THE FOLLOWING IS MOST OF THE INFORMATION AND ARTICLES FROM THE YEDIDYON, PUBLISHED MARCH 2003


ALMOST READY TO MOVE IN!

By Haim Watzman

Chair, Planning Committee

 

The pressure and the excitement are on. Kehillat Yedidya is making final preparations to move into our new building. The entire community is involved in a battery of committees that have been set up in anticipation of the move.

 

The Capital Campaign Committee is working to obtain the financing we still need to finish the final orders from our contractor. A Maintenance Committee is making plans for the building’s upkeep, a Financial Planning Committee is preparing a budget for the community’s operation in the building, a Kitchen Committee is planning the uses and outfitting of that important room. A Children’s Activities Committee is planning how the building will be used by and for children, and another committee is planning the dedication ceremony.

 

The Planning Committee is working intensively to make a myriad final design decisions. We recently decided on paint colors and the design of the banisters on the ramp, and we are now working with artist and Yedidya member Anne Cromer, whom we have commissioned to design the parochet (donated by the Arbit family), Torah reading table cover (donated by the Mannheim family), and other fabric elements in the building. Interior designer Aliza Arens has presented designs for the ark (donated by the family of Sharon and David Rosen) and the mechitza (donated by the Heller family) and we are now in the process of finalizing the designs of these items. As always, there are last-minute problems we are working to resolve - for example, the city must extend its sewage line to the building, and the recent rains have revealed some leaks that need to be repaired.

 

We’re close enough to finishing that we can extend a warm invitation to all our friends to come visit us in our building during your next trip to Jerusalem. It will be a place where we intend to keep up, and broaden, Yedidya’s long tradition of hospitality.


After serving as editor of the Yedidyon for over six years, Debbie Weissman is stepping down. In her place, the new editor is Noomi Stahl. Noomi, her husband Michael and their children, have been involved with Yedidya for the past ten years. Noomi’s parents, Salomo and Ruth Berlinger, have also joined the community and divide their time between Stockholm and Jerusalem.

 

A native of Sweden, Noomi first came to Israel in 1980 on the Bnei Akiva Hachshara program. After spending a year in the United States as an exchange student at SUNY Binghamton she came back to Israel, studying political science and history at Hebrew University. While working for the Zalman Shazar Center for Jewish History she met Michael, a native Israeli, who had gotten tired of being an electrician and was studying engineering. He now works for Intel.

 

The Stahl’s have four children: Netta, who recently celebrated her Bat Mitzvah at Yedidya, is a 7th grader at the Evelina de Rothschild School; Ella, 10, is a 4th grader at Efrata. The parents and both older children are genuinely tri-lingual: Hebrew, English and Swedish. Yonatan, 8, a 2nd grader at Efrata, was born in the US when the family was in Phoenix for a year. And Avital, the baby, recently turned one year old.

 

In between the children, Noomi has also worked as an administrator for Kehillat Kol Haneshama, and lately for a WHO project called Healthy Cities. Presently, she does some free-lance writing from home. In her free time she is co-chairperson of the Efrata School's PTA.

 

What initially attracted the Stahls to Yedidya was the singing, and not the egalitarianism. Seeing women in tallitot, for example, was jarring at first. "But", says Noomi "I see it as reeducation in the best sense of the word. It took a long time to get rid of old habits, but it worked. Hearing my daughter read her Parasha was one of the highlights of my religious life".

 

Noomi says that Yedidya is a "good middle-of-the-road between ‘feel-good Judaism’ and ‘feel-bad Judaism." Having grown up in a congregation, Noomi also appreciates the community aspect of Yedidya." I didn’t know such things existed in Israel. When someone called us, after Ella was born, and asked if we needed meals, I knew this was the place for us. And through my parents’ membership, a little bit of the Yedidya spirit is even exported to my old shul, in Stockholm". In fact, Noomi and Michael have become so involved with Yedidya that they are joining the Purimshpielers!

