Parshat Tetzaveh - LJ Thought for the Week

One of the most memorable Bat Mitzvah gifts I received was my first tallit. My godmother took me to Golub’s, in the East End, and bought me a traditional white silk tallis with light-blue stripes and thin silky tsitsit. She also gave me a royal blue velvety silk-lined bag, with “tallit” embroidered on it in gold thread, within which to keep the tallit. I was the first woman in our synagogue to wear one during services, but not for long. The congregation was not yet ready for such a practice, and I was shamed into leaving it in its beautiful bag.

 

We don’t often talk about what Jews in the pews wear during services, but most communities have requirements for what should be worn on the bima by those who lead and who have mitzvot. This week’s portion Tetzaveh is very specific regarding the clothing of the priests. Moses is told to make bigdei kodesh for his brother Aaron, holy garments “for dignity and splendour.”[1] These garments are “a breastpiece, an ephod, a robe, a fringed tunic, a headdress and a sash”. [2] For 40 verses the Torah describes the materials used, their colours and the design of these clothes. It’s unlikely that the author of this text is an ancient Suzy Menkes, commenting on the fashion of the times, so why does our portion go into such detail?

 

The concept of hiddur mitzvah derives from Rabbi Ishmael’s comment on the verse “This is my God and I will glorify Them.”[3] He says:

 

“Is it possible for a human being to add glory to their Creator? What this really means is:  I shall glorify God in the way I perform mitzvot. I shall prepare before God a beautiful lulav, beautiful succah, beautiful tsitsit, and beautiful tefillin.”[4]

 

Adding to the beauty can add to the holiness of a ritual act. The beautiful Mishkan built from heartfelt offerings would be served by priests robed in stunning vestments, and this would enhance the glory of God.

 

The Temple is no more. But there are synagogues. There are no more priests making sacrifices on our behalf. But we are in the sanctuary praying. We expect those on the bima to be dressed appropriately, but what about the rest of us, down in the seats?

 

In the book of Numbers, God says:  “Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make tsitsit for themselves.”[5] This commandment was not for men, it was not for priests, it was not only for people on the bima. So when I was studying in Israel, my father came to visit, and took me to Gabrieli’s, in Jaffa, and bought me a large white woollen tallit with white stripes and thick woollen tsitsit. With a matching bag. And I began to wear it to services, alongside all the other people in the sanctuary.

 

Throughout history human beings have understood that what we wear influences our relationship with others and with ourselves. Our tendency, though, is to focus more on how we look rather than how we feel. Might we reconsider how ritual garments could help us feel more prayerful, and maybe find spiritual connection?

 

Nowadays I prepare young people for their Bat and Bar Mitzvah ceremonies. The first prayer that we study is for putting on a tallit. We wrap ourselves in the material, making a tent that marks a boundary between the world outside and the personal space within which we will explore our relationship with God while we pray. Then we lower the tallit gently onto our shoulders, so we may feel its embrace in the sanctuary, our sacred place of prayer. This is how the students will begin the worship service on that special day, and hopefully other prayer experiences throughout their lives.

 

We are all Children of Israel. There are no more priests, but there are still bigdei kodesh, holy garments. Let us come together, online or in person; and let us pray together, wrapped in our own beautiful, holy garments of worship.

---

[1] Exodus 28:2

[2] Exodus 28:4 

[3] Exodus 15:2

[4] Midrash Mechilta, Shirata, chapter 3, ed. Lauterbach, p25

[5] Numbers 15:38

Mohn Mohn MOHN

Purim is a festival of fun. It takes place at a similar time of year to Carnevale and Mardi Gras - and for one day we are encouraged to turn things upside-down. We read the story of Queen Esther and how she foiled evil Haman' (BOOOOOOOOOOO!)s plot to destroy the Jewish people. We may have a drink or two. We might put on fancy-dress (US:  costume). And (lockdown permitting) we make little care packages for friends and neighbours.

Hamantaschen (H's pockets, or his ears, or his hat) is a traditional pastry, here shown with a traditional poppyseed (aka mohn) filling. On other pages I have ranted about the myriad other fillings that people have created. Everything from apricot jam to spinach (two of my favourite comestibles, just not as hamantaschen filler). However, today I awoke to the scent of baking, and arrived in the kitchen to find these beauties on the counter. My beloved's first go at making them, and each and every one is filled with mohn. Grazie!

