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July 17, 2013

Guess how much I love you [Parashat Vaetchanan – Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11]

There is a well-known children’s book depicting a nut-brown hare and its child playing a game called “Guess How Much I Love You.” In it, the child stretches tall and wide, jumps high and reaches toward the horizon to show his affection for the parent. In response, the parent always seems to extend the love just a little further. “I love you to the moon!” the child ultimately says, expressing the largest quantifiable measure of love within his grasp. And with patient simplicity, the parent responds, “I love you to the moon … and back.” The book’s message isn’t about love without limits. It’s better than that. It is a genuine expression of love met with even more love.

The moments when we love completely, when we act fully, and when we are of singular mind amid a plurality of demands and needs are indeed precious. Those moments are the most sacred, the most meaningful because the loving response is equally, if not more powerfully, reciprocated. These moments are inspiring, even knowing that we will only experience them periodically.

This requited love is what we are meant to consider when we recite the words of the Shema and Ve-ahavta each morning and evening, the words of which are found in this week’s Torah portion, Vaetchanan. God commands us to love with all our heart, b’chol levavcha (with all your heart/mind). This is a rare construction of the word for heart, lamed bet bet, with an additional letter to define the limits of our love for God. Why does there need to be an extra bet to describe this love? Are the other forms of love described throughout the Torah somehow diminished by this doubling? Is there a possibility that if we don’t love enough, only one bet worth, that we aren’t fulfilling our duty to God, to others, to ourselves? Could our love, somehow incomplete, be unrequited by the One who demands whole hearts?

This unique construction of the word for heart (which appears here in the book of Deuteronomy and in later prophetic and historical writings) has been the subject of much interpretation over the years. Most famously, we read in the Babylonian Talmud explaining that the two “bets” of the word here refer to the commitment to love in totality — both the good and the bad. It even goes further to acknowledge the two bets are the two constructs of our ego, the yetzer harah and the yetzer hatov — the evil and good inclinations. We can play with the dichotomies between so many concepts of love — the real and the ideal, the past and the future, (maybe in our children’s book) the simple and the complex. All of these dichotomies are not meant to be parsed into isolation. We don’t only get to love the other for the qualities we like. We have to love them for all they possess. 

Love, like most emotional experiences, has limitless capacity but is manifest in particular, quantifiable moments. Love is experienced in the countless gestures of help and service to another, in friendship and companionship, and even in moments of chastisement and rebuke. And while love may have unlimited potential, it is only experienced in specific moments. To love b’chol levavcha means we aspire toward a growing expression of love for others, for ourselves, for God. Like the child and the parent playing the guessing game, b’chol levavcha is the caring response we hear from others and even from God when we love this way ourselves. It’s why the words of the Ve-ahavta continue beyond the heart as well. We love with all our souls and all our might because we crave more connection. It is God who desires to respond to every gesture and aspiration along the way. And with a love like this, no guessing in return is necessary. 

Joshua Hoffman is a rabbi with Valley Beth Shalom (vbs.org), a Conservative congregation in Encino.

Guess how much I love you [Parashat Vaetchanan – Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11] Read More »

July 4 in Latvia

July 4 is a great holiday to celebrate and to observe.  I have spent July 4 in many different places, among my favorite are at Dodger Stadium, at the beach for fireworks, or at a BBQ with family and friends.  Some of the other more memorable ones have been in Palo Alto for the 1994 World Cup semifinal match between USA and Brazil, in Boston to see the Pops, and in Israel in 2002 on a Federation mission (and everyone's phones started ringing which in Israel alerted everyone to an attack–but this one was not in Israel, it was at LAX).

However this year July 4 was a day to observe.  In many countries the US Ambassador hosts a BBQ to celebrate Independence Day on July 4, but not in Latvia.   July 4 is a national holiday commemorating the destruction of the synagogues in Latvia, including the Great Choral Synagogue in Riga where several hundred people were burned inside.

So rather than celebrating American Independence, at noon on July 4 in Riga, while most Americans were asleep in the USA, I was at the remains of the Great Choral Synagogue attending a ceremony observing the holiday and remembering those who perished.  To recognize the importance of this holiday in Latvia does not go unnoticed considering those in attendance, including Latvian President Andris Bērziņš and several Latvian government Ministers, United States Ambassador Mark Pekala and Israel Ambassador Hagit Ben Yaakov and nearly one dozen other ambassadors of various countries were also there.

President Bērziņš spoke eloquently, as did the Mayor of Riga Nils Ušakovs, Ambassador Ben Yaakov, US State Department Special Envoy for Holocaust Issues Douglas Davidson and Rabbi Andrew Baker.  Events as these that commemorate the Holocaust are important not just for remembering those who perished, but to keep us cognizant of the issues around the world still before us today regarding anti-semitism and hate directed towards other people whether be it religious, ethnic or social orientation.  And events like these are not just memorials and commemorations but a call to action which is why organizations like ADL, AJC, and JWW are so important.  Rabbi Baker closed his remarks saying “the lessons that we draw from today’s solemn commemorations are not only about the past. They are very much about our future.”