 

When asked about the move to our new building, Noomi suggested that since the self-image of many Yedidya members, particularly the older ones, is that of “rebels," some of them may find it difficult to get used to something that "looks like the establishment." Nevertheless, "for me," she says, "the esthetic improvement will bring a spiritual improvement." In addition to the present lack of esthetics, the Stahls feel that Yedidya could do more in the way of outreach to newcomers. But rather than complain, they have decided to become more active

 

As mentioned above, Noomi will be taking over the Yedidyon and hopes to encourage more of the youth to participate in putting out this important vehicle for community expression. And what developed her excellent English? "Mostly reading," she says. "In Israel, I couldn’t find enough books to read in Swedish." We wish her much success with the Yedidyon!


MOSHE ROSENSCHEIN

 

"On Shabbat Parshat Va'Era, Moshe Rosenschein gave a Dvar Torah, a short excerpt from which follows. We think it is appropriate to include it in our Pesach issue, as a thought for the Seder."

 

When we read the verses in Parshat Va'Era: "And I will harden Pharaoh's heart" and "God hardened Pharaoh's heart," we automatically leap to the assumption that the verse means that God, in some divine act, hardened Pharaoh's heart and made sure that he would not send the people of Israel out of Egypt.  However, doesn't this seem a little unfair?  How could God punish Pharaoh and Egypt with the Ten Plagues if Pharaoh didn't even have the option not to transgress?

 

My answer to this is simple.  When the Torah says, "And God hardened Pharaoh's heart" it does not mean that God, using his godly powers, took control of Pharaoh and hardened his heart.  Rather, the way I see it, it means that the idea of God, the notion of the existence of a being that was more powerful than Pharaoh himself -- that was what hardened Pharaoh's heart and stopped him from letting the people of Israel go.

 

So this means that God wasn't doing anything unjust to Pharaoh; he wasn't doing anything at all!  In this case, Pharaoh dug his own grave, and because of his hubris brought disaster onto Egypt.

 

The contrast between Pharaoh and Moshe, who is known for his humility, is something we can learn from. Moshe was known as the humblest of all men.  As his namesake, I hope I will learn from his example.


Marla Bennett, z"l

 

A Few Words About Our Dear Cousin, Marla

By Brian Blum

 

Our cousin Marla came into our lives only two years ago when she arrived in Israel to study at Pardes. But as soon as we found each other, she became a close part of our family in Jerusalem. We both had very little family here, and so finding each other was that much more important. Marla spent countless Shabbatot with us, many chagim, and time at shul as a member of Kehillat Yedidya.

 

It seems that whenever someone leaves us in such a sudden and harsh way, everyone says how special and unique that person was. In Marla’s case, this was really true. She was an amazing person and her loss is a devastating loss to the entire Jewish people. She was always up, always full of energy.

 

Her smile could melt any sadness. She was smart, tolerant, committed to tradition, and embodied the very things the Jewish world and the world as a whole need more of. As a teacher, she would have inspired so many Jewish children towards those values. Her commitment to Tzedaka and helping people were not just words, but really were an integral part of who she was.

 

Marla had a particularly strong connection with our children who loved her deeply. When the parents needed to nap on Shabbat, it was Marla who would hang out all afternoon and play games with them. She made a special effort to come to our daughter’s violin concert; I think the first time she had been in an Israeli elementary school. I remember her sitting with us, the proud parents, just as proud of her 8-year-old cousin. Telling our children about her death was one of the hardest things we’ve had to do.

 

When we went on vacation this summer, we gave Marla the keys to our apartment and car. She was so excited to have a car to use for the month…or maybe it was the access to cable TV for a while! I came back after four weeks from my part of the vacation; Jody and the kids were to stay on in San Diego for another 3 weeks. Marla was flying to see them the very day she was murdered. Before I left, we joked that she and I would cross in the air - as I would be landing literally as she was taking off. Marla’s last email to Jody was - see you on Friday in San Diego. Now they will meet again on Monday under entirely different and tragic circumstances.

 

I have so many wonderful memories of Marla - we would see her almost every Friday when I took the kids to Pizza Sababa - sometimes she would sit and join us, sometimes she would just stop for a minute. Just before we left for vacation, Marla showed us her new apartment; she was so excited. And she had us over for Shabbat lunch where we met her parents. Now Jody has been spending every day with them in San Diego.

