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November 30, 2007

Photo essay: Iranian Jews breaking taboo and supporting Etta Israel

Last night, more than 500 affluent Iranian American Jews from the Los Angeles area gathered for a night of festivities at the elegant Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Beverly Hills for fundraising on behalf of the Etta Israel organization. This was not just another glamorous fundraising event for local Iranian Jews, but a historical night for the community at large which for centuries had considered publicly displaying children with mental and learning disabilities as taboo.

Etta Israel is local community based non-profit organization dedicated to helping children with special needs including those with Autism, Down’s syndrome, Dyslexia and other forms of mental retardation. In 1997, local Iranian Jewish social worker and volunteer Manijeh Nehorai introduced Etta Israel and the need for support to children with special needs to the local Iranian Jewish community. At a time when many families in the community with mentally disabled children would hide their special needs children away from the public, Nehorai was brave enough to tackle this taboo and educate these families that there was help available for their children. “Many in our community unfortunately kept these children in the closet because they were afraid of people judging them,” she said. “But today as we can see, when these children come into the community they can have better lives”. The taboo of not exposing their mentally disabled children in public also stems from the fact that a substantial number of Iranian Jewish families feared that they would jepoardize their other children’s chances of finding spouses from within the community.

While the taboo has not totally been lifted, the fact that such a large contingency of Iranian Jews in the Southern California area came out to support this cause speaks volumes about how the community’s views about these special needs children has transformed in recent years. Moreover, Nehorai said the contributions from the Iranian Jewish community to Etta Israel has enabled the group to provide homes and Jewish activities for local young adults with special needs. Those interested in becoming involved with Etta Israel are asked to visit: www.etta.org

The following are just some of the sights from the evening I captured:

(left ot right: Photographer Shelly Gazin and Iranian American Jewish Federation Secretary General, Sam Kermanian, photo by Karmel Melamed)

(Manijeh Nehorai, Etta Israel’s Iranian Chapter founder, photo by Karmel Melamed)

(Iranian Jewish businessman and philanthropist Ezri Namvar)

(Special needs children dancing the night away)

(Iranian Jewish businessman and philanthropist, Noorollah Gabai)

(Odd looking “Shofar Tree”)

(Mistress of Ceremonies, Mojgan Haloossim)

(Dancers brought to entertain the evening’s guests)

(Lobby of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Beverly Hills)

(Exterior of Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Beverly Hills)

Photo essay: Iranian Jews breaking taboo and supporting Etta Israel Read More »

Will Annapolis momentum spur a regional thaw?

Ehud Olmert and Mahmoud Abbas may have bridged the necessary gaps to issue a joint commitment to pursue peace, but their words in Annapolis revealed the substantial distance they have yet to travel.

President Bush announced the hoped-for agreement early in the day on Tuesday, saying the Israeli and Palestinian leaders had jointly pledged to endeavor to achieve peace by the end of 2008 under close U.S. supervision.

But the gaps at the U.S.-convened talks Tuesday in Annapolis, Md., were manifest in the precedents each side cited in their speeches.

Abbas, the Palestinian Authority president, said a peace agreement must be consistent with Resolution 194, the 1949 U.N. measure that called for a return of Palestinian refugees to their homes in the then-newly established Israel.

Israeli Prime Minister Olmert said the agreement would be based in part on Bush’s April 2004 letter to then-Prime Minister Ariel Sharon — a document that rejected any such return of refugees.

The two speeches differed in tone, as well. Olmert, while adamant in defending Israel’s right to security, was expansive toward the Palestinians, including the refugees and their descendants. Abbas, by contrast, acknowledged his obligation to combat terrorism in defensive, almost defiant terms.

Notably, Olmert’s speech marked the first time Israel formally committed to helping solve the Palestinian refugee problem and, extraordinarily, went so far as to implicitly acknowledge Palestinian suffering as a cause of terrorism.

“For dozens of years, many Palestinians have been living in camps, disconnected from the environment in which they grew, wallowing in poverty, neglect, alienation, bitterness and a deep, unrelenting sense of deprivation,” he said. “I know that this deprivation is one of the deepest foundations, which fomented the ethos of hatred towards us. We are not indifferent to this suffering. We are not oblivious to the tragedies you have experienced.”

Yet, while the Annapolis conference was meant to focus on Israeli-Palestinian peacemaking, the attendance of Syria and Saudi Arabia also has raised questions about the prospects for peace between Israel and the wider Arab world.

Syria came up because, contrary to expectations, Damascus sent a delegate to Annapolis to talk about trading peace for the Golan Heights. And the attendance at Annapolis of all 22 Arab League member countries, led by the influential Saudis, suggested that normalization of ties between Israel and the Arab world could be in the cards.

