Growing up in Nottingham, we would often take trips to nearby Lincoln to wonder the cobbled streets and venture down “Jews Street” to “Jews House” and learn about the Jewish community that existed there during medieval times and wander around the Cathedral hearing stories of the Blood Libel as we stood by Saint Hugh’s grave, the boy who had allegedly been killed by Jews to use his blood for Matzah. I was astonished to find out that there was no sign by the grave that explained the allegations to be false and antisemitic until Rabbi Andrew Goldstein’s campaign to add one in 2002.

Working with the NLJC community has connected me once again not just to a Medieval Jewish history but to a community who has managed to return and rebuild and begin to create its own history that will take it long into the future. I have enjoyed attending meetings with those who are collaborating on the exhibition that will be shown at the castle and to see artifacts and poetry that link Norwich to its Medieval Jewish past. I was contacted this week by someone who is creating a play about the Jewish Medieval History in Norwich. Chloe is looking for people to collaborate with and I thought, who better than the wonderful congregants at NLJC! Here is a little information about her and her project. Chloe is a local theatre maker and founder of theatre company Tombola who make work in the East, about the East. With fellow writer/ director Jane Prinsley Tombola are embarking on a new project which seeks to bring Norwich’s Jewish medieval story to the stage. We have been researching the idea for some time and have 3just been awarded a National Lottery Project Grant from Arts Council England to develop the work.

During one week in June and two weeks over July and August, we will be writing and workshopping a piece of theatre, entitled Where We Dwelt (title taken from one of Meir’s poems). This will culminate in a sharing The National Centre for Writing at Dragon Hall on August 6th and the Earlham Rd Synagogue on August 5th. We are working with local archaeologist Sophie Cabot and the Castle Museum’s curatorial team over the course of the research. In the future, we hope this will become a full-scale show produced by Chloe’s company, Tombola.

We’d love to include members of the community in our process and would like to extend an invitation to any member who would like to get involved. We want to hear more about Jewish life in Norwich today and have conversations about the regional Jewish story. Please email Chloe at enquiries@norwichljc.org.uk and your response will be forwarded to Chloe and she can arrange a time to speak via zoom or on the phone.

Rabbi Anna Posner

You may have heard me say many times that Judaism is a religion of time rather than place or objects. Our spirituality is time bound: shabbat, festivals, new moon, morning, afternoon and evening all marked by ritual, and objects or buildings help us on our way but are not holy in and of themselves. One can usually tell what festival or indeed what time of the day a service is based upon the clothes or ritual objects that are there. On a festival or shabbat evening we see candles that would not be there on a morning service. We only wear tallit in the morning or daylight hours. On Yom Kippur we might all be dressed in white.

It is not just the clothing or objects that indicate the time in Judaism, but the music too. Traditional nussach (liturgical melodies) is different for each occasion and at each time of day. The nussach is often based around a scale, and cantors would improvise the melodies for prayers around those scales. Each scale denotes a period of time. There is a different mode for the morning than the evening, for shabbat and for weekday and for each of the festivals. Someone in the know would be able to enter any synagogue in the world and know what time of day or festival it is based upon the melodies of the prayers. I must confess that the melody I and many other rabbis use for the Amidah on a Saturday morning is actually the weekday nussach.

In the Liberal siddur during the Amidah we say both ‘mashiv haruach u’morid hageshem’- making the wind blow and the rain fall, and ‘morid hatal’ – causing the dew to fall. However, in other denominations the Amidah follows tradition and separates the seasons, praying about wind and rain in the winter and dew in the summer. The festival of Passover marks the changing of the season and the shift in the liturgy. As I am sure you can imagine, such a momentous occasion is celebrated in song. Now that Pesach is over, we are officially in spring. Do not let those few flakes of snow we’ve had this week fool you! If you would like to listen to Cantor Tamara Wolfson and Cantor Jack Mendelson singing a stunning duet of the prayer Tal to mark the coming of spring, follow this link:

https://pr.huc.edu/email/2019/04/dfssm/April-19-DFSSM-Message.m4v

Rabbi Anna Posner

This Past Year in Pandemic

What a difference a year makes! The approaching AGM marks a year since NLJC met only on Zoom. As news of corona virus spread last year we knew something was coming, but I’m not sure any of us expected to be here one year later, with stricter governmental regulations than before. A year of online community and a new Rabbi you’ve never met in person! Yet, we’ve adapted. Thanks to Zoom we’ve found ourselves creating a meaningful, online community which sometimes even has its bonuses. We are able to be joined by Suffolk, Peterborough and BKY as well as members, friends and visitors from all over the world. Online community has even meant that some members and friends who had been unable to make it to the Old Meeting House for services have now been able to join regularly online. Yet, while some of my colleagues worry that people will get too comfortable with ‘shul from home’ and our synagogue communities will suffer for it, I am in no doubt that human interaction, being able to separate space, having those natural in-between moments, and being able to eat together, laugh together, sing together and be together are so missed that the comfort of a service from home could never replace the in-person experience of synagogue community life.

Like most other progressive synagogues in the UK, NLJC has had almost no in-person activity since March last year. The decision was made partly in response to governmental restrictions and once those were slightly eased, a decision was made based around both risk assessment and values. Currently the Government guidelines allow for religious communities to meet in person under very strict regulation. Currently those restrictions include;

• Singing or chanting only be done by the service leader who must be behind plexiglass to protect worshipers.

