MY SITE
Figuring Things Out3/28/2023 “You’ve just changed our tradition,” remarked one of those attending the funeral I’d just conducted. At the end of the ceremony, I’d asked those in attendance to form two lines back to the cars for the mourners to pass through. “Normally, the mourners sit in the chapel, and we all go up to them and wish them long life. But that’s okay—you’re teaching us something new.” I was absolutely speechless! Here I’d just altered a long-standing practice of the community, and I was being congratulated on doing it differently. How utterly surprising! My first funeral in Birmingham was for a long-time 86-year-old member of the synagogue. The service and burial took place at Witton Cemetery, about 4 miles/6 km from the synagogue. The very large Jewish section is owned by the Orthodox synagogue Singers Hill, with a small area set aside for burials by Birmingham Progressive Synagogue. Julie, who works for the congregation, called me up last week and offered to meet me at the cemetery so that I could familiarise myself with the place and practices. This was my second time attempting Birmingham roads, and it was just terrifying. Honestly, I’ve concluded that Birmingham drivers are among the best in the world. This is the only possible way that I’ve avoided a collision so far! There is a certain randomness to how lanes appear and disappear, often right in the middle of roundabouts/traffic circles. You think that the lane you’re in is going to get you onto the correct road, and then lo and behold you need to be one lane over to the left, but there’s a car there, so you go all the way around the roundabout again and make a second attempt. Signs telling you the speed limit seem to be much less common than speed cameras. I just travel the same speed as everyone else and hope for the best. I’ve given up on Google Maps and switched to Waze after google told me to use the right lane to turn right and then gave 10 seconds notice to cut over three lanes to the left. Even Waze is a bit worrisome, but not quite as bad. After fifteen minutes of white-knuckled driving, I pulled up to the cemetery and gave myself a high five. Witton Cemetery is just lovely. It helps to have a good supply of rain to keep the grass green, as opposed to the much drier cemeteries in South Australia. The graves are much less packed in, and so there is a sense of spaciousness and serenity that I really appreciated. Near the entrance to the Jewish section there stands a small chapel, which Margaret refers to as the ohel--or tent. The structure apparently is as old as the cemetery itself, which dates back to 1868. The stained glass windows are just beautiful. I was also touched to see a plaque memorialising those from the community who had died in the Blitz and whose bodies had never been found. I met Julie and also Glenn, the caretaker of the cemetery. Glenn has exactly the right sense of humour for his job, and he is also clearly very good at what he does. He explained to me about the electric bier, which has been known to go rogue on occasion. This worried me a bit until I saw him wink at me. They both explained how much of the service would take place in the chapel, with the burial to take place near the end of the ceremony. I learned from Julie that no mechanical digging equipment is utilised at the ceremony; the graves are dug entirely manually! Funerals normally do not take place before noon to allow a minimum of four hours to prepare the grave. This family had consented to allowing me to bury old prayerbooks with their father. I brought along four large paper bags to go in the grave. Family members assisted with filling in the grave, and then the cemetery staff filled in the rest.
Armed with a pretty good eulogy and a copy of the prayerbook used for funeral services, I felt well prepared for the funeral—until I got there! Then I realised that I had very little idea of what to do. Should I have the congregation escort the coffin to the chapel or wait inside? At what point should we move from the chapel to the grave? When would we go back? I suddenly worried that there might be a dozen or more moments in the service when I might “get it wrong.” Each community has certain expectations of some rituals, and none more than funerals. I was so grateful to the kind member who reassured me that although I’d done it differently, that was completely acceptable. In the end, it was a beautiful experience for me and hopefully everyone else too. We had four generations of family members present, including a gorgeous six-month-old baby. More family members joined us on Zoom from as far away as Arizona. It felt like a wonderful celebration of a life well-lived.
