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Sicily’s Jews have their first rabbi in 500 years. Italy’s Jewish establishment won’t accept them.
CATANIA, Italy (JTA) — Rabbi Gilberto Ventura believes his synagogue has the most beautiful view in the world. Located in the tower of a century-old castle on the slopes of Mt. Etna in the eastern Sicilian city of Catania, the synagogue is wedged between a snow-capped volcano and the sun-kissed Mediterranean sea.
The 49-year-old Brazil-born rabbi also thinks his congregation is one of the most unique in the world. It’s made up mainly of Bnei Anusim — descendants of Jews forced to hide their religious practice and convert to Catholicism after the Spanish Inquisition of 1492. Before that infamous decree, Sicily was home to tens of thousands of Jews.
The synagogue, which was first inaugurated last fall, is the result of decades of grassroots efforts by those descendants in Catania to find each other and forge a sense of community that had been lacking for centuries.
Hiring a full-time rabbi was the last piece of the puzzle, and Ventura, who has a long history of working with communities of Bnei Anusim in Brazil, was a natural candidate. He arrived in Catania in January.
“I really believe that the future Judaism in the world, especially in some places like Italy and, of course, Brazil, is connected to the Bnei Anusim, and the need to embrace the Bnei Anusim,” Ventura said.
But in an ongoing point of frustration, the formal organization representing Italian Jewry, the Union of Italian Jewish Communities (UCEI), does not recognize them as Jews.
“In the case of Catania, this strange Jewish community hasn’t passed all the steps the law requires,” said Giulio Di Segni, the vice president of UCEI.
He was referring to the fact that the community did not seek UCEI’s permission before establishing themselves under the name “Jewish community of Catania.” Per Italian law, UCEI has a monopoly on acknowledging and establishing Jewish communal life in Italy — including authority over who can use the term “Jewish community of” in formal ways.
“UCEI can’t accept this because it is too easy,” he added. “We are not against their synagogue or their way of prayer, but they cannot use the name ‘Jewish community of Catania.’”
The rooftop of the Castello Leucatia, where the community meets, has a large menorah and a view of the Mediterranean. (David I. Klein)
Catania’s Jewish community members told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency a variety of stories about their Jewish backgrounds. Some came from families that always outwardly identified as Jewish. Others identified the source of family traditions practiced by parents and grandparents who — as descendants of Jews who faced persecution for practicing Judaism — still felt the need to hide aspects of their Jewishness from the public eye.
In the midst of questions about their ancestry, the majority of the Jewish community members have undergone Orthodox conversions. But that hasn’t led to their acceptance.
Benito Triolo, president of the Catania Jewish community, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that he first came to Judaism at the age of 40, thanks to the insight of a Jewish friend in Palermo, Sicily’s capital and most populous city. Working together, they established a Charter of Sicilian Jewry, which aimed to identify and highlight the Jewish heritage of neighborhoods across the island.
While working on that project, Triolo came closer to his own Jewish heritage, and after years of study, he completed an Orthodox conversion through a rabbi in Miami 25 years ago.
Another community member, who was born Alessandro Scuderi but today goes by the name of Yoram Nathan, first felt drawn to Judaism as a child watching news of the Six-Day War in 1967. At first, he was laughed at by other members of his family — except his grandmother, who happened to have a tradition of lighting eight candles in early winter and baking flat unleavened bread around Easter time.
Decades of study later, Scuderi also completed a formal conversion to Judaism before an Orthodox rabbinic court, or beit din.
Others had more straightforward backgrounds.
“I was born in a Jewish family,” said David Scibilia, the community’s secretary. “Frankly speaking, we were not hiding or deep in the shadows in this part of the country.”
Scibilia said that his father explained to him that he was a Jew as early as the age of four. Within their own home, they observed holidays and kept Shabbat — no easy task since Italian schools at the time of his childhood in the 1970s had class on Saturdays. He did not eat meat until he was an adult and was able to acquire kosher meat.
