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Picking a new rabbi? A new novel about a church shows how
(JTA) — About a decade ago, I served on my synagogue’s rabbinic search committee. Normally I am allergic to any activity at which minutes will be taken, but it was a great experience, thanks to the care and intelligence that my fellow committee members brought to the process. Flush with satisfaction for a job well done and probably a little full of ourselves, we even imagined other synagogues might learn from our example. We spoke about putting together a seminar, or perhaps a how-to book.
No one, I recall, suggested turning the experience into a novel.
That’s why I’m not Michelle Huneven, who this year published a novel about a church’s search for a new minister. I’ve been recommending it to anyone who wants to understand shul politics, or wants reassurance that Jews are just like everybody else, no more and no less.
“Search” is narrated by Dana, a 50-something restaurant critic, former seminarian and once-active congregant at a Unitarian Universalist church in Arroyo, California, who is recruited to the search committee when the current pastor announces plans to retire. The book tracks the search process from in-house focus groups to Skype interviews with applicants to the finalists’ “candidating week” — what you and I might call “auditions.”
Despite an unlikely premise for a mainstream novel, ”Search” is a smart, funny and enlightening book about contemporary religion, especially of the liberal, undogmatic variety that is typical of Unitarian Universalism and, well, much of non-Orthodox Judaism. It’s a worthy companion to “The New Rabbi,” Stephen Fried’s 2002 nonfiction book about a Philadelphia-area synagogue and its own search.
Huneven captures the impossible nature of a clergy person’s job, and especially the unrealistic expectation of congregations that want their spiritual leader to be all things to all people. Trying to narrow down what they are looking for, members of the search committee call out qualifications:
“‘Sermons with more spiritual depth and intellectual content,’ said Charlotte.
“‘Someone with an efficient, organized management style,’ said Belinda.”
Wonders Dana: “Who didn’t want a warm presence with a progressive social conscience, the management skills of a corporate CEO, and the work-life boundaries of a New Age life coach?”
As the Conservative movement’s Rabbinical Assembly warns in its manual for search committees, searches founder “not because of a dearth of qualified candidates but because the congregation’s expectations of rabbinic candidates is unrealistic.”
Regular synagogue-goers will recognize the tensions in the novel between the older members and the newcomers, between boomers and millennials, between theists and humanists. At one point, the assistant minister remembers when a midweek service led by a student intern began attracting a core of people who weren’t showing up on Sundays.
“You can’t have two congregations, no matter how small one is,” she explains. “It sets up a potential schism.”
Clergy searches are fraught because nearly every congregant regards themself as the rabbi’s boss. On the flip side, members grow attached to longtime rabbis, even when they outlast their changing congregations. In “Search,” the senior minister has been with the church for eight years, but remains under the shadow of his beloved predecessor, who had served for 28 years. (I was married by the “new rabbi” at my wife’s family’s synagogue, who at that point had been on the job for about 20 years.)
“Search” isn’t a satire, exactly, but Huneven has fun with the political and social winds that are blowing through liberal denominations. Some of the congregants are set on hiring a woman after almost four decades of male leadership. “But we can’t say that explicitly,” Dana warns. Another character is angling to be the head of the national church association, “though it’s not such a clear shot for straight white guys these days,” says a church consultant.
Unitarian Universalist, or UU, churches are also staunchly secular, which means the clergy don’t have to express a belief in God, let alone Jesus or a strict theology. That brings with it the paradox of choice: “Our ministers can be gay, trans, Buddhist, atheist, any race, or same-sex adoptive parents with mixed-race families. You name it,” says a member of the committee. “That’s the future. Everybody’s in.”
I would guess that a lot of liberal synagogues would love to be as open and diverse as that, but bump up against the reality that, despite a growing number of Jews by choice and Jews of color, synagogues tend to be white, upper-middle-class and heteronormative. As for theology, rare is the synagogue that doesn’t want its rabbi to “have been inspired to serve God,” as the R.A. handbook puts it; on the other hand, search committees disagree about how much theology and “God talk” they want from the bima.
And yet, even the most secular UU church or most liberal synagogue pursues the sacred in the ways they gather, worship, mourn and serve the community. As the squabbles intensify in “Search,” one older member of the committee laments that they’ve lost sight of their goal: how the search for a new clergyperson is a “a sacred task that will grow us spiritually.”
