Opinions

In Europe, after the Holocaust, Jews identified one another by asking, “Amcha?” meaning “your people” in Hebrew. The speaker was effectively asking, “I am one of Your (God’s) people; are you?” What a curious manner to self-identify after the cataclysm of the Shoah.

We have just begun the annual Torah cycle of reading Exodus. In Genesis we meet individuals: Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, etc. But in Exodus we encounter the narrative of “amcha,” God’s people. The exodus is the “root experience” of the Jewish people. We trace our history back to the exodus from Egypt, all of us, one people, walking together out of slavery. Slavery and the exodus forged disparate selves into a single “am,” a people covenanted with God. A Jew recognizes the history and destiny of the Jewish people as his/her own.

I have to imagine that not everyone, however, walked out of Egypt at the same pace. Older people often walk slower than younger; the weaker and lame walk slower than the stronger. Eventually Amalek attacked the stragglers and attempted to cut them off, earning him the label of archetypal enemy of the Jewish people. Haman and Hitler are descendants of Amalek, according to our lore. But instead of breaking into separate camps according to physical prowess, all of the people journeyed together.

The most repeated statement in the Torah, some 33 times, is, “You know the soul of the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

The Jewish soul knows suffering. We know the feel of slavery. God commands that we remember the experience, that we reach inside ourselves and extricate that experience, like a penitent recalling a determinative childhood lesson. We behave ethically regarding strangers because we occupied their position.

These Jewish lessons are not necessarily shared by other religions. They emerge from specifically Jewish moments in history, lived by Jews and passed on through generations. They comprise a huge motivation in Jewish ethics, to learn from our experiences how to treat others, because we are a community.

The United States often operates with a different motivation: “Take care of yourself and get as much as you can for your family.”  The poverty rate has increased 67 percent in Johnson County in two years, and over 38,000 people now live below the poverty level, more than the 33,000 in Wyandotte County to our north. Most critical in this debate, however, is this fact: The “haves” actually have much more than they ever did in comparison with the “have nots.” If we intend to continue the institutions that hold together our community: social welfare agencies that get their money from United Way or through taxes, our schools, our basic services provided by government, and yes, even Beth Torah, our congregation, then those who have more are going to have to contribute a higher percentage of their income.

I hear stories of children suffering from abuse and family problems, stories that would turn your stomach, because the state no longer has the money to fund the workers to make a difference, and this economic downturn among the least skilled has frankly caused some people to take out their anger on their families. We are not protecting the weakest among us.

The greatest responsibility must fall on those who have prospered more than others. The unemployment rate among college graduates is only 5 percent. But those who are hurting after several years of downturn are hurting badly. For only the second time in my rabbinic career, I am using my discretionary fund to save homes.

The very rich are earning sums that could save lives and social institutions. Even on the level on which most of us earn and live, we should consider doing more so that those who are suffering — losing homes, going without food, watching children suffer abuse — can be protected. Even at Beth Torah we are still waiting for dues to return to levels of two years ago. Those who can must step forward to preserve the agencies and institutions that give us our values. There’s no other way.

During the Exodus I don’t imagine that the young and strong ran ahead to flee Egyptian persecution on their own. In their excitement, our people united. “We all travel together, or we all stay behind.” Together they succeeded. It’s much easier with a dynamic leader like Moses, but it’s possible at anytime. I ask that you give it some thought. What is your role in moving us ahead together? And every bit as poignantly, what will happen if you don’t?

This article was originally published in the January 2011 editor Congregation Beth Torah’s newsletter, Tekiah.