 

Marla’s loss is the first for our family. Beyond that, a tragedy such as this puts into perspective our relationship as individuals vs. the national history of the Jewish people. Too often, in the face of difficult times such as those we are experiencing now in Israel, we tend to bury our heads, hoping it will pass over us and our immediate family will get through this on the way to “better” times. But when someone in your family is targeted because she is a Jew, you instantly are thrust into part of the collective Jewish narrative. Your story of tragedy - and also in entirely different circumstances a story of joy or success - becomes part and parcel of the Jewish totality. You can no longer see yourself as just individuals. In this way Marla is not alone, none of us are alone. Our struggle is collective.

 

Indeed, Marla wrote these very words in May in a column she contributed to a San Diego newspaper that has now been widely circulated online. I’ll repeat the critical lines here: “My friends and family in San Diego are right when they call and ask me to come home - it is dangerous here," she wrote. "I appreciate their concern. But there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be right now. I have a front-row seat for the history of the Jewish people. I am a part of the struggle for Israel's survival."

 

Marla had her eyes wide open. She knew why she was here. Maybe that’s why, after such news, my reaction is not that of seeking to flee, to run away to a place perceived to be somehow “safer,” but rather, my conviction to continue in Israel’s struggle is strengthened even further.

 

I have tried to find words of comfort for my children. My message to them over the phone before Shabbat was that the best way to preserve Marla’s memory is to use who she was and what made her special to either change yourselves or change the world. To make yourself a better person - more like Marla - or to help make the world a safer, more giving, more loving place.

 

As they were falling asleep, they didn’t understand exactly what that meant, but I think in time they will. I know that Marla will never be forgotten and that we will cherish our times with her through the actions we take in the future. We miss her so much and she will always be in our thoughts.


Ben Blutstein, z"l

 

Usually, a congregational rabbi has a very hard time discerning whether or not anyone is out there listening. The results of a rabbi's work takes years to bear fruit and often you don’t even know about your successes, especially if you have moved on to other things, such as making Aliyah.

 

Well, if you are really blessed as a rabbi, as I was, the day comes when you get a phone call and on the other end is young man who yells out "Hey rabbi, it's me, Ben. I'm in Israel for the year. When can I come over?" 

 

How can I describe the Naches of having Ben over the past two years? Of spending time with him and getting to know him as an adult and a searching and continually growing Jew.

It is so ironic that only a week before he was murdered, Ben and I sat together outside of Yedidya and promised each other that we would do a better job of being involved in each other's lives. We so much enjoyed talking and being together. I think that we gave each other a measure of comfort - reminding each other of a simpler time living in a place where our big worry was finding the janitor to open up the synagogue door for Mincha.

 

The eclectic young man that Ben was - the pink earrings, the giant Kippa, the shaved head, the Tzitzit, the hip hop or what ever it is called, the Zmirot (singing) with the drumming on the Shabbat table, his intelligence, his warmth - all of this is what made him so incredibly special and unforgettable. 

 

He loved his music. Despite his constant invitations, I never did get to see him as a DJ, although my daughter and I went down to a club to surprise him one Motzei Shabbat, but unfortunately, he was off that night. I thought that I would have plenty of time to see him as a DJ.

 

I met Ben when he was 9 years old, maybe even younger, when his parents began attending our synagogue. They became quite active and brought Ben, and later his infant sister, Rivka, to services, functions, lectures. Everywhere Blut (Ben's father) and Katherine were, Ben was not far away. He was quite a large kid and shy at first. But as he became more comfortable, Ben became quite a fixture in our Shul. I remember one occasion when he attended a Talmud class (most of the people there could have been his great-grandparent). In reaction to one of the arguments we were studying in Masekhet Brachot, 10 or 11 year old Ben yelled out "That's stupid." It did not take long to figure out that Ben was the only one who knew what was going on.

 

A few years later, I had him as a student in Hebrew High. Ben would sit himself in the seat on the right corner of the front row. He would sit there, without a book or pen or notebook, legs spread wide - wrapped around the outside of the desk, with his arms stretched out over the top, drumming along with his hands and feet. He was quite a sight. He would sit there with a devilish smile on his face, which seemed to say, "You think you can teach me something?"   His participation was always unorthodox and his comments always seemed to come from left field. I learned that I needed to take a deep breath and listen carefully; because his words were usually the most worthwhile that anyone would say that evening.

