Welcoming Shabbat In Lockdown From Our Balconies

My neighbour Hagai called in the early afternoon. "We're doing the Welcoming Shabbat service from our balconies at 6.30. Can you spread the word?" Actually we have a building WhatsApp group so I sent the word (and asked for Hagai to be added to it).

You need 10 [men - grrrr] over the age of 13, for a full service and one of our neighbours is saying Kaddish (the mourners' prayer) after the loss of his father, so it was especially important for him to have a minyan (quorum of 10 men). 

At 18.30 we all went onto our balconies and those without balconies stood at their front windows. The sun was setting. Chuck from downstairs, who is saying Kaddish, stood out front and counted the men. We had 10 but we were still quite spread out so some of the men from Entrance A came and stood spaced out on the road between Entrances B and C. 

At the beginning it was a bit like the intro to The Brady Bunch when they're all in their own boxes looking up and down at each other. But as we they started to pray, it became more like a scene from a shtetl in 1800s Eastern Europe. I half expected to see the Fiddler on the Roof come dancing down the street.

Chuck led the afternoon service for weekdays. Then Hagai came down and led the Welcoming Shabbat service. Finally the new tenant from apartment 4, Saadia, went down to lead the evening service for Shabbat.

Along the way, others who were walking past or had heard the singing from nearby buildings joined us. Some went back to get their prayer books as all passers by lived within the 100 metre limit from their homes.  

It was very special. The last time all the residents met up without arguing over the building maintenance was when there was a fire in apartment 20 and we all ran out into the road, The time before that was during the last war when we all met up in our pyjamas in the bomb shelter. Nothing like a good crisis to bring people together. 

I took photos though you're not supposed to be using a camera on Shabbat. I didn't have the chutzpah to go down to the street and take a photo of everyone from below. (Which is why I could never be a journalist.) 

Hagai asked who wanted to meet at 08.30 tomorrow for the Morning Services. He counted to see if they would have enough men. "We are three, Saadia and his son, Mendy, Oz, Michael.... where's Michael? Michael!?"

"I'm here, yes I'll be there."

"Chuck, Ivan, Brigitte's husband. Where's Brigitte's Husband?"

"He didn't come out."
"He went to a minyan around the corner."

"I'll be there!" came a voice from below me.

"Ok, I think we'll have enough. See you all tomorrow morning, Shabbat Shalom!"

"Shabbat Shalom!"

"Shabbat Shalom!"

I shall sit on my balcony in my dressing gown, with a cup of coffee, reading my book, and generally soaking up the atmosphere. Now that's the perfect way to do synagogue if you ask me. 

And if we're still in lockdown next week it'll be 18.40 on the balconies to welcome next Shabbat. 

Shabbat Shalom xxx

Morning Meditation Without Orgasm

The view from the balcony

It's 9 am on Shabbat Morning. I got up at 8.30. I'm rested. All is quiet. DD's still asleep. We're not going anywhere today. It's Shabbat so there are no buses and everything is closed in Jerusalem. (We can take taxis, Yes Planet Cinema is open as well as a few restaurants, but I'm trying to create an atmosphere here.)

I made coffee and went to sit outside on the balcony. I read recently that people who meditate can rejuvenate parts of their brain to the brain function of a 25 year old. I can't remember where I read it now.

I assume it meant the brain function of yourself at 25 and not any random 25 year old, or the average intelligence of all the 25 years olds on the planet. That wouldn't be fair because I had to go through years of homework and writing essays to get my particular 25 year old brain.

Anyway, as I said, I tried to meditate but after ten seconds my eyes kept popping open. They say you have to practice and build up to about 40 minutes a day. 40 minutes a day! I wonder if you can play Home Design on your phone whilst meditating. If you think about it, the two activities are compatible. Meditating requires clearing your mind and playing Home Design is pretty mindless.