July 4 in Latvia Read More »

As Kerry meets with Abbas, new West Bank housing advances

An Israeli committee approved the construction of West Bank housing on the same day that U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry met in Jordan with Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas.

The settlement subcommittee of the Higher Planning Council of the Civil Administration, the body that oversees governance of the West Bank, on Wednesday approved the building of 732 apartments in Modi’in Ilit, located halfway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, and 19 in Kfar Adumim.

Defense Minister Moshe Yaalon must approve the construction.

Deliberations on more than 300 housing units for several isolated West Bank settlements was postponed at the request of Yaalon, Haaretz reported.

Kerry was in the region in his continuing bid to jump-start peace negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians. He met in Amman with Abbas, who was to brief the Palestine Liberation Organization on the talks the following day, according to Reuters.

“It has become a trend to see such Israeli behavior each time an American or an international official visits the region to push forward the negotiation track,” Mohammed Ishtayeh, a member of the Palestinian negotiating team, told Reuters.

Also Wednesday, Kerry met with officials from several Arab countries, including Bahrain, Egypt, Jordan, Kuwait, Morocco, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, according to Reuters, trying to ensure that the Arab League would back a resumption of the peace process.

“The Arab delegates believe Kerry’s ideas proposed to the committee today constitute a good ground and suitable environment for restarting the negotiations, especially the new and important political, economic and security elements,” the Arab League said in a statement following the meeting.

Kerry has welcomed the Arab League’s revival of its 2002 peace initiative, which posited comprehensive peace in exchange for a return to the 1967 borders as the basis for restarting peace talks.

As Kerry meets with Abbas, new West Bank housing advances Read More »

Bonding at Baby U

For new parents, having their first child can be scary, stressful and utterly stupefying. 

Westside Jewish Community Center hopes it will be a little less so thanks to Jewish Baby University, a five-week class designed to prepare people for what parenthood is really like.

The program, which launched this spring and begins its second session July 28, is open to anyone expecting his or her first child. It incorporates Jewish themes and teaches parents how to plan, in both a practical and spiritual function, for their incoming son or daughter. 

“The class is attractive to people who have a Jewish background but need a reminder and to those who really don’t know where to start,” said Lauren Friedman, program coordinator of the Westside JCC. “This is their starting point into Jewish life.”

Jewish Baby University is based on existing programs at Jewish community centers in Phoenix and Denver and funded by a grant from the Maurice Amado Foundation. It’s taught by Rabbi Dalia Samansky, a mother of two from Woodland Hills, who focuses on pastoral work and assists with baby naming ceremonies in Los Angeles. 

“As a young mom, it’s a great class to teach,” she said. “[Being Jewish] and parenting are both such sacred journeys in and of themselves.”

Each class incorporates a new theme and features a guest speaker. In terms of Judaism itself, attendees learn about rituals surrounding childbirth, as well as how to create a Jewish home and find a Jewish community in Los Angeles. Although religious practices are discussed, the class is suitable for Jews from all different backgrounds, Friedman said. “It’s more cultural and traditional. We have couples from all the denominations, so we don’t want to impose anything on them.”

Expecting parents find out about financial planning, medical practices involved in pregnancy and birth, and how to adapt emotionally and mentally to being a parent. Speakers in the inaugural session included Dr. Andrew Shpall, a mohel; Yana Katzap-Nackman, a doula; Debra Markovic from JKidLA, a resource of Jewish educational opportunities from BJE-Builders of Jewish Education; and Dan Feinberg, a financial adviser with Wells Fargo Advisors.

Richard Weintraub, a psychologist, visited the class on the last day to talk about how parents can focus on the present and stay calm about the pregnancy. He described how babies, even before they are born, understand when their mothers are at peace or anxious. Weintraub also stressed the importance of physical contact between parents and children. 

For the first session of Jewish Baby University, which took place from April 14 to May 24 and ended with a Shabbat dinner, seven couples signed up. One of the students was Genevieve Goldstone, a Jew by Choice who said the class made her feel more secure about the prospect of raising a Jewish child. 

“The class validated my knowledge and allowed me and my husband to have some more directed conversations about our practice so that we could be more on the same page going into parenthood,” she said.

Beth Cohan, another participant, said the class was an opportunity to meet other couples who were having their first child. But it was more than that.

“[My husband and I] came from similar backgrounds, but we were interested in figuring out which traditions we’d like to bring into our home,” she said.

It’s especially important to decide upon these traditions before the baby is born, Samansky said, because “a lot of what you do in the beginning becomes habitual. Humans crave routine and normalcy, and to make something like this part of your life and to make decisions ahead of time makes it easier on the family.”