Israeli experts are divided over the prospects of reaching peace with Syria.

Some insist Damascus will never break with its Shi’ite sponsors in Tehran, which is a key condition for progress. Others argue there is a greater chance of achieving peace with the Syrians than with the Palestinians.

As for accommodation with the Arab world, the broad consensus is that peace with the Palestinians must come first.

Nevertheless, the fact that both the Syrians and Saudis came to Annapolis — Syria sent Deputy Foreign Minister Fayssal Mekdad and Saudi Arabia sent Foreign Minister Saud al-Faisal — had immediate ramifications in the Middle East.

Their attendance demonstrated America’s ability to mobilize Arab moderates and underscored the growing isolation of Iran and its terrorist allies.

Whether or not Annapolis brings progress or not, it is already causing considerable alarm in Iran.

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad made angry phone calls to Assad and Saudi King Abdullah urging them not to cooperate with the United States and Israel against Iran.

Iranian state media outlets were more blunt, warning that any Arab country that provides logistic help for a U.S. strike against Iran will be a legitimate target for Iranian retaliation.

Saudi policy has been driven for some time by the Iranian threat. The Saudis, who are Sunni Muslims, are terrified at the prospect of an Iranian move against their oil reserves or Iranian-sponsored terrorism destabilizing their kingdom. However, that does not mean the Saudis will push for wholesale normalization of ties with Israel, the regional counterpoint to Shi’ite-ruled Iran.

For the past several years, the Saudis have been key players in regional diplomacy. They fashioned the peace initiative adopted by the Arab League in 2002, a rough outline that proposed normalization of ties between Israel and the Arab world in exchange for a full Israeli retreat to the pre-1967 borders.

The Saudis also mediated the now defunct power-sharing agreement in February between the moderate Palestinian Fatah faction headed by Abbas and the terrorist Hamas group.

But in both these cases, the Saudis’ aim was to help create Arab consensus and enhance ties with the United States as hedges against Iranian aggression, not to move toward normalization with Israel, said Saudi expert Joseph Kostiner of Tel Aviv University’s Dayan Center for Middle Eastern Studies.

“Although the Saudis have a shared interest with Israel in curbing Iranian power, any contacts the two countries have on this will remain secret, precisely because the Saudis won’t jump the gun on normalization,” Kostiner told JTA.

Until Annapolis, only secret talks were held.

In September 2006, Olmert met covertly in Jordan with Saudi Arabia’s national security chief, Prince Bandar, presumably to discuss the Iranian threat. This encounter reportedly was followed by a string of lower-level secret contacts.

But there has been no sign of normalization.

On the contrary, in the run-up to Annapolis, al-Faisal declared there would not be so much as a handshake with Israeli leaders at the conference — so as not to give the Israelis “free normalization.”

Israeli Foreign Minister Tzipi Livni argues for linkage between progress on the Palestinian front and normalization with the Arab world. In other words, every concession Israel makes to the Palestinians should be followed with an Arab gesture of normalization toward Israel.

This, she argues, would give Israel added incentive to move ahead.

But the Saudi message at Annapolis was clear: Normalization would not be an engine to drive the Israeli-Palestinian process. On the contrary, only the resolution of the core conflict would create conditions for normalization.

Still, there have been tacit understandings between Israel and the Saudis. For example, Israel raised no official objections to the U.S. plan to supply the Saudis with $20 billion worth of sophisticated weaponry over the coming decade. This was predicated on the understanding that the weapons were necessary for deterring Iranian aggression.

Will Annapolis momentum spur a regional thaw? Read More »

‘Tent’ meeting showcases new spirit of synagogues

A crowd of 4,500 gathered recently at the ornate Fox Theater in Atlanta for a celebration of Jewish spirit and synagogue life that can accurately be described as a Jewish tent meeting.

“Hallelu Atlanta” was an extraordinary moment in the history of one of the fastest-growing Jewish communities in North America. The afternoon gathering held significance, meaning and purpose far beyond what may have appeared to be simply a concert featuring a who’s who of Jewish music.

One of the greatest cantors of our generation, Alberto Mizrahi, opened the program with a Sephardic version of “L’cha Dodi” and a Yiddish lullaby. Theodore Bikel, a sprightly 80-something, transfixed the crowd with his set, while a 20-something Joshua Nelson led a 200-voice community youth choir in a song about the Jewish future.

Actress Mare Winningham stunned the crowd when she shared the tradition’s teaching that all converts to Judaism are to be considered as if they, too, were present at Sinai, as she launched into a country music “Convert’s Jig.”

Nelson, a third-generation black Jew from New Jersey who teaches Hebrew school when not performing, sang a gospel-infused “Adon Olam” that raised the roof. Neshama Carlebach channeled the legacy of her late father, Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach.

