fbpx

October 14, 2009

J street parley attracting big names, but will Israel’s ambassador attend?

J Street has lined up plenty of high-profile speakers for its first major conference. But the new and controversial self-described “pro-Israel, pro-peace” lobby is looking to add one more prominent name to the guest list.

The organization—which has backed U.S. pressure on Israel (and the Palestinians), criticized Israel’s invasion of Gaza and criticized more established pro-Israel groups—wants Michael Oren, the U.S.-born and raised Israeli ambassador to Washington, to attend and address its first major conference at the end of this month.

Oren is undecided. “A decision about his participation or the embassy’s participation will be taken soon.” Jonathan Peled, his spokesman, told JTA. “We will have to deliberate this week.”

Peled said that what he told The Jerusalem Post last week still stands: Some of J Street’s positions “impair” Israel’s interests. He would not elaborate further, except to say that this has been conveyed to J Street officials in private conversations.

Jeremy Ben-Ami, J Street’s founder and executive director, is not taking no for an answer. “Your attendance—even to clarify some of our areas of disagreement—will be respectfully welcomed, and we promise you an open hearing as we hope and expect you will welcome us at the Embassy one day to present our views and opinions in that same spirit,” Ben-Ami wrote in an open letter released this week. J Street sent its original, private, invitation to Oren on July 13.

Oren’s presence would lend an official Israeli imprimatur at a time when J Street’s harshest critics are painting the group as undermining Jewish unity and working in tandem with Israel’s enemies. Most recently, some critics have played up the fact that a handful of J Street’s donors—out of thousands—have ties with Arab countries and Iranian expatriates opposed to sanctions against Tehran.

Such efforts to delegitimize the organization appear to have failed. J Street’s upcoming conference has been endorsed by 160 congressional lawmakers. The slate of scheduled speakers includes several former top Israeli officials. In addition, Rabbi Eric Yoffie, who leads the country’s largest synagogue movement, the Union for Reform Judaism, is co-chairing the conference’s main event, a town hall meeting on Israel’s relationship with U.S. Jews. U.S. Reps. Robert Wexler (D-Fla.) and Jan Schakowsky (D-Ill.), leaders in Congress’ unofficial Jewish caucus and close to Obama, are taking part in a panel that examines how one to expand the definition of “pro-Israel” on the Hill.

Most notable, perhaps, is the participation of Yoffie, who tussled earlier this year with J Street over its equivocation over naming Hamas as the villain in Israel’s Gaza war. He told JTA that J Street’s views deserve a hearing in the wider Jewish community, and praised it for doing more than many more established groups to promote the Israeli position of a two-state solution. Yoffie said he would not refrain from criticizing some of J Street’s positions, particularly on Iran. “This is not an area for passivity or indifference, the stakes are too high,” he said.

Beyond securing Yoffie’s participation, J Street has made significant headway in forging an increasing level of cooperation and coordination among U.S. Jewish associated with Israel’s dovish camp.

Along with these successes, the organization has been growing. Eighteen months ago it had no budget and no office. Now J Street has a staff of 30, offices in Washington’s K Street lobbying corridor and an annual budget of $3 million.

That’s what drew Hadar Susskind, 36, to the organization. Susskind, until last month the wunderkind Washington director of the Jewish Council for Public Affairs, told JTA he crossed over when he determined that J Street was here to stay.

“They are speaking for a tremendous constituency in America,” said Susskind, not yet settled into using “we” in his new role as J Street’s director of policy and strategy. Susskind, who has served in the Israeli army, said J Street attracted him in part because of its major policy goal: aggressively seeking American intervention in the peace process toward a two-state solution. “For me going to J Street is really about doing what is best for Israel.”

Susskind said he was drawn to J Street, in part, because he had endured for so many years establishment discussions about how to draw younger Jews into the pro-Israel community; J Street was doing just that, he said. The expected 1,000 conference-goers will be split into two lobbying groups, one for university students, and one for everyone else.

Susskind is an establishment “get” for a group that until recently has been depicted as an outlier by officials at more established groups, with some speaking on the record, others preferring to distribute potentially damaging information behind the scenes.

William Daroff, the Washington director of the Jewish Federations of North America, sparked a tweet war last month with J Street and its defenders when he accused the group of “standing with the Mullahs” by opposing tough Iran sanctions.

J Street says it does not oppose the sanctions that would further isolate Iran for its suspected nuclear weapons program, but thinks implementation of such measures at this time would be “counterproductive.”

Daroff told JTA that the J Street has developed better PR chops—condemning, for instance, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad for denying the Holocaust and opposing an organized effort to shame the Toronto International Film Festival for celebrating Tel Aviv’s centennial. Still, he added, these were easy calls. J Street, he said, has not yet defended Israel when it is unpopular to do so.

“I think that J Street’s voice has some resonance on the Hill because to a large degree” it is “ in sync with the Obama administration” on pressing for renewed talks and a robust U.S. peacemaking role. “The question is when and if the Obama administration shifts direction, would J Street still be relevant?”