Chag Purim Sameach!!

Put in my Place by Wikipedia

Catching up on my Only Connect episodes, I was quite chuffed the other day when VCM responded to an answer being "The Star of David on the Israeli flag" by calling it a "Mogen Dovid" in a lovely Ashkenazi accent.

Cut to just now, watching a quarter-final wall, and 'shofar' is included as a Brass instrument. My dudgeon immediately raised to a very high point, I was all ready to e-mail the show (possibly to offer to be VCM's rabbinic consultant for all future eps) and point out that a ram's horn is not made of brass. However, a small voice in a corner of my mind suggested that maybe I should check before foolishly rushing in.

From the Wiki entry on "Brass instrument":

"A brass instrument is a musical instrument that produces sound by sympathetic vibration of air in a tubular resonator in sympathy with the vibration of the player's lips. Brass instruments are also called 'labrosones' or 'labrophones' from Latin and Greek elements meaning 'lip' and 'sound'.

The view of most scholars (see organology) is that the term "brass instrument" should be defined by the way the sound is made, as above, and not by whether the instrument is actually made of brass. Thus one finds brass instruments made of wood, like the alphorn, the cornett, the serpent and the didgeridoo, while some woodwind instruments are made of brass, like the saxophone."

Schooled. My apologies to VCM & Only Connect for doubting you.

What a Wonderful Gift!

Wednesday afternoons I teach an English conversation class to a group of 20 11-year-olds as part of an after-school programme. It is tough for them - under Covid conditions, and all day in the same spot in the classroom for lesson after lesson - and then when everyone else gets to go home, they have to stay for two more hours, in the same place, and study English! 

Today was a particularly difficult day for several students, and I struggled to remain patient. Then one of the students, one who always has a tough day, usually shredding reams of paper over and around his desk, or making complex origami stars with glue and scissors, or just physically bouncing up and down in his defined space, handed me the drawing he had been doing. You can see it above - his view of me during class (he said doing the trousers was really difficult).

What a fantastic drawing - I love it! And what a way to melt my heart and diffuse the frustration that had built up during the class. What a wonderful gift!

Yom HaBlintz!

It's Pancake Day today! In the Xian religion it is known as Shrove Tuesday, and here in Italy it is Fat Tuesday (or Carnevale). Shrove Tuesday is the last day before Lent begins, a period of self-examination for the purpose of spiritual growth that leads up to Easter. This period is often marked by fasting, and "Fat Tuesday" is thus the last day of eating rich food. 

Clearly I am not following a religious tradition (although any chance to become more self-aware and make teshuvah for my mistakes is always welcome), but I am following a cultural tradition and a family one too.

Growing up in the UK, Pancake Day was such a part of the general culture that they made TV commercials about it (the traditional flavouring was lemon juice, so the JIF lemon juice company had a slogan - don't forget the pancakes on JIF Lemon Day!). And it was a tradition that my late mother loved to follow. She made the lightest crepes, and for the last decade of her life the two of us always celebrated together. Last year was the first Pancake Day without her, and so I learned to make them myself. One year later, I think I will have another go, and remember the sweetness of her pancakes, and of our times together at the kitchen table.

Piglet Retrospective VII

Thinking about loss, and anger ... this week I attended a funeral and shiva prayers for Rosita Rosenberg & Walter Kammerling. They were not people to whom I was especially close, but each played a positive part in my life and work. I was greatly touched by the love with which they were memorialised. 

Somehow, this moved me to reach out to another mentor, who broke off our relationship in anger many years ago. I read recently that she is unwell, and sent her a message this evening. It wasn't so easy - I was afraid she would still be angry, & she is a passionate person. Then I thought, what's the worst that could happen? If she doesn't want to reconnect, that's how it will be. So I wrote.

In this frame of mind, today I share a Piglet pic from Disneyworld c. 2006. I am usually very clear that I do not like the Disney version of Winnie the Pooh characters, and am utterly loyal to E.H. Shepard's designs. Piglet himself, however, decided to connect universes that were formerly parallel, as seen here when he posed with Eeyore, Pooh & Tigger during our visit. My ears should hear what my Piglet is saying. Reach out if you still have the possibility.

