“Who’s behind this chaos?” reads one. Another says, “Did you miss your flight when this airport was shut down by an anti-Israel mob?”

Three billboards were put up in Los Angeles during the last week of July, and two in Philadelphia were erected the first week of August. Both are scheduled to stay in place through most of the month.

The nonprofit US Forum for Israel is funding the bicoastal signage with support from the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism and Policy, or ISGAP, also a nonprofit. The two entities coined the term the “Hate Brigade,” which appears on the billboards.

Charles Asher Small, executive director of ISGAP, says the message is to stand up for the nation’s values. “We are trying to raise awareness and bring attention to who’s behind the chaos—the anti-Democratic and hate-filled chaos,” he told JNS. “These are very un-American things.”

He said anti-American forces have spilled from the college classroom to tent encampments and onto the streets—and that’s where the message needs to be sounded.

The Pennsylvania signs rise above the Vine Street Expressway, a major east-west thoroughfare that was part of the city’s original street plan laid out in 1682 by William Penn and Thomas Holme. More than 100,000 vehicles travel the expressway daily, according to a Dec. 19 report issued by the City of Philadelphia.

The California billboards stand in prominent locations outside of the Los Angeles International Airport, which was shut down last year by anti-Israel protests associated with Israel’s war with Hamas in Gaza following the terrorist attacks in southern Israel on Oct. 7.

The airport was ranked in 2022 as the sixth busiest in the world for passenger traffic.

To read more content visit www.jns.org

And for Sar-El, which partners in the United States with Volunteers for Israel.

Maas has become a celebrity of sorts for the program, which positions Jews from abroad on Israeli military bases around the country for two- and three-week stints. The ages of participants range considerably—from teens to, well, Maas. At 92, she has completed the program 16 times—not the most of any volunteer, she acknowledges, but certainly something noteworthy.

The organization had its beginnings in 1982 during the war with Lebanon, when as a result, farms in Israel’s north were short-handed, and Jews overseas were asked to help. A year later, Sar-El—the Hebrew acronym meaning “Service for Israel”—was founded as a nonpolitical, nonprofit entity. Since then, more than 160,000 volunteers have provided logistical support to the IDF, according to the nonprofit’s website.

And so, Maas treks from her home in Rochester, N.Y., and flies to Ben-Gurion International Airport, where she meets the rest of the group and the guide, and makes her way to a basis, a “base.” Once there, she is given an olive-green uniform (she chooses to wear sneakers rather than requisite boots), a bed in the barracks and meals in the mess hall. She says she’s never jet-lagged; she has traveled the world plenty and once at her destination is “excited to be there, ready to go,” and in this case, “do whatever needs done.”

That can mean organizing clothing or office materials, cleaning tanks and equipment, or, her favorite activity, packing medical supplies. Being on her feet all day isn’t a problem—“I don’t do well sitting down; it’s better when I move.” More than that, she insists, “it’s wonderful to find purposeful activities that benefit people and gratify the doer.”

She amends that sentence a bit: “It’s not about what you do but why you are doing it. You are there to relieve a soldier or army personnel. It’s grunt work. It’s not a vacation; it’s a life experience. But what can be better than serving in the Israel Defense Forces?”

There are those who might quibble with such a statement, but Maas doesn’t say this lightly. She was born and raised in Frankfurt, Germany—that is, until she was 10. In 1941, the situation had become dire for Jews. She and about 50 “unaccompanied children” were shuttled out of the country, where she spent a year-and-a-half in Belgium and France before being reunited with her younger brother (something she insisted on, she says, before leaving Europe). Along with others, they boarded a ship for the United States in 1941, sailing to Lisbon and then New York in a trip that took two weeks.

Maas was sent to Rochester and placed with a foster family. She went to school there, grew up there, got married there, raised four children there and, just recently, sold her townhouse and moved to an independent Jewish living community there. These days, she is also a grandmother of 12 and great-grandmother four times over, with a fifth on the way.

Still, “I am a Holocaust kid,” she states matter-of-factly.

Her mother didn’t survive. Her father was liberated from Buchenwald and eventually went to Palestine, where they had family. In 1946, he came to Rochester to see her and her brother, and, so as not to uproot them, went back and forth representing a publishing house in what would become modern-day Israel in 1948.

“It’s purposeful volunteerism”

When Maas was winding down her career, she says she wanted to do something meaningful. She had been to Israel before—first as a teenager as early as 1949. Other trips followed over the years, including a Hadassah mission and visits to her father. But as much as she enjoyed touring the country, she needed more.

Her first stint with Sar-El was in 2007 in the Negev Desert, cleaning equipment. The medical bases followed, where she would check expiration dates on supply kits and rotate equipment. Her most recent trip, No. 16, was in March.

“In retirement, everyone has a different way of enjoying their years,” she says. “For me, it’s purposeful volunteerism.”