J Street has yet to get a toehold among Republicans—the GOPers appearing at the conference are in the “exception proves the rule” category. Rep. Charles Boustany (R-La.) is an Arab American; former Nebraska Sen. Chuck Hagel left Congress in part because he was disillusioned with his party’s foreign policy, including on the Middle East.

And despite its success in lining up former Israeli officials, J Street was turned down by Tzipi Livni, the Israeli opposition leader. She declined to address the event, even by video message.

J Street critics say the organization muddies the waters by presenting multiple, conflicting voices on important topics—when a unified voices is needed, at least in Washington.

“Those Jewish Americans, who share a deep concern for Israel’s trials and travails, have the right, even the duty, to express their criticism within the Jewish community, the public at large, pretty much anywhere—except before the administration and Congress,” Chuck Froelich, a former deputy national security adviser to Israel’s government, wrote this week in The Jerusalem Post. “There, we have to present one voice—not ‘pro’ every Israeli policy, but united, unswerving support for Israel and a strong US-Israel relationship.”

AIPAC may have made mistakes in the past, but is still the preeminent pro-Israel voice, he wrote. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” he said.

Behind the scenes, some AIPAC backers are said to be exercised about J Street—although with AIPAC boasting a budget of more than $60 million, J Street hardly poses a major threat.

Any establishment anxieties about J Street are unjustified, Susskind said.

“I have tremendous respect for AIPAC, they have done wonderful work strengthening” the U.S.-Israel relationship, he said. “We need that and more, and J Street is more.”

J street parley attracting big names, but will Israel’s ambassador attend? Read More »

Complex Problems Deserve Thoughtful Responses

Last week ” title=”Rand Corp. study “>Rand Corp. study that debunked the rationale behind last year’s Los Angeles City Council ordinance that limited fast food outlets in South Los Angeles for a year. As we reported,

Well, here comes the respected Rand Corp. and it concludes what seems obvious, that “the premises for the ban were questionable…contrary to ‘conventional wisdom,’ the density of fast-food chain restaurants per capita is actually less in South Los Angeles than in other parts of the city…..limiting the type of restaurants that move to the area isn’t likely to solve the problem.”

Interestingly, the study found no difference in fruit and vegetable consumption between residents of South Los Angeles and people in other areas. It also attributed the greater likelihood of South LA residents to be obese to their consuming more snacks and sodas than people who lived in other areas.

One would think that the findings of Rand’s study would give our city leaders pause before once again jumping into the complex arena where personal preferences, economics and a myriad of other influences effect individual choices.

That assumption would be a mistake.

Councilmember Jan Perry, the author of Complex Problems Deserve Thoughtful Responses Read More »

The Rabbi of Love

I met Rabbi Yitzhak Dovid Grossman three weeks ago in a beautiful apartment across from the Western Wall. We stood at the window and looked out at some 5,000 kids preparing to say the penitential Selichot service. He turned and spoke his first words to me: “Is that not the scene of the Mashiach?!”

Here was one of Israel’s most revered rabbis — someone who’s reported to have turned down the honor of being Israel’s chief rabbi twice — asking, rhetorically, if this youthful, dynamic prayer were not a vision of what Jerusalem would look like when the Messiah arrived.

I’d heard a lot about Rav Grossman. He founded Migdal Ohr, Israel’s largest and most innovative orphanage, and I’d even, sight unseen, hosted two events to raise awareness for the Oct. 20 Maccabi Tel Aviv/LA Clippers game at Staples Center, as a unique fundraiser for Migdal Ohr. But nothing could have prepared me for what he was like in person. Everyone who told me about him — regardless of where they stood politically or religiously — went on and on about what a tzadik, a righteous man, he is, about how incredible his work is, about how he’s succeeded in matching an out-of-this world vision of helping orphaned and troubled youth with an uncanny ability to build a 65-acre campus (think UCLA for a sense of its size) to provide a full range of educational and round-the-clock support services for nearly 7,000 troubled and/or orphaned youth, from six months to 18 years old.

But there was one other word I had heard, and it was this one that struck me the most, as I watched him in that apartment, as I walked with him to the Kotel and watched him lead and inspire those 5,000 young people, and, two days later, as I had the honor of touring the Migdal Ohr campus with him. What Rav Grossman really represents is love. Love in its purest form. A commitment to helping everyone, a genuine care for those less fortunate.