Jewish Baby University was designed by the Westside JCC not only to educate expecting parents, but to connect them and provide a social outlet. Because many of the couples are transplants to Los Angeles, they are still looking for a community and friends, Samansky said. 

Johanna Schmidt, who moved to Santa Monica with her husband shortly before joining the class, said, “One of our goals in taking the class was to meet other couples. We’ve done that, so we’re really happy.”

Now that the first session has ended, looking back, Friedman said that it was successful. “We’ve had such great response from the couples. We’re building something that will feed into all the other JCC programs.”

After reviewing evaluations from the initial group, Friedman and Samansky are going to change and update the course as needed. The next session also will be five weeks long and cost $200, just like the original. 

Other options for expecting Jewish parents do exist — Cedars-Sinai has single-day, three-hour workshops — but Friedman believes that the comprehensiveness of Jewish Baby University is “filling a really important void.”

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Tikkun olam lunches nourish those in need

For 13-year-old Odelia Safadel, serving lunch to Pico-Robertson’s poor and homeless puts things in perspective.

“Sometimes, I think to myself, ‘Oh, there’s nothing to eat. I want a new phone, I want this.’ But then when I come here, I see that these people — they are actually in desperate need,” she said, standing next to a buffet table filled with meatballs, rice and other filling dishes for the dozens of hungry people who came to B’nai David-Judea Congregation’s most recent tikkun olam — repairing the world — lunch. 

At this particular meal, on a Wednesday afternoon, about 60 people filtered into two separate rooms at the Pico Boulevard Orthodox synagogue — Jews, non-Jews, blacks, Russians, mothers with babies, and people just looking for a meal and some spiritual inspiration from B’nai David’s rabbi, Yosef Kanefsky. 

Odelia, a seventh-grader at Yeshivat Yavneh in Hancock Park, was one of several girls who came to serve food to the lunch’s attendees. 

The tikkun olam lunches, which are held seven times per year, were inspired by congregant David Nimmer. As Nimmer tells it, at a Sukkot lunch at least 10 years ago, a rabbinic intern at the synagogue was teaching attendees a text that covered the concept of a sukkat shalom, a welcoming sukkah.

“What do I, God, want of you [the Jewish people]?” Nimmer recalled learning. “To feed the hungry, visit the sick, clothe the poor.” 

When he heard that, Nimmer knew that learning tzedakah was not enough. He had to give tzedakah.

“Let’s not just learn about it in this beautiful setting of Torah study,” he remembered saying. “Let’s implement it.”

And that’s precisely what Nimmer and Kanefsky did. The first version of the tikkun olam lunch was during Sukkot of that year. But it wasn’t a lunch; it was a breakfast. And unlike the recent lunch, 60 people didn’t come — only one did.

“The first lunch literally had one semi-homeless person,” Nimmer said. “And he wasn’t terribly homeless, either. He was a very high-functioning guy.”

But since that first meal, the tikkun olam lunch has grown rapidly, so rapidly that there are now two separate meals at each lunch, one for Russian speakers who populate the neighborhood and one for others. Every lunch, before and sometimes after the meal, Kanefsky hands out $15 gift cards for Ralphs grocery store to guests.

Hurrying between the upstairs lunch — for English speakers — and the downstairs lunch — for Russian speakers — Kanefsky described how B’nai David has created a home for those in need, even if it’s only for several hours per year. 

“A sukkat shalom is a sukkah that everyone is welcome to come into, and everyone feels at home, and everyone feels part of the community.”

The Russian lunch, held in B’nai David’s large banquet hall, included a local resident stopping in to play guitar for the guests and an introduction by a representative of The Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles explaining how people at the lunch can use the organization’s resources. Everything was translated into Russian by a volunteer, Gary Reznik.

One 76-year-old Russian woman said that she has been coming to the tikkun olam lunches for seven years. She described them as something “close to the heart,” whether she sat next to friends or just tikkun olam acquaintances. 

“The food is great here, the music is great here, and the holiness of this place …” her voice trailed off.

Upstairs, about 40 people were sitting around multiple tables, eating, chatting and singing “Sweet Home Alabama” as a B’nai David congregant led the song on guitar. When that tune ended, some of the participants — the non-Jewish ones, it turned out — began an alternate version of the same song: “Sweet Home Israel.”

“Sweet home Israel, Lord I’m coming home to you,” sang many of the guests. The most passionate singers, in fact, seemed to be devout Christians who belong to local churches. For 46-year-old Shana Gudger, this was her first lunch at B’nai David. After finishing her meal, she said that she felt good coming to a synagogue for some food and feeling welcomed. Her church, like her, is struggling financially.

“Honestly, we need to have this in our congregation,” Gudger said. “It was just good to come to another place — a different denomination — and see that they still accept us.”

Over the past decade, Kanefsky has come in touch with hundreds of people who are homeless or at least in serious financial distress, and he has developed personal bonds with many of them. That, he said, makes it tough to see people who are able to stand on their own for a few months return to a tikkun olam lunch, again in need.