Kibbutz Gezer, Israel — The IsraelExperts team (a provider of Israel education and tours) has been traveling Israel very much on both sides of the fence the past few weeks (figuratively and literally).We’ve taken several groups into Palestine — including an A meinu mission as well as another organization often viewed as politically to the right. With equal passion I have found myself arguing with people on both the left and right of the political spectrum. I find the discussions to be emotionally draining and immensely painful for two reasons. First, that thoughtful, rational and intelligent people make proposals I view as radical, immoral and unethical. Second, that at the same time, part of my own “hardened heart” is softened and touched by their arguments — both appalled and empathetic at the same time. I’m constantly walking both sides of the fence as a pro-peace Israeli. Being concerned about the future and security of Israel means looking in the mirror and facing the troublesome narrow-mindedness in our society and working toward change.

Today I’m back in the office and considering whether we must think about changing itineraries for groups heading south to do programs at unrecognized Bedouin villages in the Negev with NISPED: Negev Strategies of Peace & Development http://www.nisped.org.il/, and on the Gaza-Israel-Egypt boarder at Kirot Yamit http://www.eshkol.lanegev.co.il/kirotyamit.html. We check daily with the security services to ensure that it is safe to travel to these areas, and cancel the programs if necessary.

It’s a constant struggle not to sink into despair. Religious and political leaders preach hatred and racism. We’re faced with more and more calls for boycott, divestment and sanctions. Rockets are falling; friends and family are in the army. Hunger, violence and humiliation are part of the daily routine for Palestinians.

On the other hand, evaluations of one of our programs led us and our partners to the conclusion that we must also focus on the magnificent sparks of light shining in the darkness of the matzav (the “situation”) here in Israel and Palestine. It’s imperative that we give support to those individuals and organizations working toward change and having a positive impact. They present the issues — and also how we can make a difference. They provide hope and inspiration that cooperation, dialogue and change are not impossible.

• Young orthodox Israeli Jews protesting against racism (https://sites.google.com/site/gerimheyitem/home)

• Over 200 Israelis attended a gathering organized by South Africans who made aliyah “inspired by the vision of an enlightened, moral society and state that are both meaningfully Jewish and genuinely democratic” many of whom are deeply distressed by bitter travesties of that vision happening around us every day and want to do something.

• Rabbis for Human Rights efforts to support Palestinian olive farmers www.rhr.org.il/

• At Kibbutz Ein Shemer young Jewish and Arab Israeli leaders are involved in a variety of coexistence and ecology endeavors impacting the next generation www.grenhouse.org.il

• A leadership group from the University of Kansas Hillel (funded by the Jewish Federation of Greater Kansas City) spent the weekend in home hospitality with young Jewish and Arab Israeli leaders from Ramla involved in dialogue and community activism through Keshatot www.kshatot.co.il/.

From out of the troublesome narrowness I called to G-d
G-d answered me with openness
G-d is with me in those who help
(Psalm 118:5, 7)

When you discuss and debate Israel, and especially when you come here (and please come here!), be sure to take time to appreciate the magnificent sparks of light.

Originally from Kansas City, Steve Burnstein heads the education division at IsraelExperts. He has an M.A. in Jewish education from the Jewish Theological Seminar of America, and is currently completing his rabbinic studies at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College. Locally, he served as educator at Congregation Beth Torah from 1989 to 1994. Steve made aliyah in 1997 and for many years was the associate director of the Pinat Shorashim Seminar Center at Kibbutz Gezer, where he lives with his family.

Talented rabbi

Because I am not a member of the New Reform Temple of Kansas City, I can make no judgment about the temple board’s decision not to renew the contract of Rabbi Jacques Cukierkorn, as was reported recently in the Chronicle.

But I can say that I came to know the depth of this wonderfully talented man as he and I worked together to write our recent book, “They Were Just People: Stories of Rescue in Poland During the Holocaust.” He is a man of deep integrity, of wit, of imagination and of both passion and compassion. He is, in addition, as intensely committed to Classical Reform Judaism as I am to the Reformed Tradition of Protestant Christianity.

I don’t know what the future holds for him but I do know that anyone he serves as a rabbi in the future will be blessed to have him.