Watching Rav Grossman in that apartment, on his way to and from the Kotel — where he was mobbed by young and old, religious and secular, alike — and walking across the incredible campus he’s been able to build in Migdal HaEmek, provided me with the opportunity to be in the presence of someone who really does operate on an entirely different plane, where true commitment to caring about others transcends all. Migdal Ohr and its founder are proof that one man’s vision, along with a dedicated team of on-campus workers, many of whom are alumni of the program, and a network of supporters around the globe, really can change the world. And just in case we needed some third-party validation of Rav Grossman’s importance beyond his stature in Israel, where he’s received The Israel Prize, the country’s highest civilian honor, just this week, in our own City of Angels, The Caring Institute — an organization inspired by the example of Mother Teresa — presented its International Humanitarian of the Year award to the rabbi in a ceremony at the Westin Bonaventure along with the other recipients, Gen. Colin Powell and the Dalai Lama.

I’m driven by the belief that bridges should be built among all people on opposite ends of even the most divisive issues, and I’ve applied that approach to the disheartening issue of certain Jews questioning each other’s Jewishness. I couldn’t help but ask Rav Grossman, therefore, during our first meeting, how it is that, as one of the most renowned Orthodox rabbis in the world, he seemed to operate from a position that everyone is equal in his eyes. He wasted no time in answering me, first by asking, rhetorically, who it is that defines “Who is a Jew?” He asked me to give him my own definition and then immediately validated it by saying, “OK, this is the answer.” He then went on to say that he “never finds a more religious Jew,” than any of those thousands of kids he was looking at, spread across the huge plaza in front of us.

“Look at how they pray,” he said. Many “don’t have a kippah and do not go to religious schools.” What they shared, though, was a “feeling,” an “energy.” “Look at them dance,” he said. “Every Jew has something inside,” he continued, as he quoted part of the daily prayers, landing on neshamah, the word for “soul.” “Every soul is pure,” he said, before pointing to a light bulb in the ceiling above us, explaining that if you were to paint it black, you would not be changing the purity of that light, even if you might be covering its external body.

It was a simple yet beautiful way to capture the rabbi’s sense of purity and love while giving expression to a lifetime spent in the pursuit of transforming even the most troubled child into someone who sees — and expresses — the love that rests deeply in each soul. In the context of all of that, the rabbi then described how each and every one of us is an “ambassador,” charged with doing whatever we can to make this world a better place.

It was a magical moment, hearing such a simple and insightful teaching from such a gifted rabbi while sitting in that holy city, overlooking the Kotel and that incredible scene of thousands and thousands of young people.

There’s another point that needs to be made, though:

Lost in the all the well-deserved accolades Rav Grossman continues to receive, and in the hoopla surrounding what promises to be a great baketball game, is a simple truth: this is the Israel we love. Migdal Ohr is the Israel we as American Jews have always bought into, the best example of the best promise of Zionism: that in our own land, in our own way, we will find ways to build and improve a society, to lift the poor out of poverty, to educate even the most neglected children, to temper the cruelties of life with the kindness of faith — even if it means moving orphans from halfway across the globe to do that.

So many of us like to focus on the cool and cutting-edge aspects of Israel: on the beautiful models, the accomplished filmmakers and the wildly successful high-tech innovators.  All of that is remarkable and worth promoting, but at the end of the day, show me a developed nation without a high-tech sector and hot young artists. Migdal Ohr shows what happens when a nation’s conscience is matched by its ingenuity. It is a distinctly Jewish contribution to the Jewish state, and it’s a model for such institutions worldwide.  It’s not just a light unto the nations, it’s a shining light. l

Dan Adler is a Los Angeles-based entrepreneur.

The Rabbi of Love Read More »

Rainy Days and Pies Never Get Me Down

Rain in Lala Land is almost nonexistent, so when it rained yesterday for the first time in forever, it was like a miracle.  I expected manna to fall from the sky next or Noah in his Ark turning the corner outside my living room window.  My son was so excited as he watched the rain fall outside.  I half expected him to forget what rain was since I can’t remember the last time he saw it, except maybe on a Barney video.

I then did what any good mother would do and donned my son in his coat and rain boots that he squeezed into from last year and had only wore once or twice, and sent him out in the rain…to splash in the puddles of course.

After a run around in the rain, we made a pumpkin pie.  Baking cookies is overrated.  (And besides, I had to test out my pumpkin pie before Thanksgiving, and will probably have to “test it out” a few more times by Thanksgiving, too.)  We had it for lunch…not the whole thing.

At the end of the day, my son told me that he had so much fun today.  I don’t know if that was because I let him eat pie for lunch or what, but whatever the reason, it was a great day.  And I realized that playgrounds and theme parks may be lots of fun, but sometimes eating pie for lunch and splashing in the rain can be just as fun but without the overpriced souvenirs.

No Bake Pumpkin Pie recipe (revised from this month’s version in Good Housekeeping Magazine)
Ingredients:
1 6 oz. graham cracker crust
2 packages vanilla pudding
1 cup cold milk (or soy milk substitute)
1 cup canned pumpkin
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp nutmeg
1 ½ cups whipped topping
chocolate or caramel syrup to top
1 spray can of whipped cream

Instructions:
Drizzle chocolate syrup into pie shell.
Beat pudding mixes, milk, pumpkin, and spices until blended.
Stir in whipped topping.
Pour into crust.
Spray whipped cream on top of pumpkin mixture.
Drizzle chocolate or caramel syrup over the whipped cream.
Refrigerate and serve.

