9 life lessons from the highly learned the learned
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Trent and Ariel Waller love reading and cooking love and
Chabad’s activities at at University of Arizona University of Arizona
Homemade strawberry Homemade ice cream that’s dairy-free ice cream that’s
Jewish values shape Sheila Stolov’s leadership at Hermosa Montessori School School
EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR
Rabbi Yossie Shemtov
REBBETZIN
Chanie Shemtov
OUTREACH DIRECTOR
Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin
PROGRAM DIRECTOR
Feigie Ceitlin
Affiliates: Congregation Young Israel, Chabad at the University of Arizona, Chabad on River, Chabad of Oro Valley, Chabad of Sierra Vista, Chabad of Vail and Lamplighter Chabad Day School of Tucson
EDITOR
Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin
COPY EDITOR
Suzanne Cummins
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS
Zalman Abraham, Phyllis Braun, Seymour Brody, Feigie Ceitlin, Tzemach Feller, Mendel Kalmenson, Menachem Posner, Mordechai Schmutter, Benjamin Weiss
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Note: “G-d” and “L-rd” are written with a hyphen instead of an “o .” This is one way we accord reverence to the sacred divine name. This also reminds us that, even as we seek G-d, He transcends any human effort to describe His reality.
Over the last 20 years, I’ve had the privilege of coordinating an invitation-only summit that brings together some of the world’s greatest rabbis and Torah scholars each summer.
The Global Yarchei Kallah, held at Camp Gan Israel in Parksville, New York, takes place over a long weekend each August. During this time, participants study together and discuss Jewish thought and law with high-caliber peers. While their teachings are worth repeating, I’ve also found value in their behavior, mindset, and habits, which can serve as lessons to others.
Here are nine of them:
1. They value time.
When I called to invite Rabbi Chaim Shalom Deitsch, who heads the Tzemach Tzedek Kollel (advanced study institute) in Jerusalem, his wife said he would be home in 18 minutes. I later asked him how his wife knew precisely when he would be home. “Well,” he said, “services were going to conclude in 15 minutes, and it takes 3 minutes to walk home.” They calculate their time and honor it.
2. They take the long road - literally.
Rabbi Leibel Shuchat, Dean of Yeshiva Guedola of Venezuela, has lived in Caracas since 1985. Due to the country’s political turmoil, what was once a six-hour trip to New York has become a staggering 17-hour journey through Spain or Panama. But as anyone who studies Torah knows, acquiring it is a process and requires a long road— sometimes literally.
3. They respect themselves.
Rabbi Chananya Yosef Eisenbach, the late
By Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin
Dean of the Chabad Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, Israel, always carried himself with dignity. His clothing was simple yet impeccable, as the Talmud instructs (Shabbos 114a): “It is a disgrace for a Torah scholar to go out into the market with worn-out shoes ...” because one’s appearance reflects one’s status.
4. They don’t multitask.
As he prepared to pray, I noticed Rabbi Yechiel Kalmenson, Dean of Yeshiva Tomchei Tmimim in Burnoy, France, pausing for a moment of reflection. The Mishnah says (Berachot 5:1), “One should not stand up to pray except with a sense of reverence,” and he needed to enter that mindset. If it deserves one’s time, it deserves their full attention.
5. They practice disciplined flexibility. When Rabbi Sholom Ber Chaikin, posek (halachic authority) for Chabad of Northeast Ohio, studied Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, he circled specific laws to revisit later so as not to impede reaching his daily study quota. Learning requires both discipline and flexibility.
6. They will talk with anyone. During the summit, Rabbi Avraham Shemtov, its founder and the Chairman of Agudas Chassidei Chabad International, naturally welcomed and conversed with its accomplished participants. Yet, if a staffer or youngster approached, he treated them with the same respect, recognizing that each person is created in the image of G-d (Genesis 1:27).
7. They recognize individuality.
Rabbi Yisroel Friedman, the late Dean of Beis Medrash Oholei Torah in Crown
Heights, once arrived a few days early to the summit—to the delight of the camp’s staff members. When two of them asked to learn with him, he scheduled them at separate times. When I asked about it, he explained: “One is “fire,” and one is “water.” Each student has their abilities in learning, and combining them won’t work – for either of them. Each needs to be taught on their own level.”
8. They know their place.
During a heated scholarly debate, I expected Rabbi Aizik Landa, the chief rabbi of Bnei Brak —a city renowned for its Torah scholarship—to chime in. Instead, he stayed silent, recognizing the topic wasn’t his area of expertise. Despite his vast knowledge, he understood that others were more immersed in that particular subject and respectfully yielded to them.
9. They teach by example.
During their stay, the rabbis’ meals were served by young students who felt honored to serve their teachers. Yet Rabbi Zalman Wilschanski, the late Dean of Yeshiva Tomchei Tmimim in Morristown, NJ, always left each of them a tip. Though not financially wealthy, he valued expressing gratitude, reminding us that kindness should always guide our actions.
These are leaders of communities and rabbinical schools, revered sages, and wise scholars. Spend a few days with them—or a few minutes—and you’ll find there’s so much to relate to and to learn from them.
- Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin is the Outreach Director of Chabad Tucson, the Jewish network of Southern Arizona
As the University of Arizona kicks off the Fall 2024 semester on August 26, Chabad is gearing up to supercharge campus life with exciting new programs designed to boost Jewish identity and pride.
Under the leadership of Rabbi Shmulie and Sarah Shanowitz, Chabad at the UA will continue its cherished Shabbat dinners and festive holiday celebrations while introducing fresh initiatives to help students connect more deeply with their Jewish heritage.
Since the attacks of October 7th, 2023, and the subsequent rise in antisemitism globally, Jewish students at the university have demonstrated remarkable resilience and unity, says Rabbi Shanowitz.
“We’ve seen students step up in ways we never imagined, turning adversity into an opportunity for growth and connection,” he said. Sarah Shanowitz highlighted the increased student engagement: “We’ve seen a surge in attendance at our events. Students are seeking connection, meaning, and a sense of belonging more than ever.”
This fall, Chabad at the University of Arizona is thrilled to launch JewishU Academy, an innovative program designed to enrich students’ understanding of Jewish history, philosophy, law, and culture. Participants will earn academic credits and enjoy exciting rewards and trips.
In addition to this educational initiative, Chabad is organizing a unique Jewish festival on campus. This special event will celebrate and reinforce Jewish pride and identity.
Some of these activities were motivated by Rabbi Shanowitz’s recent trip to Israel. He joined a delegation of 200 fellow campus Rabbis from 14 countries, who showed support for their Jewish brothers and sisters in the Holy Land and participated in an empowering program.
The convention, organized by Chabad on Campus International, included visits to the Nova Music Festival site, Sderot, Sheba Medical Center, and many other significant sites that were viciously attacked by Hamas terrorists 9 months ago.
Among the people they met were Oren Laufer, the hero who, together with his father-in-law, Rami Davidian, rescued hundreds from the Nova festival; Rachel Goldberg-Polin and John Polin, whose son Hersh is still being held hostage in Gaza; and Soviet Refusnik and renowned human rights activist Natan Sharansky. They also met with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
The participants serving as directors of Chabad Houses on Campus attended this unique convention at a critical moment for campuses worldwide. Jewish students and their Rabbis have courageously endured the most challenging period for Jewish life on campus in recent memory throughout the past year.
Chabad at the UA has prided itself on providing a home away from home for Jewish students. In the wake of October 7, this has taken on a new meaning. Chabad is often the first point of contact when Jewish students are faced with antisemitism on campus. They respond with everything from a warm meal to practical guidance and any other means of support necessary.
“Our students knew about antisemitism, but most of them never experienced it like this in their lives,” Rabbi Shanowitz said. “Our job is to teach them how to stay strong, resilient, secure and not to let challenging times stop us from being who we are.”
Chabad’s traditional offerings, such as Shabbat dinners and holiday celebrations, have taken on new significance. “These aren’t just social events anymore,” Rabbi Shanowitz explained. “They’ve become powerful statements of Jewish continuity and pride.”
Yona Kleinerman ‘26, president of the Alpha Epsilon Pi (AEPi), a Jewish college fraternity in Tucson, said: “Being a firstyear college student on a large campus, you’re bound to come in contact with a vast spectrum of peers who come from various cultures, upbringings, and ways of life. Especially as a Jewish-Israeli student, it’s easy to lose sight of your home roots and the way you grew up.”
Kleinerman, who is from Austin, Texas, added: “Chabad gave me the familiar setting I needed to feel welcomed instantly upon my arrival at school. They showed me how to plant my old roots in new soil. I am extremely grateful to have them here with me.“
“The challenges we’ve faced have only strengthened our resolve,” Sarah Shanowitz concluded. “We’re here to ensure that every Jewish student at the University of Arizona knows they have a home where they can be proudly, joyfully Jewish.”
To get to her office at the Hermosa Montessori School, Sheila Stolov must move through rooms, workstations, and play areas, both indoors and outdoors. Whether inside or out, every area is showered with natural lighting and blessed with mountain views.
I walked with her as she made her trek, passed by the administration office, and continued through a shaded space with classrooms on the right and picnic tables scattered on the left. She then noticed a little boy with curly blond hair. He was standing in front of a bowl of clementines and had trouble peeling one.
Stolov, the school’s founder and principal, stopped in her tracks. “Would you like some help?” she asked.
He nodded in the affirmative.
“Here,” she said in an instructional tone, “you take your thumb like this and dig in.” She placed the clementine on the plate and encouraged him to peel the rest himself. The boy, who said his name was Westley, nodded again in gratitude.
“It’s important to follow the child,” Stolov commented as she went on her way. “We really need to get to know our children, follow their interests, and let them guide us. We need to give them the experiences they need to grow into whoever they’re going to be.”
Stolov walked to the middle school building on the 17-acre campus located in the Tanque Verde Valley, northeast of Tucson. It was designed to blend with the natural surroundings at the foothills of the Santa Catalina Mountains and the Coronado National Forest.
“A famous Tucson architect, Ron Fridlind, designed our school,” Stolov said, clearly
By Benjamin Weiss
proud of the outcome. Three hundred students learn in the charter school that runs from preschool through middle school, yet it doesn’t feel crowded because the onestory buildings and activities are spread across the property.