Bill Tammeus
Kansas City Star “Faith Matters” blogger
blog: http://billtammeus.typepad.com

The community’s loss

Over the past 33 years that I have lived here in the community, including the three years that I served as rabbi of a local congregation, there has been a marked development in certain areas, not the least of which in the level of integration of local Jewry within itself.

Initially, I experienced the New Reform Temple as existing in the periphery of the community, being only nominally visible to, and impactful on the rest of us. Over the past 10 years, however, since the tenure of Rabbi Cukierkorn as its rabbi, New Reform has been brought into the mainstream of local Jewish activities and projects, with its spiritual leader having been elected by his colleagues twice as president of the local rabbinic association.

This has been no mean transformation.

It is, therefore, with dismay and surprise that I learned of the action of the Temple leadership, vis-a-vis its rabbi, in apparent disregard of these developments, in not continuing its relationship with him in the future. I genuinely feel it will be a loss to all of us and express my regrets accordingly.

Rabbi Gilbert L. Shoham, M.A., Ph.D.

According to www.urbandictionary.com, Jewdar is the innate ability to detect Jewishness in another person. It is short for Jew-radar. It is like a sixth sense. I am quite proud that I have a quite finely attuned Jewdar. Since Jews are such a small minority in Kansas City, I get to use my “Jew finding” skills often. I usually accomplish this by searching for fellow Jews in large crowds of people wherever I go.

Naturally upon entering a room, a restaurant, the movies, etc. ... I look to see who I know, who is Jewish, etc. ... Perhaps this is a small town thing or perhaps it is human nature. We usually seek and gravitate toward those that we feel a connection to because they are similar to us. While on vacation in Miami for 10 days, my Jewdar was running on overdrive! It is very weird to walk into my favorite South Florida deli, Mo’s in Aventura, and realize that in this particular place it is easier to pick out the non-Jews, because almost everyone is Jewish. Russians, Latin Americans, Ashkenazim, Sephardim, Israelis … you name a possible Jewish group and I guess they can be found at Mo’s Bagels & Deli.

It became a game for me to try to observe people and not only identify them as fellow Jews but try to figure out where they were from. Since Mo’s is one of the closest restaurants to where we were staying, we ended up going there quite often. I was charmed by a certain waitress that not only was obviously Jewish but had something quite heimish (familiar) about herself. Her demeanor reminded me of the people in Kansas City. With great surprise I found out not only that she was originally from Saint Louis but after a few moments, we could identify some people we knew in common. I managed to combine two out of the three top Jewish games, a Jewdar with Jewish geography (the third top Jewish game is kvetching — trying to convince someone that your tsuris is greater than his or hers).

Ultimately, these two Jewish activities, having a Jewdar and playing Jewish geography are all about our need to find our own wherever we go as well as figuring out how to connect with them. I believe that this is due to “Kol Israel arevim Ze Laze; All of Israel (all Jews) are responsible for one another.” I always feel less alone and less of a stranger anywhere I go, if I know there are other Jews around. As Jews we define ourselves in the collective, as a people. Most of our important prayers, like the Vidui on Yom Kippur, are said in the plural. When I travel, I seek Jewish sites because they give me a sense of belonging even in places that are totally foreign. The farther we travel, the more we want to find the familiar.

In a bad light

With a great deal of surprise I read the article “NRT rabbi’s contract not renewed” (Dec. 31). As a result, I am concerned about the impact of this news on the NRT congregation, as well as on our community at large.

During conversations with members of the New Reform Temple (NRT), several people expressed total surprise, not only that Rabbi Cukierkorn had been dismissed by the board, but the way in which it was done. One elderly member, who doesn’t want to be identified, said to me, “I knew that there was some bad blood between one or two board members and the rabbi, but Rabbi Jacques has done wonderful things for our congregation. I wish they had asked my opinion before firing him.” A couple confided that their family will gladly follow Rabbi Cukierkorn to his next post.

