The sky was bright blue and Oslo's ultra-modern buildings looked at their very best. We walked around the docks, enjoying each new vista that opened up. The Norwegians seem to like their public art, and we had been admiring a sculpture of an iceberg set in the water a little way from the Opera House. Turning the corner and walking below the fortress, we saw another such sculpture. It consisted of a number of empty chairs, in one and twos, set out on the grass.
An adjacent plaque explained it: from that site, on the 26th November, 1942, 532 Norwegian Jews were put on board the ship Donau and deported to Auschwitz. Others were to follow. The sculpture - the work of Antony Gormley - commemorates it.
I thought I'd share this with you - we found it very moving.
SA
Sunday, 26 July 2015
Monday, 13 July 2015
The Sarajevo Haggadah
Here's a shortened version of Rabbi's talk about the Sarajevo Haggadah - put here by popular request :) It marks the 20th anniversary of the Srebrenica Massacre.
... I’ve
decided to look at the wider picture, the relationship of the Jewish
people to the former Yugoslavia and to see what can be learned from it ...
We are
fortunate in having a survivor! A most remarkable survivor! A survivor from the Bosnian War, from the
Nazis, - and from anti-Jewish persecution going back to the Inquisition
and the Expulsion from Spain. The
survivor is not a person, but a book. A familiar book which we have
all read in different editions, and re-read from year to year. It is the famous
Sarajevo Haggadah. The Sarajevo Haggadah is a work of art, a masterpiece of
medieval illumination. A copy of it will
cost you about £140 on Amazon. The original is kept under lock and key in Bosnia, access denied to the public. A
facsimile is kept a few hundred yards from here in the Rylands Library in
Deansgate. The Haggadah is handwritten and
illuminated in copper and gold on bleached calfskin.
The Sarajevo
Haggadah reflects the whole story of the Jews in the region – and beyond. It
was not written in Sarajevo but in Spain - possibly Barcelona. Apparently it
was presented as a wedding gift to a couple getting married in Barcelona.
One of its
most famous pages is of a family gathered around the Seder Table, and it is
believed to depict the family that commissioned it. The Haggadah itself says
‘consider yourself as if you yourself had been saved’, and families would take
that literally and include themselves in some way in their book. [You can see wine stains!]
They were clearly well off to have such a
book made for them, and would have lived in one of the more tolerant periods
under Muslim rule in Spain in the mid-14th century. It was during
the convivencia period in Spain, when Jews, Muslims, and Christians all
coexisted. At the end of
the 15th Century they, and
many other families were flung far and wide, (Muslims too). Many Sephardim
arrived in the Balkans, in Bosnia, then ruled by the Ottoman Turks.
They
prospered here, despite some restrictions, living side by side with their
Muslim neighbors, as one of the largest European centres for Sephardi Jewry in
the world. They were generally well-treated and were recognized under the law
as non-Muslims. They were granted autonomy, various rights, could buy real-estate, build synagogues and conduct
trade abroad. Ashkenazim joined them
later. By and large they flourished and grew in prosperity up to the twentieth
century.
But the
Haggadah seems to have found its way there by a roundabout route. From
Spain, it somehow found its way to Venice.
There the book came under the hand of the Church censor. This is known from a hand written inscription
in Italian underneath the final lines of the Hebrew text: “revisto per me”—inspected by me, words of approval which saved the book
from the bonfire.
From Venice, the Haggadah’s whereabouts disappear off
the radar until the end of the 19th century. But it found its way to
Sarajevo. It re-appears in the
possession of a man there called Josef Kohen, who sold it to the Museum in
Sarajevo. When they sent it to Vienna
for assessment and preservation, it was immediately recognized as a great work
of art.
The Haggadah’s modern-day tale of survival
continued. During World War II, the
Bosnian National Museum’s chief librarian and an Islamic scholar, risked his life to ensure the book’s
safety. In 1942, a Nazi General was visiting the Museum making confiscations.
The librarian stuffed the book underneath his shirt. When the Obersturmfuehrer
asked for the famous Haggadah, the director told him that one of his officers
had already been to the museum and asked for it. He said he had of course handed it over
immediately. When the angered commander asked for the officer’s name, he
swiftly replied: “I did not think it was my place to require a name.”
So the Haggadah survived. By 1941, Bosnia-Herzegovina was home
to approximately 14,000 Jews. By the end of World War II, only 4,000 Bosnian
Jews were still alive. Jews were killed both by Nazi Germans and Croats who
assisted in the Jewish extermination.
Sir Martin Gilbert notes that whilst a Muslim SS unit was set up, at the
same time many Muslim saved Jews. So it is not clear cut. There were
deportations, but mainly massacres on the spot, just like Srebrenica 20 years
ago.
The Haggadah spent the remaining war years in a
mountain village, where the friend of the man who saved it was the Imam of a
small mosque. After the war, when many surviving Bosnian Jews came back, it
returned to the museum. But in 1992, the building was almost destroyed by the
Bosnian Serbs aiming to make the city ethnically cleansed. They later burned
the city’s library to the ground. Once again, the museum’s Muslim librarian
secretly stowed the book away, this time in a bank vault . He risked his life
doing so driving through a hail of bullets, with the help of police who thought
he was mad. His name is Imamovic. And what he said about what he did is
important.
