Parashat Va’era - Chains of Bondage and Magic Crocodiles

 This week’s parasha continues the story of Moshe and Aaron working to free the Israelites from slavery.

Midrash tells that the Israelites were not enslaved all at once. Rather, they were lured with kindness, asked to help out with certain tasks, and ever so slowly led into servitude. Three of this week’s challot represent this idea. Two are filled with sweetness (chocolate). The cupcake challah is tied into knots, while the other is made of chocolate-filled, twisted strands that then intertwine in a braid. 

          

The third challah is made of three interlocked chains. One large chain makes up the base, with two others draped across, representing the many generations, one upon another, wrapped in chains of bondage.

The final challah is a crocodile. Pirkei Avot, chapter 5 contains a list of ten things made during the final moments of creation. (It’s one of my my favourite texts). Among these things is “וְהַמַּטֶּה,” “the staff.” Perhaps this is Moshe’s staff, perhaps it is Aaron’s. Maybe they share the staff, using it when appropriate. Either way, “the staff” that transforms into a snake last week and a reptile of sorts this week is a magical object, created directly by God. And so, this week’s final challah transformed into a crocodile. 

                          

Here is the whole mishnah - (My favourite part is the creation of tongs, for tongs require tongs to make.)

עֲשָׂרָה דְבָרִים נִבְרְאוּ בְּעֶרֶב שַׁבָּת בֵּין הַשְּׁמָשׁוֹת, וְאֵלּוּ הֵן, פִּי הָאָרֶץ, וּפִי הַבְּאֵר, וּפִי הָאָתוֹן, וְהַקֶּשֶׁת, וְהַמָּן, וְהַמַּטֶּה, וְהַשָּׁמִיר, וְהַכְּתָב, וְהַמִּכְתָּב, וְהַלּוּחוֹת. וְיֵשׁ אוֹמְרִים, אַף הַמַּזִּיקִין, וּקְבוּרָתוֹ שֶׁל משֶׁה, וְאֵילוֹ שֶׁל אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ. וְיֵשׁ אוֹמְרִים, אַף צְבָת בִּצְבָת עֲשׂוּיָה: Ten things were created on the eve of the Sabbath at twilight, and these are they: [1] the mouth of the earth, [2] the mouth of the well, [3] the mouth of the donkey, [4] the rainbow, [5] the manna, [6] the staff, [7] the shamir, [8] the letters, [9] the writing, [10] and the tablets. And some say: also the demons, the grave of Moses, and the ram of Abraham, our father. And some say: and also tongs, made with tongs.

Celebrating the arrival of 2022 with chocolate challah and Bartenura asti. I hope it will be an improvement over 2020 and 2021. 

Shabbat shalom. (In Sean’s words,) Stay safe; stay sane.

Parashat Shemot - Bricks Without Straw & a Third Shot

 And Joseph and his generation died. And a new king arose….

Power corrupts. Even if we give the new Pharaoh the benefit of the doubt at the start, seeing the growing numbers of Israelites leads him to enslave a nation in Egypt’s midst. I can’t help but see parallels in the world. Governmental systems that can work, and work well, are instead stumbling due to parties determined to remain or get back into power. It’s painful to watch.

In this week’s parasha, Pharaoh, seeing the possibility of an uprising among the currently peaceful Israelites. When his actions don’t have the desired result, he pushes harder, even taking away the basic nessities for the jobs to which they are set. In remembrance of the extra work, this week’s first challah is a bundle of straw gathered to make brick and build store cities. It is a reminder that we can push and accomplish what we need to do even when the obstacles keep rising before us. 

It’s also for the covid boosters and the continuing measures to keep the pandemic in check. There will likely be many more spikes and falls before we move from pandemic to endemic. But we will overcome. We must have faith. And so the second challah is the burning bush. Aflame, surprising Moshe, the bush draws him to it, and from it emanates God’s voice calling Moshe to service. It may feel like the world is on fire. We must have faith that it will not be consumed.

And, there’s always the cupcake challah. It isn’t a Gorman Shabbat without a cupcake challah. This week I felt like swirls because sometimes the world seems chaotic, but when you look at it from afar, you can see beauty. I am the eternal optimist. I admit, living through a global pandemic feels overwhelming, especially in the context of politicization of the virus and the vaccine and the ever widening political spectrum. I am tired, sometime numb. But I have faith. I believe things will improve. I believe times in the past have been worse. We will not be consumed, for we are infused with the Divine spirit.