During my time on the search committee, I saw the sausage-making of synagogue life. Compromise is always hard. Even the most thorough, transparent search process is bound to disappoint someone.
And “Search” the novel can be, at times, as tedious as a real-life rabbinic search, as characters deliberate over candidates at painstaking length. But Huneven understands that holiness is not just a matter of reading from a prayer book or studying from a text, but lives in the way people create communities and choose their leaders. It’s a messy process, but if you do it in good faith and in a spirit of humility, you might end up with a pretty great rabbi.
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Brown University students light first Hanukkah candle in the shadow of mass shooting
(JTA) — PROVIDENCE, Rhode Island — Dozens of Brown University students shielded their candles at a menorah lighting that doubled as a vigil on Sunday night as the Hanukkah arrived under a sheet of snow and a thick blanket of trauma, following a mass shooting in an economics class.
On Saturday, a gunman opened fire on a room where students had gathered to review for their final exam in Principles of Economics, Brown’s most popular class that is dominated by freshmen. He killed two students and injured nine others at the Barus and Holley engineering and physics building in Providence, Rhode Island.
The school went into lockdown for 12 hours and subsequently canceled all academic exercises for the rest of the semester. On Sunday night, Providence Mayor Brett Smiley said a police investigation was ongoing and a person of interest detained earlier in the day was being released.
Yael Ranel Filus, a sophomore engineering student from Israel, goes daily to Barus and Holley and was at a nearby building when shots rang out. She said she had been in touch with fellow Israeli students, who like her were in disbelief.
“We were talking in the group channel, like, ‘Oh, we thought we left that at home. We thought we left those tragedies at home,’” Filus said. “I don’t think any of us thought we would encounter something like this here.”
Another tragedy loomed over the menorah lighting led by two rabbis, Josh Bolton and Mendel Laufer, the respective heads of Brown’s Hillel and Chabad, located on adjacent blocks at the heart of the school’s urban campus. Across the world on Sunday, at least 15 people were killed and dozens injured in a shooting attack on Jews who gathered to celebrate Hanukkah in Sydney.
Bolton said both shootings were on his mind during a speech to the crowd of students, professors and Hillel staff.
“The message of Hanukkah here is that we should increase the light,” he said. “Even in the midst of this very dark and difficult moment, together as a community, we come together and we give each other a little bit of light.”
Brown recently struck a $50 million settlement with the Trump administration over allegations of antisemitism tied to pro-Palestinian protests during the war in Gaza. It drew particular criticism for allowing students to present a proposal to divest from Israel to the school’s board of overseers, who rejected it.
The school has a Jewish president, Christina Paxson, and the highest proportion of Jewish students in the Ivy League, with particular growth in recent years among its Orthodox student population. It recently hosted a major gathering to celebrate 130 years of Jewish life that attracted alumni from around the world as well as prominent figures including Robert Kraft, founder of the Foundation to Combat Antisemitism.
The economics class that was attacked is taught by Rachel Friedberg, a Jewish faculty member who researches the intersection of economics and Jewish studies and who has worked extensively in Israel, though she was not in the classroom at the time. Police have not indicated any antisemitic motive behind the shooting. But they also have not identified the shooter, igniting unease on campus and speculation online, particularly in the wake of the Sydney attack.
Bolton said regardless of the motive, Brown was being forced to contend with a nationwide plague.
“Whether or not the shooter was antisemitic or anti-Muslim or anti-LGBTQ or whatever, the burden of our culture is lonely, disturbed, usually young men with guns, and you can add whatever other layers of ideological hatred to it,” he said.
The Brown community was ravaged by gun violence only two years ago, when a Brown student, Hisham Awartani, was among three Palestinian students were shot over Thanksgiving break in Burlington, Vermont. Awartani was hit in the spine and paralyzed from the waist down.
The shock that ripped through Brown this weekend was familiar to Zoe Weissman, a sophomore who has lived through two school shootings in her 20 years. As a 12 year-old in Parkland, Florida, she was outside her middle school when she heard gunshots and screams from the adjacent Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, where 17 people were killed in 2018. She said the shooting left her with post-traumatic stress disorder.
