B’nai Mitzvah

Eva Annemarie Dreyfuss 
Daughter of Virginia Borges, Marina and Philip Dreyfuss, Saturday, March 28, at Temple Sinai in Oakland.

Nico Kerrest 
Son of Sara and Frederic Kerrest, Saturday, April 4, at Temple Sinai in Oakland.

Rosemary Metaxas 
Daughter of Jessica Miller and Adam Metaxas, Saturday, March 21, at Temple Sinai in Oakland. 

Evie Rosenthal 
Daughter of Noah Rosenthal and Kim Rosenthal, Saturday, April 11, at Temple Sinai in Oakland.

Liv Schulman 
Daughter of Rebecca and Mark Schulman, Saturday, April 11, at Congregation Rodef Sholom in San Rafael.

Obituaries are supported by a generous grant from Sinai Memorial Chapel.

Sanford Heisler

Nov. 9, 1926–March 8, 2026

Sanford (Sandy) Ivan Heisler, a longtime Peninsula resident of Foster City, passed away on March 8, 2026. A generous, devoted, loving husband, father, and “Papa” grandfather and great-grandfather.

A modern renaissance man of many talents, an engineer, project manager, business executive, consultant, arbitrator, author, naval officer, amateur artist, teacher, and avid skier. Bright, articulate, caring, friendly, and always willing to help either family or friend. A man of intellect, quality, compassion and high personal standards.

Family and friends will miss his thirst for knowledge, curiosity, his marvelous sense of humor, and how he has touched our lives.

Adoring husband of Lois Heisler. Loving father of Barry (Cyd), Jim (Wyn) and Cheryl Heisler. Loving stepfather of Dr. Mark (Suzanne), Paul (Cheryl) and Joel (Debbie Ann) Nadler. Homework helper and proud “Papa” to Jason Heisler (Lisa Okada), Rachael (John Quinton), Aaron (Danielle), Jennifer (John Read), Joshua (Gouna), Brett, (Shelly), Zachary (Rachelle), Stephanie (Brent McNamee), and Emily Nadler. Papa to 22 wonderful great-grandchildren. Brother-in-law to the late Marcia Sholkin of Florida. Cousin to the Fisher families of San Diego and Diamond Bar, California.

A graduate of Lick-Wilmerding High School and the University of California at Berkeley, served in the U.S. Navy during World War II and the Korean War. Employed by General Motors Corporation and later with Bechtel Group of Companies for 37 years in the heavy construction industry. Following retirement, he spent over 20 years as an arbitrator, Dispute Review Boards Chair and member, and performed extensive Forensic Consulting in the engineering and construction fields. Former President of Temple Judea; founding president of the U.C. Berkeley NROTC Alumni Association. A Professional Engineer licensed in several states, active in the American Arbitration Association, the American Society of Mechanical Engineers, the American Nuclear Society and board member of the Peninsula Conflict Resolution Council as well as numerous other organizations. Though he didn’t often speak of it, Sandy was also a longtime member of Mensa.

A memorial service will be held at Peninsula Temple Beth El, 1700 Alameda de las Pulgas, San Mateo, on April 9, 2026, at 12 p.m. Private interment at Salem Memorial Park, Colma.

Betty Weinberg

July 9, 1934–March 13, 2026

Talya Herring recalls the moment she became a dedicated environmentalist. Years ago, while vacationing in Nepal as a law student, she was told to burn her household trash in the open air. 

“It woke me up,” she said. “I asked myself, ‘What are we doing with our trash? What does my role in this world look like?’”

Today, Herring serves as co-director of the Jewish Green Business Network, a program of the Jewish environmental nonprofit Adamah.

As part of this year’s Climate Week SF, the Jewish Green Business Network will co-host a free three-hour summit on April 22, alongside the Beersheva-based DeserTech & Climate Innovation Center.

The event will focus on climate policy and investment, emerging green technologies and business collaborations.  

Climate Week SF takes place April 18-26. With more than 700 events planned, both in-person and streamed, the program features “thousands of people and organizations focused on accelerating climate solutions,” according to its website. Those solutions cover everything from alternative energy to carbon capture to greener construction materials.

Itamar Cohn, director of the Adamah SF hub for the Bay Area, said the April 22 event reflects that Jewish-inspired environmentalism is “broadening our engagement with both the Jewish and non-Jewish communities.”

Herring expects investors, climate policy experts and start-up founders to attend.

“One [start-up] has developed lab-cultivated smoked salmon,” she said. “Another has developed beer made from purified wastewater. We have a delegation of start-ups from Israel focused on clean energy, water infrastructure and agriculture.”

One of the summit’s speakers, Adam Bergman, is managing director of S.F.-based Eco-Tech Capital, a consulting and investment banking firm. A former investment banker with Citi and Wells Fargo, he focuses on agriculture tech, food tech, energy efficiency, electrification, renewable energy and water technology.