Rainy Days and Pies Never Get Me Down Read More »

Childhood Fears Feed ‘Wild Things’

When the 39-year-old filmmaker Spike Jonze began visiting the author and illustrator Maurice Sendak at his rural Connecticut farmhouse years ago, Sendak often spoke of how his Jewish immigrant relatives inspired the toothy monsters in his children’s classic, “Where the Wild Things Are.”

“Maurice was afraid they would eat him up,” said Jonze, whose film adaptation of the book opens this week, along with an HBO documentary he made about his elderly friend. An exhibition, “There’s a Mystery There: Sendak on Sendak,” meanwhile, is on display through Jan. 19 at San Francisco’s Contemporary Jewish Museum.

During those conversations and others around the dining-room table in Connecticut, Sendak described how the book actually began as another children’s project, titled “Where the Wild Horses Are,” which tanked when Sendak discovered he couldn’t draw a horse to save his life. When his publisher acidly asked what exactly he could draw, Sendak flashed on memories of his immigrant relatives, who had fled Poland before the Holocaust and regularly invaded his Brooklyn home to devour everything in sight. “These people didn’t speak English,” he said, in “Heads On and We Shoot,” a book about the making of the movie. “They were unkempt. Their teeth were horrifying. Hair unraveling out of their noses. And they’d pick you up and hug you and kiss you, saying, ‘Aggghh. Oh, we could eat you up.’”

In Sendak’s 1963 classic — a groundbreaking effort that did not play down children’s real fears — the Wild Things recall his Jewish aunts and uncles, albeit with claws and rolling yellow eyes. The monsters befriend a naughty boy named Max, who daydreams about them after being sent to his room without supper and tames them by looking into their googly eyes without blinking once.

“That’s what art is,” Sendak said. “You don’t make up stories. You live your life.”

Jonze (born Adam Spiegel) took this advice when, after much urging from Sendak, he signed on to adapt the book, whereupon he struggled with studio executives who reportedly disliked his version because “I was making a film about children, not a ‘children’s film,’” Jonze said. “Maurice urged me to make Max’s story my own,” he added during an interview at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, where he wore sneakers with his suit and boyishly slouched in his chair. “Maurice said, ‘You make this personal, you make this dangerous, you do not pander to children, and don’t be overly reverential to the book.”

While the Max of the book is “incredibly brave, fierce, mischievous and loving — just like Maurice,” Jonze said, the movie’s Max is more vulnerable, hearkening back to the filmmaker’s own days as the sensitive child of parents who divorced when he was 2. Jonze won’t discuss much more personal information, including his own Jewish background — although he has admitted to being the great-great-grandson of Joseph Spiegel, who founded the Spiegel catalogue at the turn of the 20th century with his son, Arthur, and was the son of a German rabbi. The family business was sold, so it appears Jonze is not — as rumors have claimed — the heir to that business’s fortune.

Instead, he made his own way in the world, first in the skateboarding culture, then as a maker of influential music videos and two surreal but critically acclaimed, Oscar-winning films, “Being John Malkovich” and “Adaptation,” released in 1999 and 2002, respectively.

It was before he made either of those movies, in 1994, that he met Sendak, who is 42 years his senior: Sendak’s film company had hired him to adapt the children’s book, “Harold and the Purple Crayon,” a project that never came to fruition. But a friendship blossomed between the two artists, despite their age difference, perhaps because both remained so tuned in to the emotions of childhood. “I’ve never regarded Maurice as a father figure, because he isn’t that patriarchal,” Jonze said.

“When I first met him I was 25, and I loved him, but I didn’t have the same conversations that we would have when I was in my 30s — I hadn’t yet been through that much,” he added, alluding to the dissolution of his marriage to filmmaker Sofia Coppola, Francis Ford Coppola’s daughter, in 2004. “He is wise and experienced, but he never stops questioning or struggling.” 

“Tell Them Anything You Want: A Portrait of Maurice Sendak,” explores Sendak’s preoccupation with death and with his legacy, among other obsessions, now that he is 81; it is among eight short documentaries short-listed to receive a 2010 Oscar nomination. “I just wanted to capture a portrait of this man that I love, so I would bring my video camera every time I went to visit him,” Jonze said of the 40-minute documentary. And what has Sendak taught Jonze as an artist? “He doesn’t care about publishing houses and movie studios and mega-conglomerate corporations,” Jonze said. “He only cares about an artist telling the truth.”

“Where the Wild Things Are” opens in theaters Oct. 16. For information on the documentary,“Tell Them Anything You Want,” visit this article at jewishjournal.com.

“Tell Them Anything You Want” premieres Oct. 14 on HBO, will have an encore performance Oct. 30 on HBO2 and is available on demand. For details, check local listings.