“I named the school Hermosa because we live in an environment where Spanish is spoken, and the word Hermosa means beautiful,” she noted. “I was mentored by Lena Wickramaratne, who played a very important role in my life.”
Wickramaratne, an educator from Sri Lanka, was personally guided by Dr. Maria Montessori, the Italian physician and teacher who developed the renowned educational method. Montessori principles emphasize independence, freedom within
limits, and respect for a child’s natural psychological, physical, and social development.
Stolov was studying at the University of Missouri in Kansas City, Missouri, when a friend suggested they hear a lecture by Wickramaratne. “I went to the lecture and then spoke to her,” she recalled. “Wickramaratne said that education in the Montessori way was my calling.”
The Macaroni Necklace
Walking through the paths of her school, Stolov commented, “Wickramaratne taught, and this comes from Montessori philosophy, that we should present the best of everything to each child, including beauty.”
“So everywhere you look, in every room, there should be beauty. That’s how I’ve created this space—everything shows that. The kids are meant to see beauty in everything, and the staff present themselves beautifully as well.”
We finally reached Stolov’s office, a small space sandwiched between two classrooms. There is a framed photo of Wickramaratne, but what mostly catches attention is the large windows, which allow Stolov to see the students and for them to see her.
“There’s one child in this class who has special needs,” she said. “I can see him from here and go over to him when he needs extra help. I can also look at the yard; if someone misbehaves, I just have to look at them.”
Children with special needs are how Stolov got started in education some five decades ago. “I first wanted to be a lawyer,” she admitted. “But in the 70s, that was still difficult for a woman.”
While in high school, she volunteered every summer to work with children with special needs. “I was good at it, and it felt like a meaningful way to contribute,” Stolov said. “During my first semester at Bradley University in Illinois, I knew education was where I belonged.”
After meeting Wickramaratne, she began teaching. In Tucson, she initially taught at a Montessori school and was inspired to establish one on her own. “When I first opened, the local school district fought me and there have been a lot of obstacles. It’s been a long journey, but it’s one I wouldn’t trade for anything.”
One major obstacle was funding, as she didn’t have enough money to invest. Several banks turned down her loan applications. She had one more meeting scheduled with
a loan officer and went to it directly from teaching in the classroom.
“During the meeting, I realized that I was wearing a necklace made of macaroni that I created with the students,” she recalled. “It was too late to remove it, so I explained what it was doing around my neck. It’s very possible that this was the moment that convinced them to give us a loan and build our school.”
Although the school strictly adheres to Montessori principles, Stolov’s personal approach is profoundly shaped by the values and upbringing rooted in her Jewish background.
Stolov was born in Kansas City, Missouri, where she grew up in a close-knit, familyoriented environment. Her grandmother and her brothers all immigrated from Russia and lived nearby. “Our life was going to school and then hanging out with cousins,” she said.
On weekends, the family celebrated Shabbat and went to the synagogue for services. However, her formal Jewish education left something to be desired. “Unfortunately, my Jewish education wasn’t very inspiring,” she admitted. “I went to Hebrew school, but it didn’t provide a deep connection.”
Despite that, the strong sense of family and tradition left a lasting impact, instilling in her values and principles that would guide her throughout her life and school. Each month, Hermosa focuses on a single “virtue,” which is discussed in class and at home. The virtue of the first week of August 2024 was purposefulness.
“Your background and your faith really drives what you do,” she said. “Judaism has been a guiding force in my life and always will be. That will never change—it’s just
who I am,” Stolov concluded.
One of the boys she met in her Kansas years was Ron Schifman. They dated once before each went on their way to college. They later reconnected and were married. Ron, a pathologist, was hired at the University Medical Center, which brought them to Tucson.
Today, they are parents to two children, Reuben, an environmental lawyer in Washington, DC, and Clara, a school psychologist and Director of Exceptional Student Services at Hermosa. They are blessed with two grandchildren and are looking forward to more.
“Once we were married, my mother-inlaw showed a newspaper clipping from the Kansas City Jewish Chronicle,” Stolov shared. “It had a notice about my Bat Mitzvah, and alongside it, there was a notice about a Bar Mitzvah of a boy named Ron Schifman. It’s now framed and hangs in our house.”
“It was bashert!” Stolov uses the Yiddish word to describe ‘meant to be’ or ‘planned by Heaven.’ She believes that the Almighty guided her most important decisions in life, and that gives her youthful energy to begin the new school year.
“It’s never been a job for me—it’s a passion,” she stated. “It’s an integral part of my life, and I can’t imagine ever leaving it completely because it’s been so divinely driven for me. Seeing these little ones come to us fresh, filled with joy and life, and being able to guide them is a real privilege and honor.”
She added, “Some of my students have come back as teachers, and now their kids are here. They call me Grandma Sheila.” Guided by her faith and sense of purpose, she plans to be there for them for however long she can.
When you first meet a person, you see what is in front of you, and you automatically begin to paint a picture of who the person is. You look at the clothes and facial expressions and make judgments and assumptions.
