Fairacres
This is the last place I visit, and I'm glad to be completing the walk here.
Emet, Cyril's guide dog, gives Mitzpah a warm welcome. Mitzpah goes to sleep, waking only for a couple of well-earned pre-Shabbat biscuits. When I mention the statue at Liverpool Street Station in commemoration of the Kindertransport, Thea tells Claire Mandel and me that she came here from Berlin with the Transport. She was just twelve and a half years old. 'I remember my father blessing us in the hallway the night before we left', she said. They never saw each other again.
I go down the long corridor to see David Jackson. He used to come to every Talmud class, self-made scholar with his wonderful sense of humour. He's laughing again today. 'This is my last hug of the walk', I say to him. He tells me how, during a time when he found it hard to read much in the Siddur he created his own spirituality. 'More abstract', he says, 'It has four key
words: Life, spirit, goodness and love.'
Friday 14 March 2008
At the UJIA
'Despite and because' explains Doug Krikler: despite all the terrifying politics of the Middle East and the appalling violence, and also precisely because of it, the UJIA and many organisations in Israel continue to be creative, continue to work for life and coexistence. The UJIA is focussing on benefiting all communities in the north. I learn that enrollment at Tel Hai College is up 40% because of this ideology. 'There are two narratives', explains James Libson, 'One which you read about in the papers, the other the optimism and spirit on the ground'.
I ask to here about the UJIA's projects and am fascinated to learn about the Green Thread, a threefold commitment to the environment, especially in the North of Israel, through exploring development opportunities in green businesses, through social actiobn and through education for the environment. David Janner-Klausner comes to the UJIA from working for the environment and we look forward together to when groups going to Israel for longer periods of time will travel by train and ship.
We are presented by the UJIA with a cheque for £5,000 for Noam to develop a project related to a theme emerging from my walk. Simon Davies and I look at each other as if we are both going to cry.
'Despite and because' explains Doug Krikler: despite all the terrifying politics of the Middle East and the appalling violence, and also precisely because of it, the UJIA and many organisations in Israel continue to be creative, continue to work for life and coexistence. The UJIA is focussing on benefiting all communities in the north. I learn that enrollment at Tel Hai College is up 40% because of this ideology. 'There are two narratives', explains James Libson, 'One which you read about in the papers, the other the optimism and spirit on the ground'.
I ask to here about the UJIA's projects and am fascinated to learn about the Green Thread, a threefold commitment to the environment, especially in the North of Israel, through exploring development opportunities in green businesses, through social actiobn and through education for the environment. David Janner-Klausner comes to the UJIA from working for the environment and we look forward together to when groups going to Israel for longer periods of time will travel by train and ship.
We are presented by the UJIA with a cheque for £5,000 for Noam to develop a project related to a theme emerging from my walk. Simon Davies and I look at each other as if we are both going to cry.
At The North London Hospice
I've always been moved by the spirit of the North London Hospice. So much has happened there in the lives of so many people lots of us have cared about deeply. It's a place of lovingkindness, humility, and outstanding skill. It brings us together, it reminds us not only of our shared mortality but of what makes life worthwhile, - love, beauty which has nourished us, those moments when God's spirit touches us.
We share a meditation in the Room of Quiet. I read from the Hallel Psalms:
'For you have saved my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from falling. I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.' I think for a moment that these are the most inappropriate of lines to say in a hospice, where people do die. But I explain why I think they in fact belong most deeply here: Places like this stop our spirit from succumbing utterly to the power of death; the people who work here sustain us when our feet do stumble, they lead us back to the land of the living with renewed faith in the value of life.
I've always been moved by the spirit of the North London Hospice. So much has happened there in the lives of so many people lots of us have cared about deeply. It's a place of lovingkindness, humility, and outstanding skill. It brings us together, it reminds us not only of our shared mortality but of what makes life worthwhile, - love, beauty which has nourished us, those moments when God's spirit touches us.
We share a meditation in the Room of Quiet. I read from the Hallel Psalms:
'For you have saved my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from falling. I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.' I think for a moment that these are the most inappropriate of lines to say in a hospice, where people do die. But I explain why I think they in fact belong most deeply here: Places like this stop our spirit from succumbing utterly to the power of death; the people who work here sustain us when our feet do stumble, they lead us back to the land of the living with renewed faith in the value of life.
Shacharit at Immanuel College
It’s lovely to meet Mossy at his school and to daven Shacharit with him. Having the family’s company for part of the walk has been one of the highlights. After prayers a gentleman spoke about local poverty and homelessness. The school makes sandwiches for the centre which his organisation runs. I’m struck and shocked by the fact that they care for a thousand people each year. The man says, “Don’t imagine the poor and the homeless are feckless types. Anyone can become poor. We’ve had barristers and company directors who are homeless.” He shows a picture of a homeless man sleeping in a public toilet and saying “People don’t notice me, they don’t want to. They’re afraid.” The gentleman talks about accommodation and a family who’ve lived in one room 3m x 3m for 23 years. “That’s squalor” he says. And it’s right next door. Something from this walk is going to go to his organisation.