Technically, a board is entitled to hire and fire the rabbi, but a good board seeks outside intervention, if needed, to resolve conflict. More importantly, a board worth its salt considers the impact of firing its rabbi, as a private act of the board, on the whole congregation. In effect, from the feedback I received, it appears that even transition planning was an afterthought in this event.

Personally, I’m concerned that when we do not apply the Jewish principles that we espouse, especially to our own religious leaders, it puts our community under a bad light.

Eduard de Garay
Overland Park, Kan.

Bewildering decision

Thank you for your coverage (Dec. 31) of the decision by the board of the New Reform Temple to dismiss the Temple’s rabbi of 11-plus years. Your coverage began with the announcement of the dismissal by the temple president, but I am still puzzled by the board’s bewildering action.

As you reported, the Temple has thrived under the rabbi’s leadership: Membership is up. Service attendance is up. The variety of services provided by the Temple is up. Likewise ingenuity, vivacity, intellectual challenge.

Thanks to the rabbi’s creativity, we, as congregants, have enjoyed guided tours of the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art that have focused on Jewish themes. Thanks to his energy, we have engaged in lively discussions (over lunches and even during Sabbath evening services) of issues that are critical to us — as Jews, as Americans and as citizens of the world.

And, as you note, thanks to his scholarship, we, as a congregation, have benefited from the prestige that flows from having a rabbi whose literary endeavors have been translated and published for a global readership.

All this, you would think, would be dayenu ... enough. That he accomplished all this while continuing to offer the very best of the more traditional, even routine, services one expects from a rabbi: encouragement in learning, consolation in grief, companionship in Jewish life.

I have lived long enough and been blessed enough to have known some pretty great rabbis, but none as accessible, as enthusiastic, as creative, as entertaining or as pleasant as Jacques Cukierkorn.

The board, by contrast, has shown itself to be aloof, narrow-minded, arrogant and cowardly. It neither seeks the counsel of the congregation before firing the rabbi nor stoops to explain its decision after the fact.

If, as Thomas C. Barnett, board president, would have us believe, the decision to fire Rabbi Cukierkorn were truly “the culmination of a long and thorough process,” why is this the first that the congregation has heard of it? Where are the artifacts of that process? Mr. Barnett concedes “the progress the congregation has enjoyed during [Rabbi Cukierkorn’s] leadership.” But he offers no hint as to how that progress may have fallen short of the board’s expectations.

Decisions as momentous as this in the life of a synagogue should originate with the congregation and end with the ratification of the board. They should not begin and end with the board.

John LaRoe
Member, New Reform Temple 

My name is Lilach Nissim, and I’m Kansas City’s new Israeli emissary (shlichah). I arrived in Kansas this November to work on staff at the Jewish Federation of Greater Kansas City. My main job here is to educate Kansas Citians about Israel — wherever there is a need.
As you can imagine, I’m very excited to be here. And after two months in Kansas City, I understand how right it was for me to become an emissary in Kansas City. You have a warm and welcoming community, and I want to thank everyone for your hospitality and kindness.

For me, becoming an emissary is fulfilling a dream of mine. I feel that at this point in my life, I have the skills and the experience to make a contribution to your community. During the last nine years I have worked in the informal education field; from educating special needs students, to running projects that provided opportunities for students to help within their community, to ensuring adults had the proper assistance they needed to study in college. As I worked in each of these positions I learned a great deal about myself, about the importance of helping the community and about Zionism.

But where I really learned the most was from my most recent job in Sderot. During this time, I had the great opportunity to re-examine everything I had known up until that point.

Until this past summer, I worked for three years in Sderot. If you don’t know Sderot, it is a city in the south of Israel that has suffered from constant rocket attacks from Gaza. During my time in this devastated city, I coordinated a program for at-risk children, ran a club for at-risk teenagers, and coordinated a teenage volunteer corps in the city.

