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Jewish marriage rites are robust. Now a rabbi is innovating rituals for Jews who divorce.
(J. The Jewish News of Northern California via JTA) — For Lyssa Jaye, throwing the wood chips into the Tuolumne River felt in many ways familiar to the tashlich ritual performed on Rosh Hashanah. But rather than casting off her sins, she was tossing away feelings: shame, resentment, anger.
They were the emotions that had taken residence inside Jaye since her divorce eight years ago, along with a sense of failure. And she had come to a Jewish retreat to rid herself of them.
“I’ve been carrying around these feelings for years now,” Jaye said. “I have a completely different life now, and I needed to let them go.”
Jaye was taking part in Divorce & Discovery: A Jewish Healing Retreat, the first-ever gathering in a series conceived by Rabbi Deborah Newbrun as part of her training, held this month at Camp Tawonga in the Bay Area.
One of the requirements at the Pluralistic Rabbinical Seminary, where Newbrun was ordained last year in the first graduating class, “was that each of us had to do an innovation, or something that didn’t exist before,” she said.
Newbrun, who directed Camp Tawonga for more than two decades, has been recognized for innovative programming for such achievements as initiating Tawonga’s LGBT family camp and founding its wilderness department. She even won a prestigious 2018 Covenant Award for Jewish educators. But as she started thinking about how to fulfill the seminary requirement, her first thought was, “I don’t have any ideas left in me.”
Then she began reflecting back on her divorce years earlier. She remembered how she had approached numerous rabbis and colleagues in search of Jewish support around the grief she felt. And how they all came up empty-handed.
That’s when she realized: “I can put together something meaningful and helpful for people going through divorce.”
From the moment participants arrived at Camp Tawonga near Yosemite, they knew this would be no ordinary Jewish retreat. At the opening event, all of the facilitators, several clergy members and a therapist shared their own divorce stories, “to set the standard and normalize vulnerability, transparent sharing and establish that we all know what it’s like to have a marriage end,” Newbrun said.
Most participants were from the Bay Area, with a handful from farther afield. They were in different life stages, from those in their 30s dealing with custody battles over young children, to empty nesters in their 60s. Some had separated from their partners years ago, while others had gone their separate ways more recently. Some split amicably; a good many did not. But all had come up against a lack of Jewish resources or support when navigating this major life passage.
Rabbi Deborah Newbrun, the founder of Divorce and Discovery at the recent weekend. (Photo/Margot Yecies)
Jaye said she left no stone unturned in seeking out support, an experience Newbrun said she heard echoed by many participants. Jaye attended a retreat at a local meditation center. She read self-help books. She joined a support group for divorcees. She went to therapy.
And while they all helped in different ways, none was specifically Jewish.
“I knew I needed some kind of spiritual way forward,” she said. “I needed to do this in my own language, with my own people.”
Even though the retreat came nearly a decade years after Jaye’s divorce, “it was profound. It felt like coming home, and that this is what I needed all along. This model could be extremely powerful. The rituals we did could be taught in rabbinical schools or to Jewish educators so it’s not just ‘sign this get and goodbye,’” she said, referring to the Jewish divorce document.
Rather than create new rituals, Newbrun and her facilitators took familiar Jewish rituals and retooled them.
The tashlich ritual, led by Newbrun and Maggid Jhos Singer, had a call-and-response portion, and participants also could call out what they personally wanted to cast off. “One person ‘tashliched’ their wedding ring into the river and felt it was such a perfect place to let it go!” said Newbrun.
An optional immersion in the Tuolumne River followed. Jaye, who years ago went to the mikvah alone, with only the attendant there for support, said there was no comparison with how much more healing it felt performing the ritual in community.
A session on sitting shiva for one’s marriage, led by Rabbi Sue Reinhold, allowed participants to share and mourn the loss of what they missed most about being married. That resonated for Robyn Lieberman, who does not attend synagogue services but went to every session at the retreat on innovating Jewish rituals.
“I did need to mourn what I’m losing,” said Lieberman, who had been married to an Israeli. “We had a very public, open house around Jewish religion, and a constant Israeli identity, which fulfilled my Jewish needs.”
Rabbi Jennie Chabon of Congregation B’nai Tikvah in Walnut Creek reflected on how much time she has spent with couples preparing for their wedding day, both in premarital counseling and in planning the event, and on how many marriage-related topics are covered in rabbinical school.
“And when it comes to divorce? Nothing,” Chabon said. “We’re all out here on our own trying to figure out how to wander through it.”