Childhood Fears Feed ‘Wild Things’ Read More »

The Naked Sukkah

It started raining on Monday night, so I had to scramble to get the Sukkah decorations down before they got ruined. (Incredibly, even though we’re in a drought in Southern California, the rain is “bad” because it might cause mudslides. It’s hard to know what to pray for…) I knew I wouldn’t have time to get the walls and the bamboo down, but figured that they’d eventually dry out and be fine. When I had completed removing all of the various plastic fruits and the child-crafted ushpizin posters, I noticed something quite striking. An undecorated Sukkah is a pretty stark sight.  I guess I had never sat and stared at it in that condition before. Slowly though, the recognition swept over me that far from being a post-holiday letdown, this was actually a profoundly religious moment. Over the last day or so, I’ve become convinced that removing the Sukkah decorations, and taking a good long look at the stark and naked Sukkah, is the perfect exit ritual for Sukkot.

We’re all familiar with the idea that the Sukkah is intended to be a temporary dwelling – a metaphor for our lives and for our world. Nonetheless, as Sukkot is “the season of our joy”, we want to insure that its messages of “temporariness” and “fragility” don’t inadvertently induce depression within those who sit beneath its shade. Such a development would, as they might have said in the old country, fashtair the simcha. Big time. This is the genesis, I imagine, of the mandate to decorate the Sukkah – to transform our potentially dreary metaphor into a spectacular display of holiday cheer. How else to explain the otherwise frivolous-seeming interest that Jewish Law takes in the decorations, and in their halachik status?

But the day after Sukkot, when we are no longer in legally-mandated happiness, is a good opportunity to see the metaphor that is the Sukkah, in all its unspectacular glory. Let’s face it. The world is a fragile place, one that despite its size and grandeur carries the hint of temporariness about it – especially in light of modern scientific knowledge, and modern human capacities to wreak enormous destruction. The end of Sukkot doesn’t merely mark the close of the holiday period. It marks the beginning of the post-holiday period – the period of many, many months during which we encounter the world not through the holy rosy lenses of one of our Festivals, but with a clear vision as to the fragile state of all things. This is period during which we are religiously enjoined to make a difference for the good in a sector of this fragile world about which we feel passionate. To try to shore it up a little. What then could be a better transition ritual than to strip the Sukkah down to its unadorned true fragile self, and to absorb this picture for a few minutes?  To see things as they really are. And then after that, to take a deep breath, and to say to God, “Here I am. Reporting for duty in this crazy, fragile, glorious sukkah that You call Earth.”

The Naked Sukkah Read More »

Married Under the Open Sky

We stood near a gleaming pond nestled within a circle of age-old, giant Sequoia trees. The mighty croak of a bullfrog called out from the reeds, as if answering our ancient call to attention from the shofar.

On July 2, my husband, Sagi Salomon, and I affirmed our yechidut (unity), surrounded by family and friends who joined us for our four-day wedding camping experience in a mountaintop forest at Balch Park in Springville, part of Sequoia National Forest. 

As I stood under the chuppah and gazed into Sagi’s eyes, I saw an eternity of searching, loving, depth and perfection.  Not the elusive perfection that society tries to sell us, but the perfectly flawed type that allows for real growth and connection.

From the symbolic home that Sagi and I built, I could feel the soul of the forest dancing for joy and heavens pouring out immense love. The water, bursting with life, the deeply rooted trees and the wide-open skies seemed to inspire a sense of freedom.

We discovered Balch Park by accident during a summer road trip. The forest radiated a subtle yet powerful ancient energy that felt deep, grounding, healing and inspiring. This park — a world within another world, located a few hours from the nearest major city — became our quick escape to a sacred land in which the human spirit could slow down to meet the rhythms of the earth. Being in nature helps us feel the oneness of the heavens and earth, the physical and metaphysical, every creature, human and animal, the sensual and the transcendent, Hashem and the Shechinah (feminine presence of God).

After camping in Yosemite and Sequoia, it suddenly made sense to us why the greatest moments of opening and receiving of the Divine Spirit within the Jewish tradition had taken place in nature and why it was the most fitting place to join our souls in marriage.

On a fundamental level, being in nature rekindles the soul and reminds the heart of what really matters in life, what is possible for humanity, and who and how we need to be for the world to experience a tikkun (repair).

Planning and executing such a grand event was a challenge. The question of what is enough and what really matters shaped our entire wedding.

We understood that the marriage is far more important than the wedding, and yet the wedding should also be an elegant and fanciful affair steeped in the spiritual essence of Jewish tradition.

Rabbi Dara Frimmer of Temple Isaiah, our dear friend and wedding officiant, provided unending and loving support and guidance throughout the entire process, helping us explore and integrate Jewish traditions into the wedding and camping experience.