Rounding out the roster were Debbie Friedman and Craig Taubman, perhaps the two most influential composers of contemporary Jewish music. Taubman, the producer, assembled an array of talent reflecting the diversity of age, gender, race and background of the audience, itself a mirror of the current demography of the American Jewish community.

So what?

It was the purpose of the event that made the difference between a Jewish hootenanny and a celebration of synagogue and spirit. It was the culmination of a yearlong series of Synagogue 3000 workshops on membership outreach and inreach for the clergy and lay leadership teams of 20 Atlanta-area congregations from across the denominations.

Virtually all 4,500 tickets were sold exclusively in blocks of seats by the congregations themselves to enable synagogue members to sit together, much like a political convention. This created a “community of communities” in the hall.

The transliterated words of all the songs were projected onto a huge screen to facilitate the “congregation” to sing along. The themes of the songs — “From Generation to Generation,” “Return Again, “Sing a New Song” and “One People” — were carefully chosen.

A live blogger, Yo Yenta (www.yoyenta.com) documented her reactions to what was transpiring on the stage. A tribute to Yitzhak Rabin on the anniversary of his assassination, which included the singing of “Hatikvah,” left many in tears.

Videos of congregants sharing their often hilarious reflections on synagogue life tickled the audience of mostly synagogue members.

The climax was the honoring of professionals who serve synagogues and the blessing of those who support synagogues, led by the combined choirs of the Atlanta congregations and their cantors and soloists.

Certainly, when 4,500 Jews experience something together, there are bound to be at least that many opinions about what happened. Some complained about their seats; others worried about security. One critic thought there was too much “1980s music,” while some wanted more nostalgia. Others could not believe that the artists sang only two songs, when each could easily carry a full concert.

They didn’t get it.

But many of the leaders of the community did. They stood among the core memberships of Atlanta synagogues who had assembled to celebrate the joy of being Jewish — not to commemorate past tragedies, not to debate why our numbers are declining, not to evaluate responses to a crisis, not to demonstrate for a cause, but to celebrate.

They witnessed hundreds of children and adults from individual choirs join their voices in a communal choir. They gathered in a popular and venerated public venue, not in a sanctuary. They brought their friends and prospective new members to witness the new spirit that animates many synagogues today.

They left the event elated, uplifted, honored and energized to continue the important work of transforming our synagogues into sacred communities of spirituality, committed to deepening the relationships between the members and their congregations and between each individual and God.

“The workshops and ‘Hallelu Atlanta’ celebration were truly a gift to our community,” said Mark Jacobson, executive director of The Temple. “Moreover, the project has challenged and stimulated a conversation at all levels of communal leadership about how to sustain the ‘Hallelu’ spirit in the synagogues and community.”

Something else is at work here. In our study of the evangelical megachurches, we have observed the power of large-scale gatherings. While a congregation, such as Saddleback Church in Orange County, holds six religious services on the weekend — attracting 5,000 people at each — our congregations rarely have more than several-hundred people at a service.

The exception, of course, is the High Holy Days, when we offer many hours of worship to large crowds. Even then, we hardly ever sit together in one “tent,” experiencing the thrill of feeling part of a larger community of communities.

I commend the synagogue leadership in Atlanta for having the courage and vision to create a more welcoming community. And for those communal leaders and funders who ask why we cannot develop ways to emphasize the joys of Judaism, the meaning and value of community engagement and the new spirit animating those congregations who are working hard at becoming welcoming sacred communities, the experience in Atlanta is worthy of consideration and emulation.

Dr. Ron Wolfson is president of Synagogue 3000, a national institute for congregational leadership and synagogue studies research. He is the best-selling author of “The Spirituality of Welcoming: How to Transform Your Congregation Into a Sacred Community” and “God’s To-Do List” (Jewish Lights Publishing).

‘Tent’ meeting showcases new spirit of synagogues Read More »

Generation Next — a new vision for the Jewish future

This speech, by writer/editor/blogger Esther D. Kustanowitz, was delivered at the 2007 General Assembly convened in Nashville by United Jewish Communities as part of the “Next Generation” plenary. At the plenary, a range of young Jewish and Israeli activists, bloggers, an Oscar-winning filmmaker and others described their visions of community building and the power of the collective.

When I moved to New York in 1994, my community centered around my friends from Camp Ramah and the people I met in synagogue. We used e-mail, but mostly we relied on an ancient device known as “the telephone.” A few of us were experimenting with some new-fangled thing called “Instant Messaging.”

Today, you can forward an e-mail, a Web site or a YouTube video to hundreds of people, creating a network based on a shared experience or affiliation. The Jewish world has always operated that way — the community mobilizes to address an issue or to fill a need.