“Over the many years, I’ve seen people whose lives have gotten dramatically better,” Kanefsky said. “Then six months later or a year later, they are kind of back where they started.” 

As tragic as this is, it does give Kanefsky a chance to build a sort of community.

“The civic and religious obligation that we have is to extend assistance and friendship to the poor people who are in our community,” Kanefsky said. “Those people include many who are Jews and includes people who are not Jews.”

Back downstairs at the Russian lunch, a homeless Jew in his 20s, Andrew, who would only give his first name, said a prayer in Hebrew. Later, he made his way upstairs and explained that this was his first lunch. He intends to come back. 

“It means love and togetherness,” he said. “It was beautiful.

Tikkun olam lunches nourish those in need Read More »

Plan for future pitfalls

Changes in the economy and workforce have taken their toll on baby boomers, a generation that carries a longer life expectancy than its predecessors as well as the financial burdens that come with it.  

People are working longer and retiring later in life. Possible cuts in government spending could result in reduced payouts to Social Security and Medicare, making things even more challenging. 

The good news is that while boomers may have less time to weather the ups and downs of the stock market than younger investors, it’s not too late for them to plan for their financial future. In doing so, experts suggest considering not just financial goals, but one’s values and the type of lifestyle one desires.

For those in the “Me” generation counting on a pension, Social Security benefits or some type of mutual funds, make sure in advance that the fund will be enough to maintain a desired standard of living. Otherwise, you may have to consider working past your anticipated retirement age, according to Karen Codman, an investment adviser from Long Beach.

Take into account the fact that you won’t be working. Because of that, you may be tempted to spend more. 

“The conventional wisdom that they hear on the radio is that it’s going to cost so much less when you retire,” Codman said. “I’ve heard estimates between 50 and 70 percent of what it costs now. The reality is you now have 365 days of shopping and travel time, and most people don’t want to reduce their standard of living.” 

When you add this to potential medical expenses, you may find that you actually need more than you originally allocated. 

Ira Cohen, 54, of Long Beach has been a crane operator since 1979 and plans to retire in eight years. He is practicing living below his means now, so that he will be used to living off his pension. 

“Six years ago I had a wake-up call, and I took a look at how I was living and really simplified my lifestyle,” Cohen said. “I’m living today as if I was collecting my pension and trying to save the extra money.” 

And if you are considering retiring early, understand that sometimes it’s better to work until you are eligible to receive full Social Security payments. 

Codman said that if you have an investment portfolio, make sure that it is both diverse and tax-efficient. She advises putting funds that will be needed sooner in life in conservative investments while other money goes to riskier investments. 

Take into account how the monies will be taxed and decide if a Roth IRA fund is right for you. This will allow you to pay the taxes on these accounts up front so you won’t have to worry about it on the back end. This can help keep your tax bracket lower during retirement so your Social Security doesn’t get taxed as much, Codman advises.

Financial adviser Marc Weiss of Archer Weiss Insurance in Woodland Hills said that several of his clients are looking to only make conservative investments due to the uncertainty in the market. 

Some baby boomers also are taking out life insurance policies on their parents with plans to use the death benefits to support themselves later in life, Weiss said.

In general, both financial advisers agree that everyone should meet with a financial adviser instead of basing financial decisions solely on what they read in the paper or hear on the news. One size rarely fits all when it comes to financial planning, 

In addition to your personal financial planning, a customized estate plan is another helpful tool to help avoid problems for loved ones, according to Benjamin A. Brin, an estate planning attorney from Los Angeles.

“You actually already have an estate plan, whether you know it or not,” Brin said. “You’ve got a one-size-fits-all, supposedly free plan from the government called ‘probate.’ ”

Probate court is the process the government uses to transfer ownership of assets. An estate plan circumvents this by providing a pre-arranged transfer of your assets after death. Even if you have a will, you may still have to go through probate, and the only way for Californians to avoid the process entirely is to include a living trust as part of an estate plan. This will save your loved ones money in lawyer fees, time and court dates, as well as a lot of potential discord, Brin said.

One of the most important things to keep in mind when it comes to planning for the future, however, could be knowing the difference between money you can and can’t afford to lose, he added.

“Unless you are a professional investor, then don’t think of savings as investments; think of them as savings.” 

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Making the National Personal

By Matt Shapiro

Yesterday was Tisha B'Av, the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, on which we recognize numerous tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people through the centuries. We are taught that the destruction of the Second Temple, which happened on this day, occurred because of sinat chinam, causeless hatred between one person and another. I’m hearing that message, of how destructive thoughtless hate can be, echoed loudly this week. Over the weekend, with George Zimmerman’s acquittal for the murder of Trayvon Martin, vitriol and vindictiveness are the order of the day. There are those calling for calm, but the eminently personal forums of social media enable our deepest emotions to come to the surface, and the dialogue is ugly. I feel my own desire to respond with rage and fear, the sense of helplessness fueling my desire to speak with anger.