 

I found out from Rabbi Daniel Landes that Ben's mother told him (during Shiva) that after Ben's high school graduation ceremony, a group of African American girls took him aside and gave him a special diploma, crowning him "Honorary Black Chick."

 

Ben was a special, striving, open and accepting person, and he came from such a family. I had the great honor of being with Ben's family on part of their journey through Jewish life. As their rabbi, his parents constantly challenged me, never letting me sit back snuggly after uttering clichés or less-than-thoughtful remarks. After they joined our congregation, I worked harder because they made me. They actually listened to me and wanted to learn and remembered everything I said. They were not easy congregants to have as they were constantly on the move, growing, learning. They taught me that it is easy to find your Jewish plateau and sit on it for the rest of your life. They did not look for a plateau on which to rest, but kept striving and stretching and moving upward and onward. This is the kind of family Ben comes from.

 

I will never forget that horrible July afternoon when Ben's father called me looking for Ben.  Together with other friends and former neighbors in Harrisburg (and also good friends of the Blutstein's), we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening looking for him, calling the hospitals, leaving him messages on his cell phone, speaking with teachers from Pardes. We were in constant touch with Ben's father, keeping him updated on our search, but as the hours went by, we knew that something was terribly wrong. Eventually, the police took one of our friends from Harrisburg to Abu Kabir - the Israeli Forensic Morgue. (I must say that I was very relieved when he insisted on going by himself so that I could continue combing the hospitals). It was about 11pm that we confirmed that Ben was among the murdered. Writing this today, seven months later, still makes me dizzy, as it is still unbelievable.

 

I found out that Ben's father, a pediatrician, was seeing patients when he got the phone call that Ben had been killed. I was told that he continued seeing the sick children even after he heard. I was not surprised. Like Bruria, who kept the death of her sons a secret from Rabbi Meir until after Shabbat, Ben's father held his enormous pain until after he finished his work of healing the sick. It is from this great strength and faith that Ben emerged and blessed us with his short life.

Yehi Zichro Baruch - May his memory be for a blessing.

 

Rabbi Ed Snitkoff

 

(Rabbi Snitkoff was the Rabbi of Congregation Beth El in Harrisburg, PA, and now serves as the Coordinator of the North American Office for the Department for Jewish Zionist Education of the Jewish Agency.


Miscellaneous Items

 

Overheard on Simchat Torah, I: “You have to let your subscribers know that Yedidya is on the cutting edge of Orthodoxy. Many of them don’t know that Orthodoxy has a cutting edge…”

 

Overheard on Simchat Torah, II: “I walked in to the shul on Simchat Torah and got six invitations for lunch!”

 

From the mailbox: After visit by group from Tantur Ecumenical Institute, the Rector of the Institute, Father Michael McGarry wrote: “You don’t know how important that experience was for our group…the warm hospitality and their experience of a strong Jewish community at prayer. Thank you so much.”

 

“Oops, we goofed…” - Mazel Tov to Ayelet and Moshe Cohen on their marriage and not as previously listed.

 

Our own, Dr. Danny Brom - featured in several issues of recent Yedidyonim - was invited to speak at the seminar "Times of Terror, Times of Resilience: A Jewish Response to Catastrophe and Trauma' which took place in February 2003 in New York. Dr. Brom is an expert in dealing with trauma, and serves as the Director of the Israel Center for Psychotrauma at Herzog Hospital in Jerusalem.

 

Edah Conference News - at the Fall conference, September 2002, Kehillat Yedidya had three presenters: 1) Gershom Gorenberg spoke on, “Has the Messianic Element Enhanced or Debased Modern Religious Zionism?”; 2) Debbie Weissman was on a panel about education; and, 3) Danny Kahn chaired session on Jewish Parenting.