The woman sitting in front of me had a pleasant smile and a shoulder-length reddish-brown wig. Her dress was both stylish and elegant. She looked to me like a typical religious woman, a mother of seven. Probably nothing interesting to tell—if anything, maybe boring. But when we started to speak, I saw that she was far from typical! The calm presence and pleasant smile masked an incredibly strong force and a powerful story.
By Elana Mizrahi
Mina, born in the former Soviet Union, always knew that she was Jewish, but as a child had no idea what that meant—except for two things: her parents told her that being Jewish was very important, and they told her that she could marry only a fellow Jew.
When Mina was eleven, the Iron Curtain fell, and Mina was “free” to be openly “Jewish”—whatever that meant, because she didn’t know. At 13, she heard something about Shabbat and wanted to observe it religiously, but she had a problem. In the city where she lived, the school week was from Monday to Saturday, and by law she had to go. Her heart cried
out to G-d—she wanted to keep Shabbat.
On Wednesday of the week, she had asked G-d for guidance, and she received a notice from the school. The government was studying the productivity of students who received two days off from school instead of one. They picked one school from the thousands in the city—her school. There would be no school on Saturday for her! She celebrated that first Shabbat in her room, doing nothing. Darkness descended on her, and she didn’t reach for a light. Her parents told Mina that she was crazy. (At that point, Mina didn’t know that there was no reason to sit in darkness; you could leave on a light that was lit before Shabbat.) She told them that she didn’t care.
Mina spent her Shabbats alone and in darkness for three years. At sixteen, she had the opportunity to go to Moscow to study in a Jewish school for young women and girls. At the age of seventeen, she came to Israel, and two years later, she married.
Now, seventeen years later, Mina’s children take for granted that they live in such freedom, that there is light and kosher food every Shabbat, and that they speak the Hebrew language and learn the Torah openly. Mina tells me that she doesn’t really talk about those times. Her children are eons away and cannot understand.
When I asked Mina about her time keeping
Shabbat alone in the darkness, do you know what she told me? She told me that it was amazing. She felt that the Divine Presence was so close. She didn’t mind the discomfort; she felt like a queen sitting on a royal throne. She felt important and protected. She was in the presence of the King.
There is a certain day of the summer when the sun reaches its peak when the day is at its longest. There is so much light. From the breaking of the dawn until at last, the sun sets, there is so much light. And then, just as the days are getting longer and longer, they begin to get shorter. Tu B’Av, the fifteenth day of the month of Av, falls out just as the days start to shorten.
When the Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem, the annual chopping of firewood for the sacrificial altar was concluded on this day. Wood used for the altar was used for the highest purpose—to connect man and G-d through sacrifice. They couldn’t collect it after this day because there wasn’t enough sunlight to dry it.
Interestingly, Tu B’Av was also the matchmaking day. The daughters of Jerusalem would go out in simple white dresses to dance in the vineyards. Men would come, and they would choose a match. No one knew if you were rich or poor, from an important family or a simple one. There were no beauty contests or competitions. It was a day of connecting.
And it all happened on the day that commenced the shortening of days and the lengthening of nights. Why?
Because in life we have challenges, and these challenges bring you either closer or further apart. When you get married, you feel like you are at a peak. You look beautiful; your spouse looks beautiful. The future is bright and full of light. And then something pops up: a challenge. It could be financial, it could be related to having or raising children, or it could have to do with in-laws or family dynamics. It feels like a
dark moment. But if you use that moment to come together and grow from that challenge, it will bring you to heights that you could never have reached before.
Tu B’Av occurs at the the peak of the summer days, but it is also the beginning of the time that leads to the winter. The message for marrying couples in the years of it being celebrated with matchmaking was clear: “I’m marrying you not for money or beauty or honor. I’m marrying you so that we can grow together.” So, too, with our relationship with G-d: we have difficult moments, crises, and challenges.
We reach incredible spiritual heights when we use these times to turn to Him and cling to Him. We are given strength and understanding. It’s in those dark moments when the potential for closeness is greatest.
And when it’s light? When the year goes through its cycle and the seasons change once again, when we pass the winter cold and the days grow longer instead of shorter? We need to take that closeness and not forget it. We need to actually bring some of the darkness into the light because when there is too much light when you stare directly into the sun, the brightness blinds you, and you close your eyes, turning away from the light instead of towards it.
“Mina,” I told her, “don’t forget that closeness that you had in Russia! Don’t forget that the darkness brought you light and connection. Tell your children about it, and let them hear your stories, even if they don’t understand. One day, maybe they will understand. And during their own challenges, they will draw strength from those stories.”
- Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a women’s health & spiritual wellness coach, doula, massage therapist, and author of Dancing Through Life.
By Benjamin Weiss Weiss
Alittle about them:
Trent and Ariel were both born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona. He’s a U.S. Air Force JAG (Judge Advocate General) attorney stationed at Davis-Monthan AFB as the Victims’ Counsel. She’s a psychologist conducting autism evaluations.
Moving to Tucson:
They moved from Shreveport, Louisiana where they lived for two years while stationed at Barksdale Air Force Base. “We loved the people and Southern hospitality but are thrilled to be back in Arizona,” they said. “Tucson is an incredible community, and we are grateful to be a part of it.”
Currently reading/learning: We enjoy studying the weekly Torah portion together.
