September/October 2024
Shofar. Russia. 19th century
Donated to the Percelay Museum by Essie Einstein,
in memory of her parents who perished in in the Holocaust.
Remembrance of Things Past
Autumn is near, and with it the call to reflect on the season that has passed, as well as the opportunity to plan for the season to come.
The High Holy Days are almost upon us. The Hebrew words, Rosh Ha-Shanah mean, literally, “the head of the year;” yet oddly, this sacred occasion is not celebrated on the first day of the first month of the Jewish calendar, as we might expect. In fact, the Torah does not call this day ”New Year” at all, but merely, Yom Teruah (literally, “the day of trumpet blasting, “) stating in Numbers 29:1 that it takes place “on the first day of the seventh month.” The first month of the Jewish calendar is Nissan—which occurs in March/April. “Why then, is he Jewish “New Year” celebrated in the Spring?
Actually, Judaism has several new years—a concept with parallels in the American calendar. The American “new year” begins in January, but the “school year” starts in September, and many businesses have “fiscal years” that commence at various times of the year. In Judaism, the first day of Nissan is the new year for the purpose of designating calendar months and the reigns of kings, while the first day of Elul (on September 3rd, this year) is the new year for tithing animals for temple sacrifice. The new year for trees (Rosh Ha-Shanah La-Illanot) occurs on Tu’ B’Shvat (15th day of Shevat) and the first day of Tishrei (Rosh Ha-Shanah) is the new year for counting years, i.e. when the number of the year changes. On this day, this year, the Jewish year of 5784 changes to 5785. Sabbatical and Jubilee years also start in Tishrei.
The term, Rosh Ha-Shanah does not actually appear anywhere in the Torah. As noted above, the book of Numbers calls this festival, Yom Teru-ah, while Leviticus gives it a slightly different name, (Yom zichhron teru-ah, literally, day of commemorating with trumpet blasts.) In Leviticus 23:24, God tells Moses: “Speak to the Israelite people thus: In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe a complete rest, a sacred occasion with loud blasts.)
One of the most important observances of this holiday is the sounding of the shofar (ram’s horn) during the synagogue service. A total of one hundred notes are sounded. There are four different kinds of shofar notes: teki-ah, a three second sustained note; shevarim, three one second notes, rising in tone; teru-ah, a series of nine short staccato notes extending over a period of about three seconds; and teki-ah gedolah, literally big teki-ah, the final blast in a set, which last a minimum of ten seconds.
The Torah gives no specific reason for this practice. One rabbinic suggestion is that the shofar’s sound is a call to repentance. Later the rabbis decreed, for technical calender reasons that Rosh Ha-Shanah—both in Israel and in the Diaspora—must be celebrated for two days, on the first and second days of Tishrei. In years when the first day of Rosh Ha-Shanah falls on Shabbat, the shofar is blown only on the second day.
On Yom Ha-Zikaron, the Day of Remembrance, we strive to remember those who gave us life, who mentored us, who supported our dreams, who helped to make us who we are today. When this day of shofar-blasting (Yom Teru-ah) calls us to repentance, we are encouraged to be introspective, not only in assessing our past actions, but also in striving for the wisdom and insight to do better, and to be better, in the coming year.
The shofar pictured here is from the collection of Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El. It belonged to a synagogue in Odessa. During the 1917 Communist Revolution, the Communists destroyed houses of worship, but many synagogue artifacts were saved, including this shofar, which was placed in the custody of Essie Einstein’s father, z’l in 1932. The family kept the shofar safe and subsequently gave it to Essie, whose parents had died in a concentration camp as victims of Nazi persecution.
The evocative poem, “Autumn Is Near” and “The Memory of My Parents” by Yehuda Amichai (the treasured Israeli poet, 1924-2000) seems to reflect emotions that Esssie Einstein might have felt during Yom Ha-Zikaron /Yom Teru-Ah. Had she known this poem, it could have inspired her gift to our Museum.
Soon it will be autumn.
The time has come to remember my parents.
I remember them,
Like the simple toys of my childhood,
Turning in little circles,
Humming softly, raising a leg,
Waving an arm, moving their heads
From side to side slowly,
In the same rhythm,
The spring in their belly,
And the key in their back.
Then suddenly, they stopped moving
And remain, forever in their last position.
This is how I remember my parents
And that is how I remember their words.
As autumn and Rosh Ha-Shanah draw near, we take note of Mrs. Einstein’s shofar, donated to the Percelay Museum in memory of her parents. As she remembered them, so do we recall the words and actions of our ancestors. May the sound of the shofar arouse in us, for all seasons to come, not simply echoes of the past, but also reverberations that will inspire us with the desire and the strength to imbue our lives with meaning and joy.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
May 2024
Omer Counter. Louvaton Gallery. Israel. 2003
Count Our Blessings...
By the time you read this, we will be almost three weeks into the counting of the omer. From the second night of Pesach until Shavuot, we count the days that signify the time between the Exodus from Egypt and Revelation at Sinai. Sefirat ha-Omer, as it is called, reminds us of bringing a sheaf (omer) of newly harvested barley to the Temple as a pre-Pesach offering. During the omer period, each of the seven species - olives, pomegranates, figs, barley, wheat, grapes, dates - amidst the vagaries of weather and wind, have the potential to enter a significant growth period. Shavuot, at the end of sefirat ha-omer, celebrates God’s blessings upon the land and its harvests, and the success of that growth period. During the sefirah (the counting) of the omer (sheaf), the days are marked by reciting special psalms and marking off each day, on special omer charts, often artistically embellished. The omer period is considered a time of semi-mourning with several prohibitions in place: no cutting of hair or playing music, and no celebrating of weddings. However, on several days, Lag B’Omer, Rosh Hodesh and Yom Ha-Atzmaut, the restrictions are lifted. The semi-mourning period hearkens back to the days when the Israelites, because of the uncertainty of the harvest, so critical to their existence, were vulnerable... vulnerable, both physically and spiritually, as they prepared to receive the Torah at Sinai.
