This newsletter falls into two parts. In the first it is a carry over from the last edition which began stories relating to Yiddish and Hebrew. These stories are continued in this edition with reports of a Yiddish Summer school, a piece about how Yiddish language is in use today in Britain and America, and the Hebrew journey of our Community Chair, as well as report on Jewish-Christian Bible week.
Secondly, as this newsletter goes to press it is in the middle of the High Holyday season once again. This is a season of change, change in seasons from late summer to autumn, change in our thinking from summer breaks, to focussing on new tasks ahead, and as our resident squirrel does, preparing for the winter ahead. The Book Review gives a flavour of how this time might be spent in reflecting on our priorities.
It is also the time of our annual High Holyday Charity Appeal, for which we have already had a good start, and donation forms are attached to this newsletter. We have two very worthwhile causes, so we hope we can exceed our target once again.
In this edition: Chair Chat, Summer Reports: Bible Week; Ot Azoy, Yiddish language; Yiddish crossing the Atlantic; My Jewish Journey; Book Review; Visiting Other Communities.
CHAIR CHAT SEPTMEBER 2017
We were very sorry to hear of Hanna’s death in August. We knew that she had been seriously ill for some time but the news still came as a devastating shock. Hanna was a very active member of our group for the short time that she was with us and was very keen to get involved in all that we did. Her sister told me how much she appreciated being welcomed into our group while also continuing her membership of the Liberal Jewish Synagogue in London. She was buried at Willesden cemetery on August 27 and we will certainly remember her in our prayers over the High Holydays.
EREV ROSH HASHANAH
We had a wonderful Erev Rosh Hashanah evening hosted by Eva Mendelsson at her home in Ross on Wye. This was attended both by members of Eva’s family and friends, and also by some members of HJC, with a wide variety of ages present. HJC provided the Service and Shofar blowing, and Eva and her family provided a beautiful venue and a great selection of delicious food, which I think everyone enjoyed. We are very grateful for Eva for inviting us all to this evening, and for generously donating all the money collected for the evening from our members to the High Holyday appeal.
The gathering included Zvi, a friend of Eva’s who is also a Holocaust survivor , who now lives in New York, who told us how his experiences during the Holocaust, when he was still quite young, had led him to becoming an adult very early on, as sadly, he no longer had parents or family to support him.
SIMCHAT TORAH SERVICE.
We hope as many as possible will be able to come to the Simchat Torah service at the Bridges Centre in Monmouth on Saturday October 14 at 11 a.m. This is always a very enjoyable service with plenty of singing and dancing!
There’s a famous Jewish joke: “Waiter, this food is terrible,” says one Jewish diner. “Yes, and such small portions,” says the other. (Courtesy of “The Times”)
Bible Week, as ever, is for me a high point of the year – a stimulating and sometimes almost overwhelming experience, as 120 Jews and Christians from Germany, UK, Holland and Israel (and a few other places) gather at Haus Ohrbeck near Osnabruck for a week of instruction and lively discussion. We were people of all ages & stages of life, from toddlers upwards, young children, parents, teenagers, students, professors, rabbis, pastors, elders – and this year even a dying man in a wheelchair who didn’t feel that his advanced cancer was a reason to miss his regular attendance at Bible Week! Some have been coming on and off from its early days in Bendorf (next year will be its jubilee as it started in 1968) and others were there for the first time. The Hebrew text chosen as the subject for this year’s study was the Book of Proverbs, part of the Wisdom literature of the bible. This time we had as much fruitful fun with the text as we usually do!