Favorite Mitzvah/holiday: Spending Shabbat alongside family and friends.
Cherished Jewish memory: Trent: Dancing the hora at our wedding. Ariel: Spending time in Israel with family.
Go-to Yiddish or Hebrew word: Oy (oh no in Yiddish).
Historical Jewish figure: Trent: Rabbi Akiva. Ariel: Queen Esther.
Define Chabad: Light, connection, Mitzvah.
Define Tzedakah: Responsibility, selflessness.
Define Happiness: Family, friends, community, purpose.
Hobbies: Reading and cooking together!
Comfort food: Trent: Sandwiches. Ariel: Malawah (Yemenite crispy pancake).
Something you’re looking forward to… Meeting everyone in town and being active and proud members of this community.
By Feigie Ceitlin
Ice cream is a classic dessert, perfect after a meal or as a refreshing treat during the last days of summer. However, due to kosher laws, serving store-bought dairy ice cream after a meat meal isn’t an option. That’s where this homemade dairy-free strawberry ice cream comes in handy—it’s not only convenient but also absolutely delicious.
INGREDIENTS:
- 10 oz sliced strawberries in sugar (defrosted)
- 2 egg whites
- 1 teaspoon lemon juice
- 16 oz Rich’s Whip
DIRECTIONS:
1. In a bowl, whip together the strawberries, egg whites, and lemon juice for 20 minutes.
2. In a separate clean bowl, whip the Rich’s Whip until stiff peaks form.
3. Gently fold the strawberry mixture into the whipped Rich’s Whip.
4. Freeze until firm.
* The blessing: Shehakol
Baruch atah A-donay, Elo-heinu Melech Ha’Olam shehakol nihiyah bed’varo.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe, by Whose word all things came to be.
B’tayavon!
— Rebbetzin Feigie Ceitlin is the program director of Chabad Tucson and head of school of Lamplighter Chabad Day School.
Is Judaism a religion of heaven or earth? Is Torah preoccupied with this world or the next? Where is fulfillment to be found?
The Sages teach: Without bread, there is no Torah.
The Hebrew word for bread, the foundational staple of the human diet, is lechem, a cognate of the word lochem: a warrior. This may seem incongruous, but Torah implies that we have a “spiritual battlefield” in our physical lives and so the two words have a connection.
Torah’s true mission is to bring heaven down to earth, to suffuse the physical world with spiritual energy and light.
The Torah’s concerns extend to everyday activities such as getting dressed, eating breakfast, or doing business. All of our actions fall under the purview of the Torah’s mission to Divinize our lives.
In fact, bread is used in Scripture and Rabbinic writings as a symbol for various forms of physical engagement, including marital relations. Every moment of life is thus a “battle”—an opportunity to open ourselves to the Divine Presence in that experience.
In many religions, the highest ideal is to remove oneself from all worldly pleasures for the sake of spiritual enlightenment. Judaism, on the other hand, teaches that the real battle is not to withdraw from the material realm in order to avoid the obstacles it presents to spiritual devotion, but to engage and uncover the spiritual purpose within one’s everyday activities.
An interesting example of this principle is found in the case of the Nazirite. A Nazirite was someone who chose to consecrate themselves to G-d by living a more
By Mendel Kalmenson and Zalman Abraham
reclusive, ascetic, and isolated lifestyle for a period of time. Surprisingly, these fervent spiritual seekers were instructed to bring a sin offering at the conclusion of their vow. In explanation of this curious law, the Talmud teaches that this was to atone for their misplaced self-imposed asceticism. In the words of the Jerusalem Talmud: “Is what the Torah forbade not enough that you must voluntarily forbid other things too?!”
Simply put, completely withdrawing from the sensual world is not the Jewish way to live a spiritual life. On the contrary, one’s true spiritual state is revealed precisely
in how one integrates one’s physical and spiritual needs and desires. This path of integration ultimately resolves the seemingly intractable dichotomy between spirit and matter that has troubled so many mystics and philosophers from time immemorial. From the Jewish perspective, the holy work of the spiritual warrior is to acknowledge and amplify the sacred presence within all aspects of existence.
For instance, the Talmud teaches: “A person’s true character is ascertained by three things: his cup [how he eats], his pocket [his financial dealings], and his anger [how he treats others].” Notice
that none of these examples include any specifically spiritual activities; they are, in fact, all about how one conducts oneself in material and social realms.
Moreover, when a person arrives in the World to Come, the first question he is asked is not about spiritual matters; rather, it is, “Did you engage in business with honesty?”
As Maimonides writes: “Just as a wise man is distinct in his wisdom and his character traits, and he stands apart from others regarding them, so, too, he must be distinct in his deeds, in his eating, in his drinking,
in his marital relations, in his use of the bathroom, in his speech, in his walk, in his clothes, in satisfying his needs, and in his business dealings. All such deeds of his should be especially pleasant and proper.”
The Talmud even compares one’s dining table to the altar in the Holy Temple: “When the Temple stood, the altar effected atonement for a person. However, now that the Temple no longer stands, a person’s dining table affects atonement for him.”
How does eating become a spiritual experience, let alone comparable to the service of the altar in the Holy Temple?