As we number the days, during sefirat ha-omer, let us take the opportunity to recall both the vulnerability and blessings in our lives. Amid the vagaries of wind and weather, we too have the potential to have a beautiful life.
The magnificent Omer Counter, pictured above, is in the collection of the Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of our own Temple Emanu-El. Created in Israel in 2003 by the Studio of Louvaton, it is made of sterling silver, painted parchment and maple wood. The top of the wooden box opens and reveals a scroll-like device which is manually turned daily. Each number is beautifully illuminated with different representations of the seven species, folk art images, and various psalms. In addition, the skillfully crafted matching wooden stand for the Omer Counter was created by Emanu-El member, Bob Pelcovits. The piece does not sit in the Museum or in a display case. Like so many of the items in the Museum’s collection, the Omer Counter is used, as the holiday or ritual demands. It is not an “artifact” but an actual “in use” ritual object, as are so many of the Museum’s collection. In addition, items in the museum are primary sources, used to teach students of all ages the history of the Jewish people. These objects, collected from locations throughout the world, and from time periods spanning centuries, live within the museum proper (in the foyer of the Alperin Meeting House) as well as in display cases, and on walls, scattered around the synagogue. They are valuable primary sources which enable the museum to be a viable educational arm of our synagogue.
This Omer Counter “resides” in the Fishbein Chapel. Our magnificent Omer Counter was generously donated to the Museum by the Gorman Family, in loving memory of Eva and Sam Gorman.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Passover 2024
From The Szyk Haggadah, 20th century
Why is this Haggadah different from all other Haggadahs?
Pesach is coming! Pesach is coming! How do I know? It's not just because it's Adar and when Adar comes (by the way, “Be Happy,”) we know that Pesach cannot be far behind. It's also because Bubbie’s and assorted area supermarkets are filled to the rafters with all sorts of Passover staples and delights. As we approach the festival of Pesach, feelings of anticipation… and anxiety... abound. How will thirty family members fit around the seder table? Where will thirteen houseguests (children, grandparents, nieces, nephews, sisters, brothers-in-law) sleep? How many creative Pesachdik vegetarian, vegan and protein-filled recipes can I conjure up? And how can our seder be meaningful to the traditionalist and entertainment to our newest seder attendee, the toddler? Over the years our family has spent a lifetime of seders with all varieties of haggadot while trying to fulfill the mitzvah of retelling the tale of imagining ourselves as slaves in Egypt. We started with a Passover Haggadah illustrated by Leonard Baskin, and compiled by the Central Conference of American Rabbis; and then we moved to the Rabbinical Assembly’s Feast of Freedom. We have also used Noam Zion’s, A Different Night. In addition to these, we peppered each seder with readings from some of the hundreds of versions of haggadot on the market today.
The idea was to make our seder meaningful, to ask the important questions, to hear some interesting reflections, to retell our family stories each year... and try to have our chicken soup and kneidlach before midnight! We used a variety of other haggadot for readings and contemplation. Different family members were given a second haggadah from which they interjected their own interpretations of whatever section of the seder we were reading. Our additional haggadot included: Let My People Go, illustrated by Mark Podwal, with a forward by Abba Eban, and introduction by Theodore Bikel; The Family Seder, A Traditional Seder for the Modern Home; Shalom of Safed Haggadah; Kibbutz Passover Haggadah; Large Print Haggadah (Jewish Heritage for the Blind;) My Very Own Haggadah, (for children); The Exodus Haggadah: From Tyranny To Freedom-A Celebration, (in co-operation with the National Conference on Soviet Jewry); A Night to Remember: The Haggadah of Contemporary Voices by Noam Zion (which our family currently uses as its main Haggadah); The Passover Haggadah: Legends and Customs; Haggadah: A Secular Celebration of Pesach; The Joyous Haggadah (for children); Sammy Spider’s First Haggadah (for children); The Agam Haggadah; Haggadah for the Liberated Lamb, (essentially for vegetarians); American Heritage Haggadah; The Archeological Passover Haggadah; The Bird’s Head Haggadah, pop-up version; The Land of Israel Haggadah; The Shalom Seders, compiled by The New Jewish Agenda; The Santa Cruz Haggadah; The Passover Haggadah, with comments by Elie Weisel and illustrated by Mark Podwal; Passover, prepared by "Jew Belong"; and finally, three family haggadot creatively compiled by friends: one by Rich Walter, one by Marjorie Ingall, and one by Michael Mollow, z”l”.
And so, each year our seder has been: a little different, a little more inspiring... and a little longer.