She notes that she gets much in return—the commanders and soldiers thank her and the other volunteers profusely, and she meets an array of individuals in every group. Classes in Jewish and Israeli knowledge are offered in the evenings, as are other activities. Sometimes, that includes celebrating a holiday. Shabbat provides some free time off the base, when she gets to be with family as well as take in a little sightseeing.

As for the food? “It’s very edible,” she replies. “Nobody loses a lot of weight on the trip.”

Maas volunteers in Rochester, too—at a Jewish day school, with Jewish Family Services and the Jewish Community Center, during Israel Independence Week, and, this year, serving as an usher in theaters. Over the years, she has also started speaking to students about her life.

Where does she get the energy? “It’s inherited.”

Why Israel, time and again? “It’s remarkable. It’s innovative. It gives me pride and reinforces my Jewish identity.”

Is she wrapping up her army days? “No, I’m not done.”

While Maas doesn’t explicitly encourage others to sign up for Sar-El, she does make it a point to say “it is essential that we support Israel. We need Israel.”

And then, with words survivors express so lucidly: “We never, ever know when history might repeat itself. The Holocaust was not the first time that Jews were discriminated against and driven out. We were modern, Orthodox Jews living in a beautiful apartment in Frankfurt. My father was a business owner. By the time we realized what was happening and he had the papers to leave, it was too late.”

To read more content visit www.jns.org

The annual Shabbat 1800 dinner went off without a hitch at Binghamton University in New York state, uniting a diverse group of college students (with some faculty members sprinkled throughout room), as it has been doing for a quarter-century. In fact, it has held the national record for gathering the most Jewish students in one place for a Shabbat meal and celebration. But this year topped them all with a total number of 1,850 participants.

To date, more than 50 college campuses throughout North America and abroad have replicated this Shabbat-dinner model—running from Berkeley to Boston, and along the length of Canada; as well as in Argentina, Israel and the Netherlands—since its inception at BU in 1994.

Joshua Udler was present at that very first dinner, as he was at this 25th anniversary event, accompanied by his wife and fellow alum, Jennifer.

“It was a phenomenal experience—just to see the sheer growth of the event and the appeal to such a large Jewish community,” said the 44-year-old father of three, a renewable-energy attorney who lives in Maryland. A 1996 graduate, he said he recently visited with his teenage son, who is considering applying to the school.

“I see it all on a much grander scale now,” said Udler of both the university and the Shabbat dinner. “There are so many different observance levels there. It was all very humbling.”

When he attended, he served as student president of the campus Chabad center, led by Rabbi Aaron and Rivkah Slonim, and helped plan that first dinner, which has always been free of charge for students.

“Spirituality is a journey”

“The program, originally named Shabbat 1000, was conceived by the Rohr Chabad Center for Jewish Student Life in Binghamton in 1994, and has seen tremendous success at BU and been duplicated on many campuses across the nation,” said Rabbi Aaron Slonim, executive director of the Rohr Chabad Center. These days, three emissary couples work at Chabad at BU.

Development and program director Rabbi Levi Slonim, who was 10 years old when Udler was a student, added that “a program like this can only succeed where there is a well-established Jewish infrastructure, and a vibrant and dedicated core of Jewish students. Otherwise, you can’t even consider attracting this amount of guests. It’s a real tribute to our student leadership and organizing committees.”

The dinner was highlighted by Shabbat traditions such as candle-lighting; the reciting of the Kiddush, “Hamotzi” and “Grace after meals” prayers; traditional songs; and even some dancing.

“It is a massive undertaking—there are many, many students involved in the project,” said senior Joey Kirsch, who along with Shira Ellenbogen (Class of 2022) and Hannah Blas (Class of 2021), coordinated the event with the help of 235 others. “But everybody agrees it’s worth all the effort to see so many people involved in and enjoying their heritage and traditions.”

In addition to the herculean effort and grit, the event involved massive amounts of food. It required some 750 pounds of chicken, 350 pounds of challah, 1,800 matzah balls and nearly 200 22-oz. bottles of grape juice—not to mention umpteen bowls of salads and plates of kugel.

Professor Dora Polachek, director of undergraduate studies in the Department of Romance Languages and Literature at Binghamton University, and an instructor of French, has attended similar events over the years and said she remains in awe of the amount of work involved in such an undertaking—and how smoothly it all goes.

She said the event provides an opportunity to see Judaism at its best: up close, personal and highly inclusive.

“College has the potential of being overwhelming, given the sheltered environment of living at home prior to coming,” said Polachek, who holds a bachelor’s degree from Barnard College, a master’s from New York University and her Ph.D. from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. “Binghamton is large enough to offer many options to connect to one’s heritage. At the same time, it’s small enough to get to know your professors, as well as to connect to a form of Judaism that feels right.”

“Spirituality is a journey,” she pointed out. And with events and interaction like the Shabbat dinner, “students are able to foster close friendships with others on that journey.”