The first lecture was given by Lindsay Taylor-Gutharz , who teaches at Oxford, and was titled, ‘Weaving the Web of Wisdom’. She ended by suggesting that the text of Mishlei is a bit like a cloth woven from different yarns, and structured through warp and weft into into a rich text/textile with diverse and fascinating patterns.(The tutor in my Hebrew group picked up this metaphor, saying how aptly it describes the character of Hebrew poetry). Lindsay, and her husband Norm who came with her, are an Orthodox couple (most Jews in Bible Week are Reform or Liberal) and in the question time, someone asked her if they were in the habit of chanting the text of the eshet chayil (the ‘Woman of Valour’ Proverbs 31:10-31) at their family shabbat celebration. She said yes they did – together with hand gestures to help engage the kids! It seems that they are Orthodox couple with a difference, because although (I suspect) she is the main breadwinner as in many Orthodox families, she is also the main scholar. But as she told us, Norm, though he’s worked as a teacher and a journalist, does more than his fair share of the housework and childcare. To general amusement, she recounted an anecdote in which, on returning from her Orthodox women’s feminist group one day, she was holding forth in the kitchen on the injustices endured by women in patriarchal society, while Norm was quietly mopping the floor around her feet! By the end of Bible Week, Norm had acquired a reputation as a new model ish chayil (man of valour)!
One of the other keynote speeches was given by Sr. Nazak Matty, a young Dominican sister from Iraq. She was introduced by liberal Rabbi James Baaden, one of the Bible Week team, who had been responsible for inviting her to speak to us and arranging it despite difficulties. The two of them had met a few years ago in a student residence in North Oxford when both were there doing an MA, and seemed to be good friends!. I spoke to her at breakfast and discovered that she had done most of her research in Blackfriars library, and knew several of the Dominicans whom I also remember. After completing her course, she opted to go back to her congregation which is located in Nineveh near Mosul. Here in 2014, they were bombed, driven into exile and the convent razed to the ground by ISIS. Though Mosul has since been recaptured, the sisters remain in exile in Kurdistan, and her lecture, entitled ‘For the Lord will be Your confidence’ (Prov. 3.26) gave a poignant account of how the sisters are struggling to find a language to express their sense of loss, betrayal and radical disorientation resulting from their catastrophe as, on a greater scale, Jews had to do 70 years before.
The morning study groups explore the text togther as usual and ours worked very well, with excellent resource persons and facilitator – no big clashes or over-zealous talkers. With a good translation (like the Jewish Study Bible) some parts of Proverbs have quite a modern feel to them – like the warning to young men about joining violent gangs, or against ‘scoffers’ which could be the ancient equivalent of the male ‘banter’ culture that has recently become popular in some quarters. But we also enjoyed the vision of Wisdom playing before God at the beginning of creation: and the scenario of Lady Wisdom and Lady Folly setting out their rival stalls. Their wares at times seemed to be a trifle similar… One could not help but wonder if Wisdom could really offer riches, honour, success and long life, why would anyone choose Folly? If as she claims, ‘Through me Kings reign and rulers decree just laws’ (Prov. 8.15) was she perhaps over-egging the pudding? How come then that world rulers, like Trump have fallen into the arms of Dame Folly? And as several of our European colleagues commiserated with the UK party over Brexit, I wondered how she had managed to lure so many its architects into her camp.
And yet, after this week of joyful immersion in Hebrew scripture, I come away with the feeling that, if somehow we can continue to cultivate wisely its resources in the Bible Week manner, it may even be possible to re-grow a European culture that is capable of avoiding the calamity of the old.
Ot Azoy Yiddish and Golden Peacock Song School – JMI August 2017
Cherry and I attended the Jewish Music Institute (JMI) one week Summer School in August.
As the title may tell, this was quite a full week, combining an intensive 6 day Yiddish language course held in the mornings, with an intensive song school and choir in the afternoons – although for this, I took more of a back seat, as I am far from being a performer/singer in the way that Cherry is. However , both groups were fascinating to be part of, and I certainly learned a good deal in the language classes, and learned some beautiful melodies in the Song sessions. If that wasn’t enough there were also lectures and films in the evenings, but being off campus, we were only able to attend one of these (on the Yiddish poet/writer Avrom Sutzgever (who is well worth looking up if you are interested in Jewish/Yiddish history. He was one of the very few Yiddish writers to have been published in Yiddish in Israel) plus an East End walk on the final evening.