Some seders are small; some large. Some have children and adults participating. Some have homogeneity of ages. Some participants are sitting at their first Seder table. Some attendees are not Jewish; some are exploring, curious; some are members of interfaith families; and some are sentimental traditionalists, leading seders with the same Maxwell House Haggadah that they grew up with... and everyone and everything in between. We know that our creative juices need to run on overtime to make this year the best, the most meaningful seder of all. Many of my friends, as noted, were faced with a dilemma… how to make Pesach and the sedarim resonate with the diverse people seated at their tables. That tableau is part of the multi-faceted population that comprises “The American Jewish Family” today. These family sedarim endeavor to be true to the purpose of the traditional sedarim of yore, and also to honor our ancestors. Yet, we also must consider and reflect the reality of our family demography and the complex political and cultural era we inhabit – and the concurrent issues of society with which we all grapple. By finding the right Haggadah, by empowering the “children” in your group to create skits, to invent games, to write songs, poems, use haiku, and to pose their own “four questions” – (all this can be accomplished by preparing ahead,) we attempt to “speak to” our often diverse group of seder guests. These are strategies to successfully design the modern, evolving seder in a pragmatic, yet evocative way. The goal: to distill the essence of the seder, and at the same time, to retain its essential elements that can resonate with all ages and backgrounds. The goal: Discussion. Discussion. Discussion.
In addition to the variety of haggadot mentioned... and there are so many more, it is useful, and important to prepare ahead – to explore texts dealing with Pesach’s big ideas, to learn from and with leading scholars, in preparing how to consider and wrestle with the the complex issues of our past history. At the same time, as we note parallels in our contemporary fragmented world, we can use the haggadah as a template to explore current concerns with questions that have no easy answers: issues of war and peace, democracy or tyranny might be among the talking points in the seder. The Hadar Institute of New York, whose President/CEO is Providence native, Rabbi Elie Kaunfer, provides important essays in Hadar’s booklet, Internal Redemption. These essays by Hadar scholars can inspire us, as seder leaders and participants, to elevate the seder dialogue to another level. Also, The Hartman Institute, based in Israel, has just published a Haggadah Supplement for 5784, especially geared to the complex issues facing us in these difficult days. (It can be downloaded.) And of course, our own Temple Emanu-El, right in our backyard, offers classes, workshops and more, all led by its inspiring clergy and other professional staff, to help prepare you for Pesach, including leading and participating in a seder.
The Abraham and Natalie Percelay museum of Temple Emuanu-El is home to two copies of one of the most recognized haggadot in existence known as the “Szyk Haggadah,” The text is traditional but its illustrations are anything but. Arthur Szyk, born in Lodz, Poland in the late nineteenth century, was famous for his anti-Axis illustrations and caricatures during World War II. This book’s illustrations took the form of illuminated manuscripts and medieval miniatures. He dedicated his work to democracy and freedom and he said of his work; “Art is not my aim: it is my means,” and “I am but a Jew praying in art.” His works were praised as among the most beautiful books that man has ever produced. The Szyk Haggadah shown here, was a gift to the Percelay Museum in loving memory of Samuel Rosen by his family. Examine it closely in the museum and explore Arthur Szyk’s interpretations of the Passover story. If anyone has some interesting seder ideas to share, we'd love to know. If you have created your own family haggadah and you would be willing to loan it to the museum, we would gladly display it in our museum cases for a special Pesach exhibit.
Whatever haggadah you may choose, how long or short your seder might be, or however you choose to observe your rituals, remember that you are fortunate to be surrounded by family, loved ones and community. You are continuing the long and beautiful heritage of your ancestors, as you create new traditions for future generations. Dor l’Dor.
May we all have the מזל to celebrate Pesach again in the year to come --in good health, and in peace.
Hag Pesach sameach...and happy planning!
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
Purim 2024
Megillat Esther scroll from the Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El
More Than Eat, Drink, and Be Merry...
The festival of Purim is one of the most beloved Jewish holidays, in part because of the customs surrounding its observance: raucous, noisy behavior; dressing in costume; and drinking to excess....... and all this can happen within the confines of a synagogue!
Loosely described as the Jewish answer to Mardi Gras or Carnival, Purim comes at the same time of the year as those holidays. Other cultures, as well, have bacchanalian festivals at similar times: to welcome spring by releasing curbed energy after a long cold winter. However, the theological foundation of Purim varies radically from its Christian or pagan counterparts. The foundation of Purim is a bit unsupported.
Events that inspired the holiday are recounted in Megillat Esther, one of only two books of the Bible that never mentions God's name. (The other is “Song of Songs.”) The story of Esther, Mordechai, Ahashverus, and the villain, Haman, are well-known to all. It relates the deliverance of the Jews in the kingdom of Persia from the annihilation planned for them.
Yet, there is no confirmation of the events from any other source, so the book's historical accuracy has been questioned. That, coupled with the absence of God's name in the account, provoked great controversy among the rabbis, and it was included in the biblical canon only after much debate. Unlike the other scrolls read in the synagogue, (“Song of Songs,” “Ruth,” “Ecclesiastes,” and “ Lamentations,”) the “Book of Esther” must be read from a parchment scroll; and rules regarding the reading of this megillah are contained in the Talmudic tractate Megillah. In the Diaspora, Megillat Esther became popular for its message of the triumph of justice; and it encouraged reflection on the duties of Jews towards their community. A primary obligation of Purim, beyond the revelry, is to donate to the needy and send gifts of mishloah manot (known in Yiddish as sholoch manos), to friends. The Book of Esther has also inspired many commentaries and has been the subject of much Jewish folk art.