I had an experience with meditating when I was very young and years later I read something that shattered all my illusions about it. I was at Limmud (a Jewish learning and social experience for adults held in the English countryside, over the Christmas and New Year holidays.) One morning I attended a session of guided meditation.

We were guided by a young American rabbi who suggested we meditate on the first line of the Shema. This is the prayer that we're supposed to say every morning and evening and if we think we're about to die. It starts (although I was saying thinking it in Hebrew): Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.

Every time I got to the the word 'Elohaynu' (our God) I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. It was like being hugged. I kept saying that word over an over and letting the feeling wash over me. In the room I heard the rabbi telling us to gently finish and open our eyes. I didn't want to stop. But obviously I did, after a couple more 'Elohaynus'.

I opened my eyes and the rabbi was smiling at me. "You had an experience, " he said. I nodded. I was beaming and every time I thought about it during the day as I went to lectures and meals, I had to wipe the smile off my face or look like an idiot. I also wondered if I'd had an actual encounter with God or if you could get the same feeling meditating with "OM".

That had been the last day of guided meditation. I tried doing it myself but I didn't get the same effect. For years, I'd try meditating every so often but I never ever even got close to the experience I'd had that first time. I remember the name of that rabbi and I occasionally thought of contacting him for advice. But I didn't and eventually I gave up meditation.

Fast forward about 30 years and I saw an article about the connection between meditation and orgasms. Turns out, many women experience a kind of orgasm the first time, and only the first time, they meditate. Well that explains everything. So moving OM, I'm not expecting the orgasm. I'm just going for my 25 year old brain. I'll try again next week.

Friday Night Is Games Night

Friday night has become games night in our house. We are not strictly orthodox about keeping Shabbat but we do celebrate by lighting candles and eating a festive meal; and we don't do ordinary things like work, laundry or cleaning.

You can see from the photo that tonight's games were Mastermind, TAKI (like Uno) and Rat-a-tat Cat!

Other options are Mancala, Kalooki, Backgammon (Shesh Besh), Rummikub, Frustration (though we are growing out of that one), Set, Othello (Reversi), and Triplica (I hate this card game but DD likes it).

We take our games night seriously. Whilst we don't have a green baize games table, we do have paper and a pen for keeping score and of course drinks and nibbles.

We need some good board games like Monopoly and other classics but we have a dilemma. If I buy them in English she can't play them with her Israeli friends. And I don't want to buy them in Hebrew. I think her friends are just going to have to be good at English if they want to play at our house.

As DD was looking for a game this evening she noticed that we also have some large (1500 pieces) puzzles in the cupboard. "When are we going to one of these big puzzles together?"
"In the winter on a rainy Shabbat when we don't want to go out all day," I replied. We are looking forward to it already.

What are your family's favourite games?

A Heavy Hearted Nation #Bringbackourboys

Two are mine, two are DD's, and three are for Gilad, Eyal, and Naftali
#Bringbackourboys

There used to be a joke in Israel that if two Israelis meet and they haven't found some connection between them within five minutes then one of them is a spy. We are a country of 8 million people, over 6 million of them Jewish, living on land the size of Wales. That's a hell of a big family.

Nine days ago three of our sons were kidnapped. The last time this happened it took five years to get Gilad Shallit back. The time before Nachshon Wachsman didn't make it. Every night there are prayer vigils reciting psalms around the country, some of them attended by thousands of people. The extended family of Jews around the world, another 7 million or so, are also praying, campaigning, doing whatever it takes to keep this in the international media.

There is a concept in Judaism known as segula. It means a charm and it is usually a bit of superstitious magic masquerading as religion. Examples are wearing red ribbon to ward off evil, eating from the challah bread broken by the bride and groom to help you find your betrothed, praying at a dead Rabbi's grave, reciting psalms for a change of fortune, and dabbing the blessed wine marking the end of Shabbat, behind your ears for good luck in the coming week.