As all this bubbles below the surface, I have an obligation to try to see my part. The words of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel ring in my ears: “in a free society, some are guilty but all are responsible.” This quote disturbs me on a number of levels. The first is superficial, and keeps me where I already am: somebody must be guilty here! Any situation has someone who’s guilty, so we need to hold that person to the fire. But that’s not what this teaching really has to offer me, the lesson that will move me forward. What this thought teaches me is that I too bear some responsibility here. I make judgments against people without thinking, I take action without playing out the consequences, and I hold prejudices and biases that I don’t necessarily work to overcome. As long as I have these parts of myself internally, how can I expect them to be overcome on a societal level?

One of the most frequently cited commandments in the Torah is to care for the stranger, since we were strangers in the land of Egypt. If I truly care for the stranger, not just those who are like me, but also those I would be inclined to see as “other,” then my eyes can be freed from the lens of prejudice, a lesson I need to internalize. Prejudices and biases are inevitably part of how I’ve come to see the world, and this larger situation is a reminder to me of my own obligation to move from a place of fear and distrust to a place of love and acceptance. This applies even and especially with people I might initially see as different from me, “strangers.” If I can’t do this for myself, how can I expect others to do so?

This is troubling for me, to see my own internal responsibility for what I have an obligation to work on, challenges that seem difficult, if not insurmountable. In this moment, I’m blessed to remember the teaching “lo alecha ha'mlacha ligmor, v'lo ata ben chorin l'hevatel mimenah.” This translates roughly to “it's not your job to finish the work, but neither are you free to ignore it.” I don’t have to completely fix myself all in one day, one month, or one year. I do, however, have an obligation to take on the work, one day at a time; otherwise I’m being negligent in what I have to contribute. Each of us can and, in fact are required to, commit to do our part, the work that we each have the capacity to do. Then, we need to try to have faith that what we’re each doing is what needs to done, both individually and collectively.

These texts, and others, help me grapple with the feelings of helplessness and frustration that I’ve been experiencing when I think about these events. This is relevant Judaism, as discussed Making the National Personal Read More »

Chavurah’s diversity keeps it going strong at 43

Los Angeles Jews are often viewed by outsiders as a rootless people, constantly on the move, caged in their cars and with relationships that are both ephemeral and superficial.

Whether or not one buys this thumbnail evaluation, there is at least one exception to the stereotype. It is a chavurah that this year marks its 43rd anniversary with no loosening of the bonds of friendship, long strengthened by joint intellectual explorations.

Even after the passage of more than four decades, the 24 members — eight of whom are from the original 1970 group — show no signs of mental slowdown, though physically the passage of time has left its inevitable marks.

Recently, the chavurah met for its annual weekend retreat, and after a welcoming Kabbalat Shabbat and dinner, the group dug into the meaty topic of “Joseph Soloveitchik and David Hartman: Two Unorthodox Orthodox Jewish Philosophers.”

From Friday afternoon through Sunday morning, participants engaged in five study sessions, led by Bernard Steinberg, vice president of the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America, who also assigned copious reading material.

The Sunday closing session opened with an (unscheduled) poem by Rochelle Ginsburg, which concluded with, “As we deepen our knowledge it’s abundantly clear/ That we’ve just scratched the surface in 43 years/ Our teachers have brought us a long way, we know/ Yet there is no doubt we have a long way to go.”

Lively discussions ensued over whether the injunction to take “an eye for an eye” is to be taken literally or figuratively, as well as the difference between positive and negative freedom, and the weekend concluded with a full-throated sing-out of “Shalom Chaverim.”

The Hebrew word “chavurah” (also spelled havurah) is generally translated as “fellowship” and stands for a small group of like-minded people who come together periodically for joint study of their heritage and for social interaction.

Chavurot, in their present form and purpose, were first established by Rabbi Harold Schulweis at Valley Beth Shalom. They usually evolve among congregants at a specific synagogue, seeking within a congregation a more intimate and focused grouping for religious and social expression.

This chavurah, founded by eight couples in 1970, is different, and not only because of its odd name: The West Los Angeles Profits. That moniker goes back to the group’s early days, when it scheduled a retreat with the study focus on the Jewish Prophets.

“For the weekend, we booked  the San Ysidro Ranch in Santa Barbara, where the management didn’t know from ‘prophets’ and seemed worried that we were some weird religious cult,” said Rochelle Ginsburg, who, with her husband, Eli Ginsburg, was among the founding pioneers.

 “So, in a play of words, we changed ‘prophets’ to ‘profits,’ and the name stuck,” she explained.