Simply put, the “battle of bread,” and by extension all permissible physical activity, is determined by our intention and approach. Eating can be an act of hedonism or an act of holiness, depending not only on what we eat but on how we eat.
The Torah states: For not on bread alone will man live, but upon that which issues forth from G-d’s mouth. In the Lurianic mystical tradition, this verse speaks of the spiritual potential hidden within the physical food we eat. The challenge is to recognize and consciously connect to the Divine energy present within the food, and all physicality. This is not so simple.
In overtly “spiritual” experiences, such as prayer, meditation, and fasting, we are focused entirely on the spiritual realm.
When we eat, or engage in any other physical act, it is much harder to remain conscious of the spirit concealed within the material world, as our physical appetites, when given free rein, tend to dominate our awareness. However, by cultivating the awareness of the food’s Divine origin and expressing that awareness by reciting a blessing before and after eating, we are able to align and integrate the physical and spiritual dimensions of our lives into a unified whole.
Furthermore, beyond the initial act of articulated awareness, for eating to be a truly holy act, we need to ensure that we utilize the energy we receive from the food to grow morally and spiritually in study, prayer, and good deeds.
In other words, Judaism encourages us to engage the world more deeply and directly, not less, by finding ways to contextualize our material pursuits and engagements within a spiritual framework, thereby elevating them and us.
Taking this spiritually embodied
that if a person’s home is compared to the Temple and their dining table to the altar, their bedroom is considered the Holy of Holies!
In Jewish tradition, acts of love and intimacy are not shameful activities that a couple engages in despite their religious devotions. Rather, they are considered acts of holiness when done in the right context and with the right intention. The notion of becoming “one flesh” and experiencing such unity with another is sacred inasmuch as it mirrors G-d’s oneness on high. Moreover, it is through marital relations that one comes closest to the act of creation itself by bringing new life into this world.
In a broader sense, marriage itself is a holy practice. Unlike other monastic traditions that idealize abstinence and encourage celibacy among their clergy, in Judaism, the high priest was not allowed to perform the service of Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, if he was not married. In fact, so critical was it for the high priest to be married when performing the holiest service of the year that a woman would be designated before Yom Kippur as his wife-
in-waiting should his current wife suddenly pass away on Yom Kippur.
The celebration and sanctification of all aspects of life and the human condition is Judaism’s response to the overwhelming urge to compartmentalize our lives into separate spheres—heaven and earth, soul and body, sacred and secular.
Similarly, many people perceive a separation between their religious and personal domains, leading them, for example, to see the synagogue as a place for spiritual life and their home as the personal space where they live out their mundane lives.
Against such a dichotomization, Judaism teaches that spirituality is not just the “battle” to find connection during prayer or meditation; rather, it is equally, if not more importantly, expressed and experienced in how and why we eat, sleep, relate, and do business.
And, therefore, while the synagogue is the place where we gather with others for prayer, our homes are the “Holy Temples” where heaven meets earth in the totality of our lives.
—An excerpt from People of the Word, by Mendel Kalmenson and Zalman Abraham, exploring 50 key Hebrew words that have been mistranslated and misunderstood for centuries.
Learn with Rabbi Yehuda Ceitlin and enjoy lunch from Mae's Kosher Kitchen Open to members of the wider community
Order lunch by Thursday morning: www.tinyurl.com/maeskosherkitchen For more information, email: nlevy@handmaker.org
by Asharon Baltazar
Israel’s battle against the terror regime of Hamas in Gaza over the last nine months has left many soldiers wounded. It led to the opening of a new rehabilitation department at Hadassah Mount Scopus Medical Center in Jerusalem.
Rabbi Menachem Kutner, Director of the Chabad Terror Victims Project, has been visiting patients there. He tells the following story.
“One patient I’ve met was Oz Yaakov. Head wrapped in clean bandages, he lay in bed as his parents, Tzuriel and Ranit, sat around him. We started chatting. Oz, a resident of Jerusalem, husband, and father, was wounded in Gaza, suffering shrapnel injuries to his head.
“As our conversation continued, Oz’s parents shared the remarkable story of his birth, which they attribute to the blessing of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Naturally, I was eager to hear more.”
Tzuriel, the father, said: “Seven years into our marriage, we still struggled with infertility. When treatment at the hands of the leading specialist at the Hadassah Ein-Kerem Medical Center continued to fail, our specialist recommended consulting another doctor at the Bikur Holim Medical Center. He had a treatment that might be of benefit to us.
“But there was one problem. Our insurance didn’t cover this innovative treatment, and the cost was prohibitively expensive. We wouldn’t be able to afford it.”
“I told my parents about it,” the mother, Ranit, continued. “My late father, Rabbi Asher Litov (Sharabi), Rabbi of Even Shmuel, said that he’d agree to finance the treatment if the Lubavitcher Rabbi would give his blessing. The truth is, we were surprised my father conditioned his help with a blessing from the Rebbe, but that
How a shrapnel wound in Gaza saved the life of an Israeli soldier
was his wish.”