BIRTHS

 

Alan and Sheryl Abbey, on the birth of their daughter

Dina Weiner and Dani Kahn, on the birth of a daughter

 

BNEI MITZVAH

 

Devora Deitch, daughter of Sharon Greenblat-Deitch and Dani Deitch

Yoni Harris, son of Yehudit Weiner and Tom Harris

Naomi Goldgraber, daughter of Cheri Fox and Haim Goldgraber

Moshe Rosenschein, son of Jeffrey and Shira

Meital Katz, daughter of Andrea and Hersh Katz

Raviv Finer, son of Maya and Eliezer Finer

Einav Klein, daughter of Menachem and Rivka Klein

Mati Baer, son of Aharon and Mikol Baer

Ephraim Fine, son of Miriam and Jonathan Fine

David Greniman, son of Debbie and Yechiel Greniman

Netta Stahl, daughter of Noomi and Michael Stahl
Michael Amzallag, son of Ellen Berkman-Amzallag and Sami Amzallag (z"l)

Racheli (Greenwald) Silver, daughter of Randi Greenwald and Eli Silver

Elisheva Gorenberg, daughter of Gershom Gorenberg and Myra Noveck

 

MARRIAGES

 

Jessica Brice to Gil Gambash

Keren Dorit Wilensky to Gideon Mais

 

SPECIAL OCCASSIONS

 

Sylvia Hollander, mother of Ben, on 95th birthday

Shira Chadasha on their first anniversary

 

CONDOLENCES

 

Myra Noveck, on the loss of her father

Rafi Rothman, on the loss of his father

Jonathan (Buzzy) Levin, on the loss of his father

To the family of Marla Bennett

To the family of Ben Blutstein

To Blu and Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, on the loss of their son, J.J.

Alan Rosen, on the loss of his father


בפרשת "כי תצא", חגג נועם אביחי-קרמר את בר המצווה שלו. אמו טובה, מנהלת ב"ס "קשת", בירכה במסיבה. אנחנו מביאים בזאת חלק מדבריה:

כל ילד מביא עמו את הברכה שלו.  אני לא אמנה את כל הטוב שהתברכת בו, רק אומר שהנאה ונחת רב  גרמת לנו בתקופה הזאת באופן שלמדת את הפרשה וההפטרה שלך. הזמן  שהקדשת ללמוד עם אבא, המוטיבציה והנחישות שלך להבין את הטעמים ולכבוש אותם, וההנאה הגלויה שלך, הסבו לנו ספוק רב.

 

בימים הראשונים אחרי הפיגוע בהר הצופים היה  קשה לי להתמקד בשמחה הקרבה ובאה.  אבל כוח החיים והחיות חזק  ובהתמסרות סוחפת ניגשנו אבא ואני לטפל בחלקים השונים של השמחה הזאת .

 

היינו רוצים לגדל אותך במציאות אחרת. מציאות שיכולה להעניק  בטחון בקיום היום יומי שלך ושל הלל, כליל ומישאל.  קשה  מאוד לקבל ולהשלים עם היעדר הביטחון שאנחנו  יכולים לתת לכם,  ואני כואבת את העובדה שאתם גדלים במציאות כל כך קשה, מורכבת, וללא מוצא נראה לעין.  אני לא רוצה שתגדל שונא, או צודק באופן בלעדי, בטח שלא  מוכה,  אלא שתוכל לראות את החיים בממדיהם המורכבים, הלא- חד משמעיים. אולי מתוך האהבה המיוחדת שלך להיסטוריה שלנו תוכל להבין זאת.

 

יחד עם הכאב בקיום שלנו בארץ אני רוצה למנות  את השמחה, ולברך על הקיים, להוקיר את האהבה והתמיכה  שאתה ואנחנו מקבלים מן הסביבה הקרובה שלנו: החברים והמשפחה המורחבת הנמצאת אתנו היום. כל אחת ואחד מכם נותן לחיים שלנו נופך וממד מיוחד שממלא את הקיום שלנו במשמעות ובאתגרים.

 

בפרט בימי אלול אלה ,בהם אנו משתדלים לעשות חשבון נפש, לבדוק את עצמנו ומעשינו לקראת התחלה של שנה חדשה ,אתגר זה של לחיות  מתוך מודעות שהאדם נברא בצלם אלקים,  הוא רלוונטי ומשמעותי. אני מקווה  שתוכל לחיות לאורו ולהיות דוגמה מעצבת למישאל, לחברים שלך, ולנו.