So some people are calling for all Jewish women to light three extra Shabbat candles tonight as segula to bring back our boys. I'm not into segula as a practical solution for anything. I don't recite psalms or pray in any formal manner. However, tonight I will be lighting three extra candles in solidarity with my extended Jewish family throughout the world and mother-to-mother. I will be thinking of the three mothers going into a second Shabbat not knowing where their sons are and of course their three sons whom I hope are at least not suffering.

Listography: 5 Simple Pleasures

I made a the silly mistake of reading some other Listographies first. Of course I now want to include ones that I read because they're spot on. You can read the others via Kate Takes 5. Now to try to be original...

1. Peaceful coffee/wine on the balcony with a view. Last weekend we went to Eilat and despite a day on the beach, feeding the dolphins, playing in and by the pool, eating far too much, and having fun with family, my best bit was 20 minutes alone on the balcony of a hotel room with a great view and a cup of coffee. It could have been wine but it was 9am so coffee was preferable. I can also do this at home where I have a perfectly good balcony of my own, plenty of coffee and wine and a great panoramic view of Jerusalem on the surrounding hills.

2. In bed with a good book. I've just finished Peaches for Monsieur le Cure, the third in the Chocolat trilogy by Joanne Harris. I may have been lying in my bed in Jerusalem but actually I was being Vianne Rocher putting the village of Lansquenet to rights. It's a hard act to follow, I may just have to read the Readers' Digest tonight.

3. And while I'm reading there's a little 5yo face on the pillow next to me, quietly snoring and probably dreaming of swimming with her cousins and eating ice-cream.

4. Tidying up, declutterng and organising. Yes I know that might be someone else's idea of hell but I love it. Even folding laundry has that element of making order out of chaos. I obviously missed my calling in life  - I should have been God but the job was filled by the time I came into this world.

5. This one has been done but I can't leave it out. Friday Evening. The house is clean, the dinner and Saturday's lunch are made, either in the fridge or bubbling away on the hotplate (unless we're invited out in which case it's all made at someone else's house). No work to do, or at least if there is we ignore it for the duration (25 hours).

Shabbat Shalom.

Vegetarian Shabbat Lunch

This week was one of those weeks - exams to grade, over 100 late papers submitted by students desperate to get in before the final final date and all needing to be graded by the final final date of course, and Shabbat Lunch.

About Shabbat Lunch. Shabbat (Sabbath) is Saturday, when people do most of their socializing. Apart from being the one day of proper weekend, there are loads of restrictions on what you can do (no shopping, nothing involving travel by car or payment in fact, no computer or tv at home). This is all optional obviously but it does reinforce the tradition of two festive meals, one on Friday night and one for lunch the next day. (Some people also fit in a little drink-spotty [called Kiddush] in the morning and tea in the evening but these are the two biggies.)

When I was single, along with my other single friends, I used to prefer entertaining or going out on Friday night and having a more relaxed day on Saturday. Now that I have a 3 1/2yo the emphasis has shifted to daytime activities and Friday night has become a very low key affair with just the two of us. It doesn't matter which you choose, I love entertaining. I love the cooking, the presenting, the eating, the company. I even don't mind the clearing up afterwards. What I've found it very hard to get my head around for almost three years, is cleaning the flat sufficiently to have guests over. WAH means there's always a conflict of interests and, as I read on fb, doing housework with a toddler in the house is like trying to brush your teeth while eating chocolate cake.

Thinking all the grading, etc... would be over this week, I invited two of DD's friends from nursery with their families to join us for lunch. So I had to clean on top of everything else. I feel great that it's done. DD was so excited and happy to have her friends over. I am happy to be back in the reciprocating loop after too long going to other people and never returning the favour.

However, sommat had to give and the blog was in danger of yet another week of going from Silent Sunday to Silent Sunday and nothing in between. So, inspired by my bloggy friend Esther at Frugal and Kosher, I'm giving you my Vegetarian Shabbat Lunch Menu.