Shabbat shalom. For all who celebrate Christmas, and even for those of us who do not, I hope this is a merry Christmas, filled with joy and grace and hope for the future. We will be enjoying our Chinese food Shabbat lunch.

Vayechi - Shared Blessings and Jacob’s Death

 Each week I think I find more difficult or inappropriate shapes. Had there been time, I would have created a shield with all the symbols of the tribes as represented in Jacob’s so-called blessing of his children. Luckily, I chose not to do that, especially since the dough was particularly soft this week. Instead, I focused on Jacob’s blessing of Efraim and Mennaseh. Jacob crosses his hand, placing the right on the younger child’s head. Unlike the generations before, this doesn’t cause a problem Efraim and Mennaseh. We still bless our children in their names. 

A twist with hands at the ends. (Jesse suggested fingernails, which we made from almonds.)

Continuing with Jacob, I made a sarcophagus. Jews don’t embalm, except in the case of extreme circumstances, Jacob is embalmed in the Egyptian style. It would have been disrespectful in the eyes of Pharaoh to do anything less.  As the second to Pharaoh, Joseph needed to act accordingly. Soft dough leads to less than stiff edges. Either way it’ll be yummy.

 

It’s not Shabbat without a cupcake challah. And there were baked donuts (in cupcake shapes).

Shabbat shalom. Stay well.

Vayigash - Bread

 I missed blogging this week, ironic since I baked and took pictures on Thursday. On this early Shabbatot, Fridays simply disappear. 

This week I placed a lyre atop our cupcake challah. Midrash teaches that Serach, Asher’s daughter, was a singer and musician. When the time came for Joseph’s brothers too tell their father that Joseph was alive, Serach broke the news to him in song to lessen the shock. Serach is listed among those who go down to Egypt and among those who leave 400 years later. Her care of her grandfather merited her long (or eternal) life. Another midrash teaches that it was Serach who tells Moshe where the Joseph is buried so his bones can be taken back to Israel. 

Our challah was a lyre with Serach’s name above.

 

I also baked a little bread. Breishit 47: 1 says, 

וַיְכַלְכֵּל יוֹסֵף אֶת-אָבִיו וְאֶת-אֶחָיו, וְאֵת כָּל-בֵּית אָבִיו--לֶחֶם, לְפִי הַטָּף.

And Joseph nourished his father and his brothers and all of his father’s house — according to the needs of their children.

 

This little challah is shaped like a loaf of bread to sustain us all. And, because humans are not sustained by bread alone, I made a chocolate challah just for fun.

Until next week. 

Shavua tov.

Shabbat Hanukah - Miracles Happening

Hanukah isn’t a big deal in our house. Even when the kids were little, it took its rightful place in the calendar year as the least important holiday, although still a lot of fun. One year, before Keren was born, with a pile of presents from us, grandparents, uncles, and extended family, Jesse kept asking if he could “open just one more present?” After reminding him that if he opened everything now there’d be nothing left for the rest of the holiday, a flurry of wrapping paper filled our living room. We never looked back. Gifts were opened the first night and the rest of the 8 days could be focused simply on enjoying the candles and spending time together. We sing. We talk about the Maccabees and the Hasmonean corruption. We eat way too much fried food, sufganiyot, and chocolate. 

This year, our latke fest was pre-Hanukah so Keren could participate before returning to university. There has been schnitzel, stir-fry, fried fish, and fritters of different vegetables. This Shabbat I am away at a retreat, but I still baked challah for the family. The ring started as a star, but you never really know how the rise is going to go. Corners are hard in bread without a mold. Gavi said the dreydel looked like a pomegranate and the hanukiyah like a beach. It’s become a tradition that he misinterprets the shapes.

Hanukah is the holiday the Sages tried to suppress, but who doesn’t like an underdog comeback victory story. So they made it about a miracle. Did it happen? Doesn’t matter. Miracles are all around us. Perhaps a message for Hanukah is to open our eyes and look for them. My miracle this Hanukah can be found in the smiling faces of kids getting their covid vaccine and the relieved, grateful look in their parents’ eyes.  Hanukah is the holiday the Sages tried to suppress, but who doesn’t like an underdog comeback victory story. So they made it about a miracle. Did it happen? Doesn’t matter. Miracles are all around us. Perhaps a message for Hanukah is to open our eyes and look for them. My miracle this Hanukah can be found in the smiling faces of kids getting their covid vaccine and the relieved, grateful look in their parents’ eyes.  