 “What makes our group unique, besides its longevity, is that we’re not affiliated with any specific institution and our members are secular, Reform and Conservative Jews,” observed Ginsburg, formerly principal of the Stephen S. Wise Elementary School and assistant principal of Hawthorne School in Beverly Hills

“I don’t know of any other such group, self-financed and dedicated solely to study. Of course we socialize, but we’re not a social club, and although we eat, we’re not an eating club.”

The basic annual schedule has not changed since the group’s formation, with six biweekly sessions between the High Holy Days and Chanukah, six more sessions in the spring, followed by the three-day retreat in May or June.

Chavurah members are mainly active or retired professionals, including academicians, community leaders and lay officers from such prominent, and generally liberal, congregations as the Wilshire Boulevard, Sinai and Emanuel temples and Valley Beth Shalom. The bulk of the membership is from West Los Angeles and Beverly Hills, but a few come from Manhattan Beach and Studio City.

Members contribute to cover the chavurah’s expenses, including substantial fees for the speakers and such retreat venues as Breuer Conference Center at Camp Hess Kramer.

The list of some 60 session leaders and speakers since 1970 reads like a who’s who of the region’s rabbis and scholars, with the standard set by the late Harold Friedman, former executive director of Temple Emanuel, a scholar, historian and the go-to session leader during the chavurah’s first two decades.

At the conclusion of the recent retreat, nine of the most veteran and active members met with a Journal reporter to explore the chavurah’s secret of longevity and its prospects for the future.

 Sitting in an informal semicircle in the living room of a Beverly Hills home, the participants included both Ginsburgs — Eli Ginsberg is an endocrinologist; veteran community leaders and philanthropists Abner and Roslyn Goldstine; and Gerald (Jerry) Bubis, an elder statesman of Jewish communal service and of the Israel peace camp, along with his wife, Ruby.

Also present was Sally Shafton, the group’s chief organizer, who, with her husband, attorney Bob Shafton, was among the group’s early prime movers; community leader Rhea Coskey; and Kurt Smalberg, past president of Sinai Temple and one of the group’s more recent members.

Some of the founding members reminisced about the changes in the chavurah and in their own lives over 43 years. At the first meetings, all were young couples building their careers and families, while now their ages range from the early 70s to the late 80s.

By virtue of the chavurah’s long history and its members’ standing in the community, the group does not lack for potential new members or speakers, who are selected mainly through personal recommendations.

In that sense, “We’re a kind of ‘secret’ society,” Sally Shafton said. “I’ve dropped out of other Jewish groups because of the pettiness and infighting. Here we have total respect for each other. We want to hear what the other person has to say.”

Among the veteran members, the incentives for joining and staying with the chavurah varied in emphasis but frequently hit the same general points in remarks occasionally paraphrased and shortened in this article.

Jerry Bubis argued that “there is nothing like it in this city. We’ve never settled for mediocrity in our speakers and discussions — we want them both to be provocative.”

Abner Goldstine noted that “we all lead busy lives, but the chavurah is one of our highest priorities.”

Guest scholar Bernard Steinberg saw the chavurah as an extraordinary and ideologically diverse group whose members want to get out of their comfort zones, which “is not very common in education.”

There was considerable discussion around the circle when asked what was the highlight in the chavurah’s long journey, but the popular choice was the group’s 25th anniversary trip to Israel in 1995, led by Jerry and Ruby Bubis.

 “We really worked to expand our boundaries, to hear different political views and get out of the UJA [United Jewish Appeal] bubble,” Jerry Bubis said. “We met not only with a wide range of Israeli opinion makers, but also with those in the Palestinian territories and Jordan.”

Amid the chavurah’s activities, “Our constant focal point is to learn – all other aspects are fringe benefits,” Rochelle Ginsburg summarized, while for Eli Ginsburg it’s learning what it means to be Jewish.

Through their chavurah studies and experiences, many members feel that they have raised their children’s and grandchildren’s Jewish identification and outlook.

However, in contrast to the aims of most Jewish groups, the chavurah does not plan to perpetuate or replicate itself.

“We never really planned to create a permanent institution,” Rochelle Ginsburg said. “ But perhaps we can serve as a model for others in this or the next generation.”

In the meantime, the chavurah is focused on the immediate future. Arrangements are already in place for the first fall session, when David Myers, chair of UCLA’s history department, will return to launch the chavurah into its 44th year. 

Chavurah’s diversity keeps it going strong at 43 Read More »

World of Flavor

Every two years, the Culinary Institute of America hosts its World of Flavors conference in its castle-like Napa Valley compound.

Some of the planet’s best chefs show up, along with food purveyors from across the globe, and the endless meals, spread out in a massive hall lined with wine casks the size of Spanish galleons, each revolve around a single educational theme, so that the attendees — institutional food vendors, manufacturers, restaurant chains, journalists — can deepen their understanding about one aspect of food, and in turn use that knowledge to impress, entice and engorge you, the ever-hungry consumer.

Last year’s subject: spices.