We also attended a workshop series, “Celebrating Men, Satisfying Women,” which provided us with tools and insights for understanding the opposite sex and creating a peaceful, loving and passionate partnership. Sagi and I explored each other’s values, dreams, needs and desires, carefully documenting our individual and united goals, defining the core values that serve as the foundation of our marriage. This study was then used to create our liberal ketubah, which outlined the physical as well as the mental, emotional and spiritual obligations as a representation of our vow to each other. 

In addition to a liberal ketubah witnessed by two women — Sheri Bluebond, my Jewish big sister, and Susan Elias, Sagi’s godmother — we chose to honor the traditional Orthodox ketubah with two Shabbat-observant male witnesses and friends, Gal Ben-Naim and Moshav’s Yehuda Solomon. This decision came about from our desire to bridge the old and the new and create a balanced, holistic foundation.

I bought a gown from Brides Against Breast Cancer, a nonprofit organization that sells new and used donated gowns to help make a wish come true for a woman dying of breast cancer, emphasizing that a bride need not compromise on the beauty of her gown to take a stand in reducing consumption and waste while also doing a mitzvah. Sagi handmade my jewelry, and he recycled the doilies crocheted by his late grandfather and stitched them together to create the chuppah, now a family heirloom.

All the decorations were handmade by family and friends, purchased with the intent of creating a simcha gemach — communal lending of items to be reused for many years to come. (In fact, they are already on loan for an upcoming wedding.)

Using handmade invitations, we had invited 75 of our closest and dearest family and friends for a camping wedding celebration to “explore what is possible in celebrating love consciously, to feel blessed and inspired as we immerse in the ancient energy of the forest, to experience the oneness and inherent perfection in nature and embrace the oneness and perfection in one another.”

Although the destination was remote, our guests enjoyed a feast of kosher Persian food from Sason Catering, displayed on tables draped in copper silks and decorated with centerpieces made of moss, branches, silk butterflies and flowers. There was dancing on a wooden dance floor, celebrating to the live sounds of Moshav jamming away in the woods, from traditional Chasidic songs to The Beatles.

Sagi, a professional electrician with King Salomon Energy Electric, designed and installed all of the event lighting in a way that would not leave a mark on the park’s environment. While the wedding dinner itself was served on china, all paper goods used throughout the weekend were biodegradable and compostable, and the wedding programs, which we wrote and decorated, were printed on recycled paper.

The Jewish communal camping experience after the wedding represented our commitment to creating a loving community — one supportive of individuals of different backgrounds, which joined together for rituals and celebration in nature.

Lest anyone think the guests were granola-crunching, Birkenstock-wearing, grungy greenies, the camping party included bankers, educators, rabbis, politicians and attorneys hailing from Bel Air and Beverly Hills to France and New York. Contrary to popular belief, Jews can survive in the wild and enjoy it too.

The camping experience was every bit as magical as the wedding, especially because each person contributed their talents to creating an organic community. Mornings began with hot foods cooking and coffee brewing on the stove and people waking up with a peaceful glow in their eyes.

On Friday morning, while some guests enjoyed horseback riding through the woods, others joined Sagi and me at Hidden Falls, where the Tule River tumbles down the mountainside, guided on either side by grand trees — some fallen and others growing high — with bark floating in circular pools, inviting guests to swim and splash for sheer pleasure, fun and transcendent renewal.

The Shabbat candle lighting that evening featured the glow of 30 tea lights set upon a large tree stump with people gathered around, arm in arm, chanting and swaying. There were songs of kabbalat Shabbat, the rhythm of the drums and shakers and the crackling of the roaring fire. I invited each person to set their kavanah (intention) for Shabbat and dwell in it, for it is this dwelling that creates a vessel for possibilities.

Sagi and I had rescued and restored a 200-year-old sefer Torah from Poland for the occasion and read it before a giant Sequoia tree. I led the service with my friend, Sara Allinson, which combined meditation, kavanot and traditional prayer text.

As providence would have it, the Torah portion for the week was Parashat Chukat-Balak, which echoed our camping experience. In this parasha, Balaam, a master of the dark arts, is hired to set a curse upon the tents of Israel. Instead, he blesses the people with the words: “How fair are your tents, O Jacob; your dwellings, O Israel” (Numbers 24:5). How truly fair it was to dwell peacefully as One.

Rachel N. Bello holds degrees in Jewish studies and nursing, and is cultivating a holistic health program that blends spiritual Jewish traditions, energy, complementary and Western medicine. For more information, e-mail {encode=”RachelNBello268@gmail.com” title=”RachelNBello268@gmail.com”}.

Married Under the Open Sky Read More »

Mystery in Creation

Hebrew letters, when decoded, are magical. So it was especially powerful when my adult b’nai mitzvah Hebrew class was working on the letter Bet and opened the Torah to this week’s portion to find that it’s the first letter of Torah.

“Why not Alef?” one student asked.

The ancient rabbis asked the same question. Their answer? Look at how the Bet is shaped. What does this letter — which is open to the left and closed on the right — teach us?