He said: “Although Serb nationalists attempted
to separate ethnic identities, most Bosnians — especially those in
Sarajevo — didn’t see themselves as Muslims, Croats and Serbs: but part of a
shared identity.” He said, “The city’s
Jewish heritage is as important to them as any other because it’s what made
Bosnia the rich cultural mix that the nationalists wanted to destroy.” The Haggadah was a
symbol of that.
The book is now kept under shatterproof glass in the
Sarajevo National Museum but is inaccessible. The museum is bankrupt; it closed
its doors in 2012, unable to pay its employees from then till now. The State does not care about the
museum or its contents, but paradoxically won’t give up the book. Bids from America and Israel to buy it have
failed.
And so the book that represents freedom and survival through
exile is inaccessible - a silent, imprisoned witness to enormous tragedy, its
own people’s and the world’s. Its creators illuminated it for
posterity, and unwittingly, gave it to
the world as an inheritance. We have something just as valuable: their
story.
But the
Sarajevo Haggadah is also testimony to a
sad fact: surviving so many threats: expulsion, persecution, war, theft,
it now faces the greatest threat of all – indifference, apathy towards
cultural heritage, in a country where
people of different cultures live parallel lives and struggle for
reconciliation.
That is a threat which we all face, and one
which we do well to confront and overcome.
Monday, 29 June 2015
Monday, 22 June 2015
Aleph, bet, vet ...
At first when I looked in our new siddur and saw there was a
transliteration of the Hebrew, my heart filled with joy. Now I would be able to
join in prayers and sing along with the choir. Because my Hebrew had never been
very good. As a child, my Orthodox cheder did not prioritise the teaching of
girls, and I fell by the wayside. When I joined Jackson’s Row I was helped to read
Hebrew, but I never practised and although I could recognise letters, spelling
out words was a painfully slow process. Hence my happiness at the
transliteration.
But I always felt just a little guilty that I wasn’t doing
it properly. Then, just under a year ago, inspired by the ice bucket challenge,
a group of people in the MRJ initiated the Elul challenge here in the UK – in the
run up to Yom Kippur, we challenged ourselves to do something in preparation. I
decided to read 15 minutes of Hebrew a day.
Now here’s a thing. I found I enjoyed it. And my Hebrew even
got a little bit better. After Yom Kippur, I didn’t want to stop. So I asked
Rabbi Silverman if he’d lend a hand, and he agreed to go through some prayers
in the siddur with me. I felt like someone had turned on a light. I began to
learn what each prayer was about as well as being able to read it. Prayerbook
Hebrew is an incredible language – each root word has little bits tagged on the
beginning and end – you have to know what these mean, and add them to the root
word – it’s a bit like one of Harry Potter’s spells!
I still practised my Hebrew at home, and then began to need
something more structured. So the Rabbi directed me to The First Hebrew Primer,
and I’ve begun to work through that.
I’m doing all the basics I should have done years ago –
learning how to write Hebrew letters, and really paying attention to those
pesky little vowels. My fluency is slowly improving, and sometimes in shul
Rabbi reads something – even from the Torah – and I actually understand it! I have
to refrain myself from punching the air!
I love this passage from Sayings of the Fathers on p718 of
our siddur:
“Elisha ben Abuyah says, If people learn as children – what do
they resemble? They resemble ink written on clean paper. If people learn when
old – what do they resemble? They resemble ink written on worn-out paper.”
Well, Elisha ben Abuyah – this piece of paper is not quite
worn-out yet, and though I might have to work a bit harder than young people, I
think I appreciate all the more deeply how wonderful Hebrew is – a mine of
treasure which is truly limitless.
If this inspires any of you, Rabbi is only too happy to
arrange tuition as he has done for me.
SA
Labels:
learning Hebrew
Thursday, 11 June 2015
Golems and Zionism!
Two things to stimulate you today - the first is a book review...
THE GOLEM AND THE DJINNI
Helene Wecker
It’s New York, 1899, and among the throngs of immigrants are
two very unusual beings – one is a female golem, whose master died en route to
America. The other is a djinni who travelled – as djinnis do – in a copper
flask. Both golem and djinni must establish themselves and work through their
destinies. And of course, before too long, they meet each other and a very
unusual friendship is forged.
This magic realist novel is unlike anything I’ve read before.
In fact it’s more real than magic – the golem, Chava, and the djinni, Ahmad,
are as believable as you or I. Chava responds to the hopes and fears of all
those she meets; Ahmad is a creature of fire and intolerant of the humans
around him. Chava wishes to be bound;
Ahmad, to be free.
New York is beautifully realised, and the portrait of the
Jewish community of the Lower East Side is brilliantly done. A host of rich,
minor characters flesh out this novel and make it an utterly absorbing read.
You can find it on Amazon here ...
And the second is a link to a Times of Israel blog on shy Zionists penned by Anthony Ashworth-Steen, Informal Education Director of UJIA and husband of a student rabbi ...
The novel and the blog are not connected, but both will make you think!