She was tasked with creating a havdalah ceremony with a divorce theme, in which she reimagined the wine, spices and flame typically used to mark a division between Shabbat and the rest of the week.
“There’s a fire that burns within each of us, and that flame doesn’t go out,” said Chabon, 47. “When you’re married for a long time, your identity, energy and spirit is so woven into that of another.” Her ritual was meant to affirm that “you are on fire just as you are, and you’re a blessing as an individual in the world. You don’t need a partnership or family to be whole.”
Even the Shabbat Torah service was on theme.
Rabbi Jennie Chabon reads from the Torah during a service at the Divorce and Discovery retreat. (Photo/Margot Yecies)
Rather than focusing on Noah’s emergence from the ark after the flood, Chabon spoke about a lesser-known section of the week’s Torah portion, in which Noah builds a fire and offers a sacrifice to God. But if the entire earth was drenched from the flood, Chabon asked, what did he burn?
“The answer is he must have burned the ark,” Chabon said in recalling her talk at the retreat. “What does that mean for people going through this incredibly painful and tender time in their lives, when what was once a safe container and secure and protected them, they have to burn it down in order to start life anew?
“This is a perfect rebirth metaphor. But what’s being birthed is a new self and a new identity in the world as a single person,” Chabon said. “You have to release and let go of what was to make room for the blessing for who you’re going to become.”
At a ritual “hackathon” workshop presented by Newbrun, participants suggested standing during Kaddish at synagogue to mourn their marriages, and offering their children a Friday night blessing that they are whole whether they are at either parent’s home.
Not all of the sessions centered on Jewish ritual. In a session on the Japanese art of kintsugi, or mending broken pottery, attendees made vessels whose cracks they fixed with putty, symbolizing that beauty can be found in imperfection. Many danced in a Saturday-night silent disco.
Everyone was assigned to a small group, or havurah, that they met with daily, so they could establish deeper connections within the larger cohort.
“To have gone through some of these practices was very meaningful to me,” said Lieberman. “It’s not like I put a seal on my marriage and wrapped it up in a bow and put it behind me, but it was a nice catharsis for completing a transition that I’ve been very thoughtful about.”
Newbrun aims to recreate the retreat in communities around the country. Both Jaye and Lieberman said they found value in being in community with people “who get it,” without the judgment they often face.
“I was a little skeptical that all I’d have in common with people was that we were Jewish and divorced, and that that wouldn’t be enough for me to form a relationship,” said Lieberman. “But having the willingness to talk about it and explore it did open up a lot of very vulnerable conversations. The expert facilitation really made us think about the fact that divorce is not about your paper [certificate], it’s about reexamining the direction of your life and who you want to be.”
A version of this piece originally ran in J. The Jewish News of Northern California, and is reprinted with permission.
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The post Jewish marriage rites are robust. Now a rabbi is innovating rituals for Jews who divorce. appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Saul Rubinek plays a version of himself in ‘Playing Shylock’
דער מאָנטרעאַלער אַקטיאָר סאָל רובינעק האָט אַ סך װאָס צו דערציילן.
ער איז דערצו אויך אַ גרויסער מאמין אינעם כּוח פֿון דערציילן.
„דערציילן איז אַלץ,“ זאָגט ער.
טאַקע די פֿראַזע האָט רובינעק, בעת אַן אינטערװיו מיט מיר, אויסגעקליבן װי אַ פּרוּװ איבערצוזעצן דעם טיטל פֿון זײַן אויטאָביאָגראַפֿישן ראָמאַן, All in the Telling. אַרויס פֿון דרוק אין 2025, איז דער ראָמאַן אַ האַלב־פֿיקטיװע כראָניק פֿון זײַנע עטלערן, ביידע פֿון דער שארית־הפּליטה, און זײַנע פֿאַרװיקלטע באַציִונגען מיט זיי און מיט זייערע טראַװמאַטישע לעבנס־געשיכטעס.
דער טיטל װאָלט זיך אויך גוט צוגעפּאַסט צו זײַן אויפֿטריט אין דער מאָנאָדראַמע Playing Shylock („דאָס שפּילן שײַלאָק“), געשריבן פֿונעם קאַנאַדער דראַמאַטורג מאַרק לירין־יאָנג. די פּיעסע וועט מען שפּילן ביזן 7טן דעצעמבער אין פּאָלאָנסקי־שעקספּיר־צענטער אין ברוקלין.