My first day in Sderot — to sign my work contract — was the first day of the biggest and most aggressive rocket attack that was yet to happen there. Back then, I understood nothing about life under attack. Although I served in the army, I never experienced a situation like that. And because I was the only one who worked in that program who lived outside of Sderot, everybody thought I was crazy to stay.

But remain in Sderot I did. And I learned many things there. I learned the meaning of the word “courage.” I learned the unity of faith. I learned that nothing is what it seems.

I saw good people opening their homes to provide shelter to those who were caught in the street during an attack. I saw strangers have a heart to heart conversation about the situation. I saw children who were braver than adults. I learned not to judge from the teens I worked with, and how love is an important component in education. Mostly I learned how we all need to take action and responsibility for the lives around us.

I learned the true value of Zionism, just like they taught us at school, when it was a distant word out of history books. I learned how an entire nation, in the Diaspora and in Israel, are joining and working together for one important cause. I learned about the strength of that nation: not just how it survived through history, but its determination and the faith of the people. In other words, our collective Jewish values.

For me, Israel is much more than fights and terror attacks. For me, Israel is not a history of death. It is a history of life. It is the burning bush. And through the burning, it will never stop prospering.

Israel’s achievements in technology, science, agriculture, and economics are great. At the same time, Israel is not a perfect country. How can we expect a state that is only 63 years old, that accepts immigration in large scales, that deals with a very difficult security situation, that has few natural resources, to be perfect? To expect Israel to be perfect is unnatural. Most countries existing under these kinds of conditions are third-world countries.

But with Israel, that is the miracle. This is how the burning bush continues, against all odds. The state of Israel leads a modern and democratic life, with successes in many areas. It even consults with other countries in economics, technology, agriculture and security. Indeed, we have a lot of work to do, but it’s possible for Israel to succeed against all odds.

As an Israeli, it is very frustrating to watch helplessly as the news reports around the world discuss what is going on in Israel. More than once, I’ve thought of the Jews around the world: What do they feel when they watch the news? Are they ashamed of the Jewish state? In spite of these thoughts, I believe that the Jews in the Diaspora truly understand that the state of Israel is a source of pride for them and how — together — we can help improve the things that need to be improved in Israel.

So I hope to see you all experiencing a little bit of Israel in Kansas City. We have many upcoming community events, including Israeli movie nights, various workshops and other Israeli activities. Please feel free to contact me with any ideas you have about sharing Israel and Israeli life in Kansas City. You can reach me at (913) 327-8124, , or on find me on Facebook, search for Lilach Nissim Shlichah.

(Editor’s note: Lilach Nissim plans to write a regular monthly column about her experiences as Kansas City’s Israeli emissary.)

A special thanks

My name is Sagi Rudnick, (a fourth-grader at the Hyman Brand Hebrew Academy) and I recently participated in your Chanukah Art Contest, co-sponsored by The Chabad House. I want to thank you all for having this contest not only because I was excited for the prizes, but thanks to you and your contest, I now have a beautiful new chanukiah that I actually used this past Chanukah with my family (and at Congregation Ohev Sholom’s Chanukah party).

I was so excited to make my chanukiah out of stone and glass. Therefore, I also wanted to thank Sam Nachum and Ben Nachum, of Jerusalem Stone, for welcoming me into their shop and work studio. They let me wander around and collect the stone supplies that I wanted to use for making my chanukiah.

Finally, I thank Bearden’s Stained Glass for suggesting what kind of glass I could use for holding the oil on each branch of the chanukiah. They introduced me to the art of stained glass and helped guide me to decide which paint to use to paint the glass oil-holders yellow.

I am really proud of the chanukiah that I made, and I am happy to live in a city and be part of a community where a 10-year-old boy who wants to make a really special chanukiah can get all the support he needs.
Todah rabah!

Sagi Rudnick
Prairie Village, Kan.