I went — first, because I knew I would get to eat some of the world’s best food and wine in the company of great chefs over two crisp fall days in Napa, and second, because the World of Flavors is a stealth United Nations.  It quietly, consistently, draws chefs from countries and cultures that otherwise are in conflict, if not active warfare.  I scanned the roster and found chefs straight from, or originally from, Iran, Egypt, Greece, Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, and, yes, Israel. 

World of Flavors is a kind of chefs sans frontiers, where cooks come to cook and learn from other cooks—and they bat away questions about politics from people like me.   It’s a cliché—but one that I never get tired of– that food can break barriers.  But in  Napa, I actually began to see how, and it had exactly to do with the subject of this particular conference.

Chefs from Italy, Sri Lanka, Iran and Israel, divided by culture, religion, distance, and even by cuisine, nevertheless all share a common language — spices.

It turns out those fragrant ingredients haven’t just inspired cooks, they have shaped history and culture. We are the beneficiaries of an ancient spice trade that started millennia ago, with no concern for modern borders.  The arc of flavor began in the far-off, exotic spice-producing countries and spread to Europe, China and the New World.

Not that the process was always pretty.  The Dutch decided to take over the West Indies clove and nutmeg trade, and in doing so massacred entire islands full of people. The Spaniards plundered tropical America and returned to Europe with chilis and chocolate. 

But the upshot was the beginnings of Tom Friedman’s flat world.  Most of the world’s basil, which is indigenous to India, now comes from Egypt’s Nile River valley.  Most herbs come from the Mediterranean, home to 17 species of oregano. Dutch food is inflected with Indonesian spices.

“The ramifications of the spice trade are that the world came together through food,” according to Michael Krondl, author of “The Taste of Conquest: The Rise and Fall of the Three Great Cities of Spice,” who was a featured speaker at the conference.

On the second floor of the CIA’s Greystone headquarters, a historic castle-like property in St. Helena, chefs from around world took over the stations of a gleaming, cavernous kitchen and proved Krondl’s point, dish by dish.

I was most curious, for obvious reasons, about the Middle Eastern chefs. I wandered over to demonstrations by cookbook author Joan Nathan and the Israeli chef Erez Komarovsky.

“From Thailand to Israel every dish begins with onion, garlic, and chili,”Komarovsky said.

For a dish of baby cauliflower stuffed with lamb, he added spoonfuls of cumin, cinnamon and clove, all of which he ground by hand.  The room filled with fragrance.

Fragrance, rare and familiar, was everywhere.   Singaporean Indian chef/author Devagi Sanmugam brought kapok blossoms and stone flower, a lichen that grows inside wells, from Singapore. Musa Dagdeviren—the Turkish Emeril Lagasse– made a lamb and eggplant dish flavored with cumin, lamb fat—loads of it — a slab of butter and a sun-dried Turkish chili called marash.  Marash, mark my words, will be the chipotle of 2014.

In another room,  Khulood Atiq, one of the first professional female chefs in the United Arab Emirates, was preparing a typical Emirati spice blend:  dried lemon, cumin, coriander, and fennel.  Outside, Moroccan chef Mourad Lahlou prepared a rub for lamb shoulder: saffron and cumin blended with soft butter.

“In Morocco,” he said, “food and cooking is about memories, looking back more than looking forward.”

Back inside, Yotam Ottolenghi, chef and author of the best-selling “Jerusalem: A Cookbook,” made a kind of shakshouka with ground lamb and harissa — yes, there was a lot of lamb everywhere — while chef Greg Malouf, whose family is Lebanese, looked on, and traded notes.

As the dishes piled up, the conflicts that bedevil cultures seemed to whither under the relentless sensual assault of fragrance and flavor.  The chefs ran from their own classes to taste dishes prepared by their fellow chefs.

I stood beside a Thai chef as we  sampled ‪Djerba chef Abderrazak Haouari’s chickpea sous vide egg, harissa, olives, capers and croutons.  It was the best breakfast dish you’ve never heard of. “I want to hug him,” the Thai chef said.

Spices, so often acquired in conflict, now serve as a bridge among cultures.   If only we all understood what chefs do:  It would be a dull world, indeed, without the strange, the new, the different.

“You almost think,” Ottolenghi said, “a little lemon juice would solve all the world’s problems.”

 

Read my last column on the 2009 conference here.

There is a ridiculously small fee ($7.99) to watch the videos from the conference.  They are 1000 times more educational than the Food Network.  The link is here.

[RECIPE]

Harous

Chef Abderrazak Haouari uses this Djerban version of harissa on sous vide eggs, served with chickpeas, capers, croutons and olives.   It is brick red and warmly hot:  great with fish, eggplant, chicken.

Makes 1/2 cup.

1 medium onion, very thinly sliced

Pinch of turmeric

2 tablespoons kosher salt

4 ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded

3 dried chipotle chiles, stemmed and seeded

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

1/2 teaspoon ground caraway seeds

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

Pinch of cinnamon

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

In a shallow bowl, toss the onion slices with the turmeric and salt. Cover the onion with plastic wrap and let stand overnight at room temperature.

