forbade its members to make interest-bearing loans. Yet people sometimes needed to borrow. They would bring things as security for the currency they required, and so the pawnshop was born.
Then, what if those things were not redeemed? Ah — they became the possessions of the one holding them. Pawned clothing turned into a source of literal material for making items that could be sold; learn to reshape garments, and one was now a tailor, a dressmaker. The tools were minimal, and portable: a needle and thread, and a skill that could go anywhere, as necessary. It’s not a surprise that when those “huddled masses” arrived in America, they huddled again in sweatshops, and our country’s garment industry was born.
Selling could also take place on streets, from carts. And when those peddlers could, they stabilized themselves in shops. It’s no surprise, either, that so many great names in department stores, and of the clothing sold in them, are Jewish ones. Altman. Gimbel. Magnin. Kuppenheimer. Strauss. In a way, the church helped, or forced, this to happen.
Here’s another interesting connection: In the fourth century, a young priest in Turkey became legendary by helping out a poor family in a way the time and place required: by providing dowries for its three daughters, without which they would not be considered marriage material. In the dark of night, Nicholas tossed a bag of gold for each of them through a window of their house, and tradition says the bags landed in the shoes the girls had left on the floor. Of course he became famous, was revered and was eventually sainted. In America, “stockings are hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon will be there”; but in some other countries, children still find holiday gifts in their shoes on Christmas morning.
Guess what? That’s not all! Those three bags of gold moved from being the stuff of legend to solid reality: Three gold balls became the symbol of — pawnbrokers, who would display them outside their shops! And in the tradition of the church, Santa Claus — a quick verbal shorthand for “Saint Nicholas” — is the patron saint of pawnbrokers. And also of merchants.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” as Lewis Carroll had Alice in Wonderland say; the Jewish-Christian connection goes on. There was a time, not like our own, when many foods were strictly seasonal. Fruits, especially. An orange in winter was an expensive rarity. So oranges — precious gold balls that they were then — became treasured Christmas gifts, fillers of shoes and stockings. Another little factoid buried in history.
So why am I talking about all this now, in the heat of summer? Because of Israel’s famed Jaffa oranges. Isn’t it amazing that people once denied land of their own, when they finally secured some, were able to grow the most delicious balls of gold on earth and send them all over the earth to be enjoyed?
On my recent Israel visit, I enjoyed many wonderful oranges — even though the Jaffas are no longer such important exports as they once were. (But I also ate what I’m sure are the most delicious dates on earth!)
E-mail: harrietg@texasjewishpost.com
Posted on July 8, 2010 - by admin
Ask the Rabbi
Dear Rabbi Fried,
I would like to inquire about the three weeks of mourning being observed by Orthodox Jews. Why need we mourn something that happened so long ago? I always thought Jews don’t mourn the loss of a loved one forever; we accept God’s will and eventually move on. Why is this different?
—Jonathan P.
Dear Jonathan,
The period you are referring to, known as the “Three Weeks,” is based upon a verse in Lamentations which mentions the mourning period “between the borders.” This is the three-week period between the 17th of the Jewish month of Tamuz and the ninth of the month of Av, known as the fast day of Tisha B’Av. The latter fast will begin on Monday, July 19 and end Tuesday, July 20 at nightfall. During this time we mourn, among other things, the destruction of the two Temples in Jerusalem, both on the same Jewish date of Tisha B’Av.
The destruction of the Temples is the focal point of our subsequent exile and dispersion among the nations of the world. It punctuates the downfall of the Jewish people from its greatness to becoming the punching bag of the nations. This event also epitomizes the spiritual distance we created between us and the Al-mighty, from the Shechinah or Divine Presence. The Temples stood as “G-d’s dwelling place” among our people. Our understanding is that all subsequent calamities which have befallen our people are outgrowths of the distance between us and G-d, which was finalized by the destruction during this period.
During this period we are not simply mourning what happened “once upon a time,” although that’s a part of it. We are not merely bereaved over the loss of that edifice called the Temple, as terrible as that loss was in its own right. We mourn the physical distance between most of us and Israel, the spiritual remoteness between the Jews and the Shechinah. We continue to mourn all the pogroms, inquisitions and expulsions we have suffered over the years. We mourn the Chemelnitzki massacres; the unspeakable Holocaust; the suicide bombings of Israeli cafés and buses which plague us until today. We also mourn the “silent holocaust” transpiring right in our midst: the complete assimilation of hundreds of thousands of Jews right in our front yards.