He said that his family had maintained their Jewish identity since the days of the Inquisition and married amongst a small group of other similar families.
“I was a Jew, but not part of any community,” Scibilia said. “Just my family was my community.”
An aerial view of the city of Catania shows the Mt. Etna volcano in the background, Jan. 28, 28, 2022. (Fabrizio Villa/Getty Images)
Scibilia explained that once he had a child of his own, he realized he did not want her to have the same lonely Jewish experience. But when he reached out to UCEI, he said he found the proverbial door to organized Jewish life shut. Earning membership in Jewish community organizations across Western Europe involves a strict vetting process, and many groups require applicants to prove their mothers’ Jewishness according to varying standards.
Scibilia’s experience was echoed by Jews outside of the community in Catania and across Italy’s south who talked to JTA — a feeling of neglect or rejection by UCEI for those who fall outside of the norms of Italian Judaism.
UCEI currently recognizes 19 Jewish communities across northern Italy and just one in the south, in Naples, which has jurisdiction over the rest of the southern half of the peninsula and the island of Sicily. The organization recognizes around 28,000 Jews in total across the country.
Scibilia noted that despite his Jewish upbringing, he has multiple certificates of conversion from Orthodox rabbis. The first came from a beit din of American rabbis from who traveled to Syracuse, Sicily, to assess Scibilia and others like him in Sicily. His second comes from the conversion court of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate, which is known for its exacting Orthodox standards.
Both were rejected by Italy’s own Orthodox rabbinate, and he was forced to stand before another rabbinic court in Italy.
“I have at this moment — don’t start to laugh — three documents that prove that I am a Jew, two Ketubah [marriage contracts] for my wedding, and so on, again and again and again,” Scibilia said.
Others’ experiences in the region have been even more fraught, he said.
“The problem in Italy, that if you try to study with any rabbi here, you can study for 20 years, maybe you can die even before you reach the end of the tunnel,” he said. “From my point of view, they are playing with the spirituality of these people.”
In a statement last year, UCEI called the the Catanians “a phantom ‘Jewish community’” and accused them of “misleading the local institutions and deluding believers and sympathizers into adhering to traditional religious rites, never actually recognized or authorized by the Italian rabbinical authority.”
“Between UCEI and the Italian republic is an agreement signed in ‘87,” Di Segni said. “This law means everything about Jewish communities in Italy is through the Union Jewish community in Italy (UCEI).”
Noemi Di Segni, shown in Rome in 2017, is president of the Union of Jewish Communities in Italy. (Stefano Montesi/Corbis via Getty Images)
Triolo said he isn’t too concerned about UCEI’s recognition.
“Ours is a process of refounding old communities that existed as early as 200 and up to 1492,” Triolo said. “Our recognition is already in our history. At that time the UCEI did not exist. We were there and we simply returned!”
No one knows when Jews first arrived in Sicily, but the Talmud tells a story that claims Rabbi Akiva, a well-known early rabbinic sage, visited the island in the early second century and told of a small Jewish community in Syracuse. Some historians believe the Roman writer Caecilius Calactinus — who was born in a town near Messina in the first century B.C.E — to have been of Jewish origin.
All agree that over the course of history, Sicily’s Jews watched as the island was traded between Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Arabs, Normans and half a dozen other empires. The narrative has also long been that Jewish life there ended five centuries ago, under Spanish rule.
The Spanish empire’s Jews suffered the same fate as Jews from the Iberian peninsula, who would become known to the world as Sephardim when they were expelled in 1492.
The descendents of Spain — and Sicily — spread throughout the world, establishing communities in North Africa, throughout the Ottoman empire, in the Netherlands and ultimately the British Isles and North America, as it was believed that Judaism faded away in their homelands.
Catania’s Jews disagree, arguing that many Jews practiced their religion over the centuries, in secret.
Triolo and others in the community formally inaugurated their synagogue in October. It was furnished with Torah scrolls donated by the Ohev Sholom synagogue in Washington, D.C.