Rosita Rosenberg z"l

Rosita Rosenberg has died. Tributes are beginning to appear as the news gets out, e.g., the Jewish News, where she is described as "Liberal Judaism's pioneering first female head." Only last week they featured her in their "120 over 80" section highlighting the "Golden Generation" of the UK Jewish community. And Liberal Judaism has posted here, noting that "Rosita was greatly loved, her legacy has touched many."

What can I say? She was a wonderful woman, loved and respected by so many of us. She dedicated so much of her energy to the building and development of Liberal Judaism. And she was funny, forthright and passionate about her interests. I will miss her.

My love and condolences to her daughter Sallie, someone I have rarely met, but about whom Rosita would always tell me! May Rosita's memory be a blessing.

Here's a link to the Hakol newsletter of TLSE celebrating a special birthday of Rosita's.

Piglet Retrospective VI

 

I miss the Tube. I even miss the Northern Line. The idea of public transport being a safe way to travel seems so far away. So here is a picture of Piglet on the platform at Highgate, waiting for the train to Finchley Central. In fact, this is probably what the station looks like as you regard the photo - empty. (If people in Italy ever get vaccinated) I do hope to use the Underground again. Stay safe & well y'all.

RIP Captain Sir Tom Moore

Sad news from the UK this afternoon as the death was announced of Captain Sir Tom Moore. Yet another victim of the dread coronavirus. If you don't know his story, please look it up - here is a link. In a few short months, during a dark time in the community, he lifted the hearts and spirits of so many people.

The obituary in the Times today concluded with these words:

"Moore, who could offer no recipe for his own longevity, declared simply that he lived believing "tomorrow is going to be better than today, even if today was a good day". As for the risk of catching coronavirus himself, he was pragmatic. "If I get it, I get it, I'm not worried at all," he said. "You have endless chances of dying, in the end everyone has a turn, it has to happen sometime."

Thank you for your service, Captain Sir Tom. Rest in peace.

 

Piglet Retrospective V

It's February already? Wow. Let's start the month with a bit of February fun. This photo is from a visit to Graceland. This is one of the entrance gates whence you walk up to the house. Can you spot Piglet? & can you spot me?!

I think I need to make this a twofer, as there's a second shot that goes with this one. Apart from looking around the house itself, it is also possible to visit Elvis's grave. Here is Piglet paying homage:

Nu, after taking this photo, I picked Piglet up, put him back in my pocket, and headed towards the exit (the Union flags weren't mine so I left them there. Lucky coincidence). I was all shook up to realise that I was being chased by a security guard, and even more surprised to learn that she was accusing me of stealing Piglet from the graveside. Luckily, there were some photos of Piglet in other places on the memory card of the camera so I could prove that I'd had him with me beforehand. So the guard enjoyed the slideshow, then sent me on my way.

Happy February y'all!

Piglet Retrospective IV

 

Just another pig in the crowd, eh? QPR are live on Sky again tomorrow, so the nation and fans across the world will be able to see how we do. We don't have a great record on tv, but who knows. Part of the beauty of football is that anything is possible when the whistle is blown to start the match!

In this pic Piglet is in the Upper Loft with me. I think we might have been playing Chesterfield, but can't quite remember. Looking forward to the time when it will be safe to do this once again!

With a Little Help From My Friends

As you may remember, I do love watching Jewish & Biblical figures playing top-level football. This is a picture of Moses (Victor Moses, then of Stoke City, now I believe recently moved from Inter to Spartak Moscow on loan from the Stamford Bridge folk). And a QPR player (no idea if any but hardcore R's even remember this chap). 

The Torah portion we studied this morning, whose central event is the miracle at the Sea of Reeds, has two images of Moses connected to it that seem quite relevant at the moment. The first comes from midrash - when the Egyptians were about to attack - as R. Adam Greenwald tells it:

"The Israelites gathered at the water's edge, and Moses lifted his hands as God commanded ... and nothing happened. The sea remained still ... then, out of the crowd, walked a solitary figure:  Nachshon, the son of Aminadav, stepped into the water. His family and friends looked on with horror and amazement. They cried:  "What are you doing? Where are you going?" Nachshon walked forward like a man possessed - up to his knees, his waist, his chest. The second the water came up just over his nostrils, the second when he is fully submerged, at that moment and not a second before, the sea split."