Born and raised in Rome, she hails from a Sephardic family from Libya. Arbib, 50, holds a bachelor’s degree in business administration from American John Cabot University in Rome and studied international relations. The mother of three girls—ages 15, 17 and 19—she is married to orthopedic surgeon Dario Perugia. She divides her time between Rome and Israel.

Arbib plans to direct her efforts on raising awareness among Diaspora Jews about the work of HaShomer HaChadash, connecting them with its wide range of activities related to protecting Israel’s land, with a particular focus on educating youth and young adults.

Q: How do you intend to make Americans more aware of the organization and its design?

A: The work of HaShomer HaChadash is both physical and spiritual. The physical aspect requires working and feeling the land. The spiritual aspect involves understanding why the land is important for the future of the people and the country.

To create an experience that will stay with you and “stick,” you must combine these two spheres in the following ways: expand awareness and understanding of the many challenges faced by Israeli farmers, including the ability to hold on to their land and make a living from it; create productive, meaningful encounters outdoors in the agricultural fields; forge personal connections between volunteers and farmers; offer volunteer opportunities to assist farmers in rehabilitating land damaged by intruders; teach volunteers how to engage in agricultural work; and raise important questions about the connection between people and land, and in particular, the Jewish people and the Land of Israel.

To that end, HaShomer HaChadash will host a mission to Israel from May 13-17. It will take participants across northern and southern Israel, showing them the land through the eyes of the workers, farmers and pioneers of the country. Among the places participants will see include Mount Kabir, Shiloh Archaeological Excavations, the Qumran Caves, the Negev Desert and Jericho. The experience will be accompanied by lectures and agricultural volunteerism.

Q: What is your main goal? What do you want to tackle right away?

A: We have a few goals for the first year of our international operation. HaShomer HaChadash has become Israel’s largest volunteer organization, with more than 70,000 volunteers in 2018, through models developed in Israel. We would like to use the experience and wisdom gained in recent years and build on this tremendous success to create a tailor-made model for the rest of the world. We plan to accomplish this by expanding programming in Israel and building programs in the United States for high school students, young adults and families.

Q: Why is it such an important Israeli value to care for the land? Do all students learn this in school?

A: The importance of the land of Israel is both historical and practical. God gave us the land to build a nation, and it is our duty and responsibility to grow and protect it. Moreover, the land is what grounds us, giving us a sense of perspective on life. In a world where technology is trying to take over everything, working the land and safeguarding it, touching the soil and getting close to nature reaffirms the important values of life and gives us a real sense of ownership. These values are hardly being taught in schools today, where competition and individualism are the rules of the game.

For decades, the Jews of the world have been an inseparable part of the effort to ensure the creation and existence of the State of Israel in the face of the existential challenges and dangers that have afflicted it. The years that followed have been marked by division and distance between Jews living in Israel and those living throughout the world. Now, however, at a time when Israeli agriculture faces enormous existential challenges, an extraordinary opportunity exists for the whole of the Jewish people to come together in a shared mission of mutual responsibility. Out of this, an in-depth mutual Jewish identity can develop, for now and well into the future, uniting Jewish communities worldwide.

Q: What is at risk the most right now—agriculture, wildlife, water resources, historical sites—on lands you want to protect?

A: What is really at risk is the sense of awareness of the reasons why the land is essential for our present and our future. We must understand why we are really here!

Q: What do you want readers to know most about the work you do?

A: HaShomer HaChadash is an organization of smart and committed young Israelis who want to strengthen Israel by working with people—young and old, religious and secular—to revive the fundamental values on which the State of Israel was founded. This includes developing leadership, building on the potential of each individual and strengthening Jewish identity.

We see no better tool than the land, combined with Jewish values, to obtain such results. We are only limited by our dreams. We at HaShomer think big and created a movement that today is the largest volunteer organization in the country—a revolution we want to share with the rest of the Jewish world.

But as they were preparing to leave their hotel, they saw a television report that a shooting had taken place in a Squirrel Hill synagogue, and the suspect had not yet been caught. Pitt students were told to shelter in place, and so the three lingered in their hotel room until about 1 p.m., when they eventually set off to visit their daughter on campus a few miles away.

“There is that strange feeling,” describes Rubin, 51, a lawyer by trade who also teaches courses at Rutgers University, “that sense of being near something intense happening, though it’s not directly affecting you. The first thing we thought of was our own synagogue, envisioning our congregants there at the exact same time and wondering how they were feeling.”

They never made it to the game. They spent a quiet day together, admittedly checking their phones every five minutes, she says, after learning that 11 Jewish worshippers had been shot and killing during Shabbat-morning services at the Tree of Life*Or L’Simcha Synagogue.

“Everything seemed inappropriate,” she says, being so close to the situation and helpless to do anything. “I felt terrible that I was able to enjoy my Saturday while others were in the midst of tragedy.”

