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December 19, 2003/Kislev 24 5764, Vol. 56, No. 13
Lighting the lights - and igniting the sparks
VICKI CABOT
Contributing Editor
Emanuel, Julianna, Elana and Arianne Storch prepare a festive Shabbat dinner.
Photo by Vicki Cabot
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What lights your fire?
It's Hanukkah, the festival of lights. What better time to reflect on what sparks our Jewish imagination?
Study, prayer, holidays and family celebrations can fire up those Jewish associations.
For some it may be the birth of a child, the bar mitzvah of a son, the marriage of a daughter. For others, it could be studying a sacred text, mastering a new Jewish ritual, singing a new Hebrew song. Or perhaps, it's cooking a special meal, helping an elderly neighbor, buying a tallis for a grandson - and spreading the glow of those holiday candles. No wonder Hanukkah is called the feast of dedication.
Debra B. Darwick in her engaging book, "This Jewish Life, Stories of Discovery, Connection, and Joy," (Eakin Press, $19.95, paperback) captures the spirit of Hanukkah. Each of the 52 stories describes another life experience of ordinary Jews who find extraordinary meaning in the details of Jewish life. Darwick retells each of the tales in first person, reinforcing the intimacy of the experiences and their emotional power.
"Jews love stories," she writes in the preface. "(and) ...," she wisely observes, "We don't forget our stories, but pull them along with us."
Following are four stories from local residents who tell of their own Jewish discoveries, connections and joys, stories that they love, stories that they pull along with them, and stories that may even inspire our own.
Raising a son
Simon Weinzweig has big shoes to fill.
And so do his parents.
Born a year and a half ago to attorneys David and Lauren Weinzweig, Simon is named for his paternal grandfather, Solomon, who passed away in 1996 at the age of 65.
It means a lot to David for Simon to carry his grandfather's name.
"It does not replace him," says David, "but it recognizes him."
And the vital role that a father plays in the life of his son.
"You have an obligation to someone who is totally dependent on you," says David. "I have to teach him."
And teaching Simon what it means to be Jewish is of great importance to both his parents.
David recalls Jewish day school, then Hebrew school, affiliation at various Valley congregations, holidays and weekly Shabbat dinners.
"We always had Shabbos dinner," says the young man, who grew up in Phoenix. His mother, Simon's grandmother Marion, is a child survivor of the Holocaust. She lost her own mother in the Shoah.
"Because of that, it was very important to maintain a strong Jewish household," he says.
David says his own identity was informed by travel to Israel. He celebrated his bar mitzvah in Jerusalem at the Western Wall, spent a summer there in high school and a year during college at Hebrew University. This past August the Weinzweigs, with baby in tow, spent two weeks traveling and visiting family in the Jewish state.
Israel, and the survival of the Jewish people, define his Judaism, says David.
"It's almost religious to me," he says of his fervor.
"It guides me and makes me proud to be Jewish," he says.
And he wants to pass that on to Simon. But David also says he feels a need to become more observant, making greater efforts to celebrate Shabbat and Jewish holidays now that he has a son.
"A child learns by doing," he says.
So Lauren Weinzweig has bought a new hanukkiah this year to delight their son on his second Hanukkah. And the family will gather round to kindle the lights each night.
"I want to make him more aware of Jewish things," says Lauren. "When David and I were childless we would try to light candles; now I feel that I have to make a real effort," she says.
She is inspired by fond memories of Jewish holidays spent in Ottawa with close family and friends when growing up.
"I so enjoyed those times," she says, and she wants to recreate them for Simon.
She and David, graduates of the Bureau of Jewish Education's Jewish Baby University, are committed to continuing their own Jewish education as they provide for their son's.
"I feel a sense of responsibility," says Lauren, who went to Jewish day school as a child and hopes to give Simon the same advantages. "I have to better educate myself so that I can ... be a good Jewish role model, a good Jewish mother," she says.
David reflects a similar desire.
Especially since his son carries his grandfather's name.
"My dad had his life cut short," says David, "but one thing that we could do is name a little boy after him."
And raise him to be like his grandfather.
Observing Shabbat
On Friday mornings Ruth, Julianna, Arianne and Emanuel Storch wake up to the smell of challah baking.
Their mom, Elana, has popped the braided loaves, redolent with yeast and eggs, into the oven while they are still asleep.
Later, when the children unpack their lunches, they will find sandwiches made on freshly baked rolls made from the same dough.
It's a Friday tradition.
One of many for a family that is shomer Shabbat, Sabbath observant, and finds ritual observance of the seventh day to be a defining characteristic of their family life.
"Shabbat is one of the most important things in my life," says 17-year-old Ruth, a junior at Jess Schwartz Jewish Community High School and eldest daughter of Elana and her husband Daniel. She relishes the peacefulness and the opportunity for a busy family to relax and spend time together.
The period from sundown Friday until sundown Saturday is one of shared meals, conversation, prayer and study. The Storches do not drive or use the phone or computer, watch television or listen to music.
"It is a time when everything stops," says the busy mother, "a time to be together and unwind."
She prepares a special Shabbat dinner every Friday night. Often the family invites others, especially those new to the community or new to Shabbat observance, to join them. Elana emphasizes that making a festive meal is not as time consuming as others may think.
