Jews – Don't Gel Too Soon

The Jews of Girona, Their Exile – and Bruce Springsteen (Seriously)

This is Girona, home to a large, prosperous, and effective Jewish community until a confluence of events took it all away.

In a single year, two historic moments changed western history and Jewish history, too. It was 1492. The very Catholic King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, partners in a marriage made to consolidate power, threw all the Jews out of Spain. Immediately. Convert or get out.

At the same time, of course, these same “Catholic Kings” sent Christopher Columbus on his way to the “new world” and forever changed faith, power and geopolitics.

The Jewish History Museum of Girona beautifully documents much of this story:

Two "JIDE" - Jewish figures from the 1050 "Creation Tapestry" and also seen here. — Two “JUDEI” – Jewish figures from the 1050 “Creation Tapestry”

The letters floating above these two little people say “JUDEI” – Jew.

This 14th Century mikvah was found only recently. How haunting, especially with the recent mikvah scandal, to see before us evidence of how long women have honored this commitment.

Words from a tombstone (see next picture)

For some reason, this just felt extra sad. There are so many little boys in my life – and some big ones – so maybe that’s part of it. Beyond that though, the humanness and loss felt so real, and the suffering of those times so much more concrete as I absorbed the words of this one grieving parent.

But what, you may ask, does any of this have to do with Bruce Springsteen? Well, as I entered the lovely museum gift shop, attended by this equally lovely gentleman, I heard Bruce on the radio. Gradually, I realized that he was singing My Hometown.

Now Main Street’s whitewashed windows and vacant stores
Seems like there ain’t nobody wants to come down here no more
They’re closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they ain’t coming back to your hometown

Last night me and Kate we laid in bed Talking about getting out
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
I’m thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said son take a good look around
This is your hometown

Exile and loss, pain and deprivation can be understood on so many levels. Just as the Jews were brutally ejected from the homes and community they had so painstakingly built, so were workers throughout this country as the factories and mines and mills that had sustained them for so long collapsed. Although on a different scale, they too lost everything they knew and the life they had loved, and were forced to find another, unknown place to call home. Although less brutally required to depart, they had no choice, really.

Loss of home, love, family and community is a hardship experienced by more and more people throughout the world. Hunger, terrorism, civil war, drought, economic collapse and religious, gender and racial discrimination hurt in different ways and to different degrees, but the pain is the same in nature if not in degree. The only thing that changes is the faith, or class, or color of the refugees. We still certainly don’t seem to have learned to care much more today when it happens to people who aren’t us.

Grazie Roma

Two very full days in Rome, jet lagged but determined. The Coliseum and the Forum captured our imagination in new ways as we learned more about the lives of early Romans, their gladiators and their rulers. Jewish slaves helped to build the deadly theater. The famous Arco di Tito – Arch of Titus – bears images of a menorah because along with those Jewish slaves, captured at the fall of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, the conquering Romans brought treasure, including Jewish artifacts, and chose to represent them on Titus’ arch.

We did so much more but our first night on the Sojourn is almost upon us and we need to be up early to see Napoleon’s summer home. Here are a few more pix of Rome.

OH and Grazie Roma? It’s the best sports anthem ever, and the TODAY SHOW’s 1985 Rome week closed with Antonelo Venditti singing it, along with huge crowd of happy Rome residents, as we all celebrated on the Spanish Steps.

Paris to Strawberry Fields to City Hall: Needing Each Other

It was impossible to watch Sunday’s enormous march through traumatized Paris with any detachment; events that touch us all invariably drive us to gather, so we felt it too. Stating the obvious, certainly, but, as I grow older and my inventory of remembered public sadness grows — JFK, Martin Luther King, Bobby Kennedy, Oklahoma City, 9/11 — it remains remarkable.

I am somewhere in this crowd, gathered for a vigil and moment of silence six days after the assassination of John Lennon. Imagine all the people, living life in peace he wrote. Grief and anger at his loss drew us then, as, so many years later, grief and anger summoned the people of Paris.

I am somewhere in this crowd, too: another Sunday, in 2014, 34 years later. We’re in San Francisco, not Paris, but once more have come together, a continent and an ocean away from the millions in France. We too mourn, and rage, and join together for comfort — but look. Thirty four years later, John Lennon is still present, asking the same questions, demanding, even as we mourn, that we do better.

SHABBAT SHALOM (Posted Friday Afternoon)

Have a wonderful weekend. See you later.

Our Gigantic Family #MicroblogMondays

Two new little boys will enter our family before the end of September. We’re excited, happy for our lovely sons and their wives and very happy too that our grandchildren have such wonderful people as parents.