On Sunday, they left Pitt early to attend a community vigil that evening at their synagogue.

“It feels like a dagger in your heart,” says Rubin. “When you heard the names, all those Jewish names, they seemed so familiar. They’re your own people.”

With their parents back home, hundreds of Jewish students attending Pittsburgh-area colleges are facing the aftermath of a violent attack that has put their city on the 24-hour news cycle.

Vigils, ad hoc fundraisers (selling items like soup and challah to raise money for victims’ families) and a mezuzah campaign took place all week, as students headed into Shabbat.

Sara Weinstein, co-director of Chabad House on Campus-Pittsburgh with her husband, Rabbi Shmuel Weinstein, notes that university administrators responded immediately, coming right over to the Chabad center to offer comfort and unity. (The Vice Chancellor, Dr. Kathy W. Humphrey, came back on campus at Pitt that evening to speak at a Havdalah memorial service.) Interfaith services were held throughout the week for students from multiple schools, including the University of Pittsburgh, Carnegie Mellon University, Duquesne University and Chatham University.

Area-wide Shabbat dinners were also in the works.

“It’s a time to be together—to stand strong and show our Jewish pride,” says Weinstein, who has served students at Pitt for more than 30 years. “We wish there were different circumstances, but we must use this time to act and be there for each other.”

She notes the enormous impact on the tight-knit community, which, like every Shabbat, will congregate in synagogues throughout the city.

“We are encouraging people to be together, to go everywhere on Friday and Saturday, to increase in acts of goodness and kindness. We are grieving—this was 11 whole worlds—but hatred only strengthens our resolve; it will increase our Jewish activity,” affirms Weinstein.

“A staple of campus life”

Matt Berger, vice president of communications at Hillel, says Hillels around the country have opened their doors even wider, offering emotional support to help students process what has been called the worst attack on Jews in the history of the United States.

He adds that more than 100 vigils took place on campuses around the country.

But Berger says dealing with difficult situations, even trauma, is something Hillel has prepared for: “We are aware of anti-Semitism on campus, and of campus security and safety.”

According to Hillel, approximately 1,600 Jewish undergraduates attend the University of Pittsburgh (Pitt), representing about 8.5 percent of the undergraduate student population. About 400 Jewish undergraduate students, about 6.5 percent of the total student population, are enrolled at Carnegie Mellon University (CMU). And an estimated 600 Jewish graduate students attend CMU, Pitt and Duquesne University combined.

“Our goal,” stresses Berger, “is to build strong Jewish communities—to be a staple of campus life. We recognize that for many students, it’s their first time away from home for an extended period of time, and we aim to support them with whatever they need.”

Daniel Marcus, executive director of Hillel JUC (Jewish University Center) in Pittsburgh, elaborated specifically on those needs in the aftermath of the Oct. 27 shooting.

First, “all of our staff is on hand to provide love, care and support. Dozens and dozens of students have walked through our doors. We’ve offered a place to talk, have a hot drink, eat doughnuts. United Hatzalah has even come to talk to students.”

Second, he says, was an emphasis on getting together for Shabbat, after the weekly Thursday event, Challah for Hunger, that had students baking and using funds from the sales to go to the Tree of Life Synagogue. (Each week, they donate to a charity.) Students raised $4,000. Therapy pets also came to Shabbat—something that was pre-planned, but through social media, more students had expressed interest in spending time with the animals. Dogs, cats and rabbits were on hand.

And third, notes Marcus, the “Hillel Makes a Difference” annual event, which was also planned before the shooting, took place. Students volunteered to make blankets, visit homes for the aged, help with urban gardening and other concrete activities to benefit the community. He said that participation increased all week.

Jewish students at CMU also had a fundraiser, selling matzah-ball soup and collecting more than $700 for victims’ families, according to Rabbi Shlomo Silverman, who co-directs Chabad of Carnegie Mellon University with his wife, Chani.

There was a large gathering the night of the shooting for Havdalah, he says, and as many as 2,500 participated in a vigil. Chabad CMU sponsored a Shabbat dinner that the rabbi hoped “will be a springboard for people who want to connect with the community.”

He also notes that counselors are available for students, as they are at other universities.

But he is also looking forward. He is already organizing more events than usual for Hanukkah—additional menorah-lightings, traditional foods, speakers. He wants students to stay connected, and says that eventually, the mourning should turn into something else—positive action.

“It’s really the message of Hanukkah,” says Silverman. “Doing for others, performing acts of kindness … bringing light to the darkness.”

At Temple Beth Hillel-Beth El in Wynnewood, Pa., outside of Philadelphia, more than 200 people filled seats to listen to three Israeli speakers: Michal Uziyahu, director of community centers in the Eshkol region; Sarit Khanoukaev, a 21-year-old resident of the hard-hit city of Sderot, less than a mile from Gaza; and Yedidya Harush, who represents the Halutza communities and Gaza Envelope region.