I do think this is important for us to consider in our current turbulent times. Do we stay where we are, paralysed by fear of what may happen? Or can we find the courage not only to take a first step, but to keep going? Nachshon appeared to be bonkers. But he was also brave. 

Of course Nachshon, who isn't mentioned at this point of the Torah portion himself, worked alone. There is another perspective presented in the text at the end of the portion:  Moses instructs Joshua to lead the Israelites in battle against Amalek. During the fight, Moses plans to be on the top of a hill, holding the staff of God in his hand. 

So Joshua went into battle, and Moses went up the hill, accompanied by Aaron & Hur. When Moses' hand was up, Israel prevailed; but when his hand went down, then Amalek was on top. So his companions helped him. First they found a stone upon which he could sit, and then they stood either side of him, supporting his hands so they could remain steady until Joshua had won the battle.

This is what is written in our ancient text. And this is what it taught me today:  sometimes we may be Moses, with a difficult task to do; and if possible, it's a pretty good idea to bring back-up with us. And sometimes we may be Aaron or Hur, supporting our friends and helping them through a difficult time. 

With thanks to all who support me, and the hope that any support I offer may be helpful.

Shavuatov. Have a good week.

Dancing in the Rain

Do you see what I see? A couple of years ago I spent quite a while photographing raindrops bouncing off the windowsill by my desk. This pic is a bit grainy, I know, but I am convinced that the mass of drops in the middle looks like a person in a skirt twirling around. It looks to me like they are dancing. 

With all good wishes for a joyous Shabbat.

 

Teaching the Shoah to Younger Students

Yesterday in Italy we observed il Giorno della Memoria, aka Holocaust Memorial Day or Holocaust Remembrance Day. I was asked recently why this day exists when we already have Yom HaShoah. My response was that Yom HaShoah is an observance within the Jewish community, when we mourn our families. Perhaps one might say it is like a communal yahrzeit. 

HMD is for all communities of the world, and for all victims of Nazi evil. In my experience, it is much more connected to the concept of memory as an educational tool, which certainly includes paying one's respects to the victims, but really focuses on the more universal aspect of how to fight intolerance and hatred.

Once a week I go to a local state/public school and at the end of the school day I teach 2 hours of English language conversation to 19 children in the First class (c. age 11). They've just finished their first term of regular English lessons in the school, so our vocabulary is a little limited. However, since our weekly lesson fell on the exact date of HMD, with the support of the regular English teacher, we decided to devote yesterday's class to the Shoah.

It was quite a challenge to figure out how to present something appropriate for their age and language skills. But their teacher was quite excited to have me as a resource - I am the first Jew that any of the children have ever met (or, as young G. noted, as far as they know!). We have spent the last couple of lessons learning about family relationships ('niece' & 'nephew' use the same word in Italian as 'grandchildren', i.e., 'nipote'. This has been very confusing for them!), so I decided to tell them the stories of two of my relatives, using their experiences as prompts for further discussion.

The video above is the slideshow/Powerpoint presentation I used as a prompt for our class. V., the regular teacher, sat with us and translated when necessary. Even though this was supposed to be an English lesson, it was important she was there, and I was most grateful.

I think the lesson went quite well. The students had spent the previous 3 hours studying the Shoah, as mandated by the state. And last week I also spent a little time in our class preparing for the discussion. The spectrum of knowledge was broad, ranging from someone who could quote Anne Frank's Diary to someone who didn't know what a Jew was. So we did some basic history. For the main lesson, I had two concerns - how to present the horror without being too horrible, and - and this was the biggie - to address why they need to study this. Why should an 11-year-old kid from Modena care about what happened to an old woman from Chodziez a gazillion years ago?

Nu, you can see in the video how I tried to deal with it all. In very simple English. At the end there are photos of my parents with Otto Frank - I had mentioned a family connection and promised to bring the pics to show them. I thought that would be all, and then I was surprised and touched to be presented with a card that the children had made for me, and some of the pictures they had drawn.

Afterwards I had a quick word with the teacher and offered to work together for next time so that there might be a curriculum for the school. Apparently they got a letter with links to some videos to be watched and the command that creative work such as drawing and writing poems must be encouraged. I would love to help them develop something more structured. There was a positive verbal response, so we shall see ...!