“I turned to one of my Chabad friends,” Tzuriel continued, “and asked for his help contacting the Rebbe. I dictated every possible detail about our situation, and he wrote it all down and faxed it to the Rebbe’s secretariat. Half an hour later, my friend called me, voice trembling with excitement, expressing surprise at how quickly he had received the answer.
“The Rebbe’s response spanned three paragraphs. The first paragraph urged us to begin the innovative treatment,
while the second assured us he’d mention our names at the Ohel (gravesite of his predecessor). In the final paragraph, he bestowed his blessing upon us.
“The treatment proved successful, and in 1990, we welcomed our first daughter, Nesya, into the world. We immediately sent a letter to the Rebbe announcing our daughter’s birth.”
Ranit said, “Someone told us the Rebbe customarily sends a congratulatory letter for the birth of a child. We expected a response soon, but as weeks and months
passed, no letter from the Rebbe showed up.”
Tzuriel said, “In the following months, Nesya developed a leg condition. After attempting to treat the problem using non-invasive methods, the doctors decided there was no escape from surgery. On the day of the operation, amidst our anxiety, I suddenly found a letter from the USA in our mailbox.
“The return address was 770 Eastern Parkway – a letter from the Rebbe. I opened the envelope and found it dated to the birth of my daughter. Somehow, the letter was “delayed” for nine months, lost in transit, before arriving on the day of the surgery. The Rebbe’s blessing calmed us down, and thank G-d, the surgery proceeded smoothly. Today, Nesya is a mother of five children.”
Ranit said, “About two years after our firstborn, in 1992, we had twins, a boy and a girl. We called our son Oz and our daughter Hadar - Oz and Hadar.
“Thankfully, G-d’s blessings didn’t stop, and we merited to have six more children. May He grant us the joy of seeing all of them flourish.”
“To my surprise,” said Rabbi Kutner, “Oz tells me he is grateful to G-d for the shrapnel. In the hours following the injury, x-rays discovered a malignant tumor metastasizing in him. Doctors immediately placed him on an operating table and removed the growth. Now, he was on the path to recovery. The doctors told Oz that detecting the tumor this early saved his life, and if it wasn’t for the injury in Gaza, he might’ve discovered it too late.”
“My injury in Gaza was the best outcome I could have hoped for,” the wounded soldier said. It was a peculiar statement from a reservist recovering in a rehabilitation department with a head full of bandages.
By Seymour Brody
Emile Berliner introduced the flat disc to replace the cylinder in Thomas Edison’s phonograph in 1887. He patented his invention, which became the basis for the gramophone. The Victor Talking Machine Co. acquired his patent and mass-produced this new form of entertainment.
Berliner was born in Wolfenbüttel, Germany, in 1851 into a Jewish merchant family. He immigrated to the United States in 1870 and worked in various jobs ranging from shop clerk to salesman.
Though he had little formal education, having left school at age 14, he was intellectually curious and self-taught throughout his life. He became interested in electricity and, in 1876, began experimenting with Alexander Graham Bell’s newly invented telephone. He invented the loose-contact telephone transmitter, which he patented.
The Bell Telephone Co. bought his invention and hired him as its chief electrical instruments inspector. He
remained with the company for over a dozen years and continued his experiments with electricity while there and after.
Berliner married in 1881 while still working for Bell, but in 1884, he decided to leave a formal job and follow his cherished dream of becoming a full-time inventor.
This he did with inordinate success. He filed for patents and built companies around dozens of technologies. He invented products for the aircraft industry, including early designs for helicopters. (His son Henry continued his work, and their aircraft business was ultimately sold to North American Aviation.)
Emile built a company that produced and sold acoustic tiles to improve the audible sound in concert halls and theatres. He also developed a (then) new floor covering called parquet tile, which remained popular for decades.
Though his most important invention was probably the gramophone, he was often not
credited with this. Still, his success as an investor was indisputable. Berliner was much more than an investor and entrepreneur. He advocated for women’s equality, establishing the Sarah Berliner Research Fellowship for Women in 1908 in honor of his mother. It supported women studying physics, chemistry, or biology in either America or Europe.
He advocated for precautions to constrain the ubiquity of childhood illnesses. In 1924, he inaugurated the Bureau of Health Education to promote public hygiene and health education for mothers and children.
In 1899, Berliner wrote a book titled Conclusions, expressing his agnostic ideas on religion and philosophy. In the
following years, however, he supported the establishment of a Jewish homeland in the Holy Land of Israel and was very active on behalf of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. He was considered a staunch Zionist.
Emile Berliner, who died on August 3, 1929, left a legacy to America through his innovations and inventions, which his son Henry Adler Berliner continued with distinction and honor.
- Originally published in Jewish Heroes & Heroines of America: 150 True Stories of American Jewish Heroism (Frederick Fell Publishers, Inc.)
According to a recent survey, today’s fathers are less capable than their own fathers when it comes to do-it-yourself fixes, preferring instead to call a “guy.” Or their father.
Now, as a father myself, I’m not going to sit and talk about what my father does and doesn’t do in this department.
But I will say that I do plenty of fixes around the house. In fact, here’s a list of just some of the things I’ve done, though I have to say that many of them were done with the indispensable help of my wife (she reads this column…):
- For example, I’ve put together the desk I’m working on right now, which will probably not live as long as the desk in my boys’ room that my grandmother got me when I was six, but that speaks more to my skills as a breadwinner.