Shabbat shalom. Hag Urim sameach. May we all emerge soon into the light.

Vayeshev - I Dreamed I Saw Eleven Stars...

 I dreamed I saw eleven stars, the sun and moon and sky...

Oh, Joseph. You don't need to tell your parents and brothers everything. Joseph shared his dreams with his family making the next steps along the path to Israelite slavery and redemption.

This week I made a moon wrapped around a sun, a separate sun, and a small round challah to represent the brothers. The sun is on top since everyone else must bow.

No time to write with my family home for Thanksgiving. Shabbat shalom.

Vayishlach - So Many Inappropriate Challah Shapes

 Some of the best parshiyot to drash, those filled with material, simply don't lend themselves to great challah shapes. Thursday night dinner led to some interesting discussions of detached limbs and foreskins. Nope!

But there are also some beautiful moments. Devorah, Rivka's nurse is buried under an oak tree. In just a verse we have a named woman whose burial is marked. Reading between the lines, moments like these tell me there's a whole tradition of women's stories lost to the canon. For her, I made a braid ending in oak leaves. 

        

       

The big story in Vayishlach is Jacob returning home. Worried about meeting Esav again, he divides his family and flocks on either side of the Jabbok River. Our cupcake challah is divided by a river and accompanied by fluffy sheep. (Yes, it's hard to see in the dough. My sheep clearly needs shearing.

With these, chicken soup has been simmering all day (at least 6 hours) for dipping. Stuffed peppers, pot roast and kale salad with roasted sweet potatoes. Yum to all.

Next week is my favourite secular holiday - American Thanksgiving. With the holiday on Thursday, we get chol hamoed Thanksgiving complete with Shabbat chol hamoed Thanksgiving. Traditional food - there will have to be bread baking.

Wishing you all a Shabbat shalom!

Vayetze - Challot & Ladders to Heaven

I wrote a sermon this week. Not for my health. I am speaking at a local synagogue. A drash I can write quickly. Sermonizing requires research. In doing that research, I discovered the "ladder" of Jacob's dream may have been an ancient ziggurat, a stepped pyramid. These, and sacred groves, were used to have a meeting with God, maybe in one's sleep. Of course, Jacob meets God in a mundane place, for God speaks to us, not only through miracles but through the everyday. Without a mold, I doubt I could make this, but I began with a rounded version (which promptly collapsed). But fate intervened, giving me a sectioned loaf with a rounded top. Is this, perhaps, a ladder to the sky.

Then I went traditional. A modern ladder with rungs. Two artistic angels (with sesame seeds) ascending and descending. 

The final two are my regular challot. It would not be Shabbat without a cupcake challah (named by Gavi for its shape). Shabbat shalom.

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Challot for Toldot 5782

My friend Mikael told me I need a place for all my challah pictures. So I will try to find the time to create the posts here each week. Perhaps the Shabbat before we turn clocks back is not the best timing for adding new activities to Friday afternoon, but why make a seemingly wise decision, when there's a good idea on the table. Always aim high.

This week the Jewish community celebrated Sigd, a holiday brought to us by the Beta Yisrael community from Ethiopia. It is a spiritual gathering to strengthen our roots and culture and is a national holiday in Israel. In honour of Sigd, I made Dabo bread. The roll on the right is made of 3 linked circles representing our connections as a people.

With the Dabo bread, I am making Doro Wat and Mesir Wat, salad, and roasted vegetables from our weekly CSA. This is the final month of deliveries, and I will miss it terribly. I could happily live each week only on these deliveries.

This week is parasha Toldot (Gen 25:19-28:9). Isaac's blessing for Jacob promises abundance, especially grain and wine. Jacob also flees, having taken his brother's blessing. The Mesir Wat is made with red lentils and an amazing spice mixture called Berbere that contains everything good in one tasty package. Perhaps the "red stuff" Esau bought with his birthright was a precursor of this dish. We have a family tradition of marking Toldot with a red lentil stew.

 The challot are cornucopia (2 photos) and a celebration harvest bread shaped like tied sheaves of wheat. 

The final one, made with a little extra dough, represents the two brothers, attached at the start, but ending in very different places.

Though we may be like Esau and Jacob, warring with each other, I pray that, in the not too far future, we find ways to stay connected as human beings even as we travel disparate paths.

Shabbat shalom. 