RIP Cloris Leachman

Cloris Leachman lived a long and productive life. When her death was announced today, her son said (according to TMZ) that "she had the best life from beginning to end that you could wish for someone," and "she left everyone with a lot of love." Who would not wish for an epitaph like that?

Leachman had a long and storied career on stage, screen and TV. She won an Oscar, and a record-setting 8 Emmy awards. She also holds the record for Emmy nominations with 22 of them. And she is currently the oldest person to have competed on Dancing With the Stars (the US version of our beloved Strictly), placing 7th in 2008 when in her early 80's.

The Mary Tyler Moore Show is one of my all-time favourites, so I certainly appreciated Leachman's portrayal of Phyllis, Mary's landlady. However, like so many others, the first memory that always comes to mind is of the magnificent Frau Blücher in "Young Frankenstein". When searching for a clip to illustrate this character, I found the Italian version above. I've never seen it before, and had a good laugh, especially at Marty Feldman's final line. Enjoy.

[ok ok, a slightly different collection of clips, but in English!]

Piglet Retrospective III

 

Today is Holocaust Memorial Day. Piglet visits The Empty Library memorial created by Mischa Ullman. 

In memory of all who suffered, with the hope that one day soon we will actually learn from the past, and eradicate the fear and hatred that causes such pain.

Shavuatov - A Good Week to All

Yesterday evening, as I was scratching Sara the Cat in a favourite place near her ear, she put her paw on my arm. The unusual thing was that when I moved my arm momentarily and her paw slipped off, she put it back. I felt somehow comforted by this. It was as if she was saying "Yihiyeh tov." ("Things will be better") It's a great way to start the week. Shavuatov everyone, have a good week!

Stupid is as Stupid Does

So the EarDoc told me to go and get a spray to help protect my ear for the moment. It had to be ordered (suggesting they don't have much call for it), but the lovely ladies at the Farmacia Beata Vergine della Salute were, as always, kind and helpful.a Salute

Love the box and the olde-time style. So I took out the bottle and read the instructions, which said I should put the nozzle in my ear and pump the shot directly inside. The paper on which the instructions were written was tiny, without diagrams or photographs.

Am I becoming senile? I look at this nozzle, and cannot for the life of me figure out how I can get it in my ear. Maybe if I turn the bottle upside-down? Does it work like a clip-on earring? No it does not. I'm afraid to push it too far in case the plastic breaks. I go online to see if they have instructions in English. Indeed they do, and they say exactly the same as the Italian version. No images, and I learn a bit about construction work (Boral is a big name in the field of building materials). I sit and look at the bottle on the table, and I haven't got a clue. I'm thinking stupid is as stupid does.

Along comes my beloved. I explain the problem, and she does this:

O dear.

Duh!

(apply appropriate epithet)

And, more than anything, grazie amore!

Bernie Sanders Does it Again

This is a photograph of Bernie Sanders at the Capitol building in Washington DC during the Inauguration of President Biden yesterday. His mittens in particular seem to have captured the interest of folk on social media. NPR suggested that he had won "the Inauguration Day Meme Game". 

And then, one of my colleagues posted a link called "Put Bernie Anywhere" that places this photo in a Google photo of that site.

Greatest Procrastination Device of the Week!

You've got to be careful with the wording of the location, but you can put him pretty much anywhere.

At the Sydney Opera House:

At the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin:

In Pisa:

Also, there's no guarantee that the vista chosen will actually show the object/building/view that you requested. For example, when I entered "Jolly Green Giant statue" (that I visited a gazillion years ago in Blue Earth, MN) I got this:

but there's no view of the big guy that we saw when we drove through Minnesota:

O, and be as specific as you can. When I put "Modena", a city of c. 190k people, with a historic centre full of beautiful architecture, and a nine-hundred-year-old cathedral:

I got this:

Senator Sanders is sitting by the bus stops at the main railway station of Modena. I'm proud that I know this, since I often claim to have become a Modenese, and such knowledge supports that claim!

Anyway, it's a bit of fun connected to the news today. Enjoy. As for me ... PROCRASTINATION, THOU HAST BESTED ME ONCE MORE. I'm off for a nap.