To understand this a bit deeper: The Talmud says that “any generation in which the Temple was not rebuilt, it is as if they destroyed it.” This means that there were certain misdeeds and sins which brought about the destruction of the Temple. The Second Temple’s destruction relates most directly to us as we currently are living in the exile wrought by its annihilation. The Talmud cites the reason this Temple was ruined: hatred between fellow Jews. Combining this with the previous statement, we learn that if the Temple has not yet been rebuilt in our generation, we still harbor a level of loathing between one Jew and the next which would be sufficient to have the Temple destroyed if it were standing today!
Hence we have a more profound understanding of the mourning of this period. We lament the present state of our people: lacking the love and understanding and brotherhood which would make us the Jewish community that we should be. Your question is correct. We truly don’t practice open-ended grief for the loss of a loved one. We accept G-d’s judgment as true and just; we mourn for a period of time and then move on with our lives. The bereavement of these three weeks is different: The reason for the loss is alive and well and needs to be dealt with. Its purpose is to wake us up and make us take notice of our situation and, it is hoped, cause us to rectify our circumstances in a way which is redeeming. In this case, going out of our way to build love, trust and respect for our fellow Jews would be a great start. Who knows, it just might tip the scale!
Rabbi Yerachmiel D. Fried, noted scholar and author of numerous works on Jewish law, philosophy and Talmud, is founder and dean of DATA, the Dallas Kollel. Questions can be sent to him at yfried@sbcglobal.net.
Posted on July 8, 2010 - by admin
Shalom From the Shabbat Lady
By Laura Seymour
Dear Families,
Each morning, there are traditional blessings recited upon waking up. One of the prayers says: “Blessed are You, Adonai, our G-d, Ruler of the universe, who gives sight to the blind (pokei’ah ivrim).” Thankfully, very few people are actually blind, so why do we say this prayer every morning? It may be that in some ways, we are all blind as we close our eyes, not seeing the wonderful things in our world. We take so much for granted and we have become blind to the wonders around us. When we say this prayer, we are asking to have our eyes opened.
Here is a fun activity to enjoy outdoors in nature, in your back yard or even in your home. What are the things that we have closed our eyes to and taken for granted? Why is it important to open our eyes and really see?
Activity
•Choose a partner. This activity should be done in silence.
•The “A” partner closes his/her eyes and the “B” partner walks the “A” partner to a special natural view (a flower, a rock, etc.).
•”B” partner should take the head of “A” and adjust the line of vision just as if they were a camera — it can be a close-up or a panoramic view.
•Recite the pokei’ah ivrim blessing and tug on the ear of “A” to open his/her eyes.
•“A” should take in the view as if for the first time.
“Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, pokei’ah ivrim.”
“Blessed are You, Adonai our G-d, Ruler of the universe, who gives sight to the blind.”
Questions
•How did it feel to be led around? How did it feel to be able to see again?
•What did you see that you didn’t notice before?
•How did it feel to lead a blind person around?
•What was it like to choose a special sight to see? Why did you choose that view?
Laura Seymour is director of camping services and Jewish life and learning at the Jewish Community Center of Dallas.
Posted on July 1, 2010 - by admin
In My Mind’s I
By Harriet P. Gross
Waves from the recent Helen Thomas affair keep washing over me. I remember once standing up in a speedboat and watching its foamy wake heal into smoothness again. But I look back on this and, although many may have already sailed on, forgetting the once-revered journalist’s poisoned remarks about Jews and Israel, I have not. I still see roiling waters. Let me share a few of them with you.
First: Ralph Nader. The long-esteemed consumer advocate who has, since his early triumphs, trilled off into other areas, came quickly to Ms. Thomas’ defense, characterizing her career termination as “swift and merciless.” He called the action an “evisceration” launched by, among others, Ari Fleischer. In her defense, he offers quotes from a couple of Jewish journalists: Fox’s Ellen Ratner (“We all have said things that we wouldn’t want to see in print or on video…. Anyone who denies it is a liar. Give Helen a break…”) and Michael Freedman, formerly of UPI (“Who among us has not said something we have come to regret? Let’s not destroy Ms. Thomas now…”). He concludes that she has been fired “ostensibly for a gaffe, but really for being too right, too early, too often.”