The scroll pictured here, printed on leather with hand-painted wooden rollers, is from the collection of the Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El. Artfully decorated, it was donated to the museum in memory of Dora Rosenthal and Joseph Rosenthal, a mother and brother of Rabbi and Mrs. Eli A. Bohnen, by friends. When fully opened, it measures 39” x 19” and is from Persia, circa 1900.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
December 2023
Contemporary wooden folk-art dreidel. Artist: L. Bibel
A Hannukah Quiz: What do the Red Sox,The Patriots and the Maccabees Have in Common?
How can I write about the winter festival of Hanukkah for the December Temple Emanu-El website on a balmy Fall day, when the Sox and the Patriots are hoping for some great victories? Good luck, All!
Sports and Hannukah? Well, it's actually not such a stretch. Are not the Israeli Olympics, known as the Maccabiah, named for the Maccabees, the heroes of the Hanukkah story?
Hanukkah, celebrated for eight days beginning on the 25th of Kislev, (this year beginning on the evening of December 7th,) commemorates the historic victory of the Syrians over the tyrant Antiochus and his army. Also called the "Festival of Lights,” Hanukkah celebrates the miracle of the tiny cruse of oil which lasted for eight days. Most importantly, Hanukkah, which means "dedication," notes the restoration of the Temple from paganism and Hellenism to Jewish life.
Today, in Israel, Hanukkah symbolizes national liberation and the triumph of the Jewish spirit. It is in this final interpretation that the essence of the Maccabiah games is defined. Ironically, the original Maccabees rejected the temptation of the Jews to participate in the Greek Olympics, as they were deemed too pagan and denigrated non-Greek speaking people. Yet when the modern Olympics were reinstated, "contemporary Maccabees," the modern Zionists, embraced Jewish sports as integral to their national revival. In this ideological spirit as well as in a pragmatic reality, the Israeli parallel to The Olympics, called the Maccabiah, was created.
The ancient Olympics, held in Olympia, Greece from 776 BCE - 395 CE, involved the worship of Zeus, Heracles and also Antiochus, who saw himself as an expression of the sun god. Jews who wanted to compete in this competition which was designated to turn the elite of various ethnic groups ruled by the Greek kings into soldiers and citizens devoted to mind and body, had to go through an extraordinary process to be able to compete.
The modern Olympics were revived by the King of Greece in 1896. The modern Maccabiah was encouraged by Israeli Joseph Yukutiel who persuaded the then mayor of Tel Aviv, Meyer Dizengoff, to build Israel's first sports stadium, and then convinced the Zionist Maccabee Sports Clubs from around the world to come to Eretz Yisrael to hold the first Jewish Olympics in 1932. Five hundred participants from twenty-three countries came in 1932; and then, 1700 participated in the Maccabiah in 1935, at a time when Jews were excluded from the Olympics, held in Nazi Germany in Berlin 1936.
To this day, the Maccabiah games are held, quadrennially in Israel. Jews from more than 70 countries throughout the world will participate. In past years, several Rhode Islanders have participated. In the summer of 2025, almost 1000 Jewish American athletes are expected to compete out of a total of 10,000 participants.
There are other games, less physically challenging that are associated with Hanukkah. The dreidel, or sivivon, is perhaps the most famous. Over the centuries, the rabbis have tried to find the connection between the dreidel and Hannukah. The standard explanation is that the letters: Nun, Gimel, Heh and Shin (Nes gadol hayah sham) stand for "A great miracle happened there." In Israel the dreidel's letters are Nun, Gimel, Heh and Peh, (Nes gadol hayah po) "A great Miracle happened here.” Other explanations used gammatria, an elaborate game of word play using letters and numbers. One example shows that the numerical equivalent of Nes gadol hayah sham = Messiah. A 19th century rabbi maintained that dreidel game was invented in order to fool the Greeks in case they, the Jews, were caught studying Torah, which had been outlawed. With the dreidel, they could insist they were sitting together playing a harmless, albeit "gambling" game.
In fact, all of these explanations were invented after the fact, for in England, in the 16th century there was a game, popular at Christmastime, called totum, which in Latin, means "all." Finally, this game was transported to Eastern Europe and Germany, and the Latin letters were transposed to Yiddish and German. The Eastern European dreidel game that we play today is based on the German version: N,G,H,S.... N = Nicht-nothing; G = gantz-all; H = halb-half; and S = stell ein-put in. And so, the dreidel game represents an irony of Jewish history.
In order to celebrate the holiday of Hannukah, which celebrates our victory over cultural assimilation, we play a dreidel game, which is a splendid example of cultural assimilation. In yet a similar and divergent twist, the Maccabiah games were created to enhance Jewish pride by providing opportunities for Jews to prove themselves as athletes in the world's arena...and to acculturate without assimilating. Two games of sport. Two aspects of endurance. Two ways of creating new traditions.
May this Hannukah remind us, once again, that the Maccabees of old are reborn in the modern-day citizens of Israel, who like their ancestors, symbolize national liberation and the triumph of the Jewish spirit.
Hag Hanukkah Sameah!
The Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El has several examples of contemporary dreidels. Pictured above is a wooden folk-art dreidel, hand-carved by L. Bibel. The Shin, standing for "sham" = “there,” indicates it was created outside of Israel.
Some material in this piece was culled from an article by Noam Zion and Barbara Spectre.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize. Send your donations to the synagogue, Attention: Museum
September 2023
“The Proud Rooster,” a lithograph by artist Chaim Gross,
was donated to the museum in memory of Natalie Percelay ( our museum’s founder)
and Zelda Gourse ( Natalie’s sister) by their cousins, The Melvin Zurier Family.