There’s another thing, that (even though it is, of course, obvious) I hadn’t thought about in a long time: these children, while we can’t trace personal generations very far back because so many records and stories were lost in the Holocaust, have a family that goes back to Abraham and to Moses and Mt. Sinai and to Sarah and Rachel and Rebecca. Of course, we all, biblically, begin with Adam and Eve but because I’ve always known I couldn’t trace our family, I didn’t let myself consider what we might never know – it was too painful.

I think that’s why the sudden recollection of this spectacular Jewish lineage became an almost new discovery even though the reality has always been part of our lives. We, and our children, and theirs, are part of something well beyond ourselves. I am grateful to be part of the tribe – and pray that our boys, and theirs – and their moms – travel safely as the world continues on its magnificent, scary and complicated trips around the sun.

Lisbon, Visas and Jews

Praca de comerce2 — Praça do Comércio at the harbor entrance to Lisbon.

Lisbon is a gorgeous city with a tough history. We spent today with a specialist in Jewish life here – which went from a quarter of a million souls to 700 between WWII and today. Between the Axis and Salazar they never had a chance, and before that…. well the stories of abuse and expulsion are too hideous to describe.

It’s enough to say that through the centuries Jews were permitted in Lisbon and Portugal for short periods of time and then expelled. When the economy tanked and needed a boost, the king always invited them back. For a while. Then the cycle began again. Each time it was “convert or leave.” And if you do leave, you go without your money, your goods or anything else. Those who remained, as “cryptojews” (secret Jews or those practicing old Jewish ways even though they were no longer identified as Jews,) or were unfortunate enough to be around during one of the angry Jew-banning periods, retribution was swift and terrible. Torture, burning at the stake, slow, Game of Thrones deaths by other means and, more than once, forceable seizure of children who were then either adopted by Christians or enslaved. One particularly terrible story involves 1506, right around Passover, when thousands faced grisly, dramatic trials, sentencing and death. It is not a pretty story.

Passover massacre memorial — Memorial to those who died in 1506

It took until the early 21st Century for anyone to acknowledge and commemorate this terrible time.

There’s lots more, all of it sadly familiar, although in many ways the Portuguese were more horribly creative than most in what they did to the Jews in their midst.

There are also stories of enormous courage, including Aristides de Sousa Mendes, a diplomat who saved thousands of Jews by issuing visas and exit papers to them after having been forbidden to do so. Mostly though, even today the terrible stories outweigh the good ones. By a lot.

We learned all this, and so much more, from a spectacular guide named Paolo Scheffer whose knowledge is exceeded only by his passion for sharing it.

Revolution anniversarhy photo cropped — The world’s coolest coup (NBC News)

That knowledge, although focused on Jewish history and art history, also covers the politics surrounding the EU and the Portuguese economy, the days of dictator Antonio Salazar and the wonders of the 1974 “Carnation Revolution” whose 40th anniversary was celebrated on April 25th. The uprising against Portugal’s fascist dictator killed only four, and featured carnations in gun barrels and on demonstrators.

It’s wonderful to recall, but this day has been replete with memories of uprisings of a different sort, always with the Jews as targets. Perhaps recalling the carnations and all they stood for also reminds us of the vulnerability of all minorities in all cultures and the need for all of us to rise up to protect them.

Jewish Women, Feminists, and Esther — Across the Centuries

How can there be a women's story that women are not allowed to tell? Today is Purim – the celebration of the rescue of the Jews from the Persian King Asueras' evil adviser Haman. In a classic (and highly fortunate) intermarriage, she became the favorite wife of the powerful king. Unaware that she's Jewish, he's chosen her from all the maidens of Shushan and fallen for her – hard. The story is intricate but it ends with a bad guy trying to get the King to kill all the Jews (sound familiar?) and the Jewish Queen Esther convincing the King that the bad guy is indeed bad, and thus saving the day.

It's an old story with both sexist and feminist implications but today it emerged with a new life – at least for me. Here's why: it's required that Jews hear the story of Esther, the Megiila Esther, read twice during the holiday. It's read with a melody – a "trope" that's quite lovely. Usually, in observant Judaism, men preside. Prayers and readings are the domain of the male voice. But women are "permitted" to read the Megilla for a gathering of women. It's a act of Jewish feminism. And that's what happened this morning.

I wish I could describe the emotion that arises as one hears the women's voices together, and the single voices, one by one, reading out the story. It's an act of faith, an act of love, really, but it's also an act of community – the community of women coming together to share the story of a feisty queen who overcame fear to save her people.

Of course you would be correct to suggest that the simplest solution would be to choose a branch of Judaism that has made its way past such rules and you'd be correct. But we've chosen, despite the difficulties, to live this life, partly because of the very community that produced this day. And it comes, as a friend reminded me last night, as a package. So there will be moments – many of them – of frustration and anger. Of a sense of deprivation and loss. And the, just when it seems terrible — something lovely happens. Something like today.