(Should I [not] mention that Nader, like Thomas, is of Lebanese origin, and “perhaps” shares similar sympathies?)
In contrast: an open letter to Helen from a rabbi in New York, David Algaze — also of Lebanese descent. He’s sarcastic to the max when he begins with a “thank-you for the important service you rendered through your words about the Jews and their place in the world….” Discounting the theory of some that one of journalism’s formerly finest is now too old to be practicing her craft, he goes on: “I do not believe your words were the result of some incipient symptoms of Alzheimer’s; your words revealed what is in your mind, and that is why I am grateful for your honesty…. Now the mean, unforgiving and biased Helen Thomas has been revealed to us in full. It certainly is not flattering to you, but it is the true self, and we appreciate your allowing us to see the true Helen Thomas at last.”
The meat of the rabbi’s message comes next: “This is not to deny your right to your opinions. You have every right to defend the Arab claims … but to do it in such an ignorant and hateful manner reveals that under the patina of courteous speech and elegant demeanor, there lies beneath the skin … a measure of hatred, a desire for revenge, and a meanness of spirit. Your position is not just anti-Semitic; it is anti-human…. Thank you, Ms. Thomas, for allowing the world to see what an Arab sympathizer really is about … I hope the world is grateful to you for the candid revelation of the mind of a ‘progressive’ Arab.”
In the wake of my previous Thomas column and my reminiscent speedboat ride, a reader has sent me the words of Canadian writer Mark Steyn (not a Jewish Stein, notes my correspondent), whose post-Thomas piece in Macleans magazine is headed “The lesson of a Jewish cemetery,” one he visited recently in Tangiers, which once had a thriving Jewish community, he says. But now all of Tangiers’ Jews “live” in that burial ground… as do the Jews of many former communities around the world.
“Wherever a Jew is, whatever a Jew is, he should be something else, somewhere else,” Steyn says. “And then he can be hated for that, too.”
For this thoughtful commentator, everything today still comes down to one of the world’s oldest prejudices: “…that in the modern world as much as in medieval Christendom, Jews can never be accorded full property rights,” he says. On a patch of the Holy Land, they are certainly the current leaseholders, but they will never have recognized legal title…. That’s the reason the Palestinian question is never settled. Because, as long as it’s unresolved, then Israel’s legitimacy is unsettled, too.”
So I’ve been pondering Nader’s hatred along with Thomas’; wondering if Rabbi Algaze’s sarcasm can hit home or do any good; and considering the truth of Steyn’s bottom line: “There are a lot of Jews in Israel right now. But then, there were a lot of them in Tangiers and Baghdad and Bukovina and Germany and Poland, for a while. Why shouldn’t Tel Aviv one day be just another city with some crumbling cemeteries and a few elderly Jews?”
My metaphoric speedboat sails on in still-troubled waters.
E-mail: harrietg@texasjewishpost.com
Posted on July 1, 2010 - by admin
Ask the Rabbi
Dear Rabbi Fried,
A short time ago in your column you addressed the issue of talking in synagogue and attributed the problem, in part, to the lack of connection most Jews today have to the prayer service due to our deficiency in Hebrew. You suggested that shuls should have training programs to educate the congregants in the understanding and nuances of the prayer service. If my place of worship does not offer such classes, what do you recommend I do to become educated and connected to the service?
—Curious but Clueless
Dear Curious,
You could check the community calendar and see what courses are available for you to study Hebrew. The problem, however, with most such classes is that they will focus on modern Hebrew and not the classical Hebrew of the siddur (prayerbook). I will add your e-mail to the DATA list to keep you apprised of the courses we offer, from time to time, on Hebrew reading and comprehension based on the siddur and classical texts which would be helpful in your quest.