The synagogue is situated in the tower of the Castello Luecatia, an early 20th-century structure built by a merchant believed to be of Jewish origin. The building was granted to the community by the city’s municipality.
“So they had the people, they had a synagogue, but they needed somebody to teach,” Ventura said.
The community meets in the Castello Luecatia, an early 20th-century structure built by a merchant believed to be of Jewish origin. (David I. Klein)
Ventura, who is Orthodox, may be the island’s first permanent working rabbi in over 500 years, but it’s not his first time working with Bnei Anusim.
Back in his native Brazil, Ventura was the leader of the Synagogue Without Borders, an organization through which he served 15 communities in Brazil’s north that were made up of descendants of Jews who came with the first Portuguese colonists to South America and who ultimately had to hide their identity as the Inquisition spread to the New World.
His work there put him in conflict with Brazil’s Jewish establishment, too. But Ventura is unfazed.
In Brazil, he founded synagogues and summer camps and built mikvahs and yeshivas across the country’s north. Since 2015, he has facilitated the conversion of hundreds of Bnei Anusim, bringing them back into the fold of mainstream Orthodox Judaism.
“I am a teacher since I was 21 years old,” he said. “Now I am 49, along with my wife. It’s one of the things we love to do, and know how to do. To teach Jewish philosophy, to teach Torah, to teach Tanakh, to teach the story of the Jews in Brazil, and now we are starting to teach the story of the Jews in Italy, the story of the Inquisition etcetera.”
In Castello Leucatia, he leads Shabbat services with the energy of a gospel preacher, pausing between prayers to explain a verse, teach a new tune, welcome latecomers, or simply to allow the congregation to talk.
Catania community members are shown at a recent gathering. (David I. Klein)
“This is what’s most important,” he remarked during one such lull on a recent Friday night. “That they get to talk and be a community.”
Ventura had organized a Shabbat event for other Jews across Italy — from Naples to Turin — who shared his belief that the future of Judaism was in communities like the one in Catania.
“Our point of view of Judaism is that we have to be a part of society, we don’t have to insulate ourselves, we believe that Judaism has a lot to contribute to society,” Ventura said. “In Brazil, we have a lot of connections with people from the periphery, in the favela and other communities, immigrants, Indians, etcetera. So that is something we want to establish here, to teach the people a Judaism that brings good things to the wider society.”
Ventura isn’t the only one working with such communities in southern Italy. Across the Strait of Messina, Jewish life has also been on the rise in Calabria — the toe of Italy’s boot — thanks to an American-born rabbi named Barbara Aiello.
Aiello, though raised in Pittsburgh, is of Calabrian descent. She returned to the land of her ancestors in the early 2000s and began working with the Bnei Anusim there, ultimately establishing a synagogue called Ner Tamid del Sud, meaning “eternal light of the south.”
“Until now, nobody took care of Judaism in the south of Italy,” Scibilia said while looking out at the Mediterranean from the terrace of Castello Leucatia.
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The post Sicily’s Jews have their first rabbi in 500 years. Italy’s Jewish establishment won’t accept them. appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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How to pursue justice: 5 lessons from the life of Stan Levy
At a time of so much division and injustice, when the temptation is to retreat into outrage or into ourselves, there is much to be learned in the life of our friend, Stan Levy.
Stan, who died Nov. 5 at the age of 84, founded Bet Tzedek Legal services and was a fixture in the Los Angeles legal, philanthropic and Jewish communities for close to 60 years. Ensuring fairness where it was absent was Stan’s calling, both as a lawyer and a rabbi.
How he set out to do that — the sheer range of his accomplishments — is daunting: an experienced concert promoter, a corporate general counsel and law firm partner at Manatt, Phelps & Phillips, an ordained rabbi, the founder and spiritual leader of a thriving congregation, B’nai Horin, the founder of a transdenominational rabbinical and cantorial school, the Academy of Jewish Religion, and, for good measure, the visionary behind the founding of three of the community’s most important legal aid organizations — Bet Tzedek, Public Counsel and the Western Center on Law & Poverty.