Storing, Restoring, Rejoicing, Renewing
It’s that time of year: We look back, as we look forward. The balmy days of summer are over. Another season, with its joys and challenges beckons. How to accomplish so much in so little time? What to dispose of? What to retain? How to take your grandmother’s broken old chair, sand the splinters, glue the legs, polish it and renew it for at least another year? How to find time to participate in just one minyan a week to assure that chapel services….or those on zoom…. can proceed with no lapses? It’s spring cleaning for the soul, except that it takes place in the fall….in the months of Elul and Tishrei.
Just as we take stock of our own lives during these days preceding the Yomin Nora’im, The Days of Awe, the more mundane task of “taking stock “ of “things “continues. Here at the Natalie and Abraham Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El, a treasure trove with finite space, we constantly assess our collection, as we decide if we have the capacity to add to our holdings. (Amazingly, usually we find room!) And to our delight, we acquired, several years ago, two works of art by the artist Chaim Gross. Donated to the museum in memory of Natalie Percelay, z’l (our museum’s founder) and Zelda Gourse, z’l (her sister) ---by The Melvin Zurier Family (their cousins)…these watercolor and pen and ink drawings exemplify both the whimsy and the depth that characterizes Gross’s oeuvre. Pictured above is The Proud Rooster. “The rooster seems to reign like a sheltering angel over the solemn proceedings. This is Gross’s remembrance of the white-winged bird who symbolically carries away the sins of each family on his feathered pinions, so that they can begin the New Year with a clean slate.”(Soltes, Abrams & Blecher). Through color, line and movement, the world of Chaim Gross’s childhood lives again.
Gross was born in Austrian Galicia in 1904. He spent many youthful hours whittling wood as he accompanied his father, Moses, a timber appraiser, on his rounds. His family’s devotion to Judaism informed his life and his artistic endeavors. Gross’s idyllic childhood was shattered by the outbreak of World War 1. In 1921, he emigrated to America, to New York’s Lower East Side, and he studied at the Educational Alliance, the Beaux-Arts Institute of Design, and The Arts Students’ League. His sculptures in bronze, wood, alabaster and many other materials are in private collections, museums and public spaces throughout the world. Many of his drawings and paintings began as studies for his sculptures, but then took on a life of their own. His sculpture, The Ten Commandments, was commissioned for the International Synagogue at Kennedy Airport; and he has won numerous prestigious awards. Chiam Gross died in 1991 in Provincetown, MA.
Raised as a devout Hasidic Jew, Gross expressed his faith by facing challenges with a festive, optimistic spirit. He believed that all people are sinful, that sin is part of the human condition, and it is what you do after you have sinned that counts.
A message that resounds with us during these Yamim Nora’im…….
שנה טובה ומתוקה לכולם
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
May 2023
A sterling bowl, from early 20th century Persia
Given to the museum in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Murray Bromberg
by their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Sam Gorman
The Fruits of your Labor
In Exodus 23:9, The Jews are commanded: "The choice first fruits of your soil shall you bring to the house of Adonai." This is to occur after the counting of the Omer. Shavuot, meaning Weeks, refers to the fact that the holiday marks the conclusion of seven weeks of the Omer period which begins after the start of Pesach. Shavuot is one of the three agricultural festivals, the others being Pesach and Sukkot. Interestingly, the lone mention of Shavuot in the Torah, refers only to the agricultural roots of the festival: Hag Ha-katzir, The Harvest Festival. In Rabbinic times, Shavuot became identified with the giving of the Torah on Mt. Sinai, based on the biblical verse: "On the third new moon after the Israelites had gone forth from the land of Egypt, on that very day, they entered the wilderness of Sinai." Thus, the Torah portion for that day includes the reading of the Ten Commandments. So, Hag Matan Torah, The Holiday of the Giving of the Torah is another name associated with Shavuot.
In Temple times, farmers would mark the bounty of their spring fruits and vegetables. And soon after, they would bring them to Jerusalem as an offering. Another name of the festival is Hag Ha-Bikurim: The Festival of the First Fruits. These offerings continued throughout Shavuot until Hanukkah, although it was especially welcomed before Sukkot.
In modern times, outside of Israel, there are few vestiges of this custom. It is on secular kibbutzim that this tradition has been revived. One of my most enduring memories of visits to Israel was at my friends’ kibbutz, Givat Hayim Ihud, on Shavuot. In the middle of a field, a stage was set up. Kibbutz members, young and old, marched across, carrying baskets and bowls, laden with first fruits of the season: oranges, garlic, flowers, grapes, eggplant ... and more. It was a lively and joyous procession. Then, a pause. Suddenly my friend, and many other young women, their newborns in arms, perambulated across the stage, with smiles as broad and as beaming as the incredible Israeli sunshine. Indeed, these babes were the most special first fruits of this kibbutz.
Other customs remain today. Decorating the synagogue with flowers and plants. I remember that on my Confirmation from Temple Emanu-El’s religious school, upon the completion of the 10th grade, in the late 1950’s, girls, garbed in white robes, wore floral wreaths in their hair, and carried bouquets of flowers. In rows of four, we marched in perfect formation, and with care, placed our flowers in front of the ark. The boys, in blue robes, as I recall, carried nothing. If any boys in my class remember differently, please advise! (And I am not sure that any of us, at the time, understood the significance/origin of that ritual!)