- I’ve successfully replaced the same cabinet door in my kitchen about 500 times, once someone showed me that all I have to do is buy a thin wooden dowel, widen the stripped screw hole using a drill bit, stick the end of the dowel in the hole, saw off whatever sticks out, glue the rest in there, and then reinstall the door by driving the screw into the dowel! This is exactly what your dentist does when you have a cavity. I’m thinking that I should buy a better-quality dowel.
- I also know what a dowel is. My wife taught me. It’s a handyman for “stick.”
- I’ve installed a great many pictures on walls, most of which fall if you get too close to them.
- I also installed a ladder in my backyard— sideways, in the ground. The ladder came free with the house, and now it’s a mini fence for my wife’s garden. It doesn’t keep
By Mordechai Schmutter By Schmutter
kids out, and it doesn’t keep animals out, but we no longer have a loose ladder lying around outside our house.
- I replaced the faucet on my laundry sink, which involved lying down under the sink and having a lot of unexpected water pour on me.
- I installed a paper towel dispenser in the laundry room that is so inconspicuous that my wife didn’t know it was there when all that water was pouring on me.
Point is, I am pretty handy to have around the house if you’re looking for a temporary solution to a minor inconvenience. So I don’t even know what the survey is talking about.
Yet, according to the article, “Millennial dads are less likely than their boomer counterparts to be able to change a car tire, unblock a sink, or even open a stuck pickle jar with their hands.”
Apparently, there are reasons for this decline. For example, one excuse that millennial dads are giving is that they spend more time with their kids instead. Which is an excuse, because you could always fix things with your kids aroundexcept for the things they break while you are fixing other things.
But it could be related. Let’s put it this way: Time was, men didn’t sit around talking about their feelings. They wanted
to avoid that, so they went off into the garage and tinkered with stuff. And, of course, Jewish men went off to learn, so they sat around doing that and didn’t get handy. But it turns out that just like getting good at learning by spending time at it, if you spend time fixing stuff, you can get good at that too, or at least luck into a fix.
And yes, Boomer dads could have spent time with their kids, teaching them how to fix things, but they didn’t want to because their kids kept getting in the way, holding the flashlight wrong, and learning colorful new handyman words (such as “dowel”). Also, the kids were the ones who broke the stuff in the first place!
So maybe, millennial dads figure, “Yeah, whenever I need to open a pickle jar, I call a guy. He charges 45 bucks for the call, and I have pickles. Then I can spend more time with my kids.”
One result of this shift, the survey found, is that modern dads don’t own a lot of tools. For example, 49% nowadays don’t own a ladder, 38% don’t own a screwdriver, and 32% don’t own a hammer. In case you’re looking for a good wedding present, those might not be on the registry, but still...
Okay, so I may not be great at fixing things, but I definitely have tools, which we keep in 3 strategic places (four, if you count the half-buried ladder). We have them in a drawer in our kitchen that we can’t open or close. We have a small set upstairs that includes a Kosher for Passover hammer that we use to open coconuts (my wife uses the chometz kitchen hammer to turn granola bars into granola).
Point is, this whole trend is something that we really need to fix.
I say we call a guy.
By Menachem Posner
1. What is the meaning of the name Blima?
A. Sweet
B. Docile
C. Flower
D. Joyous
2. Which of the following names is given as a blessing for a long life?
A. Alta
B. Toiba
C. Yenta
D. Chasia
3. What is the meaning of the name Shaina?
A. Bright, luminous
B. Pretty, nice
C. Change, progress
D. Prepared, efficient
4. What is the meaning of the name Freeda?
A. Peace
B. Freedom
C. Fried Chicken
D. Wigmaker
5. Which of the following names means “talkative”?
A. Yenta
B. Dvosha
C. Ganesha
D. None of the above
6. Which of the following names means “sweet”?
A. Zeesa
B. Bunia
C. Tzila
D. Basha
7. What is the meaning of the name Toiba?
A. Deaf
B. Goodly
C. Dove
D. Grapevine
8. Which of the following names is not Yiddish?
A. Yehudis
B. Raizel
C. Aidel
D. Breindel
9. What do the names Charna, Grunia, Breindel, and Gella have in common?
A. They were popular only in White Russia
B. They refer to colors
C. They can also be used for males
D. Absolutely nothing!
10. Which of the following names is Yiddish?
A. Chaya
B. Chava
C. Chasha
D. Chana
Answers: 1-C (Bluma is a variant that sounds like “bloom”), 2-A (Alt is Yiddish for “old,” wishing for a long life), 3-B (Shaindel is a variant of Shaina), 4-A (Freeda is related to the German name ederick,Fr meaning “ruler of peace” and not Frayda, which means “joy”), 5-D (Yenta was a fictitious character in ntury20th-ce Jewish pop culture in New York), 6-A, 7-C, 8-A (Yehudis or Yehudit, Anglicized as Judith, is ni the Torah), 9-B (Charna means “black,” Grunia is “green,” Breindel is “brown,” Gella is “yellow”), 10-C.
Monday, September 30, 2024
7:00 PM
Tucson JCC