Piglet Retrospective II

 

Today is an auspicious day. In Washington DC leaders are being sworn in, and we can only hope that they will be able to begin the healing process so dearly needed. The last time Piglet was in DC, he demonstrated his desire to be closer to the White House with this selfie, so it seems appropriate to choose it for today's offering. 

Wishing everyone safety and good health, and wishing President Biden and Vice-President Harris strength and courage for the work that lies ahead.

Piglet Retrospective I

In today's English language class we had a discussion regarding the difference between "to cheer" and "to cheer up". A student had bought herself some yellow tulips because it was a grey morning. We then got to dissect the lyrics of "Tulips from Amsterdam", but that's a different post. It occurred to me that somebody somewhere, someone who has not yet encountered the Piglet Series, might be cheered up by some of these old pictures of mine. And thus is born the Piglet Retrospective.

The origin of these photos lies in the gift of Piglet by my youngest sister to her father. He used to travel a lot, and I think she gave him the pig so he would think of her when he was away. He decided to take pictures of Piglet posing wherever their journeys took them. When I became a photographer, and travelled quite a bit also, my father passed Piglet on to me. 

This shot is one of my favourites. I got a High Holyday pulpit in Seattle, and decided to drive there (from Virginia) in order to visit Mount Rushmore and take a Piglet picture. (Reading the Hebrew way ...) President, President, President, President, Pig. Love it!

Happy Martin Luther King Jr Day!

The USA is celebrating a holiday today. Although there are some fears that, with the Presidential Inauguration only two days away, there may be some violent protesting, we can only hope that the memory of Dr Martin Luther King Jr may be an inspiration for work towards healing and civic unity. To this end, I was interested to read on CNN yesterday about the Martin Luther King Day of Service (see here). Americans are encouraged to look at today as an opportunity to engage in volunteer service, rather than binging on Bridgerton.

Meanwhile, here is the annual presentation of the famous photo including my father. This is the more recently discovered version, in which you may see his entire head (+ yarmulke). It is good to have an excuse to share this once again. Hopefully I will continue to make his memory a blessing by developing what he taught us about tolerance and understanding.

On the Way Home

The Wednesday afternoon class that I teach is so terribly afflicted by Covid restrictions - masks on all the time, everyone must stay in their seats, nobody can touch anything touched by someone else, everyone must work individually, etc. After a full day of school these nineteen 12-year-olds are to be commended for not going all Lord of the Flies on me during our 2 hours together, and I am learning what it is possible to teach under such circumstances.

When it's time to go home, the children find a renewed energy and burst out of the doors of the school. I walk home gently, carefully, saving myself for the three flights of stairs at the end of the journey. Today I stopped on the way, by the door of the now defunct Peccati di Gola (Sins of Gluttony) chocolate shop, and watched this cyclist practice the trick of riding along the wall.

The photo is a little out of focus (low light and an iPhone6) but I enjoyed watching, especially that he kept coming back to try again. I have a week to reset myself, and will try again at the school next week!

AJ at Work (1980's style)

A little insomnia once more led to internet wanderings, and just now I chanced upon a brief clip of a football match on the Omniturf at QPR in 1983. Watching R's goals is always cheery, and then imagine my surprise when, as the commentator focuses on a scuffle between our beloved Simon Stainrod and Villa's Peter Withe, I realise that the photographer in front of the elf advertising board is me!

This match was when I got one of my earliest photographers' passes from Ron Phillips, and I think the grainy screenshot above shows the moment I took the picture he printed. I don't have that programme to hand, but found a scan:

This was a bit of afters following some previous scuffles I think. I was quite proud of it at the time. Anyway, the photo has been with me all these years, but it was lovely to see the tv footage of long ago and far away.

Cat Callers

Sara the Cat is an only cat. She was not born without siblings, but once she came to live with us, she rarely saw other humans, let alone other creatures. She has heard the cats next-door through the walls (they might actually be good friends who chat regularly, chi sa?), and smelled them maybe after L came back from looking after them when their flatmates went away. But she is THE only cat, and enjoys it thoroughly.

Today, however, I think was the first time that she met Mocha and Cartesio whisker to whisker. We neighbours were exchanging seasonal conversation on the landing, and Mocha decided to pop her head in our front door, as seen above. After a cautious exchange of sniffing, Mocha then dashed back inside her own home.

