"They stole it from us."

8 Sivan 5779.

For Goldie. May you be comforted.

Reb Velvel Pasternak, zt"l. Photo credit: Naava Pasternak Swirsky

Oh, man.

I hurt every time light and music leave the world.

In 1986 or so, the Dearly Beloved and I began to become enmeshed in All Things Jewish.

We didn't know where this would lead us — but we were entranced. Part of what grabbed us was the music. And the humor. And the love of culture, old and new.

One friend gave us books to help us on our path toward understanding. Another gave us cassette tapes. (Remember those?) One of the most precious was a lecture by Velvel Pasternak about the origins and history of Hasidic music. I think I listened to it a hundred times. His humor and his love of all things Jewish made Reb Velvel's class a lot deeper than "bidee-bum-bidee-bee." I fell in love with the music of my European ancestors, and felt as if I had a door into my people's culture. Spouting bits of wisdom from Reb Velvel's lecture made me sound as if I understood a little about Jewish music, and that gave me a foot in the door...

I remember our wonder when Reb Velvel taught about music that was "rescued" from non-Jewish sources, music discovered floating outside the windows of churches and taverns, that later found expression in holy Jewish niggunim. (You think we invented "Maoz Tzur," right? It came from "Rock of Ages," a very not-Jewish hymn. Some Jewish farmer was walking past a church after plowing his field, and suddenly, a lovely tune filled his mind and soul. All he had to do was put words to the music in his heart...)

"If it's used in a Jewish way, it becomes Jewish," Reb Velvel intoned. And how we laughed when he quoted an elderly Jewish man regarding the tune of a niggun which proved to have a non-Jewish source: "Don't vorry. Zeh stole it from uns."

Years later, after a few more wonderful teachers and much blessing, my family and I were able to make aliyah as full-fledged members of the Jewish tribe.

Ruti and Shira. Photo credit: a kind Israeli passerby

The passion I had since childhood found expression at last: a word-person without any particularly grand ideas of her own finally had What To Say, thanks to the holy land of Israel. And I found other writers who shared my vision about this precious land and its people, and we became friends...

And one of those friends was the daughter of Reb Velvel — because God loves to put people's hearts together.

Shira Pasternak Be'eri is one of the people I consider to be a gift to the Jewish family. Like her dear father, her heart swells and beats and dances for the Jewish people. She takes such pride in encouraging and teaching. She is known in the J-Blogosphere as the Fairy Blog Mother. Even when she has been going through the loss of her father — for such loss never happens overnight, in an eyeblink — she has continued to pop up in our writers' community, encouraging a writer who is just starting out, teaching another about the ins-and-outs of publishing, reminding the "old hands" to read the stuff of newcomers and to comment, to keep the fire burning...

Just like her dad.

May those who know continue to teach and encourage.

May those who are privileged to learn remember the source of their wisdom.

Thank you, Reb Velvel, for all the gifts you have added to the world of music, of writing, of ahavat Yisrael. May you rest in peace.

Playing with the Grave Issue of Conversion Annulment

7 Sivan 5779.

It's unusual for a play to keep me from sleeping well. But I was in for one of those patented tossing-and-turning nights after watching Miriam Metzinger's play at Jerusalem's Khan Theater a few days before Shavuot.

Directed by Yael Valier as part of her debate-provoking Theater and Theology series, In a Stranger's Grave strikes very close to home for me. Two religious Jewish sisters prepare for the funeral of their mother in Israel, only to receive the shocking news that the burial society will not allow her to be buried in the Jewish section of the cemetery next to her husband. Their once-pious mother had discarded Jewish observance after the death of her husband, resulting in the rabbinical court questioning her original commitment at the time of her conversion to Judaism decades before.

When my husband and I converted to Judaism in 1989, we were deeply touched by Frankfurt's Chief Rabbi's words just prior to our immersions in the mikvaot: "What was before no longer is. Once you go through this process, there is no undoing it. If chas v'shalom you would decide not to live as Jews, you would still be Jews, and would have to answer to God for failing to live up to your responsibilities." He said these words as a "last chance" for us to change our minds. But what resonated for us was "once a Jew, always a Jew," and with that privilege came responsibility. We understood that our Jew-ness could never be taken away.

In 2008, our world shifted tectonically. The unprecedented annulment of conversions that had been supervised by Rabbi Hayyim Druckman changed the lives of some of our friends, and created a ripple effect causing converts everywhere to doubt the security of their status within the Jewish family.

Throughout the following decade, we were personally affected by the Rabbinate's hesitation to accept conversions as valid which had been performed outside Israel. Were it not for the extraordinary efforts of our yishuv Rav in advocating on our behalf, not one of our four sons would have been permitted to have a kosher wedding in Israel.

Metzinger's play fairly addresses many questions. In the words of Yael Valier: "Can anyone but the convert judge the sincerity of her conversion? Can Jewish status be annulled? Can the pain of the individual ever trump the needs of the community? Must a society take risks that could lead to the erosion of its own values?"

The play's characters struggle with these questions, and the audience feels them, along with the conflicting and shifting loyalties toward and between the sisters, portrayed by Devorah Leah Jaffe and Avital Macales. Macales plays Esther, the central figure in the drama, whose sanity threatens to desert her under the weight of this life-altering emotional earthquake. Jaffe plays her sister Chana, struggling to keep her family together, even as she and Esther face the reality that it is not only their mother's Jewish status that is in question...

As a convert, I found all my anxieties welling to the surface, as the debate raged on stage. I tried to be fair to the rabbi representing the burial society. Played by Howard Metz, the rabbi's concerns for the larger Jewish community were deftly but compassionately expressed. Bakol Ruben Gellar, Charles B. Davies, Mordechai Buxner and Syma Davidovich all played the roles of friends, family and colleagues whose loyalty to the two sisters fluctuates sadly and believably throughout the story. (I joked with these actors after the play that it was good there was a question-and-answer period following their performance, because it gave me a chance to get over being mad at them.) Our hero is Rabbi Aaron, played by David Golinkin. In essence "playing himself," as Valier pointed out, Rabbi Golinkin argues passionately on behalf of the inviolability of conversions, bringing many textual proofs to support his position. Happily, the play is allowed lighter moments through Aharon Naiman's characterization of a police officer, during humorous and tender moments with the volatile Esther.

After the play, there was a discussion between Valier and Rabbi Dr. Natan Lopes Cardozo, himself a convert. Their discussion and the audience's questions touched on the personal as well as the larger Jewish community's needs. Not surprisingly, a large part of the discussion centered on whether the needs of the Jewish community are being met by the rulings of Israel's Chief Rabbinate.

I hope that the discussion will continue well beyond the drama depicted on stage in In a Stranger's Grave. It is an important discussion with far-reaching ramifications. This is not an easy play to watch, but I strongly recommend you take the chance of a sleepless night. Our Jewish family — our greater Jewish family — needs to address the questions Miriam Metzinger's story so adroitly presents.

In a Stranger's Grave is sold out! To be put on a first-to-know list in advance of our fall run, you are encouraged to send an email to Contact@TheaterAndTheology.com.

Photo credit: Yael Valier