The theme of the Song school was positivism in the face of adversity, in other words how to be positive in the fact of difficulties in the world we live in. This was clearly mirrored by songs which dealt with difficult struggles in the past, recorded in Yiddish – for example, songs of workers’ struggles, as well as songs of loss and yearning. The repertoire also included a Yiddish protest song written in New York in 2010 in relation to the recent Occupy movement about the over-weaning power of Wall street and the super rich. Whatever your ideas, there is a far wider variety of Yiddish songs than you can possibly imagine, as well as translations into Yiddish from other popular songs.
This was the first year that the Jewish Music Institute (JMI) had run all four of its courses simultaneously under one roof (SOAS main building near Russel Square, London). This was a mammoth undertaking and was not without some hiccups. However, it did allow for a lot of overlaps and combinations between the different groups, culminating in a Thursday evening performance in which each of the four schools (language/song/klezmer music and dance) contributed items they had worked on over the week.
I was in the beginners group (Cherry was in Level 2). As you may see from the article on Yiddish in the last newsletter, Yiddish has strong links with German (about 70% of vocabulary and much of the grammar), as well as Hebrew /Aramaic (about 20%) and a smaller percentage of Slavic language influence, plus a little of the Romance languages. Yiddish is written in the Hebrew alphabet, but has several phonetic differences, so while it helps to have a knowledge of Hebrew alphabet, you still need to learn the rules of Yiddish. Similarly, for those who know German, it is dangerous to think you can follow Yiddish as there are some key differences, especially over grammar as well as vocabulary. The Hebrew language element is largely for those items relating to an aspect of Jewish culture or practice, often relating to Torah, but also includes some everyday words (such as direh for flat) and also linking words such as efsher (possibly).
Teaching is excellent, with one teacher being an absolute stickler for attention. On the last day we played a game to test our knowledge of Yiddish numbers (where you have to say Buzz for numbers containing 3’s and 7’s , or multiples of). If you made a mistake you were mercilessly taken out of the game, but it was great fun. We had previously done some Yiddish arithmetic which was in itself challenging, as you had say the numbers and four rules signs in Yiddish, as well as finding the correct answer. Our other teacher, Lily prattled on at us in Yiddish at the start of each lesson, and you had to pick up as best you could, but there was lots of repetition and practice. We had a good group of about 20 students, but there was one particularly annoying character, (who I often seemed to end up in conversation with) who insisted on using his Hebrew and smattering of German, in conversations, even though we had been expressly forbidden to use any other languages, and was continually going off topic. Well it wouldn’t be a Yiddish class if there wasn’t something to kvetch about.
As for the song element, apart from the choir and whole group music sessions, one of the fascinating elements of the course was the master classes held each afternoon. This gave an opportunity for budding singers and also experienced performers to try out their songs in front of an audience, and get feedback from the Song school tutors – rather like the feedback dancers get in ‘Strictly…’ – for those who indulge in that programme. This was informative not only to the performers themselves, but also to onlookers like myself, who could then get a sense of what makes a good performance. The truth of this is that is very individual according to the singer and their choice of song, but one common rule of thumb is to under-perform rather than over-perform – that is, to get to the heart of the song, and feel it for yourself, rather than being focussed all the time on the audience.
Polina Shepherd and Song School
The week is certainly intensive, but at the same time extremely supportive, and you do not need to have any experience of Yiddish, or necessarily of song, to be able to take part. The challenge as with any course is to how to follow it up, when you live in a small community with few fluent Yiddish speakers (I am making an assumption here). There are online materials and we have a couple of good books from the course, and we hope to have occasional meetings with a relatively local Yiddish speaker.
This article first appeared in the Jewish Chronicle’s Rosh Hashanah magazine. Matthew Engel is a member of HJC and lives with his family in the Golden Valley.
In 1988 The Guardian newspaper, my then employers, decided to have a redesign and a relaunch, as newspapers do when they are going through a sticky patch.
It was accompanied by a poster campaign which used a series of phrases that were supposed to convey the paper’s distinctive virtues. One of these was irreverence: we were cheekier and less stuffy than our rivals at the posh end of the market. So one of these posters said simply: “The chutzpah“.