But the lessons behind the list matter more.
The first lesson: pay attention to the people others don’t see. The 1970s were something of a heyday for legal services, the funding relatively more plentiful and far less controversial than today. But Stan saw something few others did. There were no free legal services in what was then the center of Jewish life in Los Angeles, the Fairfax District. He recognized the significant needs of Holocaust survivors, a group otherwise invisible to most, and other low-income individuals and families living in the heart of the Jewish community. And in 1974, he founded Bet Tzedek Legal Services.
From its start as a small legal clinic in 1974, Bet Tzedek now draws on more than 1,100 staff and pro bono attorneys, and helped more than 82,000 people of all backgrounds in 2025. In 1970, before he turned 30, Stan launched Public Counsel, now the largest pro bono law firm in the country.
The second lesson of Stan’s life: build the institution, then let it outgrow you. Along with co-founder Luis Lainer, Stan continued to be a board member of Bet Tzedek for more than 50 years.
There was no founder’s syndrome for him. At various times we both served as CEOs at Bet Tzedek. We never heard Stan say, “That’s not the way we have done it.” Instead, he encouraged us and embraced changes. After 50 years, he was younger and more restless than the rest of us.
The third lesson: learn from everyone — especially from your own tradition. Stan was known to quote the likes of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and Muhammad Ali with equal fluency. His favorite quote from Heschel was, “An act of injustice is condemned not because the law is broken, but because a person has been hurt.” His favorite from The Greatest was, “Service to others is the rent I pay for my room here on earth.”
He was a Jewish leader deeply versed in Jewish learning — it’s not as common as you’d think. In 1968, Stan founded B’nai Horin, which translates as “Children of Freedom.” The congregation was never affiliated with a movement and remained welcoming to all, drawing hundreds to its High Holy Days services, b’nai mitzvah classes and Shabbat services.
In 2001, seeing the need for a seminary that would educate professionals like him who wanted to more deeply explore their Judaism, Stan co-founded the transdenominational Academy of Jewish Religion in Los Angeles, which ordains rabbis, cantors and chaplains. Stan could passionately explain access to justice while drawing on Jewish history, tradition and teachings.
The fourth lesson: successful leadership is measured by the number of people you lift. The impact Stan had on our individual lives reflects the way he touched so many people. He guided our careers, helped guide us into leadership positions at Bet Tzedek, performed Mitch’s wedding and led shiva services for David’s parents.
When David launched The Justice Ball, a new era in legal aid fundraising events, it was Stan who negotiated the contracts for the famed musical acts who appeared. When Mitch launched the Holocaust Survivor Justice Network, a national pro bono program, Stan stepped away from his role as a law firm partner and ran the program across the country. He created an international network of more than 5,000 attorneys who have helped secure over $200 million in reparations for survivors. He was a founder who never hesitated to show up to do the work.
The last lesson he taught us may be the most important: Stan and his wife Lynda were inseparable, a power couple before there was such a thing. His sons, Jules, Aaron and Joshua, were the subject of so many of his stories. Stan could balance being a Renaissance Man with his greatest talent of all, being a Family Man. Neither suffered for the other; he had room in his heart for his passions and his loves.
The world is far from healed — though not for Stan’s lack of trying. His life points the way forward for all of us: find the people who’ve been overlooked, build something to serve them, bring everyone you can into the room — and then keep going.
Stan Levy, may your memory be a blessing.
The post How to pursue justice: 5 lessons from the life of Stan Levy appeared first on The Forward.
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A Philadelphia bike ride targeting Jewish-owned businesses on the eve of Kristallnacht anniversary spurs outrage from city and state leaders
(JTA) — PHILADELPHIA – A bicycle ride promoting the boycott of businesses in Center City Philadelphia that organizers claim are complicit in Israeli military actions is drawing scathing criticism from state leaders.