Meanwhile, heat a cast-iron skillet until hot to the touch. Add the anchos and chipotles and toast over moderate heat, pressing lightly with a spatula until the chiles are very pliable and fragrant, about 1 minute. Transfer the chiles to a work surface and let cool completely, then tear them into 1-inch pieces. In a spice grinder, coarsely grind the chiles.

Drain the onion slices in a strainer, pressing hard to extract as much liquid as possible. Transfer the onions to a food processor and pulse until pureed. Add the ground chiles, coriander, caraway, pepper and cinnamon and process to a paste. With the machine on, gradually add the olive oil and puree until fairly smooth.

The harous can be refrigerated for up to 6 months.

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Father and daughter at the Wall: Amid whistles, prayer endures

On July 8, Rabbi Adam Kligfeld, senior rabbi at Temple Beth Am in Los Angeles, attended a Woman of the Wall prayer service at the Western Wall in Jerusalem with his 11-year-old daughter, Noa. The Journal asked them to write about the experience, each from their own perspective.

I went to the Women of the Wall’s monthly prayer service at the Kotel. I had been there in February, standing in the men’s section to join the group protecting the women in the back-left section of the women’s section from potential eggs, chairs and slurs coming from Charedi men. I came back this time with my mother and my 11-year-old daughter, Noa. Several things amazed me about this visit on different ends of the emotional spectrum.

All the (legitimate) critique of the police and government aside, they closed off a major one-way artery outside of the Old City to permit busses ferrying Women of the Wall (WOW) participants, traveling in the opposite direction, to drop us off right inside the Dung Gate. That itself is worthy of praise. 

[Read the other side of this story here: “Battle of the heart” by Noa Kligfeld]

Alas, we were outgunned. Or, should I say, out-bussed. Charedi busses brought thousands of yeshiva girls to the Kotel, one hour before we arrived, who completely filled up the women’s side. Credit them for an effective maneuver, though I can see this devolving into a war of alarm clocks rather than a battle of ideas: They arrived at 6 a.m. this time … we’ll get there at 5 a.m. next time! 

The result was that for the first time in nearly 25 years, WOW participants never reached the part of the Kotel designated for prayer. Our service took place in the back-right courtyard, adjacent to the parking lot. And yet there was some sweet lemonade squeezed from those bitter lemons: With nowhere else to go, the men and women there prayed together in a fully egalitarian, mixed-”seating” (“standing”?) minyan. And instead of having to merely conjure it, I got to see the earnestness on my daughter’s face as she attempted kavanna — focus — amid the cacophony of boos and heckles. As I looked around, I saw that many of us had successfully drowned out the intrusions and focused on one thing only: prayer. 

But the sounds and images I will most remember from this Rosh Chodesh Av were those of whistles — shrill, inflammatory, intended as interruptions between the prayers of Jews and the heart of heaven, and yet ultimately impotent. Several Charedi women positioned themselves as close to our minyan as possible. They stood there for over an hour, closed their eyes to our display of idolatry, wrenched up their faces to focus their efforts, and they blew whistles. They blew and they blew. My left ear heard a young American girl read verses from the Torah out of a book, in the absence of a Torah scroll, to celebrate becoming bat mitzvah, as my right ear was assaulted by a whistle that brought me back to 10th-grade phys ed. My left side was embraced by the harmonies of Hallel while my right side tried to ignore the ignorable — the loud shrieks of anger, hatred and suspicion. My left side was davening while my right side was going deaf even as it ached for temporary deafness. I studied one whistler’s face. What motivated her? What neshama (soul) informed all those powerful neshimot (breaths) she blew? Would she ever stop?

And then it hit me — an avalanche of certainty and optimism. An epiphany filtered through a story from my religious education. When I was a student at his Yeshivat Hamivtar, I once asked Rabbi Chaim Brovender, an extraordinary teacher and tzadik who courageously began teaching Talmud to women in the face of threats of excommunication from fellow Orthodox rabbis, whether one could whistle on Shabbat. He looked at me quizzically, and then gave me an answer I will never forget: “I can only answer that question by quoting my grandmother: A yid fiyf nit. A Jew doesn’t whistle. It’s meaningless. A waste of time. Sunday. Wednesday. Shabbes. Why are you whistling? Go do something productive. Go study Torah. A Jew doesn’t whistle.”

But we do pray. And prayer will triumph.

A shrill whistle cannot be maintained. It eventually will lose steam, because ultimately it stands for nothing, for a vacuum, for vacuous hot air. But prayer pierces through boundaries. And the Torah of pluralism, embedded in the very sacred texts both we and the Charedim hold so dear, lives through the undying breaths of those who have embodied it, believe it today and will never stop praying. One can only whistle for so long. But prayer endures. 

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