Friday, 5 June 2015
An understanding of many worlds
From Rabbi Silverman
Last Shabbat I ended the service with a new blessing from the MRJ Siddur (p.324). New to us but originating from the Dead Sea Scrolls and based on the priestly blessing in the Torah.
People found it uplifting.
Here it is :
"May God bless you with all that is good, and guard you from all that is harmful. May God enlighten you with the wisdom of life and give you understanding of many worlds. May God in faithful love offer you enduring peace."
The phrase 'understanding of many worlds' aroused the most interest. What does it mean? - I was asked.
Cosmic understanding? A sense of oneness with all nature the more we learn about it? Connection with our fellow human beings, each one of whom is a whole world ? All of the above?
Doing my homework I quickly found that from the original Dead Sea Scroll text the meaning clearly gets lost in our translation.
'Olamim' is ambiguous. It can mean 'worlds' or 'eternity'.
Over and over again in the section of the Dead Sea Scrolls where it comes it is very frequently, consistently and, as far as I could tell, exclusively used adjectivally to mean eternal, long-lasting, or as it is correctly translated from the last words, li-Shelom Olamim - 'enduring' (peace).
Later in the week Prof Steven Hawking made a statement on assisted dying. He said that he would 'consider' assisted dying only if he were in great pain or had nothing left to contribute to the world.
I would want to apply the blessing to him. You and I can have nothing approaching the knowledge of the 'many worlds ' of the universe that such minds as his have contributed to science and life generally.
But, like him, we can bring ourselves honestly to grapple with the dilemmas and distresses of those who lose their faculties, and hope that we will be blessed with enduring knowledge and ability to continue giving of ourselves until we reach eternal peace.
Last Shabbat I ended the service with a new blessing from the MRJ Siddur (p.324). New to us but originating from the Dead Sea Scrolls and based on the priestly blessing in the Torah.
People found it uplifting.
Here it is :
"May God bless you with all that is good, and guard you from all that is harmful. May God enlighten you with the wisdom of life and give you understanding of many worlds. May God in faithful love offer you enduring peace."
The phrase 'understanding of many worlds' aroused the most interest. What does it mean? - I was asked.
Cosmic understanding? A sense of oneness with all nature the more we learn about it? Connection with our fellow human beings, each one of whom is a whole world ? All of the above?
Doing my homework I quickly found that from the original Dead Sea Scroll text the meaning clearly gets lost in our translation.
'Olamim' is ambiguous. It can mean 'worlds' or 'eternity'.
Over and over again in the section of the Dead Sea Scrolls where it comes it is very frequently, consistently and, as far as I could tell, exclusively used adjectivally to mean eternal, long-lasting, or as it is correctly translated from the last words, li-Shelom Olamim - 'enduring' (peace).
Later in the week Prof Steven Hawking made a statement on assisted dying. He said that he would 'consider' assisted dying only if he were in great pain or had nothing left to contribute to the world.
I would want to apply the blessing to him. You and I can have nothing approaching the knowledge of the 'many worlds ' of the universe that such minds as his have contributed to science and life generally.
But, like him, we can bring ourselves honestly to grapple with the dilemmas and distresses of those who lose their faculties, and hope that we will be blessed with enduring knowledge and ability to continue giving of ourselves until we reach eternal peace.
Tuesday, 26 May 2015
Cupcakes and milkshakes
Pam Walker imagines what the kids thought of their special Shavuot service ...
"We had such fun at the children's service on Shavuot Sunday. Rabbi helped us to understand the meaning of Shavuot through singing, playing instruments, drawing and playing together.
"We had such fun at the children's service on Shavuot Sunday. Rabbi helped us to understand the meaning of Shavuot through singing, playing instruments, drawing and playing together.
Rabbi helped us to get into the mood, as did Simone (piano) and David
(lead guitar). Rabbi was very jolly, helping us to do the actions to the
songs( he was even dancing and twirling about!) Tambourines, shakers
and much slapping of out thighs and toe tapping helped us to make such
great music as we sang along to the tunes.
Whilst we were doing this, Rabbi cleverly helped
us to learn about the meaning of Shavuot. We learnt that Ruth, who lived a long time ago, really wanted to belong to the Jewish
faith and said to Naomi, "Where you go, I will go; where you live, I will live." She was really keen to belong and the Jewish people at the time told her
that she was very welcome.
We also learnt that we celebrate the Torah being given by God on Mount
Sinai, and that the Ten Commandments were really important for everyone
to follow so that they could be good people, just like we all try to be
now. We even read some of them on the Ark. Of course the letters were
quite high up, and we are only little, but we could make some of them
out.
When Rabbi took the Torah from the Ark we were really happy and even
though it was heavy, we helped to put it back and close the Ark
afterwards, which was a very special feeling.
We had our magnetic aleph bet and a game to help us with our Hebrew too!
After Rabbi had to go upstairs to make sure all the adults were learning
properly about Shavuot, we carried on with Pam, David and Simone,
making paper animals and drawing.
To round everything off we all had cupcakes and milkshakes, as of course
Shavuot also means that we celebrate our ancient land flowing with milk
and honey, very sweet in our mouths, just like Torah."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)