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Connections Expected and Unexpected3/19/2023 It has been a week of meeting people and discovering connections, expected and unexpected. On a personal level, we travelled to Melbourne and met my three ‘Australian cousins’, two of whom I had never met. My mother’s sister and her husband had moved to Australia in the 1960s when life became intolerable for them in Pakistan. Then as now, the British made immigration very difficult and although they had British family they were refused entry. We had a wonderful time, catching up on our family history and just enjoying being together. I also met Rabbi Fred Morgan and Sue after 25 years or more. Fred has been my first teacher of midrash, before I started to study for the rabbinate, and I still quote him when I teach midrash myself. Sue reminded me that we had bonded at the Greenham Common protest against the siting of nuclear missiles in England. I met members of the congregation who had fascinating stories to tell. Amongst them was an unsettling meeting with a congregant whose brother had died a few weeks after getting married in London. It turned out my father had conducted both the wedding and funeral and although I was young at the time, I remembered how shaken he and the congregation had been. More happily, I was struck on the same visit by the incredible view just outside the congregant’s house. It brought home to me that whatever the similarities between Birmingham and Adelaide, these were very different cities. The view was across woods to the ocean, just a few miles (or here I should say kilometres) away. The drive to the house had taken me along steep, windy roads through forested hills. The sky was blue, the trunks of the eucalyptus trees white, and there were signs warning about koala bears. I can see why people stay here, although Birmingham has different things to offer. Another congregant greeted me as she was gardening. She had a vast expanse of garden and clearly loved being outdoors. She told me they used to have a bigger place right out in the country, and she clearly still missed it. I went away with home grown spinach and a sorrel plant. I had a different sort of meeting at the Cheder this week which left me excited. Teenage boys are not the easiest group to teach but they have also given me some of my greatest moments of learning and excitement. In Birmingham, we have a Kabbalat Torah class, in which we encourage boys and girls who have had their Bnei Mitzvah to continue learning, which most of them do. So I’m used to slightly older children, and it has been a real joy over the years to see them mature from the beginning of their teenage years into adulthood. (It also helped me parent my teenagers knowing that teenagers did grow into responsible adults eventually!).
This Sunday, I helped to teach the 11-12 year olds who were approaching their Bar Mitzvah. We had suggested they choose names for their classes and one of the boys, who clearly had an interest in wolves, suggested that we call the class Ze’ev, Hebrew for wolf. So we decided to explore why that would be a good name for their class. What emerged was that in their class there would be togetherness like a pack; hunting for knowledge; keen sight to examine Torah; keen hearing to listen to each other and a keen sense of smell to think about the spiritual, which was beyond hearing and sight. In the coming weeks, we’ll see if they live up to that, but immediately afterwards we talked about what it was like to be the only Jew in their class or their school and they thoughtfully drew what Judaism meant to them so I’m looking forward to what will emerge over the rest of my time here. The people we carry in our hearts3/16/2023 --by Rabbi Shoshana
Last week, I had the chance to catch up with Margaret a little bit over Zoom. The reason for our conversation was to discuss the students who were scheduled to finalise their conversion process in London. Rabbi Rachel Benjamin joined us for the chat. Rachel was appointed to chair the beit din, or religious court, which is one of the final milestones in moving through the conversion process. Margaret briefed me not only on those students who were preparing to be interviewed by the beit din in March, but also about a few more who will be coming before the beit din in April and May. In the course of the discussions, we made a surprise discovery: both of us had brought with us gifts that had been made for us by our conversion students. Given how challenging it was for each of us to squeeze 5 months worth of clothing, shoes, and other personal items into the one suitcase each of us was allowed, it was all the more noteworthy that we had opted to bring along these special items. Mine is a cloth bag, lovingly embroidered by one of my students. It bears the words of Beit Shalom’s mission statement in Hebrew: welcoming guests, healing the world, righteous giving, kindness, welcoming guests, and Torah. I brought it in my carry-on bag to make sure it wouldn’t get lost. Margaret carried two little tags engraved for her based on the teaching of the Hassidic rabbi Simcha Bunem. He taught that each person should wear a coat with two pockets. In one pocket should be a note with the words, “I am but dust and ashes.” In the other pocket, the words, “For my sake the world was created.” And each person should ponder which note is appropriate to read at different times. I suspect that for both of us, these objects represent how much it means to us that we have the privilege of accompanying students on their journey towards becoming Jewish. I’ve done this with close to fifty students in