במשך פֿון דער פּיעסע, דערציילט ער, פֿאַרציילט ער, רעדט ער זיך אַראָפּ פֿון האַרצן. און דער אינהאַלט פֿון זײַנע שפֿעדיקע רייד? אַ פֿיקטיװע, אַנולירטע אויפֿפֿירונג פֿון שעקספּירס „דער קויפֿמאַן פֿון װענעדיג“. במשך פֿון זײַנע צװיי שעה אויף דער בינע הערן מיר די צרות פֿון אַן אַקטיאָר, װאָס האָט געדאַרפֿט שפּילן די ראָלע פֿון שײַלאָק אין דער דאָזיקער פּראָדוקציע: צרות מיט די פּראָדוצענטן, מיטן הײַנטצײַטיקן אַנטיסעמיטיזם און שמאָלקעפּיקײט, און צרות מיט זיך אַליין — װײַל רובינעק שפּילט טאַקע אַ װערסיע פֿון זיך אַליין אין דער אויפֿפֿירונג.
די דראַמע איז אַ רעװידירטער נוסח פֿון אַ פּיעסע, „שײַלאָק“, װאָס לירין־יאָנג האָט צוערשט אָנגעשריבן אין 1996. (אַגבֿ, יוסף באָװשאָװערס באַקאַנטע ייִדישע איבערזעצונג פֿון דער פּיעסע, װאָס מען האָט אַ מאָל געשפּילט אויף דער צווייטער עװעניו, הייסט אויך „שײַלאָק“.) אינעם נײַעם נוסח פֿון לירין־יאָנגס װערק, שפּיגלט די פּיעסע אָפּ פֿאַרשיידענע פֿאַקטן פֿונעם הויפּט־אַקטיאָרס לעבן, און דער עולם װייסט קיין מאָל נישט װאָסער פּרט איז אַן אויסגעטראַכטער און װאָסערער איז טאַקע אַ טשיקאַװעס פֿון רובינעקס לעבן. אין דעם ליגט אַ סך פֿון דער פּיעסעס שפּאַנונג און אומזיכערקייט.
אין עטלעכע מאָמענטן, דעקלאַמירט רובינעק שײַלאָקס מאָנאָלאָגן אין דער שטים פֿונעם טאַטן — אַפֿילו אַ מאָל מיט אַ גמרא־ניגון („װער דען װאָלט געשפּילט שײַלאָק אַזוי?“ האָט ער מיך שפּעטער רעטאָריש געפֿרעגט). בײַם סוף פֿון דער פּיעסע, װאָס איז כּמעט אין גאַנצן אויף ענגליש, הערן מיר די באַרימטע רעדע „האָט דען אַ ייִד ניט קיין אויגן?“, דװקא אויף מאַמע־לשון.
„אין זײַן ספּעציפֿישקייט, װערט ייִדיש אוניװערסאַל,“ זאָגט רובינעק, װאָס האָט אויך געשפּילט אויף ייִדיש אינעם פֿילם Shttl („שטטל“, 2002) און די ראָלע פֿון הירש ראַסיינער (אויף ענגליש) אינעם פֿילם The Quarrel (די קריג, 1991), באַזירט אויף חיים גראַדעס דערציילונג. „אין זײַן ספּעציפֿישקייט װעגן אונדזערע איבערלעבונגען װי מענטשן, װי ייִדן, קענען מיר זיך ׳האַלטן בײַ די הענט׳ מיט דער גאַנצער װעלט.“
טיילװײַז האָט דער אַקטיאָר טאַקע דורכגעפֿירט דעם שמועס מיט מיר אויף ייִדיש, װאָס, ער איז מודה, קומט אים אָן שװערלעך, נאָר װאָס ער האָט בײַ זיך „נישט אין קאָפּ, נאָר אין האַרצן.“
איך האָב אים געפֿרעגט, צי ער פּרוּווט טאַקע פֿאַרגופֿן אין דער פּיעסע די אינטאָנאַציעס און זשעסטן פֿונעם טאַטן?
„איך האָב אַפֿילו ניט געדאַרפֿט פּרוּװן. אַלע קינדער קענען נאָכמאַכן זייערע טאַטע־מאַמעס,“ האָט ער געזאָגט. „דאָס גאַנצע לעבן האָב איך געזען װי דער טאַטע טרעט אויף פֿאַר משפּחה און פֿרײַנד. אַ נאַטירלעכער דערציילער איז ער געװען.“
מאַכט דער רמב״ן: „מעשׂה אָבֿות סימן לבנים“ — די טאַטן פֿון די עלטערן און די עלטערנס עלטערן זאָגן פֿאָרויס דאָס לעבן פֿון די קינדער.