They told powerful stories of resilience in the face of Hamas protests and arson terror since March 30, the beginning of the Palestinian “March of Return.” They have also had to deal with rocket fire and Red Alerts, sending residents to bomb shelters at all hours.

To date, 10,000 acres of land in Israel’s south has been burned by incendiary kites and balloons—the size of about 10,000 football fields.

What’s needed, said the speakers, are fire trucks; fire-extinguisher wagons; fire-fighting equipment such as helmets, coats and axes; and, perhaps most of all, more bomb shelters. Trauma-resilience centers are another increasing need with the uptick in both adult and child-related cases of post-traumatic stress disorder.

“We wake up and go to bed with the smell of smoke,” said Uziyahu, a mother of three. “And with rockets falling, we have 15 seconds to get to a bomb shelter once the siren goes off. It’s a sound we hear all too often.”

All three speakers thanked their American brethren for their support, both fiscally and otherwise. They also expressed great appreciation for JNF-USA’s emergency campaign that is advancing relief efforts for the communities affected by terrorism.

And in typical Israeli steadfastness, Uziyahu noted that “99 percent of life is heaven of us” in the growing Jewish communities of the southern Negev Desert. “Only 1 percent is hell.”

Here, he shares a bit about himself and the Eastern European musical tradition that is his hallmark.

Q: Is cantorial music entertainment, spiritual nourishment or both, and how so?

A: In the 19th century, cantorial music was the only form of Jewish entertainment. You looked forward to going to the synagogue to hear your favorite cantor perform, and with that, receive spiritual nourishment. Of course, that changed significantly over the decades, in time and place. Today, cantorial music is an art performed globally on the High Holidays. However, its art is beautiful year-round, and still plays the role of both entertainment and spiritual nourishment in various communities around the globe.

Q: How has cantorial music changed in the past two decades since the turn of the 21st century?

A: The golden age of chazzonus was in the early 1900s. There’s been a major decline since the likes of Josef “Yossele” Rosenblatt, Moishe Oysher, Moshe Koussevitzky and so on. Having said that, since the turn of the century there has been a nice comeback unfolding. With cantorial music now available with the click of a button (YouTube) and people appropriating culture, there are many different occasions where cantorial music is on display.

Q: What is its role in Jewish life?

A: The cantor is the shliach tzibbur, the “representative of the community.” Their job is to pray to the Almighty on their behalf. Cantorial music is the tool that the chazzan uses to spiritually connect the congregant with the God. That’s why it’s largely associated with the High Holidays and life-cycle milestones.

Q: Does cantorial music have a special role during the High Holidays?

A: Yes. It’s the highest of holidays. The time to connect to God makes it all the more essential. On a technical level, the prayers are less known. So it’s important that the quarterback — aka, the cantor — knows the rules, the prayers and the songs.

Q: Is cantorial music meant to affect the worshipper? Does it complement prayer, or is it singular in nature?

A: Cantorial music is based in the essence of nusach ha’tefillah, the “modes of the prayers,” which were passed down generations since the time of the Temple in Jerusalem. There is holiness in the music. When used in its true form, it absolutely affects the worshipper, as it also compliments the prayer.

Q: What is the voice range of a cantor? Are they mostly tenors?

A: Most have been tenors, historically, like the “Cantors of the Golden Age.” I am a tenor. But today, it’s more common to be a baritone … I would say maybe 25 percent of cantors today are baritones. And, of course, within those general definitions are different types and ranges.

Q: What is the difference between the concert chazzan and the synagogue chazzan?

A: Let’s start with the important job of the synagogue chazzan. The chazzan is sincere, humble and with a sweet voice pours his heart out to the Almighty. The concert chazzan can be a true entertainer, or he can be a synagogue cantor giving a concert. Does the music fit with nusach ha’tefillah? Is it a piece that connects one spiritually? Or is it a piece that is a joy to listen to?

The greats did both at a high level.

Q: Do niggunim and cantorial music serve different purposes?

A: Completely. Niggunim is Jewish music meant for everyone to join in and be inspired together. Cantorial niggunim is an art that is best done with the participants silent.

Q: What does music mean to you and your religious life?

A: Music is a tool to connect. Unlike many career musicians, for a religious Jew, music is another form of serving God, whether dance music, classical music or cantorial music.

Q: What are your most memorable moments on stage?

A: My most memorable moments were certainly singing as the very first cantor ever to perform a Jewish song in the main hall of one of the most prestigious halls in the world — the Berliner Philharmonie in Germany, home of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra — with a 70-piece orchestra. I was also fortunate enough to perform in three cantorial concerts in Johannesburg, South Africa. And to perform the national anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” before two different NBA games for “Jewish Heritage Night” events: for the Utah Jazz in Salt Lake City and the Brooklyn Nets at the Barclays Center in New York City.