• No mixing or mingling between households

• Any communal prayerbooks used must be quarantined for 48 hours after use

• People must adhere to social distancing.

The guidance recommends that, ‘where possible, places of worship continue to stream worship or other events to avoid large gatherings and to continue to reach those individuals who are self-isolating or particularly vulnerable to COVID-19.’

With so many people feeling the effects of the pandemic restrictions, careful decisions had to be made about what was the safest response to take. For me the Jewish value of Pikuach Nefesh, sanctity of life — the teaching that saving a human life is more important than following the majority of the mitzvot — has been paramount in my thinking of how we as NLJC respond to this pandemic. Where the Government allowed for religious institutions to hold services, I asked myself, what is the safest thing to do? Just because we’re allowed does it mean we should? The restrictions limited numbers of worshipers, how do we choose amongst our community who is allowed to come and who is not? Did it feel responsible asking people to travel during a pandemic to have only a limited community experience? What would happen if, God forbid, the virus spread amongst NLJC members because of the choice to meet in person? Because of these questions and more NLJC has stayed online throughout the pandemic.

As we reach the year mark, more and more people are being vaccinated, the virus rates that sky rocketed at the end of the year are coming down and while there is still a long way to go, there certainly is light at the end of the tunnel. Until we can safely meet together again, we’ll continue to do the best we can, creating spiritual moments and replicating that community feeling through our screens. If anyone wants support in getting online please do get in touch. I look forward to the day we can meet in person again.

Rabbi Anna Posner

Last week we read Parashat Yitro which is most famous for the giving on the ten commandments and the moment that all the Israelites gather together at the bottom of mount Sinai as Moses ascends up the smoke and fire wrapped mountain. But, before we get to this moment, there is a lesser known interaction between Moses and his father in law, Yitro. Yitro tells Moses;

 לא־טוב֙ הַדָבָ֔ר אֲשֶ֥ר אַתָ֖ה עֹשֶֽה׃

“The thing you are doing is not right;

 נָבֹ֣ל תִבֹ֔ל גַם־אַתָ֕ה גַם־הָעָ֥ם הַזֶ֖ה אֲשֶ֣ר עִמְָ֑ כִֽי־כָבֵ֤ד מִמְָ֙ הַדָבָ֔ר לא־תוכַ֥ל עֲשֹ֖הו לְבַדֶָֽ׃

You will surely wear yourself out, and these people as well. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. (Exodus 18:17 – 18).

The words ‘it is not good’ are said just two times in Torah and both these are in regard to people trying to do it alone. First, when God sees Adam alone and says, ‘It is not good’ so creates Eve, and then again in this latest conversation between Moses and Yitro. Even in times of Torah it was recognised that people need community and companionship in order to exist and thrive.

Later as the Israelites stand together at the bottom of the mountain for the momentous occasion of the giving of the ten commandments, they stand in community and with support of each other and Moses. Not only is it said that all of Israel stood there at the bottom of the mountain, but we were all there too. Tradition tells us that every Jew throughout history and today were there receiving Torah, standing side by side.

The ongoing Corona virus restrictions, as well as the seasonal struggle that many face, have left many of us feeling more alone and the task is too heavy. As friends and members of NLJC we are lucky to have that community around us and whilst we cannot meet in person, we are all still here.

However big or small you may feel your need to be, be sure to reach out and to know that it is okay to share the load. This third lockdown is long, and many are finding it harder. This too shall pass and until it does, we have each other.

There is a wonderful NLJC care group and I can be contacted on a.posner@liberaljudaism.org.

Together we can make it through! Rabbi Anna Posner

One Book We Judge By Its Cover

“Tell all the skilled workers to whom I have given wisdom in such matters that they are to make garments for Aaron, for his consecration, so he may serve me as priest.” (Exodus 28:3)

In Exodus, we read forty verses that offer intricate details regarding the clothes that Aaron and his sons must wear to serve as priests.

And these clothes are not just for show. We find out that Aaron’s headdress will allow him to take away any sin from the Israelite people and that the breastplate over his heart holds the ‘mishpat Bnei Yisrael’ – the instrument that Rashi says decides for the Israelites what to do or what not to do.

The priests’ dress purposefully set them apart from the community. It was their job to give sacrifices and be the connection between the people and God.

But what of Moses – the community builder and teacher of Torah, who is there for all the Israelites’ celebrations and anxieties? What did he wear? We do not know. Nor do we know what the rest of the Israelite people wore. Perhaps, we can assume that Moses wore the same clothes as the community.

If Moses were to have worn the same garish clothing of the priests, he might not have been able to have had the ‘on the ground’ impact with the Israelites that he needed to.

In an age without the Temple, it is not priests but rabbis, cantors and lay leaders who lead our communities, and like Moses, they do not wear the priestly clothes detailed in these chapters of Exodus.

Instead, with the absence of the Temple and sacrifice, our Torah becomes the central connection to God and ritual practice. Therefore, it is the Torah that wears the clothes of the priest. It has been a long time since we’ve been able to be together, take the Torah from the ark and parade it around the community but thanks to technology, we got a glimpse of the text during our High Holy Day services.

Over these months of separation, we have also learned that it’s the words of the text and the community who live them and come together to bring them to life that gives us that connection to God, spirituality and ritual practice.

Rabbi Anna Posner