First course:

Challah (plaited bread loaves, bought)

Egg mayonaise salad

Homemade humus

Stuffed vine leaves (bought)

Green salad with avocado and salty cheese.

Israeli Salad (tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers)

Pickled cucumbers (bought)

Main course:

Vegetable Kugel (like potato kugel but with grated courgette, cabbage and carrots also added. And I put in some sour cream as well).

Cheese pancakes (with ketchup for the children)

Rice cooked with sweet corn (and red lentils but they diappear so no one knows).

Roasted vegetables in a light soy sauce to serve on the rice. (Aubergine, courgette, mushrooms, carrots, onion and garlic. I had some sweet potato but I forgot to put it in.)

Dessert:

Melon and grapes

Some fancy chocolate biscuits (bought)

Ice-cream cones (for the children but we all had).

As you can see, I'm not much of a dessert person but as there was way too much food, we were full by then anyway. And the fridge and freezer are stocked for the forseeable future.

Some clean and some still waiting

One happy fridge

Blessing My Daughter And Bletchley Park, Part 1

There is a connection I promise. First I have to explain about the custom of blessing the children on Friday night at the beginning of the Sabbath (Shabbat). The parent places their hands on each child's head and says the official blessing, often following it up with a personal message of their own.

So, having become a parent with a child old enough to enjoy the whole Friday night thing (candles, songs, blessings, grape-juice, breaking the bread, dinner, grace after, etc...) I decided to look up the official blessings (we never did it at home for some reason). The blessing for boys is actually very nice. You ask God to make your son like Ephraim and Menashe. In the Bible, these two sons of Joseph were blessed by their gandfather, Jacob, before he died and before he blessed his own sons. The reason they were favoured in this way was that they are the first set of brothers mentioned where there is no sibling rivalry. (Think about it - Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau). Very nice.

Then we come to the blessing for the girls. May God make you like Sarah, Rebekah, Leah and Rachel. The explanations of why, apart from being the founding mothers of Judaism (by dint of being married to the patriarchs) are less than satisfactory and not what I would necessarily wish for my daughter. One (orthodox) website puts it like this:

 As matriarchs of the Jewish people Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah each posses qualities that make them worthy role models. According to Jewish tradition they were strong women who kept faith with God during tough times. Between the lot of them, they endured marital troubles, infertility, abduction, envy from other women and the task of raising difficult children. But whatever hardships came their way these women put God and family first, eventually succeeding in building the Jewish people.

If, God forbid, my daughter should have to endure any of the "tough times" mentioned above, I should indeed like her to cope admirably. However, it's not the blessing I choose to give her when I could just as easily ask God to bless her with a much easier life. Another (orthodox) website puts it like this:

Each one lived in recognition that the ultimate in fulfillment is enabling others to realize their potentials as individuals and as members of the Jewish people. The Torah is filled with accounts of these women, recording their insight, their giving nature, and their sensitivity, leadership, and special ability to inspire others. Beyond this, all of the matriarchs were great, righteous women, who hailed from the homes of wicked people ― what we call today " a bad environment."

Seriously? You should grow up to enable others? And what are "wicked people" and "a bad environment"? Could it possibly be people who have different beliefs to one's own? No, no, no, not in my house!

So we'll be sticking with the blessing I used to say to DD when I was pregnant. After lighting the Shabbat candles I would gently rub my bump and say, "God bless you and make you a good big girl."

Bletchley Park

I got this from my friend who, I noticed, after blessing her own daughter, would whisper something extra in her ear. When I asked what she said, she told me these words and said they were what her own father had said to her every week when she was a child. I liked it so I adopted it myself. Also because my friend is a single mother of a daughter and I look to her as a shining example of how to do it right.

When DD was born I told my friend that I'd adopted her blessing for DD. "Remind me of her birthday?" she asked. I gave the date and my friend said, "Ooh, I've got shivers up my spine. That was my late father's birthday."

There is a connection to Bletchley Park but this post is long enough already. The story is continued in Part 2.