Today’s technology has altered the modes and frequency of connection, and today’s Jewish 20- and 30-somethings, perceiving gaping holes in the community’s agenda, are seeking each other out using the full power of technology. Web sites, blogs and social networking sites are thriving. It’s a grass-roots uprising.

There is a lot of concern over the development of this kind of vast online community network, largely because of the generational technology divide. But what’s clear is that Federation professionals, volunteers, donors, and publications that want to stay relevant to “Generation Tech” need to significantly increase their techno-literacy.

People also perceive the emergence of online life as a threat to in-person relationships and connections. But our online world does not replace our offline life. Expanding our personal and professional connections; cross-pollinating our projects with others, our initiatives emerge strengthened and energized, and new ideas keep us active and inspired, on- and offline.

Today, the “social” in social action, social entrepreneurship and social networking enables everything else. The power of the collective — not of one organization or charismatic leader — enables change. The collective transforms one idea into something more valuable.

Facebook, for example, had a simple concept: to create a Web site that replaced the traditional college “face book,” the directory of new students. The company, recognizing that the product could probably use a few tweaks, encouraged the users’ input. Call it a different kind of tikkun olam: Facebook users fixing the world of Facebook.

A friend recently remarked that Jews, particularly, are in love with Facebook-wondering who their friends know and which of their friends’ friends they’re already friends with. This is because this activity is a new, easy-to-read iteration of our favorite pastime: Jewish geography. (“You know David from camp? I went to college with David!”)

Jews, living in dispersed locations for thousands of years, have learned how to harness the power of the network as a survival instinct. You need a place for Shabbat? Or an in with David’s cousin Murray, the hotshot lawyer? Or maybe, you’ve got a nephew who’s just perfect for me or some other Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel or Leah? Jewish geography. The friend (or relative) of my friend (or relative) is my friend. Or a relative.

This is the power of the network. As Jews create communities online, large and small, political and social, community becomes more true to the word itself: call out the obvious “unity” at the end of the word, and you’re left with “comm,” which I like to think stands for “comm” communication and commitment. This enigmatic “new generation” is not any less committed than the previous one; we’re just communicating that commitment differently. And to be relevant to the new media generation, old-school organizations have to embrace new modes of communication and new models of commitment.

When I was asked to do this session, I was curious how many of us “new generation” types were on Facebook and attending the GA, so I formed an online group — “Going to the GA in Nashville and Under 45” — today, there are over 140 members.

My generation is not emotionally tied to the traditional structures that served as their parents’ main connection to Jewish community, because we don’t have to be. We are creating our own online and offline publications, initiatives and minyanim, in reaction to having examined what does exist and finding that it doesn’t fill our needs. For example, I’m on dozens of mailing lists and read about 50 blogs a day. I read lots offline too, but most of the programs and events I find out about through Facebook, blogs, e-newsletters, or e-mail. I can’t tell you the last time I attended an event that didn’t have a Facebook profile.

Online, I’ve become involved in opportunities I never would have known about otherwise. I am a team member for the Jewlicious Festivals, an celebration of all things Jewish attended by hundreds of college students each year. I’m involved in the ROI Global Summit for Jewish Innovators, an annual Jerusalem gathering of 120 Jewish leaders in my age cohort from around the world. And through my involvement in PresenTense Magazine, a content-laden magazine for Jewish 20- and 30-somethings, I’ve also been able to experience a broad swath of Jewish life in the here and now. I’ve also experienced new permutations of Zionism, through this summer’s PresenTense Institute for Creative Zionism.

Today’s Jews in my generation aren’t connecting to Federation the way our parents did. And I know this relationship, or lack thereof, troubles you. So view yourselves through our eyes. Are there campaigns, events or initiatives in your community that do draw participation from our age cohort?

Our generation lives generously, but gives differently: in measure, in method and in means. We need to feel the return on our investments — of both time and money — in our hearts and souls. And for those of us who are single or not parents, the community needs to expand the definition of commitment beyond Hebrew school tuition: just because some of us aren’t engaged to be married doesn’t mean we’re not engaged in pursuing a Jewish life.

Because our ideas, our commitment and our initiatives begin online and bleed into real life, Jewish organizations that seek new, younger members must commit to it not only in mission, but in action, supporting and forming partnerships with younger, innovative initiatives, not hoping to subsume them, but to work together with them.

By managing these kinds of creative partnerships effectively, and mobilizing our global Jewish social network, we will forge a future that is strong, vital, and a source of creative inspiration.

Generation Next — a new vision for the Jewish future Read More »

Eight ways to help heal the earth on Chanukah

There are three levels of wisdom through which Chanukah invites us to address the planetary dangers of the global climate crisis — what some of us call “global scorching,” because “warming” seems so pleasant, so comforting.

We can encode these three teachings into actions we take to heal the earth each of the eight days.