רובינעקס טאַטע, ישׂראל רובינעק, אַ געבוירענער אין לאָדזש, האָט אָנגעפֿירט מיט אַ טעאַטער־טרופּע אין די־פּי־לאַגער פֿערנװאַלד, אין בײַערן. רובינעק איז טאַקע געבוירן געװאָרן אין דער זעלבער נאַכט, וואָס דער טאַטע איז דאָרט אויפֿגעטראָטן ווי דער גולם אין לייװיקס באַרימטער דראַמאַטישע פּאָעמע, אין 1948.
אָט דער צופֿאַל, דאָס געשעעניש, שמעקט מיט באַשערטקייט, מיט הייליקייט אַפֿילו. די אָ הייליקייט באַמערקט רובינעק אין משך פֿון „דאָס שפּילן שײַלאָק“, אין איינער פֿון דער פּיעסעס שטאַרקסטע רעפּליקן:
„איך האָב קיין מאָל ניט געגלייבט אין גאָט. איך גלייב אין דעם, אין טעאַטער. דאָס איז הייליק.“
אָבער אויך אין ייִדיש גלייבט ער. „ייִדיש, װי טעאַטער, איז קאָמונאַל — און איז הייליק,“ האָט ער מיר געזאָגט. „װי לאַנג האָט מען געזאָגט אַז טעאַטער איז טויט? אַזוי אויך מיט ייִדיש.“
דער אַקטיאָר זאָגט אַז עס גלוסט זיך אים איצט שפּילן אין ייִדישן טעאַטער, און ער האַלט אין אַרומרעדן מעגלעכע פּראָיעקטן.
אויך מיר, סײַ צוקוקער סײַ מיט־אַרטיסטן, קוקן אַרויס אויף דעם — אויף נאָך אַזאַ קאָמונאַלער, עקסטרע־הייליקער איבערלעבונג אין טונקעלן טעאַטער־זאַל, װוּ גאָר ניט איז ניט קאָנקרעט און קלאָר.
װי רובינעק זאָגט אין דער נײַער אויפֿפֿירונג, מיט פֿאַררייטלטע באַקן און שטאַרק אַקטיװירטע ברוגז־מוסקלען: „דער טעאַטער איז ניט קיין safe space (געזיכערט אָרט).“
דאָס הייסט, דער טעאַטער איז פֿאָרט אַ פֿאָרום פֿאַר פֿראַגעס, חילוקי־דעות, און גײַסטיקן געראַנגל.
זאָל זײַן אַזוי.
די פּיעסע וועט מען שפּילן ביזן 7טן דעצעמבער אין פּאָלאָנסקי־שעקספּיר־צענטער אין ברוקלין. צו קויפֿן בילעטן גיט אַ קוועטש דאָ.
The post Saul Rubinek plays a version of himself in ‘Playing Shylock’ appeared first on The Forward.
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Hasidic leader defends support for Mamdani. ‘I’m taking beatings to save you’
Zohran Mamdani’s election as New York City mayor is further deepening divisions within the Jewish community, with some mainstream organizations now adopting a wait-and-see approach while others denounce him as an “enemy.” At the same time, support for Mamdani among certain Hasidic groups is drawing growing attention.
In a recent tense interview with Mishpacha magazine, a weekly conservative publication widely read in the Haredi community, Rabbi Moshe Indig, a political leader of the sect known as the Ahronim, was pressed to defend his public embrace of Mamdani in the final days of the mayoral race. (The Ahronim is led by Rabbi Aaron Teitelbaum from Kiryas Joel.)
“People call me a kapo,” Indig told the magazine, using a term that originally referred to Jewish inmates at Nazi concentration camps who were assigned to assist the SS. “Anyone who knows what a kapo is can see that I am the exact opposite — a kapo beat you up to save himself. I’m taking beatings to save you.”
Indig’s endorsement of Mamdani set off a firestorm within the community, exposing sharp internal divides over whether the candidate deserved the trust of many Jews. Criticism of Mamdani intensified after the election, following his mixed response to the protest outside the Park East Synagogue, which featured anti-Israel and antisemitic slogans. Mamdani, through a spokesperson, questioned the use of a sacred place for an event promoting migration to Israel, while also discouraging the language that was used at the protest.
“I’m taking missiles over this, not just bullets,” Indig said in the interview. He explained that his support stemmed from Mamdani’s quiet, sustained outreach to Haredi leaders and his clear status as the race’s frontrunner, saying Mamdani had simply earned the endorsement.
“I didn’t promise him votes,” Indig said. “I explained that because the community was so convinced of his antisemitism, I wouldn’t be able to get the majority of people to vote for him.”