You Mean There Are Jewish Neighborhoods in PARIS????

I’ve been to Paris probably close to 15 times in the past 30 years; never has it disappointed me. But until I began living a more Jewishly observant life, I’d missed a huge part of it. Like virtually every other city in Europe, Paris has a “Jewish neighborhood.” Like virtually every other city in the world – (if they hadn’t been thrown out altogether) the Jews moved out of their old neighborhoods, as they did on the Lower East Side, leaving their stores and delis behind.
This neighborhood in Paris, in the Marais, is somewhere in the middle. Plenty of Jews are still there; plenty more have moved on. But the services, and especially the restaurants, groceries and bookstores — and several synagogues large and small — they’re still there. This is the bookstore where you can buy prayer books and Jewish history and Shoah books as well as candle sticks and other Jewish necessities. It’s not far from a primary school whose front entrance includes a tribute to the more than 100 Jewish children seized there during the German occupation of Paris, never to be seen again. Stand outside that door and you can’t help but imagine how it must have looked and sounded and felt that day.

On a lighter note though, since we’re Jews, there’s food. This is one of two competing falafel stands on Rue de Rosiers and the lines were enormous on this hot, sunny Sunday. In addition to residents and Jewish tourists wandering by, whole tour groups arrived to try the native fare. It was quite festive, actually.

Oh, and there’s a photo missing here. I was scared to take it. We were approaching the former home of Jo Goldenberg, the legendary Jewish restaurant in the neighborhood, internationally known even before it was bombed in the summer of 1982, killing six and injuring several others. It’s gone now, a victim of the times, but as we neared the empty building, police sirens in the ooh-aah sound European sirens make, blasted us, close by. They screeched to a halt outside and a policeman cautiously approached a bag siting on the stoop outside the former deli. Clearly frightened, he gingerly picked up the bag to put into the police van and move it from the area, now so full of tourists and shoppers. Unnerved, my husband and I sped away.

So you don’t get a photo. But I can tell you that the cop looked very scared. And just so you don’t think this is a lot of melodrama, I was in a synagogue in Vienna EXACTLY one week before it was bombed. I had my young son in his stroller. That next week, a mother died throwing herself on top of her child – in his stroller. So there’s more to hanging around a famous Jewish neighborhood that candlesticks and shwarma.

One more thing. It looks as if, again, like the Lower East Side, gentrification may complete the job that first persecution and then upward mobility began. Last year, a story appeared in AFP – the French wire service, with the headline: “Paris Jewish quarter fights tourism, commerce in battle for soul.” Fashion retailers and other high-end businesses want to be in what is now the “cool” neighborhood and let some of that cache rub off on them. The Jews? Well they’re fighting to keep their institutions and to remain a distinct community, but there’s no guarantee they’ll succeed. Until then, the Marais, in addition to great coats, shoes, bags and jewelry, remains the “Jewish neighborhood.” So get there while you can.

Support for Obama Among Jewish (and Other) Religious Voters is High

Wow. One of my twitter feeds just posted this link: Jews Unwavering in Support for Obama. It's a Jerusalem Post story but citing a Gallup poll, reputable and usually more conservative than other top-level pollsters.

Here are the numbers:

Approval through Obama's first 100 days in office

79% of Jews voted for Obama

79% of Jews

85% of Muslims
73% of nonreligious
96% of liberal Jews

77% of “moderate” Jews

45% of conservative Jews w/exactly 45% disapproving

CHRISTIANS:

67% of Catholics favored Obama

58% of Protestants

45% of Mormons

And here's Gallup's graphic of the entire breakdown:

Definitely interesting.

BARACK OBAMA, SARAH SILVERMAN, FLORIDA AND A COUPLE OF QUICK MEDIA THINGIES

The first one is this poster, which I found on Jason Rosenberg’s Facebook page. It’s not quite as good as "I am a community organizer" but it’s kind of cool.
The other thing is today’s New York Times story about The Great Schlep and Sarah Silverman video, which apparently has been screened more than 7 million times in the two weeks since it appeared! Basically, it urges Jewish grandchildren to lean on their grandparents in Florida to vote for Obama or risk the end of loving visits from the grand kids. Given her occasional forays into yukkiness, it’s actually pretty cute.

The Jewish Council for Education and Research, and co-executive director Ari Wallach, are creative, agile and smart and they’ve done a great job both of creating and promoting a very good idea. Even if few kids can afford to hit the beaches of Hallandale and Miami, they’ll get on the phone and make their case. And the press has loved it. If you missed the video, here it is.