1) The Talmud’s legend that for the Maccabees to rededicate the Temple desecrated by the Seleucid Empire, it took only one day’s oil to meet eight days’ needs: A reminder that if we have the courage to change our lifestyles to conserve energy, it will sustain us.

2) The vision of the prophet Zechariah, whose visionary passages are read on Shabbat Chanukah, that the Temple menorah was itself a living being, uniting the world of nature and humanity — for it was not only fashioned by human hands in the shape of a tree of light, as Torah teaches, but was flanked by two olive trees that fed olive oil directly into it. What better symbol of how intertwined we are with the wounded earth that sustains us?

3) The memory that a community of the powerless, led by people as determined as the Maccabees, can overcome a great empire, giving us courage to face our modern corporate empires of oil and coal when they defile our most sacred temple — Earth itself. And the reminder, again from Zechariah that we triumph “not by might and not by power but by My Spirit [in Hebrew, b’ruchi, or “My breath,” “My wind”], says YHWH, the Infinite Breath of Life.”

We are taught not only to light the menorah but to publicize the miracle, to turn our individual actions outward for the rest of the world to see and be inspired by.

So this Chanukah might be just the moment to join in The Shalom Center’s Green Menorah Covenant for taking action — personal, communal and political — to heal the earth from the global climate crisis.

After lighting your menorah each evening, dedicate yourself to making the changes in your life that will allow our limited sources of energy to last for as long as they are needed and with minimal impact on our climate.

No single action will solve the global climate crisis, just as no one of us alone can make enough of a difference.

Yet, if we act on as many of the areas below as possible and act together, a seemingly small group of people can overcome a seemingly intractable crisis. We can, as in days of old, turn this time of darkness into one of light.

Day 1 — Personal/household: Call your electric power utility to switch to wind-powered electricity. (For each home, 100 percent wind power reduces carbon dioxide emissions the same as not driving 20,000 miles in one year.)

Day 2 — Synagogue, Hillel or JCC: Urge your congregation or community building to switch to wind-powered electricity.

Day 3 — Your network of friends: Instant message buddies and members of civic or professional groups to which you belong and ask them to connect with people like newspaper editors, real estate developers, architects, bankers, etc. to urge them to strengthen the green factor in all their decisions, speeches and actions.

Day 4 — (Which this year is Shabbat) Automobile: If possible, choose today or one other day a week to not use your car. Other days, lessen driving. Shop online. Cluster errands. Carpool. Don’t idle a car engine beyond 20 seconds.

Day 5 — Workplace or college: Urge the top officials to arrange an energy audit. Check with the utility company about getting one free or at low cost.

Day 6 — Town/city: Urge town/city officials to require greening of buildings through ordinances and executive orders. Creating change is often easier on the local level.

Day 7 — State: Urge state representatives to reduce subsidies for highways and increase them for mass transit.

Day 8 — National: Urge your senators to strengthen and pass the Lieberman-Warner America’s Climate Security Act.

Give our planet a Happy Chanukah!

Rabbi Arthur Waskow is director of The Shalom Center, the author of books on “down-to-earth Judaism” and a frequent speaker at Jewish institutions. Rabbi Jeff Sultar is director of The Shalom Center’s Green Menorah Covenant. For more information on the covenant, contact Sultar at greenmenorah@shalomctr.org.

For an easy letter to send your senators, visit Eight ways to help heal the earth on Chanukah Read More »

Funny and frum

On a recent evening at a private home in Beverlywood, a group of Orthodox Jews listened to Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa talk about issues liketerrorism, crime prevention, anti-Semitism, a vision for the city for the next century, fixing LAX and so on. People asked questions, debates followed, the mood was serious and intense.

Then, at a moment of high intensity, a quiet, unassuming man in his early 50s who hadn’t said a word all night got up, and with the crowd suddenly hushed, asked: “Mr. Mayor, is it illegal to park when the parking meter’s broken?”

It brought down the house.

The man himself didn’t crack a smile. He was dead serious about his question.

Of course, if you know Mark Schiff, you know he’s a master of self-control. He rarely laughs. He would much rather see you laugh — especially when he’s performing.

Schiff is a rare bird. He’s made a living as a stand-up comic for more than 30 years and is much admired in the fraternity of American comedians. For years, he’s been performing on the road with Jerry Seinfeld (one of his closest friends). Last year, his book, “I Killed,” a compilation of stories of the road from the country’s top comedians, got a glowing review on that most exclusive of book review stages, the Sunday New York Times.

But swing by my neighborhood at around midday on any Shabbat, and chances are you’ll see another Mark Schiff. This is the Orthodox Schiff, who is quietly walking back from synagogue with his wife, Nancy, and one or more of his three sons — part of the procession of observant Jews who grace the streets of our neighborhood during Shabbat.