Cartesio, however, was not so shy. Sara the Cat had retreated under the bed at the far end of the flat, to recover, I suppose, from the shock of this meeting, and to reflect upon what it all meant. So our marmalade friend swaggered into the living-room, and had a good look round. After inspecting the underneaths of both sofas, he then headed for the bedroom. I heard a sound a bit like crackling gas escaping suddenly from a valve, and ran to see if Sara the Cat was ok. She was fine. Cartesio had vanished.

A few minutes later, L came back from the landing and reported that Cartesio had found his way home. Phew. I guess Sara the Cat was reminding us all of the lockdown, and that now is not the time to make new friends. After all, we are already blessed with her.

Pastor Martin Stöhr z"l

During my end-of-year tidying of files on the desktop, I found this wonderful photo of Pastor Martin Stöhr, Angela Davis & my father. I'm not sure exactly when or where it was taken (or who by) - I'm guessing in the early 1980's, probably in Germany, most likely at an Evangelische Kirchentag. Out of all my parents' friends from their interfaith dialogue in Germany, I think I loved Martin the most. We lost touch a few years ago and, looking at this photo, I wondered if he was still alive. I was sad to find out that he died just a few weeks after my mother. And I remembered a conversation I'd had with my father many years ago, when at a conference where Martin was speaking. "Martin is so kind, and so good, and so smart," I said, "how could he possibly believe in something like Jesus?" My father replied, "did you mean what you said about him? So kind, so good ...?" "Of course!" I responded indignantly. "Well," said my wise father, "if believing in Jesus is part of what makes him into this person that you love, why do you question it?"

I hope I can continue to learn this lesson, going beyond tolerance to acceptance. It's hard to remember, but this photo will help me. I hope that I can bring some of it to 2021, and add to the blessing of Martin's memory.

Desert Island Texts Revisited

 

The princess of procrastination strikes again. During an ambivalent attempt to catch up on some important paperwork, I came across this brief piece written for the column "Desert Island Texts" in the Jewish News back in 2014. Obviously it had to be shared before I could get back to my to-do list. You're welcome.

"Desert Island Texts

Having benched gomel for surviving the stormy waters and making it to the desert island, I would then congratulate the lucky fish that would be wearing my glasses in the future. Since I have inherited my father's dreadful eyesight, the text I desire would have to be one stored in my memory. Since I also appear to have the memory of a Swiss cheese, the text should be short and sweet. What comes to mind immediately is the midrash in which Abraham explains to his father Terah why all the idols in their shop have been smashed. Abraham says that the biggest idol was responsible, and Terah is furious. "Are you making fun of me?" he asks his son, "they cannot do anything, they are just stone and wood!" "Aha!" cries Abraham, "your ears should hear what your mouth is saying!"

Terah was in the idol business, and it was convenient for him to ignore the reality of the situation. His acknowledgement of the inanimate nature of these so-called gods was instinctive, and it was only the shock of Abraham's actions that forced this realisation to the surface. Terah chose not to be conscious of the reality, but the truth was always within him.

So it is for the rest of us. How many false gods do we have that lead us astray, consuming our attention and our energy? How many of us choose to ignore thoughts and feelings that deep down we know are important but may disrupt our comfortable lives? And where will we find the iconoclast who will return us to the heart of the matter?

I choose Abraham. His punchline shocks me each time I hear it. Wherever I am, whatever I do, I carry it with me as a handy mnemonic for those times when I can't see the wood for the idols."

PS and yes that's why I named the blog thusly.

Team Applesauce

Minor health issues meant that our first household attempt at traditional Chanukah latkes had to wait until our digestive abilities had recovered a modicum of strength. That day was today! 

L was also introduced to sour cream for the first time (it is NOT the same as yoghurt), and I made some applesauce. We are now resting on the sofa, thoroughly sated and currently feeling quite proud of ourselves.

As you can see, I am prepared to eat latkes with either topping - the German applesauce of my maternal ancestry and the dairy delight of my father's Polish heritage. If, however, I am forced to choose, then it must be Team Applesauce. Mahlzeit!