She abides by her mother's wise advice, "Nobody will write on your tombstone that you made everything from scratch."
"Make it easy, no muss, no fuss," is her mantra.
Elana, along with Rabbi Elana Kanter, will share their secrets on short cuts for Shabbat at a March 9 workshop sponsored by the Jewish Federation of Greater Phoenix's Women's Department.
Saturday mornings the family goes to synagogue, then home for Shabbat lunch and an afternoon devoted to more conversation, study, reading and time together. "We talk about the parsha, Torah portion of the week, or something the rabbi said." Sometimes friends come to visit, sometimes they go for walks, play games.
"It's very low key," she says.
The time ends with havdalah.
"Then everyone is on their way and another week begins."
For Elana, who was raised in a shomer Shabbat home in New York, Sabbath observance is central to her Jewishness.
"It is really my time to sit and reflect and learn, without other distractions," she says simply.
It's a weekly renewal.
"I light the candles when everything else is done (to prepare for the Sabbath)," she says. "And I say a special women's prayer, praying for long life, health, and happiness for my children. "I pray that light should forever be in our homes and the glow of our lives will never dim."
Celebrating a bar mitzvah
When Rabbi Chaim Silver reached out and gently caressed his eldest son's cheek as he spoke to him on the bimah, there was not a dry eye in the house.
"It definitely was an emotional experience for me," he says of the Oct. 25 bar mitzvah of his eldest son, Yossi. "I saw the potential that he has and also the challenges that he will face."
For Silver, spiritual leader of Young Israel of Phoenix, who deals in igniting Jewish sparks daily with his congregants, the experience of seeing his firstborn come of age was overwhelming.
"I got a glimpse of the unbroken chain for 3,300 years," he says of having a son who has now accepted the obligations of following in his parents' Orthodox tradition.
"I felt the close of a connection."
The Silvers shared the occasion with family and friends, many traveling from around the world to be with them. Both sets of grandparents, as well as one great-grandfather and numerous aunts, uncles and cousins came.
"There were four generations of Silvers here," says the rabbi. "Four generations who are Torah observant, coming to celebrate a simcha that is not just a life passage, but a celebration of becoming obligated, of a person who now has responsibility and the opportunity to grow and fulfill a mission."
Silver's grandfather, who came from Israel for the occasion, had read the same Torah portion as his great-grandson at his own bar mitzvah 74 years ago (as had Yossi's maternal grandfather.)
"He was here to celebrate the bar mitzvah of the first of his great grandchildren. All those hopes and dreams that you have as a parent, here was the fruition in a great-grandchild."
Silver says that he is proud of his son and his accomplishment, noting however, that "in a large part my son is who he is due to his mother."
And while the bar mitzvah was a family milestone, it was intrinsically a communal event.
"Jews are not Jews by themselves," he explains. "We are part of a whole."
And part of that continuing chain.
"I'm inspired to be a better Jew, a better father, a better rabbi," he says of the experience.
And of that moment on the bimah?
"There is no greater joy than when a son looks up and says, 'Hey, that's my father.' There is no better role."
Doing for others
How many 30-year-olds have a synagogue presidency on their resumes?
At least one.
Meet Jeremy Marwil who came to Phoenix via Rockford, Ill., where he served as the president of Congregation Ohave Shalom.
For him, it was a natural.
"I feel I can make a difference," says the young engineer who has made community service a priority in his life. "I have the skills, I have the education." And the desire.
Marwil is currently executive vice president of Temple Beth Sholom of Chandler. He also serves on the board of the federation's Young Leadership Division and volunteers with Arizona Adventurers, a Jewish activity group.
Marwil hails from Dayton, Ohio, where his family belonged to a Conservative congregation. He went to day school and Jewish summer camp, traveled to Israel as a youngster, enjoyed family Friday night dinners and celebrated the major Jewish holidays. Being Jewish was part of who he was. But it was not who he was.
When Marwil moved to Rockford after college he was looking for ways to reconnect. He checked out the two congregations in the small community, and settled on the Conservative one. Then he proceeded to make his presence known.
"It was a small city, there wasn't a lot to do, and I liked being involved."
The congregation of some 40-50 families quickly embraced the young man.
"I was young, capable, educated and willing," he says.
He describes his initiation into Jewish synagogue life as "baptism by fire" but that experience "created the spark to get involved."
When he relocated to Phoenix four years later, he quickly sought out other opportunities to give of his time and talents.
"I shopped around to see what was here. I checked out Conservative and Orthodox shuls, the federation, the JCC," he says. "I wanted to see how they welcomed me, what happens when someone reaches out."
Ultimately, he says, he chose Temple Beth Sholom as the focus of his volunteer energies.
"It was a good fit, the congregation, the rabbi (Rabbi Bonnie Koppell) the congregants."
Marwil says that for him, Judaism is defined in a communal context, and more specifically in congregational affiliation.
"My take of Judaism is belonging to a synagogue," he says. "I think of (being Jewish) as what we can do to be a better community."
He spends countless hours overseeing the everyday business of the 200-family congregation.
He loves it.
He also teaches seventh grade in the temple's religious school.
"Judaism is about community, it's about looking outward to others and not just looking inward at yourself," he says.
Getting involved, he says, allows you to do that.
Contact the writer at vicki_cabot@jewishaz.com.
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