Over a vegetarian lunch and herbal tea the other day, Schiff was recalling the very beginnings of his comedic and religious influences. As I understood it, he was influenced by “two rebbes”: Rodney Dangerfield and Rabbi Nachum Braverman.

When he was 12, his parents took him to see singer Al Martino at a nightclub in New York, and a young Dangerfield was the opening act. He saw the “physicality” of the act — the unique voice, the disarming honesty, the simplicity of one man in a black suit and red tie making hundreds of people weep with laughter — and he got hooked.

Almost 20 years later, after he had moved to Los Angeles to further his comedy career, a friend took him to a little house in Pico-Robertson to hear “this new rabbi.” Again, he saw a man in a black suit, with a unique voice and a disarming honesty, moving his audience. And again he got hooked. Only this time, instead of being moved by a self-deprecating “I tell you I get no respect” routine, he was moved by Rabbi Braverman’s “learn to discover and respect your Judaism” routine.

It was the beginning of a new life, but certainly not the end of an old one.

One thing I love about Schiff is he doesn’t pretend there’s no conflict between the two sides of his life — between the innate irreverence of comedy and the innate reverence of religion. He gets it. In comedy, you’re supposed to make fun of everything, while in religion, you are commanded to take things seriously. Religion teaches you how to count your blessings; in comedy, you kill if you know how to count (and recount) your kvetches. Comedy wants to touch you in the moment, while religion wants to move you for all moments.

The struggle of Schiff’s life has been to make these opposite worlds peacefully co-exist.

To look at him, it’s easy to see how he pulls it off. For one thing, he’s blessed with a very non-Jewish character trait: He hates drama. Just look at his face. He could be a yoga instructor. It’s the face of a craftsman, of a really good listener, someone who will not rush impulsively into anything (but who can still pounce on you at the right moment with a line like, “Humor was so clean in the old days they called it ‘Hoover Darn'”).

Schiff manages the contradictions between his two worlds by listening carefully to both.

That means he understands boundaries. He might do a slightly off-color routine at the Comedy Store on Sunset Boulevard and then clean up his act the next night in front of 500 people at a Jewish fundraiser in St. Louis. He knows, for example, that elderly Jews will laugh at racier material if it’s kept in the context of marital relationships — and to never, God forbid, use the term “girlfriend” with that crowd.

One thing that’s always been difficult to reconcile is the fact that Friday night is a big night for comedy, but it’s also the biggest night for observant Jews to stay home with their families. For many years while he was on the road, he tried to find “kosher ways” around that, but now he’s always home for Shabbat. Schiff doesn’t deny that not working Friday nights has hurt his career, but he sees it as a worthy sacrifice to live in two worlds that he deeply loves.

Conflict aside, he’s always felt a certain kinship between his different worlds, like, for example, a reverence for the heroes of the past. You hear him talk about his comedic ancestors, people like Milton Berle, Jack Benny, Sid Caesar and many others, and he might as well be speaking about Torah giants like Rav Soloveitchik and Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and their contributions to the Modern Orthodox world to which he belongs.

In the end, though, perhaps what turns him on the most about his two worlds is that they both seek the same thing — a sense of truth. He knows that rabbis and comedians are at their best when they uncover truths that people will intuitively embrace.

Like, for example, asking the mayor of Los Angeles whether you’re allowed to park your car if a parking meter’s broken.

To this day, he still wonders why, after all the laughing had died down, no one could give him a darn straight answer.

David Suissa, an advertising executive, is founder of OLAM magazine and Meals4Israel.com. He can be reached at dsuissa@olam.org.

Funny and frum Read More »

Annapolis and Chanukah

How fitting that just as the Annapolis Middle East summit ends, Chanukah begins.

That’s not because Chanukah is the Festival of Lights, and Annapolis will usher in an era of peace and light unto all nations. I’m writing this just as the summit is beginning, and I have no way of knowing how it will turn out — and no reason in the world to be even mildly optimistic.

But the timing makes sense because of what Chanukah teaches us about a particular genius of the Jews: We may not be perfect, but we do know how to focus on what’s important.

Take Chanukah. The holiday that begins this year at sundown on Dec. 4 celebrates many things: the rededication of the Temple in Jerusalem after its desecration by the forces of King Antiochus IV in 165 B.C.E.; the “miracle of the oil,” when oil enough to burn for one day burned for eight; the triumph of Judaism’s spiritual values over Hellenistic civilization; the freedom over tyranny and oppression, when a small band of Jewish warriors, the Maccabees, defeated a king who banned Jewish religious practices and forced Greek religious symbols into the Second Temple.