The ad agency may have been a bit too clever for its clients’ good. In Northampton – where I grew up – a baffled Guardian-reading friend said to me “What’s a chutzpah?”, pronouncing the ch- as in church. This question is famously difficult to answer without resorting to the old gag about the boy who murders his parents and cries for mercy because he’s an orphan.
Anyway, not much Yiddish was being spoken in Northampton by the late 1980s, as the generation who might have hakked the odd chainik in shul on Yom Kippur began to die off. And the Yiddish words that slipped easily into American English in Victorian times have struggled to make it to this side of the Atlantic.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately while researching my latest book*, which is a history of the way American vocabulary has travelled to Britain – and a cry for help about what was once an gentle incoming tide and has now turned into a tsunami.
In the early 19th century the British began using American words because they were often apt and snappy, and this did a great deal to enliven a language which was becoming as tight-laced as the society itself. Come the 21st century, with Hollywood, TV and the internet constantly sending the American language across the globe, this is no longer an import-export business but a rampaging takeover.
Yiddishisms — and Jewishisms, which are not quite the same thing — have played a significant role in the development of the American language. But they have been only minor components of the export trade. Yiddish in Britain, according to Leonard Prager, is not measurable but detectable “like a trace element”.
He wrote in his 1990 book Yiddish Culture in Britain: “It may assert itself as a cadence of speech of a taxi-driver, a hand gesture in the conversation of a diamond merchant, a metaphor in the verbal repertoire of a publicist… barely perceptible except when it comes from a newly-imported word from America.” And when the words do pass into British English, they tend to come in because they are already American, not directly from Jewish usage.
Why? Well, Anglo-Jewry has always been more heads-down than its US counterpart; the Jewish component of London never matched New York’s; and Jewish cuisine and humour never had the same impact here as there. The linguistic scholar Sol Steinmetz said the only Yiddish word to become embedded in British English was nosh – and even then it subtly changed its meaning in Britain, conveying a meal rather than a snack (though part of the British Americanisation process is eating more snacks than meals).
And sometimes even when we think we’re using Yiddishisms, we’re not. At Carmel College, my Jewish boarding school in the 1960s, cod-Yiddish played a major part in our slanguage, and the most common phrase (anatomical insults excepted) was probably in shtook = trouble. We pronounced it, as we thought correctly, as shtooch – as in chutzpah.
It seems we were wrong, along with many other people; even the Oxford English Dictionary shrugs its shoulders as to the word’s origin, except to say it isn’t Yiddish. It may be that it isn’t even American and could be a rare example of Jewish Cockney. So might shemozzle, which Leo Rosten attributed to British bookmakers.
On the other hand, shtook‘s sound-alike, shtik, as a stage routine, does seem to be Yiddish and is now used in the UK, at least in theatrical circles. And bagels are now eaten across Britain, though outside London they are usually mass-produced in a factory in Yorkshire and heaven only knows where you can find fresh cream cheese.
There are more examples of Jewishisms, which may or may not have their origins in Yiddish expressions but which certainly fit with the speech patterns of Yiddish-speakers who learned English as a second language. Big deal! as an all-purpose expression of contempt may have been popularised by Jack Benny’s wartime radio show.
Eat your heart out!, Enjoy!, (I need that like a) hole in the head and Tell me about it! may all come into the same category – along with for free, one of the phrases that get right up the noses of all right-thinking Britons over 50, though maybe not if their first language is Yiddish. Listen, as a way of enforcing attention at the start of a sentence, is another candidate. And OK by me.
Directly from Yiddish, glitch has now more it into Britain’s vocabulary. And on the edges lurk the Yiddish K-twins, klutz and kibbitz along with shlep, spiel and shtum. And nebbish.
These are comparatively thin pickings when set against the mass takeover of the world’s vocabulary by American usages. The selective use of foreign words is a sign of a healthy language. But to me this total reversal of Babel is a long-term catastrophe, a cultural variant of climate change, destroying the delicate balance of the planet’s intellectual resources.