Next is what I have recommended to many for private self-study; most have reported back that this was helpful for them and they achieved success. That is to pick one blessing of the Amidah, or the first line of the Sh’ma, and work on understanding each word of that particular prayer. That line or prayer should be recited in Hebrew until you totally master it; the rest, pray in English. Once you are completely fluent in that prayer, then move on to the next one and do the same. You will find each prayer successively easier, as many words are repeated throughout the service which you already know from the previous blessing or line. You’ll pick up a few new words with the next. Never move on to the next prayer until you’re confident of the one at hand.
While studying the translation of each prayer, it’s a great time to focus on its meaning as well. Whether using your own thoughts or by studying a commentary, try to understand what that prayer asks for and how to make it relevant to your own life. In the Amidah, it’s relatively easy to connect to requests like those for healing and material success. It’s more difficult, for many, to personally connect to those asking for the return of the Judges, or rebuilding Jerusalem or the Davidic dynasty. For that I recommend the ArtScroll Siddur, which has a concise but meaningful commentary. To go more in depth, I suggest “Rav Schwab on Prayer,” a powerful, profound commentary which explains the far-reaching significance of each prayer and how it affects our lives and the Jewish people.
Even the prayers for health and the like have a deeper layer of significance. If you look carefully at the wording of all the prayers in the Amidah (the focal point of the daily service), you will find that they are in the plural; we are not simply requesting for ourselves, but for all of klal Yisrael. This raises our focus to a higher level and creates a much bigger picture. It opens our hearts much wider whenever we pray, for we not only focus on our own individual needs, we force ourselves to be constantly aware of the needs of the entire Jewish people.
This is the deeper meaning of the Sh’ma, which is not actually a prayer per se, rather an affirmation of our belief in G-d. This proclamation begins with the words “Sh’ma Yisrael,” “listen Israel,” which means that we accept G-d’s Oneness not as individuals but as part of klal Yisrael. The custom is to cover one’s eyes when reciting the Sh’ma, for concentration. One rabbi, however (R’ Moshe Scherer ob”m), used to explain that when one’s eyes are open they can see only the Jews in the shul. When one’s eyes are covered, however, they can see all the Jews in the world!
Lastly, if there’s an interest among the readers to create a new, in-depth class to understand the prayers, I will make sure it happens. Just e-mail me and let me know!
Rabbi Yerachmiel D. Fried, noted scholar and author of numerous works on Jewish law, philosophy and Talmud, is founder and dean of DATA, the Dallas Kollel. Questions can be sent to him at yfried@sbcglobal.net.
Posted on July 1, 2010 - by admin
Shalom From the Shabbat Lady
By Laura Seymour
Dear Families.
Being in nature is the perfect opportunity to give thanks to G-d for the world. In the Amidah prayer, the text says: “We thank You, G-d … for our lives, which depend upon your hand, and for your miracles and your goodness, which are with us at every moment: evening, morning and noon.” Giving thanks after each day is like a religious way of “debriefing” after an experience. The first step is to think quietly about all the things that you are thankful for and then begin with this prayer:
“Modim anahnu lach, sha’atah hu Adonai Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu…”
“We thank you, Adonai, our G-d, and G-d of our fathers and our mothers…”
Now add up all the things you have thought of to be thankful for. Remember, you don’t have to have really big things; there are so many little things that we forget to be thankful for. Let each family member add to the list each day.
Now we end with the traditional prayer:
“…al hayeinu ha’m’surim b’yadecha v’al nishmoteinu ha’p’kudot lach v’al nisecha sheb’chol-yom imanu v’al niflotecha v’tovotecha sheb’chol-et, erev vavoker v’tzohorayim.”
“…and for our lives, which depend upon your hand, and for your miracles and your goodness, which are with us at every moment: evening, morning and noon.”
When families get together, everyone has something important to say and all should listen. It helps to follow the ground rules of “Moses’ staff.” To convince the Israelites that Moses was the leader to follow, G-d gave Moses a magical staff. Create your own staff and follow this procedure for talking and sharing — it is a great activity for the dinner table each night:
•Only the person holding “Moses’ staff” (stick, ball, pillow, whatever) may talk.
•All others must listen.
•Everyone has the right to pass and not talk.
•All must show respect to the one speaking.
•What is said in the family (group) is confidential.
This idea was taken from the book “Spirit in Nature: Teaching Judaism and Ecology on the Trail” by Matt Biers-Ariel, Deborah Newbrun and Michal Fox Smart. Try new experiences each week this summer.