Jewish groups in the city are calling the ride blatantly antisemitic, noting that it targets Jewish-owned businesses on Nov. 8, the eve of the 88th anniversary of Kristallnacht, the “Night of Broken Glass” when Nazi rioters vandalized and burned German Jewish businesses, synagogues and homes, a major escalation of Nazi persecution of Jews.
Organizers insist the timing is coincidental, and in statements posted on their Instagram pages accuse their critics of being “cynical” and weaponizing antisemitism to target pro-Palestinian advocates.
The Instagram post advertising the event in Rittenhouse Square reads: “Ride around Rittenhouse with us as we show these Zionist business owners that we see them for the disgusting human beings they are.” It continues, “We’ll flag as many bikes as we can and show our solidarity with the Palestinian community and oppressed folk everywhere.”
State and city officials expressing outrage at the planned ride include Philadelphia Mayor Cherelle Parker, a Democrat, Pennsylvania Attorney General Dave Sunday, a Republican, and Gov. Josh Shapiro, a Jewish Democrat considered a contender for the 2028 Democratic presidential nomination.
“As Mayor, I serve every Philadelphian under the explicit premise that freedom of speech and freedom from fear are not competing values,” Parker said in a statement. “No one should be targeted, threatened, or made to feel unwelcome because of their faith, identity, or background. Singling out businesses because their owners are Jewish is unacceptable and has no place in our city.”
A spokesperson for Shapiro, whose official residence was set ablaze on Passover last year by a man enraged by Israel’s conduct in Gaza, said the ride was clearly antisemitic.
“This bike ride, masquerading as a protest to advance the cause of justice, is nothing more than blatant antisemitism designed to intimidate and drive Jewish businesses out of our communities and there is no place for that in our commonwealth,” the spokesperson said.
Sunday said the restaurateurs were targeted because they are Jewish. “By explicitly targeting businesses because their owners are Jewish, the organizers are engaging in a form of discrimination that falls back on some of the oldest antisemitic tropes and tactics in history,” he said.
Hearing such support not only from political leaders but also from interfaith leaders throughout the city has left Philadelphia Board of Rabbis president David Levin “gratified.” “We’ve received broad-based support,” Rabbi Levin told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “The Jewish community obviously is finding it outrageous, but our civic leaders have stepped up with public comments.
“And my faith partners from other denominations have reached out to us in solidarity and support,” Levin said. “I’m delighted Philadelphia has lived up to its tagline as the City of Brotherly Love. We are feeling that.”
He called on those sympathetic to the businesses not to interfere with the bikers. “The worst thing we could do is find ourselves in a place where there’s confrontation and this thing escalates and people potentially put themselves in a position where they could get hurt,” Levin said.
“I’ve been sort of using the tagline ‘Keep the streets empty and the restaurants full,’” he said. “The best thing we can do in the days and weeks ahead is support these restaurateurs trying to make a living, and our community is turning out in droves.”
The organizers, Philly Bike On Your Left in collaboration with Philly Writers Against the War on Gaza, Boycott CookNSolo and Philly Solidarity Calendar, posted the invitation to join on Oct. 30 on Instagram.
“We call for a boycott because the owners materially and ideologically support the ongoing occupation and genocide of Palestinians,” Boycott CookNSolo, named for the restaurant chain owned by Israeli American celebrity chef Michael Solomonov, said. “Profits from their enterprises and from their fundraising efforts have been used to fund the occupation and to support pro-genocide interest groups in the U.S. and ‘Israel.’”
It is not clear why the organizers believe the businesses are tied to any “occupation,” or how they are “pro-genocide.”
Solomonov, who declined to comment, has been targeted in the past for fundraising for United Hatzalah, a first responder rescue group that works with a wide range of civil and government bodies in Israel and abroad, including the IDF. One such fundraiser came after the group said its resources were stretched thin due to their work to save lives and preserve the dead after the Oct. 7, 2023, deadly Hamas raids inside Israel. Other restaurant owners appear to have been targeted, according to protest organizers, for expressing support for Israel on social media after the attacks, which killed 1,200 people inside Israel.