For this is far from being just a British problem; it affects countries with their own languages (poor old France, oy-yoy-yoy) even more acutely. However, I suspect the epicentre of this disaster might be found in the cafes frequented by teenage girls in North-West London. “Hey guys!” “I was like, yeah!” “OMG!” “Don’t even go there!””Whatever!”
Please help me do something about this. Then maybe I can use one of the few Hebrew words that has passed into English, lately given fresh life by the Buddhist-Jewish genius Leonard Cohen. Hallelujah!
*That’s the Way It Crumbles: The American Conquest of English by Matthew Engel (Profile Books)
MY JEWISH JOURNEY – Mark Walton
My grandparents all emanated from the Pale of Settlement in Russian occupied Poland, escaping from the pogroms and forced conscription into the Russian army at the turn of the century. They settled, as with previous and succeeding waves of immigrants, in London’s East End: one grandfather was a tailor, helping to make uniforms for the British army, the other ran an “open all hours” sweet shop and tobacconist. Neither family were particularly observant although my paternal grandmother originated from a rabbinic family. My mother suffered T.B. as a child and was sent to Margate where she spent seven years in an isolation hospital* and my father worked in the “shmutter” (aka drapery) business, aspiring eventually to open his own shop while also working the markets twice a week. It was a hard life and one I was determined not to follow. The family moved away from the East End along the Northern line to Highgate, where a new Jewish colony was established with related families buying houses in the same street. As a matter of course my parents were members of the local shul but, as they both worked for six days a week, my father was a three days a year attender and my mother only appeared on social occasions.
My own Jewish journey began in the gloomy underground depths of the Highgate District Synagogue** in Archway Road, North London, where Mr and Mrs Looms (equally gloomy), the resident caretakers, would provide the children with jam sandwiches and tea before starting cheder lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays straight after school. This was supplemented by a Sunday morning session and attendance at the children’s service on Saturday mornings. We actually had four classes at cheder, ending up in the top class with the late lamented Rabbi Emil Nemeth aka ‘Nobs’. Our main activity in this class was to goad the poor man into a state of hysterical anger by such pranks as hiding in the toilets, the cupboards or any other suitable orifice. Our anthem was “Ma’otzur ye shoo otsee, the cat’s in the cupboard and ‘Nobs’ can’t see” which, for some reason, we all thought was hilarious and now, of course, I feel terribly guilty about for all the harassing of this eminently gentle, kind and learned man. As a by product of all this, yes, I did learn to be able to read Hebrew (without being able to speak it), recite common prayers (without understanding what they meant) and prepare for my barmitzvah. Rabbi Nemeth kindly recorded my “muftir and haftarah” on a tape recorder (which I somehow managed to erase) and prepared me for my barmitzvah test at Woburn House (do people still have to go through this ordeal?). My barmitzvah passed by in a whirl (I can’t even remember what portion I read) and then ….. nothing. No post barmitzvah classes, no regular shul attendance, apart from the High Holydays when my peer group would spend the minimum amount of time in the service and the maximum amount of time downstairs in the hall or performing the annual Yom Kippur circular pilgrimage between Highgate, Muswell Hill, Norrice Lea and, yea, even unto Kinloss Gardens shuls.
At the time, I never questioned the why and wherefores of this and am actually grateful that it gave me a reasonably thorough grounding in my religion, even if I was to reject it for a long period in my life. I attended a Church of England primary school where there were very few Jewish children and then progressed to William Ellis School in North London, where we made up approximately 25% of the school population and had three Jewish assemblies a day. I still clearly identified with this group and most of my close friends were Jewish, reinforced by attendance at the Highgate and Muswell Hill, Woodside Park, and Finchley Jewish youth clubs as well as various Habonim groups.