Laura Seymour is director of camping services and Jewish life and learning at the Jewish Community Center of Dallas.
Posted on June 25, 2010 - by admin
In My Mind’s I
By Harriet P. Gross
Déjà vu all over again — the recent Solidarity Rally for Israel that drew a crowd, probably numbering 1,000, to Anshai Torah in Plano, where Rabbi Stefan Weinberg quipped about this being a test of congregational parking facilities in advance of the High Holy Days before giving an impassioned, accurate, effective assessment of what’s going on today, what all Jews are facing.
”I wish we didn’t have to be here,” he said. “But Israel needs us. And we need each other.”
Greater Dallas’ Jewish Federation and its Jewish Community Relations Council sponsored this massive event, along with the local Rabbinic Association and the support and participation of many cooperating organizations. For those of us old enough to have attended them, its size evoked those unforgettable rallies that took place everywhere Jews could gather at the times of the Six-Day War (June 5–10, 1967) and the Yom Kippur War (Oct. 6, 1973). But this time, nobody asked for money. Spirit was being sought here.
JCRC Chair Stephanie Hirsh set the tone in her introduction, drawing applause when she stressed that we American Jews never waver in our support of what Israel is, even though we may not agree with everything it does. Chair-elect Jeff Rasansky continued in the same vein: We were uniting in a pledge for Israel’s security and survival.
Nobody has to be Jewish to support Israel. Alice Murray, president and CEO of the Dallas Holocaust Museum/Center for Education and Tolerance, reminded us that more than 90 percent of the thousands who come to learn are not Jews. “We are teaching for all humanity,” she said. “‘Upstanders’ stand up for the state of Israel.” Ana Cristina Reymundo of American Airlines said “When we go outside, the sun shines on all of us, so we must stand up for the rights of all people.”
Community Rabbi Howard Wolk led in prayer; Cantor Itzhak Zhrebker led us in song. Dr. Zev Shulkin led us forward with powerful words on what he terms “anti-Semitism disguised as anti-Zionism”; he told of recent pro-Hamas rallies not only on college campuses across the country, but in downtown Dallas itself. Members of the rabid Westboro Baptist Church of Kansas will be coming to our city on July 9 to picket our Jewish institutions. “Do not dismiss these protests as extreme,” he warned us. “We are asking for help. We cannot win this war alone!”
The JCRC provided comprehensive handouts on how all of us can make meaningful contact with the media and our elected officials in high places. I’ve done so already. Have you? Will you? Please do! Let me know if you need the how-to information; I’ll be happy to send it on to you.
It was wonderful to look over that sea of attendees and see men and women; children of all ages; people in wheelchairs, canes and walkers; kippot and bare male heads together; women modestly hatted next to those wearing form-hugging jeans. At the door: Susie Avnery, chair of JCRC’s Israel/International Commission, handed out Israeli flags that were waved jauntily throughout. How could you miss Diane Benjamin, with her cowboy hat and huge, eye-catching sign proclaiming the special solidarity of Texas with Israel? Also spotted in the crowd: present and past Federation executives Gary Weinstein and Moe Stein; City Councilwoman Ann Margolin; Posy McMillen, a devout Christian and a devout supporter of Israel, who came from Fort Worth to add her welcome presence. The day’s message was loud and clear: We love Israel, and pledge our allegiance to it — as we did when we stood for both the “Star-Spangled Banner” and “Hatikvah.”
The day before this rally, I was in Plano for the North Texas Komen Race for the Cure. As if to affirm that life and life-giving efforts go on in Israel without a break, despite flotillas and fanatics, I’ve received word that the first such Israeli race is scheduled for Jerusalem on Oct. 28 of this year. It will be held just outside the Old City walls, culminating a full week of awareness-raising about the world’s breast cancer crisis.
Actually, Komen for the Cure has been active in Israel since 1994, already contributing $2 million toward vital research. Now, people from everywhere, of all nations, cultures and faiths, are being invited to race in this new venue. Wouldn’t 2010 be a good year, and a special time, to show double solidarity — by racing to, and in, Israel?
E-mail: harrietg@texasjewishpost.com