So what happens to those cranky kids who whine until mom agrees to drive through McDonalds for a Happy Meal of a burger and fries? Earlier incarnations of those whiny kids in Kansas City might have pleaded for burgers at Winstead’s original restaurant on the Plaza, or maybe even Wimpy’s on Troost. The kids grow up, eventually. And, though they later find themselves saddled with problems that loom far larger than the ones that plagued their collective youth, they still crave those burgers. Enter BRGR (4038 W. 83rd, Prairie Village), and other such establishments, that have found a way to harness the iconic burger for those of us who have grown up. Gotten older, anyway.

BRGR’s décor is well-suited to the sophisticated comfort food that the restaurant serves. The place is wide open and bustling with activity — including the kitchen at the back. Upon entering, the main dining area is to the right and to the left is a smaller cove with tables for dining amid the bar area. It can get loud and busy in here, even during a weekday night — an utter blessing for those with kids roughly 6 and under. Most of the waitstaff is dressed whimsically in a sort of auto mechanic garb, with the “brgr” where a mechanic’s name would be emblazoned. This is somehow charming, and in no way detracts from BRGR’s serious approach to food. There is precedent for this, in town. Oklahoma Joe’s serves fine barbecue from a kitchen that literally shares building space with a gas station.

A number of local spots — chains and otherwise — try to do this upscale burger thing. BRGR is one of the more complete restaurants of this sort. Having previously sampled burgers from the menu’s extensive selection, we vowed during one visit to check out some of the less “obvious” offerings Appetizer fare is solid. We sampled the Fired-Up Chicken Wings ($8), a plate of five full wings seasoned with a flavorful (though not spicy) dry rub, and a Cajun butter. It’s hard to find the full wing, these days; most places opt for those sadly diminutive “drummies.” These were a little smaller than the freakishly large, locally famous version served at the Peanut, but still good-sized, and crispy outside and moist inside. We also opted for Fried Little Asparagus ($8). It turned out that there was nothing “little” about these generous spears of asparagus, served in a crispy and lightly seasoned batter that allowed the fresh taste of the asparagus to prevail. I confess to shaking just a bit of salt on the fried spears, which were perfectly cooked — not overdone and mushy like some versions served as sides at many restaurants that seem like they were dumped from a can.

One can’t miss non-burger option at BRGR is the Wedge (Salad) ($2.50, $8) (can be ordered sans bacon). It was the best version of this steakhouse salad classic that I have had, anywhere. Atop a dense, crunchy iceberg wedge, were tomatoes, superb blue cheese dressing with a wealth of blue cheese chunks, a drizzle of olive oil and (oddly) walnuts, which themselves seemed to put this salad into another stratosphere. Why haven’t other places thought to throw on some walnuts? Such a simple touch.

Sandwich options abound outside of the traditional burger realm. One friend sampled the Portobella Mushroom ($8) (from the described “Not-So-Burgers” section). This sandwich of marinated, grilled and flavorful Portobello mushrooms was on tasty, buttered ciabatta slathered with a light herb spread and watercress salad. Another dining companion had never tried Kobe beef, and wanted to see how it compared with the American burger she had eaten her whole life. Kobe beef comes from cattle fed a special diet, pampered and raised in Kobe, Japan. She ordered the Kobe Beef Sliders ($10), three thick sliders served on truffle brioche buns with oven-dried tomatoes, onions, provolone and “special sauce” (tasting prominently of BRGR’s house-made ketchup, a rich condiment that had a slightly smoky flavor — though kids and select adults who eat here may request the more mundane and familiar Heinz version). Our companion wanted to order the sliders “well-done,” which our waitress wisely advised against. Though they compromised on “medium-well,” the sliders arrived in the ballpark of medium rare to medium. Candidly, it seemed wrong to cook the superior Kobe beef anywhere beyond that. This same waitress exhibited solid menu knowledge, paced the meal well, and was sweet and patient with our kids — even when our tired 2-year-old napped all through one dinner with his little head on the rustic table.