My big move away from this environment came on leaving school when I did a year’s VSO in the (then) British Solomon Islands before going to York University. A small group of my ex school friends (all mostly coincidentally Jewish) joined me at York but I never even considered joining the Jewish society or taking part in any form of organised religion. After university and marrying Mary, we spent two years teaching in Sierra Leone before finally settling down and raising a family in the Forest of Dean. I am just beginning to understand how supporting her in bringing up our children in a religious faith has helped keep alive aspects of my own early grounding. Mary, whose Catholicism is rooted in the Hebrew scriptures, was always very keen for me to pass on my Jewish heritage to them but I was reluctant to do this in view of my own lack of commitment. So what precipitated the change? Primarily, visits to Prague and Krakow where I found still active Jewish communities despite everything that those people had gone through. The fact that there was this element of continuity made me feel my heritage was important and that I should no longer reject it, even if I did not necessarily believe in God (or G-d, as I was taught to write it to the mystification of my primary school teachers). Secondly, the discovery of Liberal Judaism. This was an unknown (and would undoubtedly have been considered to be an alien) concept when I was growing up. You were either “United Synagogue” (ie.mainstream orthodox, however unobservant one might actually be) or “froomies” (whom we would now call “charedi” or ultra-orthodox). No other alternatives presented themselves. So it was a revelation to me when I attended a service in Hereford led by Rabbi Aaron Goldstein which was relatively short, accompanied by the guitar, was conducted as much in English as in Hebrew, which people listened to and took part, and was actually enjoyable and made sense. That’s how I ended up here, much to the amazement of my dear late mother who warned me, “Never join a synagogue, they will only want your money”. So thank you Aaron, Anna and all the other liberal rabbis who have helped me back into my religion. And thank you HJC (and particularly Josephine, Andrea, Julian and Cherry) for providing a base for my further understanding and development of Judaism. I just wish I could now put things right with Rabbi Nemeth.
*Read Linda Grant’s “The Dark Circle” for a graphic account of the treatment methods used in these sanatoria, before the availability of streptomycin.
**This building is now a Hindu temple as many of the Jewish families have moved further along the Northern line to Hendon, Golders Green and Edgware or leapfrogged these altogether to the newer pastures of Bushey, Borehamwood, Radlett and Elstree. My own family only eventually made it as far as the less affluent Mill Hill East. There is now a smaller synagogue in Highgate, serving mainly the young professionals who have moved into the area.
Mark Walton September 2017.
Are you visiting other Communities?
As members of Herefordshire Jewish Community, any of us would be welcomed by any other congregation within Liberal Judaism. There is a simple searchable map on the website of Liberal Judaism, at http://www.liberaljudaism.org/where-we-are/communities/ This has contact details for each community, so you can get in touch. Many of them like notice of any visitors for security reasons, so please do contact them in advance of your visit if at all possible and/or take ID with you.
Liberal Judaism has 40 communities, and three additional developing/affiliated congregations, covering all parts of England, as well as in Scotland, the Republic of Ireland, Holland and Denmark. Click here for a list. Liberal Judaism’s communities are vibrant, diverse and democratic, offering a meaningful and spiritual Jewish experience in the 21st Century. Above all else, they are welcoming and inclusive.
Details about visiting for High Holydays were sent out in a previous email.
Book review by Alison Turner
God’s to-do list : 103 ways to be an angel and do God’s work on earth by Dr. Ron Wolfson, Jewish Lights Publishing, 2007.
I have been very fond of Jewish Lights publishing for many years and I have been called an angel a couple of times in my life, so I was attracted to this book by the title and I was not disappointed. We are asked to consider if God was writing a to-do list for each of us, bearing in mind our own unique skills, life experiences and talents that can be used to make a difference in the world, what would be on it? This is based on the Biblical teaching that we are all made in the image of God and have a spark of divinity within us. We are here for a purpose, which is to do God’s work, the tasks God has for us, as God’s partners on earth. Before you protest that such things may be beyond your abilities and powers, consider that there are many small things that make the world a better place, like volunteering our time, reading to a child, visiting sick people, or blessing our food, which we can do. Many of us probably do quite a few of these things already.