“I’m an example of how prevalent gun violence is becoming,” said Weissman. “If you look at the statistics of mass shootings, it should be physically impossible for this to have happened to me twice. And that’s a fact I used to use to comfort myself.”
Another Brown student, junior Mia Tretta, was shot in the abdomen during a 2019 attack on Saugus High School in California.
Weissman left Brown before the communal Hanukkah lighting, but she lit the first candle with a few friends at a house off-campus.
“It’s a tradition I’ve grown up with, so it’s something that makes me feel really comfortable,” she said. “It wasn’t something that I wanted to skip for the first time ever because of this.”
The shooting began in the last hour of Shabbat, when over 30 students were gathered at Hillel, many without their phones. They were ordered to shelter on the third floor with the lights off.
Bolton arrived about an hour later with water and food for the night. He wanted the group to mark havdalah, the ritual to note the end of Shabbat traditionally performed once three stars can be spotted in the sky. Bolton and the students did havdalah in a windowless room, whispering over candles in the dark.
Aaron Perrotta, a junior who was there, said that some jokes mixed in with the panic. “It was nice to have a little sense of normalcy and be able to close out Shabbat like that,” he said.
“I think a lot of us bonded and got closer together, just being in such a tight space upstairs,” said Max Zimmer, a sophomore.
Filus was blocks away from Barus and Holley at the Nelson Center for Entrepreneurship on Saturday night. She and nine other students rotated sleeping shifts, as Brown’s Department of Public Safety advised having one person alert until the lockdown ended.
Filus went to the candle lighting on Olive Street after sitting with friends at the neighboring Hillel building.
“It’s a safe space,” she said. “I don’t really want to be alone right now. I don’t want to be in my room.”
The post Brown University students light first Hanukkah candle in the shadow of mass shooting appeared first on The Forward.
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At Chabad Hanukkah party in California, hours after Bondi Beach massacre, joy defied grief’s shadow
PACIFIC PALISADES, CALIFORNIA – A familiar sight at public gatherings, especially Jewish ones — young men in Hasidic garb wrapping black leather tefillin straps around the arms of strangers — felt different here Sunday evening as Rabbi Shimon Goldberg helped Rick Entin fulfill the commandment at a Hanukkah block party in the Palisades. The mitzvahs of tefillin and lighting candles had become acts of defiance and joy as the gathering grieved the 15 people killed at a Chabad Hanukkah event in Sydney.
The attack cut deeply in the close-knit Chabad community, whose brand — and vulnerability — lies in the proud public practicing of Jewish rituals. Some of them were personally connected to Rabbi Eli Schlanger, the Chabad emissary who had organized the Sydney event, and died in the attack.
Yet they were celebrating Hanukkah on Sunday with a group that knew something about resilience: 11 months earlier, the Palisades fire tore through this area, destroying thousands of homes, including Entin’s just up the street. For many, the Hanukkah event was the first time they had been in Jewish community in the Palisades since the inferno. This was the occasion the Palisades Chabad — whose campus was damaged in the fire — had planned to commemorate, and from which its leaders would not be deterred.

“Whoever was strategizing this terrorist attack, they want the Jews not just in Sydney, but even in Los Angeles to fear showing up for a Hanukkah event,” said Goldberg, head of a local Chabad-affiliated nonprofit, as he placed a tefillin box atop Entin’s forehead. “This we won’t allow them to do.”
The 38th annual Palisades candlelighting was always going to be bittersweet; many there remained displaced by the fire, and some remain unsure whether they will rebuild. Jewish leaders who planned the event said they did not need to change the program due to the terrorist attack — it was already about celebration in the face of loss.
So, too, is Hanukkah, a holiday that tells of a miraculous jug of oil found amid great ruin. And both Chabad and Kehillat Israel, a Reconstructionist synagogue in the Pacific Palisades that co-sponsored the event, had, miraculously, found the spark on an otherwise gloomy day.
Overlooking the street that had been blocked off for the event were vacant lots where homes had stood a year earlier. But melancholy was hard to come by as one walked through the teeming masses at the event. Kids sat for glitter tattoos and balloon animals; lines snaked for latkes and jelly donuts and hot chocolate, all free. Old friends exchanging long-overdue hugs could be heard saying I’m so sorry about your house. On stage before the candlelighting, a gaggle of youngsters delivered a spirited rendition of “I’m a little latke.”