At the end of the day, though, this is a burger joint — albeit a rather fancy one. BRGR serves half-pound burgers of Certified Angus Beef, ground fresh daily. On one visit, I had the Out-N-In Burger ($8), stuffed inside with fontina cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and onions, topped with the same “special sauce” served atop the Kobe sliders. These are quality burgers. “Grown up” burgers. I ordered mine medium, and it was just slightly charred on the outside, and had a little bit of pink on the inside. Another good “stuffed” burger, aptly listed within a section of “historical burgers,” was the Jucy Lucy ($8), mixed with Worcestershire sauce and stuffed with American cheese, on a Kaiser bun This rendition emanates from a burger battle that has its roots on one street in South Minneapolis where two different bars claim to have invented the sandwich — of distinction for putting the cheese within instead of atop the burger. Any burger on the BRGR menu can be upgraded to a bison or Kobe burger for $2. A fried egg can be added for a buck. An over-easy fried egg enhances many burger options, and just about anything else, for that matter.

Bag chips will commonly do for an outdoor cookout or barbecue, but not at a place like BRGR; nor would basic, run-of-the-mill fries suffice — although they exist, here. BRGR Fries ($2.50), were perfectly fine and crispy — maybe slightly thicker than McDonald’s fries — and will be satisfactory for kids (and most adults). But three other side options were noteworthy. My favorite was the Truffle Tater Tots ($4), a gourmet version of this treat that may obliterate one’s ability to eat these from the freezer at home ever again. Sweet Potato Fries ($2.50) were dusted lightly with sugar, cooked to a crispy finish, and could almost be eaten for dessert. The Onion Rings ($4.50) were large, thick-sliced onions with a crunchy, well-seasoned batter. A good approach is The Combo ($7), which affords the opportunity to sample three different options from the “Fries, Rings and Tots” section.

During our last visit to BRGR, I was struck by the diverse clientele that filled the place: two young professionals in business suits, six middle aged men attired in nostalgic collegiate motif, a family with two children under 5 — perched atop high chairs and slurping milk, and dipping fries in the ketchup that had surely not been made in-house. BRGR is about reaching across generational lines on the basis of the comfortable food on which we can all agree. Burgers. Fries.
And all that other stuff.
Food:♦♦♦ ½
Atmosphere: ♦♦♦ ½
Service: ♦♦♦½
Out of four stars

The struggle for civil rights for all Americans was a pivotal time in our history.  Now you can witness with your own eyes the places that history was made. 

You may have seen the televised footage of the fire hoses and the dogs turned against Black southerners and those who chose to stand with them.  The scenes from the Edmund Pettus Bridge, the courage of Rosa Parks and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. are etched in the life of our country — and for some of us, in our memories. 

The Jewish community was deeply involved in that effort. It was a time when we stood together — brothers and sisters — facing the forces of bigotry and racism. Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner gave their all with their colleague James Chaney as they tried to register Black people to vote. When Dr. King was preparing for a march, he would say to an organizer, “Get me a couple of rabbis to walk with us.” And they came; Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel linked arms with Dr. King as they marched from Selma to Montgomery. They walked to fulfill the words of the Torah: Justice, Justice Shalt Thou Pursue.

You can gain an understanding of that experience. Congregation Beth Torah, the Jewish Community Relations Bureau|American Jewish Committee and The Kansas City Globe are sponsoring a historic opportunity for Black and Jewish adults to make that trip together.

At a recent meeting at St. James United Methodist Church, members of the Black community expressed sincere interest in sharing this journey with the Jewish community. The response was heartwarming and rewarding. We need an equal response from the Jewish community to make this trip a reality.