It is also traditional to eat dairy during Shavuot because the Bible (Song of Songs 4:11) compares the Torah to milk: Like honey and milk, the Torah lies under your tongue ... the Torah providing spiritual sustenance, just as the harvest provides physical nourishment; thus our practice of eating cheese-filled blintzes and cheesecake is enshrined into our Jewish dietary playbook!
Pictured above is an exquisite silver bowl, decorated with delightful expressions of fruits and flowers, from the Abraham and Natalie Museum of Temple Emanu-El. This sterling bowl, from early 20th century Persia, was given to the museum in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Murray Bromberg by their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Sam Gorman. Inscribed around the center of the bowl is the Hebrew blessing for Birkat Ha-Mazon, Grace after Meals. Just as Shavuot, Hag Ha-Bikurim, Holiday of the First Fruits, gives thanks to God for his blessings of the first fruits, so does this lovely fruit bowl signify thanks for all the blessings of God’s bounty.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
April 2023
Matzah Puncher, 19th century
A gift to the Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of
Temple Emanu-El by Mr. and Mrs. Fred Strasmich.
Matzah Madness: It’s That time of Year….Again
What is it about this holiday that causes grown men to groan, and grown women to hyperventilate? Is this not the hag where we recline, a’ la the Greek symposium, as we discuss the important issues of the day, like recalling our journey from slavery to freedom? Aye, there’s the rub. We are supposed to imagine ourselves as slaves in Egypt. So, to put us in that mindset, some sage elder came up with his idea: Chain yourself to your kitchen, clean and cook, cook and clean…with the rest of the family, the Greek chorus, standing idly by, reminding you that there is a method to this madness. When the actual Pesah holiday and Seder meal finally came to pass, we began to understand how the preparation: cooking and cleaning and cleaning and cooking is a minute simulation of the drudgery and “pain” felt by the Israelites. (I do not mean to trivialize the meaning of avadim hei-inu [“we were slaves.”]) But somehow, this home exercise sets the tone for this holiday. The exhaustion of the preparation soon gives way to the release and exhilaration of the ensuing eight days.
We all know that the iconic symbol of Passover is matzah, and we also know its origins. In their haste to escape from bondage in Egypt, the Israelites did not have time for their bread to leaven. Tradition mandates that we not only eat matzah, but that we also explain its significance. There is a paradox in the meaning of matzah: it is our freedom bread; yet it also the bread of affliction, lechem oni, made of water and flour, the meager fare of Jewish slaves in Egypt. Many interpretations surround this contradiction. Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, the late Lubavitcher Rabbi, suggests the basic theme of Pesah “enables us to undergo a personal exodus from Egypt by transcending our individual limits.” By eating the bread of affliction, lechem oni, we internalize, literally, the bread of the poor and hungry who are without arrogance. By contrast, he suggests, leavening becomes bloated as it rises, suggesting egotism and pride. Consequently, one might say, hametz is a physical embodiment of the inclination to evil. Matzah, as the bread of affliction, and the bread of freedom, also emphasizes the fine line between slavery and freedom. It implies that no one is free unless we are all free.
In modern times, matzah is usually machine made, in flat squares. In past centuries, when matzah was hand-made, it was customary to incise designs on the matzah, in place of the standard rows of perforations we see today. Pictured above, is a matzah puncher, used to incise the holes onto the matzah, in the era before machines fabricated the holes. The matzah puncher, pictured here is a 19th century replica of a 15th century model, and was a gift to the Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El by Mr. and Mrs. Fred Strasmich.
Some Jews prefer special shumurah (guarded) matzah, carefully supervised from field to oven — uncontaminated, baked no longer than eighteen minutes, and round. This matzah is similar to matzah of ancient times and represents spiritual purity. In ancient times, this type of matzah was the only bread allowed on the sacrificial altar.
So, as we begin our preparations for Pesah, let us be mindful that it is a privilege to be able to cook and clean, clean and cook, to celebrate this hag-ha-matzot, surrounded by family and friends. The slavery…and the liberation that our ancestors experienced so many generations ago, for us resonates anew….and before we know it, may we all have the privilege to experience, and to appreciate Matzah Madness once again.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
March 2023
Purim Groggers, 20th Century, Brass
In Memory of Morris Markel
Donated by the Salmanson Family
The Sound of Silence?
or…
The Sound and the Fury?
I used to wonder, when I was a child, why adults, in the middle of a conversation, would suddenly lower their voices, and sometimes, barely mouth certain words. When I was older, I realized that these words had to do with bad, sad or horrific things. Death, illness, shameful acts ….these are things about which our parents and grandparents could not easily speak. Were they afraid of the evil eye? Was it la-shon harah (gossip) to speak thusly? Finally, I began make sense of this enigmatic behavior. It actually came to me when I was in synagogue, one Purim, as we were reading from Megillat Esther, The Scroll of Esther. From the time I was very young, when I went to synagogue with my parents and grandparents, I was given a little multi-colored painted metal groggar, from the Polish word meaning, rattle; or ra’ashan, from the Hebrew word meaning noise…. to whirl around every time Haman’s name was read. This tradition of using noisemakers seemed to originate from Christian folk traditions in the in the Middle Ages when similar noisemakers (including small rocks and stones) were said to have the power to exorcize evil demons. The traditional wooden groggars, metal pots and pans to beat on, and metal containers filled with dried beans have been supplanted by small metal noisemakers, akin to those used on New Year’s Eve. Many of the wooden groggars were often decorated with illustrations and verses from Megillat Esther, or adorned with icons from the Purim story.