“It’s almost like the Maccabees,” said Chayim Frenkel, Kehillat Israel’s longtime cantor. “They went into the Temple, cleaned it up, found the menorah, found the oil. And surrounded by the rubble of what the Greeks did, we brought light and hope.”
The Palisades Chabad members in attendance were putting on a doubly brave face: The fire had damaged part of the school on the campus of Chabad of Pacific Palisades, according to Rabbi Zushe Cunin, its director. Classes have still not returned to the building.
“It’s been hard,” Cunin said. “So much trauma, a lot of people have not resolved things, their house, their insurance, their struggles. But Hanukkah is a time to rise above that. Tonight is about strengthening our resolve.”
Cunin’s son, Mordechai, was among the group channeling that resolve through tefillin. The mitzvah — which is required only of Jewish men — was one the late Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the last Lubavitcher Rebbe, had implored his followers to promote in order to hasten the arrival of the Messiah. Mordechai and his yeshiva buddies reported having wrapped at least 10 men that day, including three first-time wearers.
It was not lost on the tefillin crew that Schlanger — whose nephew is Mordechai’s classmate — died doing what they were doing now — helping Jewish people from all walks of life connect to Judaism. But to Goldberg, that was only reason to lean in.
“When someone leaves this physical world, their soul is still there, but they can’t do mitzvos,” Goldberg said. “When we think of Rabbi Eli, we are his hands and feet. He can’t put on tefillin today — but we can put on tefillin for him.”
The post At Chabad Hanukkah party in California, hours after Bondi Beach massacre, joy defied grief’s shadow appeared first on The Forward.
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In the fight against K-12 antisemitism, we are grateful for allies – but are not afraid to call out antisemitism when we see it
Recent articles in the Forward spotlighted important conversations around combating K-12 antisemitism that took place at the Jewish Federations of North America’s General Assembly, but missed critical distinctions about our commitment to working with partners throughout the K-12 space and our stance on teachers’ unions. In particular, they ignored the distinction between the two largest teachers’ unions in the US – the National Education Association (NEA) and the American Federation of Teachers (AFT).
Federations throughout North America work closely with educators and educational leadership. We are grateful to the many educators committed to doing right by their students and by the Jewish community, and to our many allies in the education space – including the AFT, led by Randi Weingarten, and its New York affiliate, the UFT, which recently partnered with the Jewish Community Relations Council of New York on a curriculum and training about Jewish Americans.
We are committed to ensuring teachers have access to the content and knowledge they need to accurately educate about Jewish communities, Israel and antisemitism and to provide safe learning environments for Jewish students. Increasingly, however, we also see instances of organizations and individuals encouraging teachers to use materials and trainings that seek to disconnect educators from those positive resources, or worse, to provide resources that harm Jewish students and foster classroom antisemitism.
Some union spaces have become toxic even for Jewish teachers. The recent debate at the NEA’s Representative Assembly about boycotting the ADL, as well as a union resource guide linking to a third-party source erasing Israel off the map and sympathizing with the Holocaust, were shocking. We are grateful that NEA leadership vetoed the boycott resolution and apologized for the link, but we are reminded of the need for vigilance and organizing so that this type of resource is not recommended – even inadvertently – to educators. We stand ready to work with the NEA to help ensure that biased and ultimately harmful teaching materials are legitimized.
Both nationally and at the local level, Federations are proud of the educational partnerships that make our schools better and stronger. We are grateful every day to the educators who teach our children and seek out accurate information and ways to teach critical thinking that enable the foundation of our future democracy – and our safety within it. We are eager for additional partners and partnerships. But at the same time, we will not stand by when antisemitism is enabled in the classroom.
Our commitment is to promote policies and actions that enable Jewish children and teachers to be safe in school and take pride in their identity, and to ensure that Jewish identity, culture and resilience are celebrated and accurately taught.
The post In the fight against K-12 antisemitism, we are grateful for allies – but are not afraid to call out antisemitism when we see it appeared first on The Forward.