An Open Letter to Netflix (and Others)

 Why is it that Netflix (and others) think that leaving religious life is entertainment. Yes, fundamentalism can be dangerous. Yes, it’s important that individuals who want to leave fundamental groups believe there is a means to leave. Yet, these shows, even as Batsheva (the eldest daughter in My Unorthodox Life) explains that she’s found a way to Judaism her way, these shows cash in on denigrating religion. This show opens with Batsheva and Ben talking about how her kallah teacher (a teacher who is supposed to teach you about sex, niddah - the laws regarding menstruation - and marriage) couldn’t even say the word “sex.”

There are a number of positive messages about life that come through, but is are just as many negative nonsense about Judaism that gets highlighted. If the show is “My Unorthodox Life” about Julia Hart, why begin with Batsheva and Ben sharing about their sexual knowledge, and why insert difficult moments between them out of context and between unrelated moments of Julia’s life if not for the shock value?

Tisha B’Av teaches us that sinat chinam, causeless hatred, brought about the destruction of our ancient Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land. (Gittin 56a) But that’s not the end of the story. The text teaches us that the Rabbis were trying to work out a solution, but Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas responded to each suggestion with a reason the solutions couldn’t work. It concludes with a statement that his extreme exactitude (his inflexible take on halakhah) of that destroyed our Temple. The issues aren’t religiousness versus non-religiousness. The issue is a complete disregard of choice, of difference, and of respect. What message is being given when Miriam tells her sister she thinks Ben isn’t good for Batsheva, and when Batsheva’s and Ben’s conflict, about which they did not ask for an opinion from Julia, gets a comment that Ben’s opinion is “stupid.”

What if the positives were stressed without the negatives? What if this story was told through a lens of respect. What if examples like, “there are rules for which shoe your supposed to put on first” were given in context?

Here’s a challenge to Netflix - what about creating a show that illustrates religion in a reasonable manner? What about a show that displays how observers of a particular religion demonstrates how Judaism (or other religions) say what can we do instead of what can’t we do? Give me a show that features Jewish military chaplains. Give me a show that features us living a flexible and modern Jewish life instead of Jews who left everything Jewish behind.

Netflix, I can help. I’ll be waiting for that call. 

Faking It - Mother Nature is Lying to Me

I am NOT a morning person. I am a pull the covers over my head for five more minutes person. But today I had to get up.  The sun is shining in my window. It sparkles off the dusting of snow from last night. Puddle coat the street. All this implies that it is a beautiful day. Even my front stoop, facing south and receiving the morning sun, is disingenuously warm. 

All this tries to lure me out of doors. 

But I cannot be fooled. Checking the thermostat, I see it is -6 outside. (That's 21 F for all you Americans.) Though the wind can barely be seen as it blows through the leafless branches, I know it's there. The wires leading to our house sway ominously. I see the brave souls walking, bundled up, only their eyes peeking between scarf and hood. Even the extra challah, tossed out for the squirrels is left behind, too cold for the squirrels to venture out.

And so, I pull a quilt around me and close my eyes for just five more minutes. 

Tu B'Shevat in Covid

 On Wednesday, I participated in a Tu B'Shevat seder. It's been a long time since I've done that. How many other events allow, even encourage you to day-drink four glasses of wine at work? (To tell the truth, I likely totalled almost one regular glass of wine.)

As a holiday, Tu B'Shevat doesn't have a lot to recommend it. Aside from eliminating Tachanun, which many congregations omit anyway, there are no liturgical changes. There is no required ritual. Biblically, Tu B'Shevat is just an annual agricultural marker to mark tithes. Without the Temple and the sacrificial system, it has no religious significance. But this lack of required ritual makes the day a perfect candidate for a modern holiday. 

Judaism is ancient and modern.

Judaism is a religion. It is a people. It is a culture. Judaism is a way of life and a philosophy.

To be a Jew is to be a member of a tribe. 

To keep our tribe relevant, we need to keep all these pieces relevant. There's only so much I can do with Yom Kippur, but Tu B'Shevat offers endless possibilities. It can, and should, be new every year. Having no required ritual, my spouse, Rabbi Sean Gorman, has planned Tu B'Shevat seders that were Israeli wine tastings. He used chocolate, scotch, and beer, moving from light to dark, instead of wine. We've used Tu B'Shevat to start our garden, and to create art.

This year, I used Tu B'Shevat as a celebration of music and connection between Conservative/Masorti communities in Canada, the US, and the UK, but people also joined from the Czech Republic, Israel, and Aruba. We used it to see faces we haven't seen in a long time. We used it as a respite from covid. 