Boycott CookNSolo also said that drawing attention to the Kristallnacht timing was “a cynical take that is not only offensive to the historical victims of Nazi persecution but an intentional distraction from the actual pogroms currently taking place in the West Bank and the wholesale destruction of life and livelihood in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and Iran.”
Schlesinger’s Deli owner Allan Domb, one of the targeted owners, said he was heartened by the broad support he received.
“It’s upsetting to see this level of hatred against four business owners for no reason,“ said Domb, a former Philadelphia city councilman. “It’s blatant antisemitism. But the positive side is, the amount of support from Philadelphia and outside of Philadelphia has been amazing.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post A Philadelphia bike ride targeting Jewish-owned businesses on the eve of Kristallnacht anniversary spurs outrage from city and state leaders appeared first on The Forward.
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Pro-Israel conservatives blast JD Vance for blaming Israel after GOP midterm losses
(JTA) — Conservative pro-Israel voices are lashing out at Vice President JD Vance after he linked the Republican Party’s massive midterm losses to the country’s relationship with Israel and the war in Iran.
Vance on Wednesday said that “the real reason we lost is obvious to almost everyone” and listed four strategies to bring back voters: end the war in Iran; focus on the cost of living and inflation; put America first and “change our relationship to Israel.”
Eric Levine, a board member of the Republican Jewish Coalition, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that he doesn’t “recall seeing a single exit poll in which any voter identified ‘change our relationship with Israel’ as a factor in their voting decision.”
“It makes you wonder why he would make such a claim,” Levine added.
Conservative radio personality Sid Rosenberg, a Jewish New Yorker and friend of President Donald Trump, slammed the vice president and cited his “constant calls for a ceasefire” as the reason why the conflict with Iran has persisted.
“Vance is a disloyal, agenda driven problem for our party moving forward,” Rosenberg wrote on X, urging Trump to replace him as chief Iran negotiator with Secretary of State Marco Rubio, a favorite of Rosenberg’s and other Jewish conservatives for the 2028 GOP presidential nod.
Rosenberg has long criticized Vance for not being “strong enough on Israel” and has demanded that Vance distance himself from Tucker Carlson, a right-wing commentator who condemns U.S. military aid for Israel and who has been accused of amplifying antisemitic tropes.
In September, Rosenberg accepted an invitation to meet with Vance at the White House, as the vice president attempted to make overtures to the Jewish community following a series of controversial remarks about Israel. Following the meeting, Rosenberg reported that he and Vance “hit it off,” adding that the two men would likely have “many more meetings about very substantial things” in the future.
“He is willing to listen,” Rosenberg said at the time. “I don’t think by any stretch that JD Vance hates Israel, hates the Jewish people.”
Jonathan Greenberg, director for combatting antisemitism at Defending Education and a former staffer for the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, told JTA earlier this week that he viewed Vance’s comments as “nonsense.”
“The same Islamist-communist alliance that’s infiltrating our schools and teaching our kids to hate America is the same alliance that Israel is fighting,” said Greenberg, who ran for state office in Illinois as a Republican in 2012 but is now unaffiliated.
“The idea that we’re going to take an ally in that fight and feed them to the same ogre that’s coming after us makes absolutely no sense to me,” he added. “I think the vice president’s wrong.”
CUFI Action Fund, a nonprofit branch of the pro-Israel advocacy group Christians United for Israel, described the vice president in a statement as “clearly, demonstrably and unambiguously wrong.”
“In a list of the top four reasons the Republicans lost, the Jews were effectively blamed twice if you can hear that pitch of dog whistle,” the statement said, referring to Vance’s fingerpointing to both Israel and the war in Iran.
“This war should’ve been over months ago, and if the vice president wants someone to blame for that, he needs only look in the mirror,” the organization said, alluding to the argument that Vance’s proposed concessions to Iran helped spur the war instead of ending it. “The Vance-Carlson movement, which we call woke rightism, is as loud as their candidates are weak.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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