Greenberg's View
New housing units
New Housing Units
I’ve never understood why the world goes absolutely bonkers when Jews try to build homes in Jewish neighborhoods of Jerusalem. Take the latest brouhaha about the announcement by Israel’s Interior Ministry that it had approved a planning stage — the fourth out of seven required — for the eventual construction of 1,600 units in the Jerusalem neighborhood of Ramat Shlomo.
Why is it so expensive to live a Jewish life? Since Jewish continuity and vitality are such communal priorities, and since the great majority of Jewish students today
are not getting a Jewish education, why has the Jewish community not done more to help in this area? And what could it do to change that?
Marci Ziff had prayed for a lot of things in her life, but never to have a breakdown. Yet there she was, a few months ago, sitting on a curb with her three children, ages 17,
15 and 11, right after being evicted for a second time from an apartment in Irvine — and praying for a breakdown.
“America is different.” Time and time again, when you hear experts discuss the state of the Jews in the world, you hear the same thing: America is different.
This is a time of year that I dread, when I have to write about my three days at LimmudLA, a smorgasbord of everything Jewish. It’s like trying to squeeze 10 or 12 columns into one.
What is it about criticism of Israel that is so hard to take for so many Jews? That question was on my mind this week as I was reading about the brouhaha with the New Israel Fund (NIF). In case you missed it, the NIF has been accused of funding human rights groups in Israel that provided much of the ammunition against Israel in the Goldstone report.
If you can tell a lot about a society by what it likes to watch, then something quite interesting must be happening in Israel, where one of the top-rated television shows is called “Srugim.” The show is an Israeli twist on the American hit “Friends,” and it follows the daily dramas of a group of single Jews living in modern-day Israel.
Yonatan Yagodovsky, director of the international desk at Magen David Adom (MDA) in Israel, remembers exactly where he was when he first heard about the earthquake in Haiti. It was 6 a.m., and he was in the bathroom of his home in Jerusalem, shaving. He immediately called Ohad Shaked, the MDA’s specialist in earthquake preparedness, who rushed to the Situation Room in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where, by 8 a.m., a group of experts from the humanitarian group ZAKA, El Al airlines, the MDA, the Israel Defense Forces, the Foreign Ministry and the Health Ministry were meeting to plan Israel’s response to the disaster.
If I ever decide to make aliyah and move to Israel, I can blame it on Micah Goodman. On a chilly and wet Sunday night last week at The Mark — a reception hall on Pico Boulevard that used to house Mamash restaurant — Goodman spoke on “The Crash of Old Paradigms: Why the Left and the Right No Longer Exist in Israel.” Professor Goodman, who was hosted by the Israeli Consulate as part of their new speaker series for young professionals, is part of a new generation of young and bright Israelis who are seeking nothing less than a renewal of the Zionist idea.
If you want to depress an Orthodox parent raising Orthodox kids, just remind them about the dark side of secular teenage life, things like drugs, sex and vulgar music. It’s no wonder many Orthodox parents send their kids to non-coed high schools like YULA — it’s their way of offering some kind of protection from the unpredictable ills of modern life.
Albert Suissa loves coffee. In the 1930s, growing up in Casablanca, he would have his coffee with his buddies at the Café Pietine, where he would also play pool for money. Suissa (probably a distant relative — we think my great-grandmother was his father’s niece) was part of the cultural trifecta of being Jewish in Morocco in the middle of the 20th century: equal doses of Jewish, Arab and French influences.
“What’s wrong with Judaism?” “Why do so many Jews disconnect from their faith?” “Why is it so hard to get them to go to shul?” “If Judaism is now a choice, why do so few Jews choose it?”
Is there a PR idea that can reverse Israel’s deteriorating image? I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I can’t say it’s been too much fun. For one thing, being in PR mode doesn’t bring out the best in me. I get linear and think only of “winning the war” — not engaging in complex and nuanced conversation.
Rabbi Joel Landau is sitting on a gold mine, and he’s not sure how to promote it. This gold mine is something he believes can change the face of Israel — a way of building bridges between the ultra-Orthodox Charedi community and the secular community.
Of the many quirks of the Orthodox tradition, there are two that are especially quirky to the average onlooker. One of them is well known: having a mechitzah that separates men from women during prayer services.
It’s one thing to know what to do; it’s another thing to be able to do it. We know we are supposed to be grateful for all of life’s blessings. We know that when hardship or tragedy strikes, we’re supposed to keep our chins up and try to transform tragedy into action — turn negatives into positives, move forward no matter what, and so on.
It’s not that I get tired of listening to Jewish speakers. More often than not, they motivate and inspire me. Whether I agree with them or not, there’s a familiarity, a connection. I learn from my people and I embrace their diversity.
It’s not fun to hear bad news on Shabbat. The whole idea of Shabbat is to take a spiritual break from the rest of the week, to reconnect with the essential stuff of life and to do it all in a spirit of joy. The last thing we need is to have our spirits brought down by depressing reminders.
I don’t quite get the brouhaha that is going on in the Jewish world about J Street. Some Jews are convinced that this new organization poses a threat to Israel’s interests, while others are equally passionate about the need for an organization that will counter AIPAC and critique Israeli policy for the sake of peace.