Q: Who is your musical role model?

A: So many … if I had to choose one: Moshe Koussevitzky. He served as a cantor in Vilna and Warsaw, escaping the Nazis with his family during the Holocaust by fleeing to the Soviet Union. They came to the United States in 1947; five years later, he became cantor of Temple Beth-El in Borough Park (Brooklyn). He was one of four brothers, all cantors. In December 1947, they sang together in a concert at Carnegie Hall.

Q: Do strong voices run in families?

A: They certainly can, yes. Parents, siblings, children can all have beautiful voices. I have a brother who’s a wedding singer. I come from a family with musical lines. But it is an art to be studied. The cantorial greats, they worked to refine their voices.

Q: Do you have a favorite music city?

A: Nashville, Tennessee. I have performed a few times there and will be going again. It’s an entire city that has an appreciation of and love for music—all music. I find that fascinating.

Q: What is the main work of CTVP, when did it start, and how many people are associated with the organization?

A: The activity of our organization is unique in that we provide personal assistance for each affected family according to their needs. This comes in three ways: economic, spiritual and emotional. I am the principle worker with the families, but get assistance from 450 emissaries, or shluchim, and Chabad centers all over Israel. We also utilize local volunteers who maintain contact with families during routine times, especially during Jewish holidays. They create personal and lasting connections. The activities began immediately after the 1967 Six-Day War with widows and orphans of Israel Defense Forces ‘ soldiers at the personal request of the Lubavitcher Rebbe — Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson — under the auspices of the Chabad Youth Organization in Israel, with the head office in Kfar Chabad.

Q: When did you get involved, and in what ways do you assist individuals and families?

A: I entered this mission 15 years ago, when the second intifada began. One example: Eden, aged 16, was seriously injured two years ago in a bus attack in the Armon Hanatziv neighborhood of Jerusalem. Eden suffered from severe burns and has been undergoing difficult treatments, and our organization pays monthly for a medical ointment on the recommendation of her doctors. The ointment is very helpful and not paid by the state; we also recently bought her a special bed and an air-conditioner for use at night.

Q: Is there a difference between the work you do in wartime and when it’s quieter in Israel? How do you prepare when Israel is in a state of high alert, as it is now?

A: Our operations are divided into three phases: emergency assistance immediately after an attack, interim assistance for the period of three months after the attack and long-term assistance that can last for many years. In times of emergency, we work all at once with many families in need of immediate urgent assistance. For example, with a family injured in Netanya, the mother was hospitalized at Laniado Hospital there, while her son and daughter were hospitalized at Hillel Yaffe Medical Center in Hadera. The father and two other children were at home in Netanya. Our organization paid for taxis for 14 days so the father could visit his wife and children, instead of traveling long hours on buses. We also organized volunteers who brought hot food to the family’s home every day, as well as a cleaning staff before Shabbat. The recovery period is more in-depth and emotional, and so we provide an attentive ear to families with home visits and assistance according to personal needs.

Q: Please describe an instance when you assisted an Israeli soldier or terror victim.

A: One soldier wounded in a terrorist attack was seriously injured in the leg. He needed a special medical device to “hold” or support his foot so he could walk more stably. Our organization bought this device for him for $2,000; it’s new and manufactured in Canada, and not recognized in Israel.

Q: How long do you stay in the lives of those you help?

A: Our organization adjusts assistance, financial and otherwise, according to each family. Some families return relatively quickly to normal life, and there are other families that need us for 15 years.

Q: How does CTVP assist orphaned boys and girls in celebrating their bar and bat mitzvahs?

A: We teach the child to read Torah and put on tefillin. We take the whole family out for a fun day in Jerusalem, buy festive clothes for the children, and give the bar mitzvah boy or bat mitzvah girl a gift. And we celebrate an exciting bar mitzvah ceremony at the Western Wall in Jerusalem with singing and dancing, so that the child will remember this moment with joy and happiness. After the ceremony, they go to a restaurant for a festive meal and then tour the city.

Q: You work with a predominantly secular population in Israel. So, how does prayer help spiritually? Can it help heal?

A: Our spiritual assistance is very meaningful for the families of terror victims, as we often arrive at their most difficult moments. We publish lists of the names of the wounded for others to pray for them. We offer them the spiritual power of prayer and a prayer for a speedy recovery they can carry with them, which gives them a lot of encouragement, especially during visits to soldiers before long operations, surgery, and while they are recovering.

Q: What is the mood in Israel right now after Iran recently fired rockets in the north, and as the Palestinians in Gaza hold weekly mass border protests in the south?

A: At the moment, there is a sense of uncertainty and fear that the situation may continue and even reach a state of war. These days our alertness is high, so that we can provide an immediate response as needed. We are hoping and praying that the situation will remain calm.

Q: What does this work mean to you?