Purim, for me as a child, was a raucous and fun-filled holiday! But why was I allowed to make noise, stamp my feet and do things in synagogue that were forbidden to me all other times that I entered that special space? And again, as I grew older, I learned the answer. The tradition was: to drown out, to erase the name of the arch-villain of the Purim story, Haman.
מח שמו'Yimakh shemo.
May his name be erased.
Just as we are commanded in the Biblical injunction to blot out the name of Amalek, the sworn enemy of Judaism (and reputed ancestor of Haman,) whose treachery is denounced in the previous week’s Torah portion, Zachor, (Remember) so do we drown out, with ear-splitting noise, the villain of Purim in order not to hear that evil person’s name….or is it also not to be reminded of his perfidious acts?
So, what does this have to do with the elders of my youth, barely voicing certain words? On Purim, when we boisterously drown out the name of Haman, do we erase it from our consciousness? When I recall these elders, who silently mouthed certain words, I believe, that for them, the sounds of their silence had the same effect that the raucous drowning out of a name has for us. It was as if “sad,” “bad,” or evil” would cease to exist if it were not heard or uttered. But can…or should …. sad, bad, evil ever be removed from our, or from our ancestors’ consciousness? Can the cacophony of the groggers and foot stamping, rendering Haman’s duplicitous name inaudible, and with it the memory of his wickedness….could it, should it be erased from our memory?
Our tradition teaches us to remember. Zachor, the parasha preceeding Purim means “Remember.” Soon we will we read of the exodus from Egypt. The Haggadah is our annual retelling of our flight from slavery to freedom. We retell this story in every generation. As we recount the horror of the plagues, and the years of the Israelites’ slavery, we also remember that “now we are free.” We bemoan Haman’s treachery. But we also recall Queen Esther’s heroism. In our lifetime, Hitler is the abominable embodiment of Amalek and Haman. As we recall the six million, we also remember the partisans and so many others brave souls who sacrificed their lives to help eradicate the horror for which there are no words. We, as a vibrant and vocal community commemorate them, by saying their names aloud on Yom Ha-Shoah. WE will not/can not be silenced.
We are enjoined to: Never Forget. And how do we Never Forget? We Never Forget by making sounds: sometimes loud frenetic noise; sometimes long mournful sobs. And we act.
We act together as a community to commemorate and to celebrate. We celebrate with song and music. We commemorate by marching for a cause. We write letters. We lobby. We vote. We raise our voices and stamp our feet to announce that we will not be silent or silenced.
My forebears lived in a time where many of them thought silence could ease trauma. The duality of “sound and silence” is profound. We may blot out these names, as our tradition enjoins us to do, but we must also remember the story.…and that often means we must make noise doing it….so that Never Again becomes a reality. In the still small voice of a generation past, who could not utter sad or bad words or thoughts, for them, sounds of silence may have been protective and defensive. But in the clamor of the groggers we gyrate and rattle on Purim, the frenzied sounds are cathartic. For us, the magnitude of the horrors foisted upon the Jewish people through-out the millennia demand another response: One of Sound and Fury, a “primal scream”, thunderous sounds — of groggers, and stamping feet — that allow us, in the same moment to forget and to remember. Erase the evil Haman from our consciousness; and at the same time remember the heroism of Queen Esther who saved us, as did so many others like her though-out the ages. Dor l’dor.
-Ruth Page
Museum Director
The Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El has a wonderful display of contemporary and folk-art graggers. Come to see the collection. Many of these are in the round glass case in the meeting House foyer.
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
January & February 2023
A Taste of Tradition
In perusing many synagogue calendars for the months of January and February, and part of March, 2023 (parts of Tevet, Shevat and Adar, 5783 in the Jewish calendar) I noted that there was only one Jewish holiday listed: Tu B’shvat. Martin Luther King Day, and Lincoln’s and Washington’s birthdays, graced the secular calendar. No yontiff. No hagim in the Jewish calendar from Hanukkah in December until Tu B’shvat on February 6. However, one significant Jewish event does appear: Shabbat, a block of time that recurs weekly, and with its presence recalls past generations as we live out our contemporary lives. Our synagogue cookbook, A Taste of Tradition, describes it in this way: Shabbat, rolling in each week, is regarded by the rabbis as the pre-eminent festival; it overrides blowing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah and carrying the lulav on Sukkot. In the Shabbat Kiddush, we remember God’s creation of the world, from which he rested on the seventh day, and we recall the exodus from Egypt, from when we moved from slavery to nationhood. The Shabbat candles renew spiritual connections; the carefully set table and the festive foods repair frayed spirits.
I asked several people to free-associate the word Shabbat. Phrases like synagogue prayer, renewal, family, Kiddush, candles, cholent, gefilte fish, and Shabbat dinner were always mentioned. And not surprisingly challah was at the top of the list. Food has always been an integral part of the Shabbat ritual, as it is indeed with most Jewish holidays. The old saw rings true as some recount Jewish History thusly: “They tried to kill us. We won. Let’s eat.”
Everyone is aware that Challah is THE bread for Shabbat, particularly in Ashkenazi homes. Other communities have their own recipes for Shabbat loaves. The origin of this tradition of Challah is traced to the shewbread that God commanded the priests to place on the shewbread table in the Temple (Numbers 15:19-20 and Exodus 25:30 ) To commemorate the double portion of manna that God sent to the Israelites wandering in the desert, each Shabbat, we place two loaves of Challah on our Shabbat tables. The term Challah חלה is derived from the Hebrew word, used for “portion” in the Biblical commandment: “of the first of your dough shall you give unto the Lord a portion for a gift throughout your generations.”