We ended the seder as most s'darim do, "Next year in Jerusalem." Hopefully, we will be able to travel and gather once again, and we can make these words come true.

If you'd like to watch our MERCAZ Tu B'Shevat celebration, or download the seder for future use, go to MERCAZ USA.

The Big Lie in My Nation's Capitol

I have always been respectful of differing opinions. I try very hard to avoid politics on social media. Today's attack on the US Capitol is NOT differing opinions. It is an insurrection. The continuing support of statements by President Trump that President-elect Biden and the Democrats are trying to steal the election is NOT a different opinion. It is a Big Lie. The Big Lie is a tactic designed by Hitler and Goebbels to perpetrate their crimes. Continuing to claim this Big Lie while calling, on Twitter, for calm is a facade. President Trump with one hand stokes the fire with this Big Lie while whispering for calm. 

Let us NOT be mistaken as to who is leading this insurrection against our legally and democratically elected government. These are hate groups who would undermine all principles for which the United States stands. Nooses, t-shirts branded with "Camp Auschwitz" and Nazi salutes (I witnessed this during the live feed, shocking me to my core) illustrate this. 

Our Statue of Liberty is the Mother of Exiles bearing these words: 

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Those who support this illegal insurrection, align themselves with bigots, Nazis and other hate groups, and those who know not the true ideals of our nation. They stand with those who would see my family and other minorities dead. They deny the strength of our nation, the multitudes who immigrated and built our nation. They stand by violence over the rule of law. And, like those who stood by allowing sinat chinam to cause the Second Temple to be destroyed, they stand with those who would see our great nation fall. 

I have never feared before. But today, seeing a Nazi salute given on the lawn outside the Capitol my heart cried out, and fear struck me to my core. 

When I was a teen, a popular discussion was revolved around the question, "If America and Israel were at war who would you support?" It was never a question. The nations I love, my nations, shared foundational values that could not be at war with each other. Israel is not part of this discussion, but I am witnessing a change in my fellow citizens. I thank those leaders who stood by the Constitution and US values to verify the 2020 election. We won't all agree on many things, but we love the United States and the rule of law. Today my heart bled, but tonight I will hold on to hope that these people will prevail, that our nation will heal, and that I, and my children, will feel safe again in the nation of our birth, the nation we love.

Ending a Year of (Not Really) Saying Kaddish

Tomorrow is my mother's yahrtzeit. 

2020 was supposed to be a good year. A year when Gavi started university. A year when Jesse and Keren were graduating university and high school. A year when Mom was supposed to finish chemo and get her life back. But instead, it would be a year of Kaddish. 

2020 began with a New Year's Day trip to New Jersey, just 2 days after arriving home, to possibly say goodbye to Mom. The trip ended settling her in home hospice care with two wonderful nurses with her around the clock. Home again January 9. After the longest ten days of my life (which is saying something ten months into a pandemic lockdown), Sunday evening, January 19, around 7:00 PM, Mom passed away. 

Wednesday, January 22 we said our final goodbyes. A split shiva in Merrick, Monroe Township, and Toronto, and the cycle of Kaddish began. Each morning I drove Keren to school and went across the street for Shacharit and Kaddish. Each evening I went to minyan in the synagogue where my office is or I came home and went with Sean. I didn't ever sleep in. I sent a note to Mirvish Productions explaining that I would not be renewing our theatre subscription, but it wasn't because I didn't want to. 

Just as everything closed down, after Keren's school closed, after Gavi vacated his dorm, leaving, as Jesse and Sean drove cross-country, I skipped minyan and Kaddish one morning to take our cat Gandalf to the hospital. He never came home. Acute kidney failure. That same week synagogues shut down. 

For a few weeks, maybe a month or so, there was no minyan, no place to say Kaddish. Then synagogues began to set up Zoom, then streaming. Kaddish moved online. 

I've written before about my experience with Kaddish online. I don't like it. My year has not be the comfort within a community that meant so much after my father died. But meaningful or not, it ends tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will be in shul, not online, in shul, with nine other people - masked and disinfected, most of us saying Kaddish. 

And that last Kaddish, especially because it will be in shul, especially because I will be standing with others, but so far away, especially because we're all in this together, that last Kaddish will make up for everything that came before.

With my prayers tomorrow morning I will say a prayer that next year on Mom's yahrtzeit I won't be masked, I won't be distant. I will be standing with friends and family, with my community, and we'll say goodbye one more time together.