A: Every morning, I thank G-d for the wonderful privilege of acting on behalf of Chabad in this endeavor. I feel that we are changing the lives of the families, making them happier and adding to their lives.

The committee issued the April 26 proposal after reviewing the bill, which was introduced in February by several left-wing members of the Althing, Iceland’s parliament. The proposed law sparked international controversy over the extent of religious freedom, with Jewish, Christian and Muslim groups condemning the measure, which would have represented the first official ban on circumcision in Europe.

The bill, which had passed a preliminary vote earlier this year, stipulated a sentence of up to six years in prison for those performing or arranging for the circumcision of a minor.

Icelandic lawmaker Silja Dögg Gunnarsdóttir of the Progressive Party said that the intention was geared “to protect the interest of the child.”

The suggested ban came at the same time that a young Jewish couple, Rabbi Avi and Mushky Feldman, announced the opening of a Chabad-Lubavitch center in the nation’s capital of Reykjavík. Circumcision would be one of many services to Jewish residents and visitors there.

Feldman, co-director of Chabad of Iceland and the country’s first full-time rabbi, welcomed the news, saying he was appreciative of the members of parliament “who heard our concerns and responded accordingly.”

“Respect for diversity and religious freedom is an important part of Iceland’s identity as a sovereign nation,” he told Chabad.org. “The Icelandic people have had their share of religious persecution and cultural censorship while under foreign rule, and as we celebrate the centennial anniversary of the 1918 Icelandic sovereignty referendum, we are reminded of the ideals that Icelanders fought so hard to protect.

“As the Jewish community in Iceland begins a new era,” said the rabbi, “we are hopeful that this matter will be laid to rest, and look forward to a bright and vibrant future for Judaism in Iceland.”

“Safeguard universal value of religious freedom”

Iceland, which has a population of approximately 300,000, is home to only a few hundred Jews and Muslims. Yet it’s become something of a tourist hot spot, with an expected 2 million visitors annually by 2020.

In early April, at the urging of a coalition of Jewish groups spearheaded by the Orthodox Union, U.S. Reps. Ed Royce (R-Calif.), chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, and Eliot Engel (D-N.Y.), the committee’s ranking member, sent a letter to Iceland’s ambassador to the United States, H.E. Geir Haarde, urging his government to stop the legislation from moving forward and to safeguard religious freedom for all Icelandic citizens. Other coalition members include the World Jewish Congress, Agudath Israel of America and the National Coalition Supporting Eurasian Jewry.

In their letter to Iceland’s ambassador, Royce and Engel stated that such a ban would create insurmountable challenges for those living in Iceland who embrace the practice — namely, Jews and Muslims — and send a message of intolerance towards different faiths and cultures. The Jewish tradition of brit milah, or male circumcision, is a fundamental ritual and sacred rite of passage. Throughout history, attempts to prohibit circumcision have been tantamount to rejection of the existence of the Jewish people.

In March, Allen Fagin, executive vice president of the Orthodox Union, and other Jewish communal leaders met with Haarde in Washington to express concern about the proposed ban, and its ramifications for Jews in Iceland and Europe as a whole.

“We are extremely gratified that members of the Icelandic government heard our concerns, understood the importance of this issue and responded accordingly,” said Fagin on the ban’s dismissal in Iceland. “The OU has advocated tirelessly to stop attempts to criminalize brit milah around the world and safeguard the universal value of religious freedom.”

One of the places she always dreamed of visiting was Israel. She has a lot of family there, and so her parents have been to the Jewish state many times to see them. Her older brother, Ari, went on a two-week trip in ninth grade and studied there for four months when he was a senior in Jewish day school.

“She was enthralled by the idea,” says her mother, Suzanne. “She had done some travel through summer camp, but nothing major. The main thing was that she wanted to go on her own. And if she wants something, there is literally no way to stop her.”

Monica, however, is not like every other 21-year-old. The resident of West Orange, N.J., has been diagnosed with severe ADD and has learning disabilities. Meaning, a trip abroad would be not only challenging, but downright difficult.

“In my wildest dreams, I could not imagine that Monica would go on her own,” says Suzanne.

“Fell in love with the land”

But she did. They came across a Birthright Israel trip sponsored by Friendship Circle, which Monica has been involved with for about 10 years. And even though Suzanne and her husband, Alexander, were a little nervous, their daughter got on a plane last summer — and had the time of her life.

“She fell in love with the land itself,” says Suzanne. “That’s something you can’t teach; you need to experience it for yourself.”

Monica notes that there were two places she really wanted to see: the beach in Tel Aviv, which she had read a lot about before going, and the Western Wall (Kotel) in Jerusalem. As for the latter, the Kotel, she says: “I wanted to see if God could hear me there. If I could really feel Him.”