The name Challah was given to bread in South Germany in the Middle Ages, when it was adopted by Jews for Shabbat. It was the traditional Sunday loaf, and various shapes and sizes, were in the local tradition of decorative breads. Today, many people bake their own Shabbat and Yom Tov challot. My family is the fortunate recipient of home-made challot. Over the years, my lovely daughter-in-law, Deb, often with her children and/or young nieces/nephews helping, creates two sumptuous braided loaves for Shabbat meals and round ones for Yom Tov dinners.
Our Temple Emanu-El cookbook, A Taste of Tradition, includes Wileen Rosner Snow’s delicious recipe for challah. She reflected: “For many years, my grandfather, and then my mother made this challah recipe. The aroma is divine and helps to welcome Shabbat.”
When making the challah, it is required to take a small piece of dough, usually the size of an olive, before shaping the loaves. Before baking, that small piece is tossed into a hot oven and the baker says the following prayer in memory of the offering in Temple days: Blessed are you, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who has sanctified us with Your commandments and has commanded us to separate the challah. This ritual is called, “taking challah.” Both men and women perform it, but it is one of three mitzvot along with lighting the Shabbat candles and ritual immersion in the mikvah that are especially for women.
There is a tradition in folklore surrounding the making and serving of challah. A simple white napkin or beautifully decorated cloth, representing the dew that collected on the manna in the morning, covers the breads. Poppy or sesame seeds sprinkled on the bread symbolize the manna that fell from heaven. Various sizes and shapes from braided in three, four or six strands looking like intertwined arms symbolize love three braids symbolize truth, peace and justice; round loaves, where there is no beginning and no end are baked for Rosh Hashanah to symbolize continuity, with raisins to add sweetness to the year-- and the list goes on with different representative shapes for various holidays.
Whether making or kneading a traditional challah by hand as in days of old, or are using the modern convenience of a bread machine, to create a whole wheat or vegan challah the result is the same. The distinctive aroma that permeates the home in which a challah is baked recalls the generations of Jews throughout the ages for whom challah has played an integral role. As Ahad Ha-am, one of the most important early Jewish writers of the last century wrote: “More than the Jewish people has preserved the Shabbat, Shabbat has preserved the Jewish people.” And challah, an icon of Shabbat, has played a singular role (no pun intended) in that process.
This exquisite silver repousse challah plate, pictured above, is from the collection of the Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El. Around the perimeter in Hebrew are the blessings over the challah and in the center are two braided loaves of color this magnificent and highly ornamental platter created in 20th century Hungary, was a gift to the museum in memory of Jack Mellion by his friends.
-Ruth Page
Museum Director
With thanks to Claudia Roden’s The Book of Jewish Food, and our own Temple Emanuel’s A Taste of Tradition for some information used in this article
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor on memorialize send your donations to the synagogue. Attention: Museum
December 2022
Miniature Oil Hanukkiah Ludwig Wolpert, Israeli goldsmith Silver&Glass 1974 6 ½’’ x 6½’’
Hebrew inscription: “To praise You is a delight.”
Donated In memory of Mollie and Abraham Bresnick, by Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Bresnick
Hanukkah is one of our most “celebrated” Jewish holidays. Whether this is because of its place in the Gregorian calendar or its symbolic significance in Jewish life is unclear.
Whatever the reason, on 25 Kislev, the first night of the eight-day festival of Hanukkah, (this year, Sunday evening, December 18 through the night of December 25,) Jewish families all over the world will light their hanukkiot during this Festival of Lights. In doing so, they will commemorate the miraculous defeat over 2000 years ago by the Maccabees over Antiochus and the Seleucids who had desecrated the holy Temple in Jerusalem. We celebrate the rededication of that Temple (Hanukkah means dedication) and recall the “miracle of the oil” as the Menorah in the Temple, after the Temple was cleansed and purified, was relit. In modernity, particularly in Israel, Hanukkah has become a symbol of national liberation. Another focus is on the value of environmental awareness and energy conservation in relation to “the miracle of the oil”. “The hanukkiah shown here, is an oil burning one. “Oil, as the original source of light in the Temple menorah, the Shabbat lamp, the ner tamid (eternal lamp) , and the Hanukkah menorah (the hanukkiah), symbolizes the divine spirit which dwells among the Jewish people.” (Frankel and Teutsch, The Encyclopedia of Jewish Symbols.) For this reason, it is also customary to eat foods fried in oil (latkes, sufganniyot.) It is also traditional to place one’s hanukkiah in a window, or outside one’s door. If you go to Israel today, you can see many hanuukiot placed in this way, with homes, particularly in Jerusalem’s Old City having outside niches for that purpose. Rashi, in a note to Shabbat 21b, said their purpose was "to publicize the miracle/to proclaim the miracle." The hanukkiah shown here is one of many which are in the Abraham and Natalie Percelay Museum of Temple Emanu-El. As well, other ritual objects are exhibited in display cases throughout the synagogue. Jewish artists though all ages and cultures, have been inspired by the concept of hiddur mitzvah, to “embellish/enhance the mitzvah,” to create these magnificent lights that delight. Of silver and glass, brass and pottery, and using oil or candles, this little treasure is but one of the inspiring and inspired hanukkiot in our collection.
--Ruth Page, Museum Director
Contributions to the museum are a special way to remember those you wish to honor or memorialize. Send your donations to the synagogue, Attn: Museum