Australia. I’ve also sat on batei din that have interviewed around one hundred men, women and teenagers in Indonesia. Now, as of Tuesday, I’ve shepherded two women through the last steps of becoming Jewish here in the UK. As I’ve discovered, the final process is handled very differently here than in Australia. I’ve convened batei din in Adelaide nearly every year since 2006. Each time, a rabbi has flown in from interstate. Now with Zoom, a third rabbi is able to join remotely, along with an honoured member of the congregation in person. But here in the UK, there is just one beit din organised by Liberal Judaism. It meets monthly in London, with different Liberal rabbis rotating through. This week’s beit din was headed by Rachel and also included Rabbi Aaron Goldstein as well as Rabbi Charley Baginsky, who is the Chief Executive Officer of Liberal Judaism. The sponsoring rabbi for each conversion candidate comes along as well to provide support to their students. This meant that I got to meet two more rabbis! In fact, even after my formal role was done I stayed around to chat with them and learn a bit more about the non-Orthodox Jewish world here. The two women who had come from Birmingham were both very excited and extremely nervous. One said that this meant so much to her, and then she wiped away some more tears. Both came away from their interviews feeling affirmed and strengthened by how the rabbis had received them. Their appearance before the beit din and immersion in a ritual bath (located, very inconveniently, a solid thirty minute drive away) are the last two steps in what for both of them has been a process of many years. I am very excited to be a part of the Liberal Jewish welcoming ceremony for both of them! Some conversion students move through the process with all deliberate speed, inhaling Jewish learning and experiences with enormous enthusiasm. Others take it a bit slower. Taking on a Jewish identity is a huge transition and involves thinking about questions like how public they wish to be and how they will adjust their personal and professional lives. Each journey, no matter how long it takes, is sacred. It has been one of my greatest joys to be a part of that journey. And now I’m meeting a whole new group of learners. What a blessing! Coming to Adelaide3/8/2023 Birmingham and Adelaide are similar and different. At first glance, they couldn’t be more different. Birmingham is a ‘super-diverse’ city, miles away from the sea, with an industrial past. Adelaide is a beautifully laid out green city which is predominantly white and has beaches of its own. But there are similarities which make me feel at home. Both are seen by outsiders as ‘provincial’, either industrial or boring or both. People who live there see them differently. They are comfortable places to be, with no pretensions but a lot too offer. I have come to Adelaide at festival time, and everything I was told by the people here is true. There is a Fringe comparable to the Edinburgh Fringe and an International Festival and Writers festival starting this week. We have already seen three Fringe shows, with ‘Black is the Colour of My Voice’, a one-woman show based on the life of Nina Simone, being outstanding. And this week we have a Palestinian drama about space travel and a performance by the pianist Cedric Thibergien to look forward to. Not to mention the wonderful performance we saw last night, which I’ll come to. The Jewish community feels similar too. Although Birmingham’s is slightly larger, both are small. Both liberal congregations are diverse, too, in age, occupation, background and gender and sexuality. And most importantly, both are warm and welcoming. My first entry to the congregation was sadly through conducting prayers for a much-loved member. I met his family, including his stoical and determined widow, at the funeral for the first time. As I often feel at funerals, I wish I had known him. To lighten the day, I had a delicious meal before the prayers with the Board (Council in Britain) and discovered the barramundi, a delicious Australian fish. I got to know some of the members, including a Professor of Aboriginal music. A couple of days later I met the Synagogue’s wonderful administrator, Amanda. Her ‘real’ job is in the arts, so she has a wealth of experience, but she clearly loves the congregation and cares about its members. She gave me my rabbi’s phone and set me up on the computer, showed me useful places to go for lunch and took me for a drive in what was to be my new car. This came as a bit of shock after my second-hand small Volkswagen Up - a brand new Toyota Corolla hybrid. I am adapting to driving it and beginning to find my way around the city, which has a much more logical lay out than Birmingham. The congregation’s President, Ruth, thoughtfully led the Friday night service to take the load off me, although I gave the ‘sermon’ by talking about myself - as I said at the time, both easy and difficult. I realised I would have to get to know the Minhag, and especially some new tunes, which I will enjoy as they have some lovely melodies. Shabbat morning was more tricky, as I had to learn about the Bimah choreography as well as navigating the new tunes. I also took the plunge and talked about the rampage and arson in the Palestinian village of Harawa, linking it with Shabbat Zachor. The Cheder at Beit Shalom is a similar size to BPS. They meet on a Sunday, and I do notice the difference and feel again what a good thing it was that we changed our Cheder to Shabbat. Both children and teachers are great, though, and I am beginning to get to know them, especially the more lively children.