It points us toward the future. Look forward, not backward. It doesn’t matter what came before; what matters is what happens now. This is an important spiritual teaching for those of us caught up in past dramas that keep us from going forward and beginning again.

Then my students tried to sound out the first three words of Torah: Bereshit bara Elohim. We read some different translations. One rendered the words: “In the beginning, God created …”; another: “When God began to create …”

One student immediately pointed out that those translations don’t mean the same thing. How you choose to translate these three words determines your view of creation — is this the beginning or not?

So we looked to Rashi, the famous medieval commentator. Commenting on the opening words, Rashi says: “These words call out: Interpret me!” In other words: All this is metaphor, not to be taken literally. It is not intended to teach the actual order and physical details of creation. The next sentence includes: “and the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters.” If this teaches the order of creation, when were the waters created?

What Rashi knew in the 11th century is apparently lost on certain Americans who are demanding that creationism be taught alongside evolution. Is it possible to reconcile the biblical account with modern scientific knowledge? Maybe in very broad strokes. “Let there be light” might not be so different from the Big Bang theory.

But to argue this way is to miss the point. The Bible is not science, but religion.

And just to make the point even more clear, when creationists talk about the biblical story of creation, which one are they talking about?

There are actually two — the first chapter and the second. In the first, human beings are the pinnacle of creation, created on the sixth day in the image of God, male and female. In the second, the human was created first and then the animals. In the first, the human is both male and female. In the second, first there is the male human and then out of his rib comes woman. Or maybe not. Maybe the second story is a detail of the first. Some rabbis read the word tzela, which is usually translated as “rib,” to mean “side.” (It is the same word that is used to describe the side of the portable tabernacle in the wilderness.) So even in the second story, one could imagine the first Adam as male and female, androgynous. In this reading, when God creates man and woman, God splits the original human in two, fashioning one side as a man and one side as a woman.

Another interpretation of the two stories comes from Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik. For him, two different images of human beings emerge from each story. In Genesis 1, humans are given power over the whole world. In Genesis 2, the focus is more personal, presenting a human being longing for community. Both stories together capture the truth. We are simultaneously powerful beings who need intimacy and community.

Perhaps the two stories are to remind us that we need humility to acknowledge that there are no answers to certain questions. There is mystery in creation. Beginning the Torah with the letter Bet hints at the mystery.

So the purpose of the creation stories in Genesis is not to tell us the physical details of how the world was created, but rather to help us understand why we are here. We are created in the image of God, says the first story. Our task is to create a world where everyone can live as though he or she really were created in God’s image — every human being unique, equal and of ultimate value. The second story tells us that we are to tend the garden God gave us. A midrash tells us that God took the original human being by the hand and showed the human all the trees of the garden. “See how beautiful and how perfect are all my works. All that I created, I created for you. So take care of my world. For there is no one else to look after it.”

Science and religion don’t contradict each other; they speak different languages. We need science to understand how the universe works and to improve the conditions of our lives. We need religion to remind us that creation isn’t finished; it is up to us to be God’s partners in creating a world that is good. We need them both — each for their appropriate purpose.

Laura Geller is senior rabbi of Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills, a Reform congregation.

Mystery in Creation Read More »

Obituaries: October 16-22, 2009

Sylvia Aboulafia died July 25 at 89. She is survived by her two nephews; and brother, Victor Levy. Malinow and Silverman

Erwin Abrams died July 24 at 86. He is survived by his two nephews. Malinow and Silverman

Marina Akhten died Aug. 7 at 57. She is survived by her daughter, Daria; and sister, Rima (David) Fridman. Mount Sinai

Susan Barke died July 28 at 47. She is survived by her daughter, Taylor; and sister, Jennifer Glazier. Malinow and Silverman

Rosalind Bihari died Aug. 7 at 88. She is survived by her brother, Joseph. Hillside

Fern Ellen Chamberlain died Aug. 2 at 50. She is survived by her husband, Kim; daughters, Jackie and Emily; parents, Annabelle and Ken Latzer; sister, Lynn Shapley; and brother, Michael Latzer. Hillside 

Gerald Chapnick died Aug. 7 at 67. He is survived by his wife, Marcia; sons, Brandon (Risa), Howard and Andrew; three grandchildren; and sister, Marcia (Fred) Wood. Mount Sinai

Ruth L. Davis died Aug. 6. She is survived by her husband, Lawrence; and daughters, Doreen Kana and Marilyn (Stewart) Nerenberg.