Dr Wolfson takes 10 ways in which God has acted in relationship to human beings, and suggests we too can act like God does, in order to play our part in repairing the world. The actions are to create, bless, rest, call, comfort, care, repair, wrestle, give and forgive. These are all acts within our everyday lives, and each chapter has 10 suggestions for ways in which we can do these things, plus a bonus 3 at the end. This is a workbook to be done, not just another book to read. You will be guided to create your very own to-do list after reading the book and to carry it out. I thought I am far too busy a person for this, and put it aside for a long time, but once I picked it up I found it very accessible, friendly and above all a practical guidebook to how I can help God and everyone else repair the world. As we take part in the High Holy Days, this is an excellent book to read.
High Holydays Appeal
Details of our High Holyday Appeal, and Donation forms are attached to this newsletter. We already have a wonderful start of almost £100 raised through our Rosh Hashanah Service and meal. Our charities this year are the Hereford Hospital Special Care Baby Unit and The Sir Charles Clore Community Centre, Acco, Israel, both very worthwhile causes.
London Klezmer Quartet Concert, Savoy Theatre, Monmouth Friday 13th October 7.30 p.m. (tickets £15 from Savoy Theatre Monmouth, http://www.monmouth-savoy.co.uk/theatre/)
Next HJC meeting: Simchat Torah Service at Bridges Centre, Saturday 14th October 2017 11a.m. led by Rabbi Anna Gerrard.
Please see diary below for more HJC events.
Limmud Conference / Festival 24 – 28 December 2017 Pendigo Lake, Birmingham.
Limmud Conference is now renamed Limmud Festival and is the biggest celebration of Jewish learning and culture in the UK Jewish calendar, bringing in Jews, and some non-Jews, from a wide variety of backgrounds. Details from: https://limmud.org/festival/
Deadline for next newsletter will be 22nd November 2017. If you miss this date, I cannot guarantee your contribution will be included.
Please send in contributions in WORD or pdf format if possible, but articles sent in by post are also welcome. In general, contributions should be no longer than 500 – 750 words, but longer contributions may be included, if appropriate. Pictures also welcome, but please try to keep image sizes small and below 250 KB for newsletter inclusion. All contributions are welcome but depending on format and content, the editor reserves the right to edit or hold over to a future edition if needed.
Herefordshire Jewish Community Contacts
|Membership and Welfare||Chair|
Tel: 01594 530721 (after 6pm or at weekends)
|Treasurer||Newsletter Editor /Membership|
|Learning Circle Coordinator / Web Manager and Archivist||Cultural Coordinator|
|Alison Turner||Ann Levy|
HJC services and other Events
|Friday 13th October||London Klezmer Quartet Concert||
Savoy Theatre, Church Street
|Saturday 14th October||Simchat Torah Service||
Bridges Centre, Monmouth NP25 5AS
|Saturday 4th November||Shabbat Service led by Cherry & Julian||
Colwall Ale House, Mill Lane, Colwall, WR13 6HJ
|Saturday 16th December||Chanukah Party with Rabbi Anna Gerrard||
3 p.m. t.b.c.
Saxon Hall, Hoarwithy Road, Hereford HR2 6HE
|Saturday 27th January 2018||HJC Holocaust Memorial Day service with Rabbi Danny Rich||
|Sunday 28th January||‘Ushperin’ Hair cutting ceremony for Isaac Turner with Rabbi Danny Rich||
HJC Charity High Holyday Appeal 2017/5778
Our two charities for this year are:
Wye Valley NHS Special Care Baby unit, based in Hereford Hospital which looks after pre-term and newborn infants who are sick. https://www.wyevalley.nhs.uk/visitors-and-patients/county-hospital-(acute)/a-z-of-wards/scbu-(special-care-baby-unit).aspx
and Sir Charles Clore Jewish Arab Community Centre, Acco which runs a range of activities from ballet, to sport, music and summer camps for children in this Jewish/Arab area of Israel.
Our target this year is £300, split equally between our two charities. Last year we raised a record £400 for our two charities, so if we can beat that this year, that would be wonderful.
If you wish to donate, please email firstname.lastname@example.org or ring Mark Walton on 01594 530721 (after 6pm or weekends only) for a donation form.