And so to the evening performance…. It was a wonderful Purim spiel based on Broadway. There were some great performers who could have been professional, including a sixteen-year old dancer who played Esther and an singer with a beautiful voice who played Vashti. Ron, our gentle host, was a villainous and unsettling antisemitic Haman. So that was my first week in Adelaide - busy and interesting and fun. I think I will enjoy it here! Margaret Six days in Birmingham so far!3/5/2023 It’s been a busy and stimulating first week here in Birmingham. It is COLD! The daytime temperature has been hovering around 5 degrees (around 42 Fahrenheit), with nighttime temperatures near freezing. I’ve been layering up and feeling thankful that I brought along my mother’s very heavy Irish sweater, which I’ve worn every single day, along with two pairs of socks, leggings under my pants, and a heavy coat, mittens, and a knitted ski hat outside and occasionally inside. If you’ve followed the news, you’ll know that UK is in the midst of an energy crisis, and electricity and fuel prices are sky high even with the government assisting people in paying bills. The synagogue has central heating, but the furnace is only started up before Shabbat services, so I need to make do with a little space heater in the rabbi’s office. Enough kvetching for today! Birmingham so far seems to me to be a very liveable, very accessible city. It’s true that my flat is right in the centre of the city, and much of where I need to get to is walking distance. The synagogue is less than a mile away. Aston University, with its incredibly gorgeous swimming pool, is just a mile. There are two train central train stations, each about ten minutes’ walk from where I’m living. Many members of the synagogue live quite a distance away, and for some it can mean a train and two buses to get there. The very centre of Birmingham features a grand city square, where you can find the central library, Symphony Hall, and a large theatre complex. Nearby there are dozens of restaurants, pubs and nightclubs. I walked about fifteen minutes to a nearby community theatre on Saturday evening, and was amazed to see the city’s Broad Street crowded with foot traffic. At 10:00 pm, it seemed that people were just getting started for the night! I was met at Heathrow airport by two of the synagogue’s officers Clive and Val. They were the first to extend a very warm welcome, and that welcome has been echoed many times over since then. There has been a palpable excitement at the prospect of meeting a new rabbi with different things to teach, different ideas and even different melodies for familiar prayers. I was touched that dozens of people came out for Shabbat morning services on Saturday, with at least a dozen more joining on Zoom. I arrived early enough to zip in and say hello to the Hebrew school students and teens, who meet from 10:00 to 12:15 on Saturday mornings. I managed to make it through the Shabbat morning service with a minimum of problems, although I stopped often to ask how things were done at Birmingham Progressive Synagogue. I can see that we share very few tunes in common, and I’m hoping that by next Shabbat I’ll have at least learned a few of the most significant melodies for the congregation. I’m also aware that the trope, or Torah chanting melody I use is different from British trope. I’ve learned a little British trope, but I’m still not confident enough to chant a Torah portion to it.
Following services and quick bite for lunch, Eve, a dedicated synagogue member, led a class in Israeli folkdancing, with well over a dozen people joining in. At one point, the woman next to me indicated an elderly man who was dancing with great joy and noted that he is 97 years old. I had to meet him! His name is Jake, and he has been married for 75 years to Mary. Just the little bit that I caught of Jake’s story is extraordinary: he is black, while Mary is white. He hinted at just how very difficult things were for them in those early years. He is old enough to have fought in World War II, which he did as airman. He noted with a chuckle that he finally received his medals—last year! I commented that I was guessing his ability to accept life as it was might be one of the keys to his healthy and very long life. He was also a sprinter as a young man and is very proud to have carried the flag for Great Britain and the Maccabi games in Israel. He still stands straight, and there is a definite bounce in his step. I’ve met many others from the congregation already. Thankfully, I can understand just about everyone—I’m one of those people who sometimes needs to turn on the subtitles to watch British television shows and films! I’m looking forward to hearing many more stories and learning more about this lovely community. Rabbi Shoshana Kaminsky has been the rabbi of Beit Shalom in Adelaide, South Australia for the last sixteen years. She's very happy to be serving Birmingham Progressive Synagogue for the next three months.
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