But note how we mark the holiday: not with some reenactment of the battles of the brothers Maccabee, who led the rebellion of the few Jews against the many Greeks.

We light candles. We focus on the rededication of the Temple, the triumph of light — the symbol of learning and Torah — over darkness. Oil that lasted eight days invokes the miracle, against all odds, of our own survival.

There was good reason to focus on the oil, to, as it were, go toward the light. The Maccabee revolt — in which zealous Jews fought against more assimilated Jews — led to the Hasmonean dynasty, which eventually devolved into a series of brutal civil wars among Jews. Chanukah and latkes and dreidels are beautiful; the actual history, not so much.

So we changed the focus of Chanukah from history to story, from reality to metaphor.

That process is, to a great extent, what any peace process will demand of us.

Whatever will have happened — or didn’t — at the summit by the time this newspaper hits the streets, there can be no mistaking what is on the table: Israel’s control over the Golan Heights, the West Bank and over all of Jerusalem.

If Annapolis does what President Bush said on Monday it was designed to do — lead the parties in the Middle East conflict toward final status talks on these issues — and if the Palestinians and Arab states can deliver on their promises — two huge ifs — then once again Jews will be faced with the hard task of letting go of the actual and focusing on the spiritual.

For Jews especially, this painful process is evident in the debate over the future of Jerusalem. That debate flared up in these pages last month, when Rabbi Yosef Kanefsky broke with most of his colleagues and quite bravely suggested that the Israeli government is entitled to determine the future of land its soldiers fought and died on.

Prior to the summit, an ad hoc assembly of Jewish organizations, including the Orthodox Union, publicly asserted that no Israeli leadership had the right to negotiate away parts of Jerusalem. Their demand brought a quick rebuke from Prime Minister Ehud Olmert, who reminded them that Israel is a sovereign nation.

All this is prelude to one inescapable fact: If Annapolis is the beginning, and not the end, the physical and political status of Jerusalem is destined to change.

The worst-case scenario is the city splits and becomes divided and torn as it was prior to 1968. The best-case scenario is the adversaries find a way to share a beautiful speck of earth that means so much to so many. Either way, we need to be prepared for a time when all of Jerusalem is not all Israel’s.

And this is where Chanukah fits in.

The holiday that refocuses us from the actual to the metaphorical, from real blood to unreal oil, can remind us that we Jews are good at shuttling, when need be, from the concrete to the spiritual, from real estate to metaphor, from sovereign Jerusalem to a city made holy by compromise and coexistence between foes. Many of us are willing to let half of Jerusalem go so that the idea of Jerusalem can be saved. Many of us believe that to elevate land over the needs, values and spirit of the people who actually live there is the antithesis of holy.

“Religion as an institution, the Temple as an ultimate end, or, in other words, religion for religion’s sake, is idolatry,” Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote many years ago. “The fact is that evil is integral to religion, not only to secularism. Parochial saintliness may be an evasion of duty, an accommodation to selfishness.”

On Chanukah, we are tasked to find meaning in an ancient victory. Looked at one way, it led to a free enlightened people. Looked at another, it led to civil war. Our choice.

Happy Chanukah.

Annapolis and Chanukah Read More »

Only a few left-coasters make ‘Forward 50’

Best-of lists are often in the eyes of the beholder. Last year, when Newsweek published America’s 50 most influential rabbis, Simon Wiesenthal’s Rabbi Marvin Hier was number one, with 10 other local rabbis on the list. Go figure — since the list was the brainchild of Angelenos Jay Sanderson, CEO of Jewish TV Network; Michael Lynton, chairman and CEO of Sony; and Gary Ginsberg, an executive at News Corp.

So it should be no surprise that when the New York-based, albeit national, newspaper, The Forward, published its Forward 50 — naming its version of this year’s most influential Jews — only six hail from Los Angeles. Does it matter where they’re from?

“This year’s Forward 50 list shows what look to us, at least, like clear signs of continental drift. When we sat down to take a long look at the community, what we found was not a hardening core surrounded by an evanescent periphery, but numerous pockets of identity taking shape on the landscape, most showing clear signs of solidity, but most quite disconnected from — even unaware of — the others,” they write on the Forward’s Web site.

The six Angelenos are:

Rep. Henry Waxman (D-Los Angeles)
Waxman, 68, represents a broad swath of western Los Angeles County, from Chatsworth to the Fairfax District. This year he became chairman of the Committee on Oversight and Government Reform, the principal investigative committee in the House, on which he has served since 1997. He is also a member of the Committee on Energy and Commerce.

Jimmy Jamshid Delshad
The top Iranian-American public official, Delshad, 67, became mayor of Beverly Hills in March after service first as a City Councilman and then vice mayor of the city.

Roz Rothstein (co-listed with Charles Jacobs).
Rothstein, 55, is national director of the Los Angeles-based StandWithUs.