We will leave Kansas City on Thursday evening, Feb. 10, and visit historic sites in Montgomery, Selma and Birmingham, Ala., as well as Atlanta. We will join with our fellow Kansas Citians at the Edmund Pettus Bridge, at the 16th Street Baptist Church, the King Center for Non Violent Change and the Rosa Parks Museum. The itinerary also includes attending services at the Ebenezer Baptist Church

The cost for the weekend includes travel from place to place in a luxury bus, three-nights in hotels, meals and entrance to all sites. The land costs are $650, double occupancy, (single supplement $130). Air travel round-trip from Kansas City is approximately $300.

Please consider being part of our group; you will not be disappointed in the experience. What better time than now to come together in the spirit of that time in our history?

For more information, including an itinerary, contact Sarah Levinson, JCRB/AJC assistant director, . You may also contact me at .

The time is short; a deposit of $100 is due by Jan. 1 and final payment is due by Jan. 15. I look forward to seeing you!

Judy Hellman recently retired as the associate director of the Jewish Community Relations Bureau|American Jewish Committee.

QUESTION:  I recently attended a funeral and noticed the “black ribbons” on extended family.   By that I mean they were being worn by grandparents, aunts and uncles and other relatives who do not sit shiva.  Is that inappropriate?  Secondly, I also heard at a different funeral the rabbi announce that anyone could join in the Kaddish in memory of the loved one who had passed as long as they had lost a parent.  What is all that about?

ANSWER:  You are absolutely correct.  The people who cut kriyah, the cutting of one’s garment that one does at the time of the loss (or the black ribbon that one wears if one is more liberal) is performed only for shiva relatives.  By shiva relatives I mean those loved ones that we lose for whom we sit shiva.  That would include a spouse, a mother or father, son or daughter, and a brother or sister.  Any other relatives even if we feel very close to them such as grandparents or grandchildren or aunts and uncles or in-laws are not officially mourned nor do we sit shiva for them.  It would therefore be inappropriate for those people to wear black ribbons or cut their garments.  Some liberal rabbis meaning well for the purpose of inclusion in trying to make the extended family feel better at such a time of sorrow often will include other members of the family in the “ribbon wearing.”  Halachically, or according to Jewish law, that is inappropriate.  Shiva is reserved for only those relatives for whom official mourning is dictated by Jewish law.  As a matter of fact, very few of the mourning laws are found in the Torah.  Ironically the laws of cutting one’s garment and whom one sits shiva for are found specifically spelled out in the Torah.

The saying of Kaddish is an entirely different subject.  Kaddish is obligated in Jewish law only for a parent, a blood mother or father.  Any other relative even if it is a shiva relative such as a brother or sister or spouse does not mandate the saying of Kaddish.  Many individuals opt to say Kaddish for the full eleven months for a spouse or a brother or sister or other relatives.  That is very meritorious but not mandated by Jewish law.  One can say Kaddish for anyone as long as they are of the Jewish faith.  We had a member of our congregation who said Kaddish for an entire eleven months for a close friend — that is what I call commitment!  It needs to be spelled out however that all these examples of saying Kaddish for friends or distant relatives is by choice and not mandated by Jewish law.

If one understands a little bit of the history of the mourner’s Kaddish then perhaps I can more easily answer your question about Kaddish being reserved for those people who have lost a parent.

Originally the mourners Kaddish was known as “the orphan’s Kaddish.”  In Hebrew it is still called that.  The Kaddish was designed specifically for a pre-Bar Mitzvah youth to be able to say memorial prayers for his late parent.  Since children could not lead services or do anything else that adult mourners could, the mourners Kaddish was created as a child’s prayer for their late parent.  Knowing that we now understand that this Kaddish that we call the “mourners Kaddish” is really a Kaddish for someone who has lost a parent.  It was only in later years the the saying of Kaddish for other relatives was added.

Because of that the tradition developed that one does not say Kaddish if one’s mother or father are both still living out of respect to them.  An exception is made if one asks permission of both one’s mother and father that they do not object to one’s saying Kaddish, it can then be recited.