The Last Day of Chanukah

When I was young, I asked my father why Chanukah was such a big deal. I'd learned somewhere that the presents were mainly so we wouldn't feel bad about Xmas, which left us with a lot of candles, and fried potato latkes with applesauce. Although we got some chocolate coins from Sunday School, we never played dreidel. I'm not sure why, but most likely because there wasn't a spinning surface available in our flat. The rooms and halls were carpeted, the bathrooms were tiny and the kitchen floor was tiled (which messed up the spin). O, and the dining-table was for dining. And homework.

Along with the historical and religious origins of the festival, my lovely father explained to me that most religions, and a lot of pre-religious cultures, had rituals at this time of year in the northern hemisphere. People were sad and scared because it was dark. They wanted the sun to come back, and tried to encourage this by lighting lights. I thought it sounded a bit primitive. He pointed out that it works. Every year.

Tonight we lit the last of the lights for this year. 2020 is almost done (although, of course, 5781 isn't even half-way yet), and there has been a lot of darkness all over the world during this period. We are scared, and sad, and very very tired. We hope the sun will return. Whether it reappears in the sky or not, each of us still has a Divine spark within, and surely that can and must be a source of light for ourselves and each other, every day we walk through this world.

Chag urim sameach - Happy Festival of Lights.

 

Farewell Dame Barbara

The news that Dame Barbara Windsor has died has really touched me. She was neither relative nor friend, I was just a fan. Unusually, I did actually meet her once. I was called in at the last moment to substitute for a shiva service in North London, for somebody I'd never met. After the service there was a small reception, and although everyone there now knew who I was, I didn't know a soul. And then I recognised her over by the sandwiches. Channelling my late father (who would sail right up to just anyone and introduce himself), I decided to go and say hello. I have always been a fan of the Carry On films (I liked her best in Carry on Spying, her first one I think), but my opening line, in the worst geeky fangirl way, was something like, "My mother would never forgive me if I didn't come and say hello, she is such an Eastenders fan!" Dame Barbara accepted this graciously and we ended up having a really interesting conversation about Hattie Jacques, a comedienne & former colleague from the Carry Ons. It was only a brief chat, but having presented myself in such an awkward way, we were able to have a very normal conversation. Because of this she became real to me, and not just a national treasure I knew from the telly. So I am really sad to hear of her death. She was suffering severely from Alzheimer's, so I'm glad she will suffer no more. My heart is with her family and friends at this time.

BBC report

 

Happy Chanukah!

According to the label, this was my first Chanukah. Most likely in East Hampton, NY, where my dad was the rabbi. It was our first Chanukah as a family. What a fine moment that must have been (I don't remember that much of it tbh!).

There is much darkness at the moment. Tonight, in our families of birth and of choice, we begin a community effort to bring the light back. Join us!

Chag Chanukah sameach!

Dahl Was an Antisemite But His Family is Sorry

An article by Gabriel Pogrund in the Sunday Times today reveals (in a somewhat caustic tone) that although Roald Dahl died an unrepentant antisemite, his family members are a bit embarrassed about that and have put an apology up on the Dahl website.

Pogrund quotes such gems of Dahl's as:

"There is a trait in the Jewish character that does provoke animosity, maybe it's a kind of lack of generosity towards non-Jews. I mean there's always a reason why anti-anything crops up anywhere ... Even a stinker like Hitler didn't just pick on them for no reason." (Roald Dahl in 1983 in an interview with the New Statesman quoted in the Sunday Times - original article not available online)

The article suggests that the apology may have been made in order to protect the Dahl brand, which makes millions of pounds in profits each year. I was also rather distressed to read that some people believe the Child Catcher character added to Ian Fleming's original story of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang reputedly by screenwriter Dahl expressed antisemitic themes and stereotypes in its representation.

Dahl is dead. His descendants have made an apology. I don't think this means we should or can forgive Dahl - that's impossible since he is definitely dead. It is good to know that his family is embarrassed by the prejudice that clearly existed in their famous relative. 

What then might the purpose of the apology be? Why should it not be sincere? Could it be a marketing ploy, as Pogrund suggests? If not, perhaps the family needs to do a little more than bury a brief message on their website (you may find it here). Some kind of visible involvement in the fight against hate speech? Public donations to organisations that teach tolerance? Or maybe even sponsorship of an initiative within the Jewish community. What would Miss Honey say?!