Mamdani, he said, replied that he wasn’t seeking votes so much as an opportunity to show he could earn the community’s trust and disprove their perceptions of him. “I saw that as a beautiful invitation to our community,” Indig said.
Part of Mamdani’s outreach included a visit to Hasidic leaders in South Williamsburg during Sukkot and an open letter in Hasidic Yiddish that outlined his plans to combat antisemitism and advance his affordability agenda.
Andrew Cuomo, who won a majority of the Jewish vote and dominated Hasidic areas in Brooklyn on Election Day, failed to do that sort of politicking, Indig said. “Cuomo, who was supposed to be the favorite of the Jews, didn’t ask to go to any sukkah. Not one,” he said.
Indig’s endorsement of Mamdani marks the third consecutive mayoral race in which the Ahronim has demonstrated its political influence by backing the eventual winner, while other Hasidic blocs supported rival candidates. In 2021, they endorsed Eric Adams over Andrew Yang, who was favored by most leading Hasidic sects. And in 2013, they backed Bill de Blasio, who narrowly avoided a runoff in the Democratic primary by just 5,000 votes, while the Zalonim and other groups supported Bill Thompson, then seen as the frontrunner.
“We are currently the only Yidden with access to the future City Hall,” he boasted, using the Yiddish word for Jews. He hopes that changes, he said.
Last month, Mamdani named more than a dozen diverse Jewish leaders and activists to his transition team. Monica Klein, the Mamdani transition’s communications director, said the subcommittees are preparing to implement his “agenda of safety and security for Jewish New Yorkers and everyone else who calls this city home, including his pledge for an 800% increase in anti-hate crime prevention.”
Perceptions of Mamdani have yet to change. A recent poll of 745 American Jews found that 67% believed Mamdani’s election would make New York City’s Jews less safe, while 6% believed they would be safer. The Anti-Defamation League, which clashed with Mamdani during the election, launched a monitor to track Mamdani’s appointments and policies. The ADL also criticized the inclusion of Tamika Mallory as a member of the transition committee on community safety. Mallory co-founded the 2017 Women’s March, then stepped down from the organization after criticism over her ties to Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan and her refusal to affirm Israel’s right to exist.
Indiq affirmed that he’s comfortable with his decision. “Getting guarantees from him before the election gives me critical leverage afterward — if he fails to be a friend, I can call him on his promise to be there for us,” he said.
The post Hasidic leader defends support for Mamdani. ‘I’m taking beatings to save you’ appeared first on The Forward.
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Israel’s Netanyahu Says Syria Deal Possible, Expects Buffer Zone
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu participates in the state memorial ceremony for the fallen of the Iron Swords War on Mount Herzl, in Jerusalem, Oct. 16, 2025. Photo: Alex Kolomoisky/Pool via REUTERS
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said on Tuesday a deal with Syria is possible and he expects Syrian authorities to establish a demilitarized buffer zone from Damascus to Mount Hermon and other areas.
Netanyahu spoke a day after US President Donald Trump, whose administration has been trying to broker a non-aggression pact between the two countries, said it was very important that Israel maintained a “strong and true dialogue” with Damascus.
Syria does not formally recognize Israel, which following the fall of longtime Syrian leader Bashar al-Assad in December moved troops into a buffer zone along the Syrian border to secure a military position to prevent terrorists from launching attacks against the Jewish state.
The previously demilitarized zone in the Golan Heights, a strategic region on Israel’s northern border previously controlled by Syria and later annexed by Israel, was established under the 1974 Disengagement of Forces Agreement between Damascus and Jerusalem that ended the Yom Kippur War. However, Israel considered the agreement void after the collapse of Assad’s regime.
“What we expect Syria to do is, of course, to establish a demilitarized buffer zone from Damascus to the buffer area, including the approaches to Mount Hermon and the Hermon peak,” Netanyahu said while visiting wounded soldiers in central Israel. “We hold these areas in order to ensure the security of Israel’s citizens, and that is what obligates us.”
He added: “With goodwill and an understanding of these principles, it is possible to reach an agreement with the Syrians, but we will stand by our principles in any case.”
Trump has backed Syria‘s new leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa, while Israel has voiced wariness over Sharaa’s past links to Islamist militancy, but has engaged in efforts to broker a deal.
An Israeli raid in southern Syria on Friday killed 13 Syrians, Syrian state media reported. The Israeli military said it had targeted a Lebanese Islamist militant group there. Netanyahu on Tuesday was visiting soldiers wounded in the clash.