A thousand Jews were gathered for the Passover seder. There were no tables or chairs or haggadot. The matzot were handmade. No one had gone shopping at the local markets, since they had grown all the food themselves. The plates were brand new; each family had broken their old ones in a wild ceremony and made new ones by hand, as they did every year.
I’ve always had a weird feeling about the whole notion of Holocaust studies. I mean, 6 million Jews were murdered — how much more do I need to know? I can read 100 books on the subject — analyzing the who, what, where, why and how of this unspeakable atrocity — and still, I don’t think anything I read will come close to equaling these five words: Six million Jews were murdered.
If you want to ruin a Shabbat meal in my neighborhood of Pico-Robertson these days, just say one word: Obama. Within minutes, one of two things is likely to happen. If everyone around the table is anti-Obama, you’ll get a grown-up version of a verbal piñata, with people taking turns bopping the man who is “selling America and Israel down the river.”
Over the past few days, several people who read my column last week (“Dayenu Moments”) have asked me what I think Israel should do to counteract its worsening image.
I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but it seems like there’s been an unusually high number of “dayenu moments” for the Jewish people over the past few months.
A tragic death from cancer in the Jewish community last month made me reflect on a flaw in President Obama’s health care reform plan.
One thing that’s often bothered me about Rosh Hashanah is that so much of it is focused on the self. The way I see it, we’re already pretty obsessed with ourselves — do we really need more of that?
Carie Delmar was vacillating between two words: stain and shame. She couldn’t decide whether the city’s upcoming spring celebration of renowned composer and anti-Semite Richard Wagner (called Ring Festival LA) represents a “stain” on the festival or, worse, a mark of “shame” on the city and the festival’s organizers.
If I wanted to start a minyan, I think the last thing I’d call it would be a “happy minyan.” Seriously, how can you live up to that ideal every week? How can you not get exhausted by the constant pressure to deliver “happy”?
Rhoda Weisman never figured she’d be a victim of the economic crisis that has rocked the Jewish world over the past year. After all, her specialty was identifying and nurturing the kind of leaders who would thrive in such crises; who would, in her words, “create new paradigms.”
There is no issue of greater concern to Israel supporters than the threat of a nuclear Iran that could destroy Israel “in a few minutes,” as Ambassador Michael Oren recently put it.
When I asked Michael Held what was “different” about Rivka Bracha Menkes, he had trouble answering. It wasn’t as severe as Down syndrome or autism or cerebral palsy, he said. It was more in the general category of “developmental disabilities,” or “special needs.”
After three years of living in the ’hood, and with a mixture of sadness and excitement, I’m moving to the ’wood — Beverlywood, a more residential and quieter section on the “Upper West Side” of Pico-Robertson.
Here in Pico-Robertson, I often come across people who dream of building things, like a new Jewish center, a new kosher restaurant, a new kind of shul and so on.
There are few places on earth that move Jews like the Western Wall in Jerusalem. After my visit this summer, I think I’ve discovered why this ancient structure has such a magical hold on us.
For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by Jews and I felt fear. Not too much, mind you, but just enough to give me the chills.
I was raised Orthodox, I’m a member of several Orthodox communities and I’ve hung out with Orthodox and ultra-Orthodox Jews most of my adult life. Still, I’ve always had this love affair the Conservative movement.
Can sarcasm, irony, surrealism, irreverence and Joycean wordplay with Talmudic references help bring us closer to Torah and to God? Can you turn the rabbinic tradition upside down and still honor it?
There are certain stories that are difficult for me to write about. I sit there on the phone, and I have no clue what to ask. I meet the person, and I small-talk nervously.
There was nothing Jewish on the streets of the neighborhood where I spent Shabbat last week. There were no kosher markets or pizza joints, no Jewish bookstores, no Jewish tailors, and certainly none of the throngs of Jews filling the streets that I’m used to seeing here in Pico-Robertson.
Now that you have brought your can-do spirit and sense of optimism to that most intractable of conflicts between Israelis and Palestinians, I thought I’d share a few words of caution.
This is the time of year, during the holiday of Shavuot, when Jews celebrate receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai. But for a small tribe of Jews in West Hollywood, Shavuot will also be a time to pray for a last-minute miracle that will save their beloved 55-year-old shul, Mishkan Israel, from disappearing.
Hillel Neuer is not your classic Jewish macher with a Florida tan who walks into a room and commands instant respect. He doesn’t speak with the savvy and calculated tone of the experienced operator whose main agenda is either fundraising or political survival.
Scott Krieger wasn’t always an Orthodox Jew. Before getting “turned on” to Torah observance in the early 1980s — after attending a summer program run by Dennis Prager at Brandeis-Bardin Institute — he was your basic casual Jew who would attend synagogue two or three times a year.
Lesley Wolman was having trouble breathing.
Over a 48-hour period last week, through a series of Jewish events, I discovered the limitations of tolerance.
At the official Oscar party March 7 for the Israeli foreign film nominee “Ajami,” the tension between art and politics threatened to overwhelm the night. And rather than celebrate a win for the third consecutive Israeli film to be nominated for an Oscar, private sighs of
SAT | MARCH 20
(MUSIC)
Erwin Schulhoff and Kurt Weill had their careers silenced under the Nazis. Tonight, art rises above injustice as violinist Daniel Hope and pianist Jeffrey Kahane perform select pieces by the composers in a Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra concert. Sat. 8