It’s lovely to meet Mossy at his school and to daven Shacharit with him. Having the family’s company for part of the walk has been one of the highlights. After prayers a gentleman spoke about local poverty and homelessness. The school makes sandwiches for the centre which his organisation runs. I’m struck and shocked by the fact that they care for a thousand people each year. The man says, “Don’t imagine the poor and the homeless are feckless types. Anyone can become poor. We’ve had barristers and company directors who are homeless.” He shows a picture of a homeless man sleeping in a public toilet and saying “People don’t notice me, they don’t want to. They’re afraid.” The gentleman talks about accommodation and a family who’ve lived in one room 3m x 3m for 23 years. “That’s squalor” he says. And it’s right next door. Something from this walk is going to go to his organisation.
Mitzpah’s Thoughts
Will I ever get back to my house? I haven’t even been to shul for an entire week. I understand that my people have put in a new carpet while I’ve been away and I’m looking forward to replacing the old holes in exactly the same places as I used to chew them when I was small.
I don’t understand my people walk towards the cars. They are not afraid of the horrid sounds of rushing that they make and the screaming when they zoom past, but they don’t run for the rabbits and bark at the horses, and play with all those creatures who are their true brothers and sisters.
I hope I am appreciated. No dog in the annals of canine history has ever raised so much money for a shul before, so I modestly request that the new courtyard has a bowl of fresh water for visiting dogs, and that the offices include a comfortable bed for me.
Will I ever get back to my house? I haven’t even been to shul for an entire week. I understand that my people have put in a new carpet while I’ve been away and I’m looking forward to replacing the old holes in exactly the same places as I used to chew them when I was small.
I don’t understand my people walk towards the cars. They are not afraid of the horrid sounds of rushing that they make and the screaming when they zoom past, but they don’t run for the rabbits and bark at the horses, and play with all those creatures who are their true brothers and sisters.
I hope I am appreciated. No dog in the annals of canine history has ever raised so much money for a shul before, so I modestly request that the new courtyard has a bowl of fresh water for visiting dogs, and that the offices include a comfortable bed for me.
Hospitality
Wherever I’ve gone I’ve been graciously received. Would I have offered the same degree of kindness, hospitality and blister pads to a guest who walked to my door? I hope so.
Many medieval synagogues had a room attached for travelling guests, and to fail to include such people in a Sabbath or indeed a daily meal would constitute a blot on the reputation on the whole community. Hachnasat orchim, welcoming guests, includes everything from an open door to an open heart, with a boiling kettle, a full pot of soup and a listening ear. How much this mitzvah matters! All through the ages there have been Jews, and of course others, who considered it a disgrace to have a closed door.
Wherever I’ve gone I’ve been graciously received. Would I have offered the same degree of kindness, hospitality and blister pads to a guest who walked to my door? I hope so.
Many medieval synagogues had a room attached for travelling guests, and to fail to include such people in a Sabbath or indeed a daily meal would constitute a blot on the reputation on the whole community. Hachnasat orchim, welcoming guests, includes everything from an open door to an open heart, with a boiling kettle, a full pot of soup and a listening ear. How much this mitzvah matters! All through the ages there have been Jews, and of course others, who considered it a disgrace to have a closed door.
Thursday 13 March 2008
Elstree & Borehamwood Masorti’s Beginnings
It’s great to stay with our Shlicha Reli and her husband Yoel. They are extremely hospitable, and I appreciate learning a bit about their families.
The new Masorti congregation here has a monthly shiur and the theme appropriately enough is Beginnings. We take a number of passages from the Torah and stop to focus on the start of Moses’ journey.
We look at one of my favourite verses. Moses grew up and he went out to his brothers, and he felt for their burdens, and he saw an Egyptian man smite a Hebrew man of his brothers. We puzzle over Ibn Ezra’s comment that the first brothers are the Egyptians. So at the beginning of the verse Moses perceives himself as Egyptian. After all he’s adopted into the palace and who knows if anyone told him anything about the secret of his birth, but by the time he comes home that day his brothers have become the Hebrews. Michael Gluckman comments “so his journey that day was one of transformation. He finds his identity in discovering his values”. Maybe that’s what marks the true beginning of our journey: when we know who and what we care for.
It’s great to stay with our Shlicha Reli and her husband Yoel. They are extremely hospitable, and I appreciate learning a bit about their families.
The new Masorti congregation here has a monthly shiur and the theme appropriately enough is Beginnings. We take a number of passages from the Torah and stop to focus on the start of Moses’ journey.
We look at one of my favourite verses. Moses grew up and he went out to his brothers, and he felt for their burdens, and he saw an Egyptian man smite a Hebrew man of his brothers. We puzzle over Ibn Ezra’s comment that the first brothers are the Egyptians. So at the beginning of the verse Moses perceives himself as Egyptian. After all he’s adopted into the palace and who knows if anyone told him anything about the secret of his birth, but by the time he comes home that day his brothers have become the Hebrews. Michael Gluckman comments “so his journey that day was one of transformation. He finds his identity in discovering his values”. Maybe that’s what marks the true beginning of our journey: when we know who and what we care for.
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