While those may have been her personal highlights, Monica adds that she enjoyed many aspects of the 10-day trip. She liked the water-rafting and the Jeep ride, though she says the hikes were challenging. She liked eating falafel from the street stands and spending time with her Israeli cousins. She liked learning about Israel’s battles and eventual independence, and about the history of the Second Temple. A very social person, Monica liked being with her peers, meeting new people and having freedoms she doesn’t necessarily get at home.

Truth be told, she liked just about everything.

And she can’t wait to go back. Her mother says all Monica talks about is the trip and the friends she made, which her mother thinks is “phenomenal.”

“It can be hard for kids with special needs to make friends,” explains Suzanne. “She came home knowing new people, and now exchanges messages, sees others from the trip and chats with them on Facebook. And she seemed a bit more mature when she got back; after all, she had to take care of herself. She’s also more focused on Judaism. On every level, this trip appealed to her.”

This December, the Smolyars will be traveling to Israel as a family to attend a cousin’s bar mitzvah, and for Monica, who says she’ll go back “any day, any time,” it couldn’t be soon enough.

Also on the trip was Julian Reiss, a fellow Friendship Circle participant. Julian lives with his parents, Allan Reiss and Cornelia Peckman in New Jersey; his older brother, Albert, is a graduate student at Brandeis University. The 21-year-old, who has autism, is in his last six months at a therapeutic school, and enjoys art, reading, sports and going to synagogue.

Julian says his mother saw an advertisement for the trip at Friendship Circle and asked if he wanted to go to Israel. He didn’t really know what to expect, but knew from Hebrew school that “Israel is the home of the Jews.” To help with background and get “the full Israel experience,” his mother gave him a bunch of books, including “Exodus” by Leon Uris, which he read while there.

Julian notes that he didn’t speak as well last summer as he does now, and so communicating was hard. (In fact, when sent a list of questions about his trip, he took the time to write out the answers, and afterwards spoke slowly but determinedly on the phone to flesh them out. He also made it a point to say that he had fun during the process; it made relive those 10 days.) Cornelia adds that since he got back from Israel, she’s noticed “a huge leap in language.”

Like Monica, Julian was also touched by his visit to the Kotel, saying he could “feel the centuries of people who have prayed at the wall.”

“I won’t be judged”

While connecting young adults to their Jewish roots is one of the more concrete goals of Birthright, some of the other objectives are more nuanced, according to Rabbi Zev Baram, executive director of the Friendship Circle in Philadelphia, who led the trip for the 22 young adults last June. These goals include connecting to people — the participants themselves and those they meet in Israel along the way — and increasing participants’ independence, even for so short a time.

“People connect to each other and what is going on around them,” says Baram. There is a comfort level, an acceptance, he notes, about being around others with different needs. For instance, he has heard the comment: “I chose this trip because I won’t be judged for the quirks I have.”

That’s empowering, and it comes in other forms as well. While the program is adjusted to meet certain requirements regarding inclusion, especially when it comes to more physical activities, it basically follows the typical format: a climb up Masada (though via cable car or for some trips up the Roman ramp); a visit to Tzfat, and the artist colonies and synagogues there; rafting on the Jordan River; shopping in Tel Aviv; walking around Jaffa; Shabbat spent in Jerusalem. The group also went to Yad Vashem, the Israel Museum, the Biblical Zoo and the Davidson Center, all in Jerusalem, and had the opportunity to plant trees.

Birthright Israel started offering free, 10-day trips for Jewish young adults between the ages of 18 and 26 back in 1999. Since then, more than 600,000 young people from nearly 70 countries have taken advantage of the program, though the majority of participants come from North America. At the end of 2017, the age eligibility for certain trips was raised to 32 to widen the pool of applicants.

Friendship Circle started leading trips in 2008 — offering one trip per year — and has since connected about 230 teens and young adults (these trips are geared for those ages 18 to 29) with their homeland. This summer’s trip, which takes place from June 17-28, will be Friendship Circle’s 10th excursion to Israel.

“They surprise themselves with what they can do,” says Baram. “For many, this is the first time they have been abroad, even the first time away from their families. They learn to be more independent; they have to be. Plus, we don’t water down the experience. There are some changes on the ground — our hikes are lower-key, and we provide more time for transitioning to activities — but that can happen anyway in Israel due to weather and other logistical concerns.”

All in all, the rabbi emphasizes, it’s the same trip: “This is everybody’s Birthright experience.”

Julian definitely believes that to be true.

An athletic person (he’s on a Special Olympics swim team), Julian says: “I think everyone should go to be better people and better Jews” — and has been considering returning for some kind of work-study program, even for as long as a year.

His parents have acknowledged that. They’ve been gathering information and talking to others about options for young people with disabilities, and if it goes anything like the Birthright trip, where Rabbi Baram kept in daily contact posting photos and updates on Facebook, they will be reassured by this hugely independent step.

Julian’s mother says he expressed interest in going back to Israel literally from the minute he got off the plane. And why not? Knowingly, Cornelia attests: “It’s the best thing he’s ever done in his life.”