Pauline Diamond died Aug. 6 at 72. She is survived by her daughter, Andrea (Steve) Lara; son, Jeff (Suzanne) Yaller; six grandchildren; two great-grandchildren; sister, Roz Chambers; and brother, Cal. Mount Sinai

Sylvia Felber died Aug. 1 at 97. She is survived by her sons, David Jr. (Estelle) and Bruce (Jenny); four grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren. Hillside

Donald Gilford died July 24 at 81. He is survived by his wife, Rosalie; sons, Andrew (Bette Lu), Jimmy (Terese) and Robert (Lisa); three grandchildren; and sister, Evelyn Greene. Malinow and Silverman

Doris Goldman died July 29 at 77. She is survived by her daughter, Nancy Duitch. Malinow and Silverman

Ruth Golombek died Aug. 7 at 93. She is survived by her daughter, Sarah (Louis) Feldman; son, Henry (Vicki); and four grandchildren. Hillside

Toba Greenfield died July 20 at 86. She is survived by her husband, Bernard; sons, Peter and Lance; and six grandchildren. Hillside

Dorothy Grushow died Aug. 4 at 80. She is survived by her husband, Herbert; daughter, Janet; son, Sandy; and two grandchildren. Mount Sinai

Kay Hirsch died Aug. 8 at 93. She is survived by her daughters, Carole Wallace and Marsha (David) Genut; four grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; and sister, Phyllis (Izzy) Siegel. Mount Sinai

Marvin Hirsch died July 26 at 80. He is survived by his wife, Janet; daughter, Denise (Dave) Hirsch-Shell; sons, Mark and Gregg (Kaori); two grandchildren; and sisters, Elaine (Mike) Gordon, Marilyn Haber and Myrna Grayson. Malinow and Silverman

Seymour Kubernick died July 30 at 90. He is survived by his wife, Gertrude; daughters, Sheila (Romeo) Mendoza and Marsha (William) Saylor; brother, Marshall (Hilda); and two grandchildren. Malinow and Silverman

Florence Later died Aug. 7 at 88. She is survived by her daughters, Adria (Stephen) August and Rhonda (Barry) Friedman; son, Todd; and three grandchildren. Mount Sinai

Beatrice Levavi died July 26 at 64. She is survived by her children; and sister. Malinow and Silverman

Marshall Levinson died July 25 at 83. He is survived by his wife, Susan; and daughters, Valerie and Beau. Hillside

Trudy Nathanson died July 26 at 93. She is survived by her son, Peter (Diane); one grandchild; and one great-grandchild. Malinow and Silverman

Terry Oberman died Aug. 8 at 62. He is survived by his wife, Robin; daughters, Harriet (Gabor Nagy) and Helene; son, Jacob; two grandchildren; and sister, Judy (Kenneth) Arkin. Mount Sinai

Chava Pelleg died June 27 at 81. She is survived by her husband, Moshe; daughter, Donna (Tino); sons, Ron (Robin) and Larry (Karen); and seven grandchildren. Mount Sinai

Julian Pregulman died Aug. 1 at 88. He is survived by his companion, Gerrie Gussman; daughters, Judy (Rick) Hoplain and Nancy; son, Steven (Nancy); four grandchildren; sister, Renee Dubin; and brother, Mervin (Helen). Hillside

Charlotte Horwitz Prell died Aug. 7 at 88. She is survived by her daughters, Diane Harman and Janet Colman. Hillside.

Norman Morton Puls died Aug. 5 at 72. He is survived by his wife, Eleanor; daughter, Lorie Jill Ferris; son, David Eric; and four grandchildren. Mount Sinai

Dorothy Rosen died Aug. 5 at 90. She is survived by her daughter, Beverly Fleischer; two grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; two stepsons; and four step-grandchildren. Mount Sinai

Dorothy Rosenthal died July 30 at 92. She is survived by her daughter, Pat Binder; and son, Jeffrey Berman. Malinow and Silverman

Eleanor Senter died July 28 at 86. She is survived by her husband, Sidney; daughters, Jacquelyn (Royce) Walker and Sheri; and three grandchildren. Hillside

Phyllis Shapiro died July 24 at 73. She is survived by her daughter, Tina Appel; son, Arthur Appel; and two grandchildren. Hillside

Harry Sherman died Aug. 7 at 98. He is survived by his wife, Rosalie; sons, Bob and Michael (Wendy); four grandchildren; and one great-grandchild. Hillside

Alfred Silverberg died Aug. 5 at 79. He is survived by his daughter, Sheri Ann (Leon) Silverberg-Pilosof; son, Kenny (Michele); and four grandchildren. Mount Sinai

George Strong died July 26 at 76. He is survived by his daughters, Nikki (Sam) Shocket and Cori Persky; sons, Evan (Sharona) Peller and Shannon (Delores); and seven grandchildren. Malinow and Silverman

William Weingarten died July 24 at 97. He is survived by his wife, Lili; daughter, Frances Lobman; and two grandchildren. Hillside


The Jewish Journalpublishes obituary notices free of charge.

Please send an e-mailin the above format with the name, age and survivorsof the deceased to
obits@jewishjournal.com.

If you have any questions, e-mail or call (213) 368-1661, ext. 116.

Obituaries: October 16-22, 2009 Read More »