Boruch Shlomo Cunin
Director of the West Coast Chabad-Lubavitch, Cunin, 67, has been California’s top Chabad leader since 1965.

Laura Geller
Synagogue greening and female rabbi “trailblazer,” Geller, 57, has been senior rabbi of Temple Emanuel in Beverly Hills for 13 years.

Robert Wexler
In March, Wexler, 56, oversaw the merger of the University of Judaism with the Brandeis-Bardin Institute, creating the new American Jewish University. During his tenure as AJU president, he has increased the student population to 10,000 and grown the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies.

To read more about Newsweek’s list, visit http://www.jewishjournal.com/home/preview.php?id=17426.
To read more about The Forward’s list, visit http://www.forward.com/forward-50.

Only a few left-coasters make ‘Forward 50’ Read More »

Top Chanukah tunes

Just itching for a good Chanukah tale? Check out “Chanukah Stories” on KCET on Sunday, Dec. 2, 8 a.m. Actors Jami Gertz and Bob Saget narrate “The Tie Man’s Miracle” and “Moishe’s Miracle.” Or head over to the Disney Channel on Dec. 4, at 8 p.m. for “Full-Court Miracle,” based on the true the story of an African American former basketball great who is asked to lead a Jewish day school’s team to victory.

It’s the same problem every year: There are a million songs about Xmas and three about Chanukah. OK, maybe not quite that, but you get the idea. In a world where “Chanukah O’ Chanukah” and “I Had a Little Dreidel” just won’t do, songwriter Adam Chester created a holiday miracle: a real Chanukah song that is being played on the radio that you and your parents can sing — together: “Eight Days and Nights.”

“I was asked to write a Chanukah song by one of the executives on KOST,” said Chester, of the L.A. radio station where his song can be heard practically ’round the clock until December. “They were getting a lot of calls from Jewish listeners wanting more Chanukah songs. One of DJs knows me, and word got around, and they asked to me write a Chanukah song.”

And, Chester said, the listeners love it: “I get e-mails that say, ‘Finally, there’s a Chanukah song that isn’t restricted to Jewish listeners.'”
The tune, which is from Chester’s “Water Is Wide” CD, didn’t take long to create.

“It took about a day to come up with lyrics,” said Chester, who has been playing piano since he was 5. “The music was first. First the ‘Every day’s a miracle’ melody popped out — but I didn’t have the words till I was driving down Laurel Canyon. And thought, ‘It’s a miracle I didn’t get killed driving down this road.'”

His now-4-year-old son also gets a mention in the song, which premiered last year on the station and is now on the playlists of Clear Channel-owned stations around the country. (The USC grad also has a 19-month-old son and a “very supportive” wife.)

But this song isn’t like the other Chanukah ones you might have heard.
“Chanukah music is so ‘ethnic,’ and I wanted to write something a little more mainstream. So I wrote right after I finished working with Elton John for the first time,” said Chester, who arranged and conducted the choirs for “Elton 60: Live at Madison Square Garden” and continues to play in the entertainer’s band.

“I thought — wouldn’t it be neat [for a Chanukah song] to have a gospel choir?”
Yes, the song has one — a group of students from Washington Prep School in Los Angeles, who come in on the chorus: “Every day’s a miracle. Celebrate the miracle. Let the candle burn for eight days and nights.”

The ballad is a beautiful salute to both the holiday and to miracles in general.
Chester was born in New Jersey on Dec. 25, so he jokes that when he was young he would look out the window and see all the lights in the neighborhood and tell his parents: “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

But now that Chanukah songs can be found regularly on the radio this time of year, is there any chance that Chester would write a song about another Jewish holiday?

“Rosh Hashanah would be a good one,” he said. “‘O Te Reh’ was one of my favorites. Rosh Hashanah would need something uplifting — for people of all faiths. I listen to Christmas songs, why shouldn’t everyone listen to a Rosh Hashanah song?”

Since We’ve No Place to Go…

We at yeLAdim love this time of year — even though there’s more chance of “California Sun” than a “Winter Wonderland.”
Wouldn’t it be cool if Los Angeles could have a snow day? What would you do if there was a major snowfall in Southern California? Unscramble the items on the right to see what we would do — and please e-mail us at kids@jewishjournal.com with what you would do:

VEHA A WLANOSLB GFITG
EKMA A AOGSLNEWN
LIBDU NA CEI ORFT
ATEREC A NMNWASO
RETWI MEAN NI OSWN

YeLAdim wishes you and your family a very Happy Chanukah!

Quiz answers:
1) Have a snowball fight 2) Make a snow angel 3) Build an ice fort 4) Create
a snowman 5) Write name in snow

Top Chanukah tunes Read More »