“I’ve spent the last two decades at the intersection of innovation and climate sustainability,” he said. “I say to my clients, ‘If you do not have economic viability, then you will have no impact on environmental sustainability.’”

For the upcoming summit, he plans to discuss entrepreneurship and investment. 

“It’s important to have a community of professionals and industry leaders looking to solve problems,” he said. “We’re in the Bay Area, with some of the smartest, most innovative people around. We have to figure out how to bring more people to environmental sustainability.”

Herring agrees. Although Adamah devotes much of its energy to promoting environmental education, teen trips to Israel, farm fellowships and retreats, the Jewish Green Business Network focuses on solutions that tech start-ups and the corporate world can create to guarantee a better environmental future.

The Jewish Green Business Network, which launched last year, wants to be part of that future. “We brought together Jewish climate professionals, investors, founders, people working on solutions to mitigate climate challenges,” Herring said.

“The Jewish component is not only a bunch of Jews who want to shmooze, but an understanding of a shared mission to work together,” she added. “It’s not just transactional networking, but an added level of comfort. It feels different than a regular networking event because of this. Jewish values are a call to action to invest in the next generation.”

Prior to heading Adamah SF, Cohn served as executive director of Wilderness Torah, the Berkeley-based nonprofit that blended Jewish ritual and a reverence for nature. After 18 years as a standalone organization, Wilderness Torah was folded into Adamah in September.

Cohn said the Adamah SF has worked on expanding partnerships with local institutions such as the Oshman Family JCC in Palo Alto and the JCC East Bay in Berkeley. He sees the upcoming summit as an opportunity to broaden his hub’s outreach.

“I hope this event and others like it will cultivate a culture of community,” he said. “One of our goals is to bring people together, to work through disagreement to [create] a greater connection and community rather than canceling each other. We’re trying to create an ecosystem of engagement with Jewish nature connection and environmental care.”

Passover events don’t end with the seders on Wednesday and Thursday nights. Community seders continue over the next week, along with other kid-friendly fun and adult-oriented activities — some even past the official end of the holiday. Chag Pesach Sameach!

Friday | April 3
Tot Shabbat: Passover — Music, crafts, snacks for families with children up to age 5. At Congregation Beth Am, 26790 Arastradero Road, Los Altos Hills. Free, registration required.

Saturday | April 4
“Belonging in Bloom” — Asian-Jewish Passover brunch with fusion foods, origami crafts and blessings. Presented by the Lunar Collective. Oakland address provided with RSVP. 11 a.m.-2 p.m. Free-$36.

Tawonga Family Passover — Outdoor celebration for families with kids ages 4-10 (siblings welcome) with activities. Location in Berkeley provided with registration. 3:15-5:30 p.m. $36-$108.

Shabbat and Passover Meditation Retreat — Day of meditation in mostly silence led by Adam Berman, founder of Urban Adamah. Bring a lunch. Light snacks and tea provided. At Urban Adamah, 1151 Sixth St., Berkeley. 9:30 a.m.-6 p.m. $50.

Temple Israel of Alameda — Seder. At 3183 McCartney Road, Alameda. 5 p.m. $60 members, $70 nonmembers, $30 children; free for children under 10.

Tri-Valley Cultural Jews — Secular humanist Passover seder with potluck dinner. Location in Livermore provided with registration. 5 p.m. Free for members, $25 suggested for nonmembers. RSVP: CulturalJews@gmail.com or 925-399-8029.

Temple Beth Hillel — Seder. (Vegan option available.) Bring a kosher dessert to share. At 801 Park Central, Richmond. 5:30 p.m. $15-$75.

Beyt Tikkun — Seder led by Rabbi Cat Zavis and musical director Ami Goodman. Catered Sephardic-inspired vegetarian dinner. (Gluten-free and nut-free options available.) At First Unitarian Church of Oakland, 685 14th St., Oakland, plus online option. 4 p.m. $18-$95.

Sunday | April 5
Family Passover Seder — Chochmat HaLev invites families to celebrate with separate experiences for ages 12 and under and for 12 and up, followed by catered dinner. At 2215 Prince St., Berkeley. 2-5 p.m. $36-$90.

Tuesday | April 7
USF Swig Program in Jewish Studies and Social Justice — Seder focusing on social justice, global climate change and environmental justice, in partnership with Dayenu, a Jewish nonprofit confronting the climate crisis. At USF, McLaren Complex, 2130 Fulton St., S.F. 6:30-8 p.m. Free.

Saturday | April 11
Mimouna: A Moroccan Jewish Celebration — Celebrate the end of Passover with Moroccan treats, a live DJ and a dance performance. Presented by JCCSF and JIMENA. At JCCSF, 3200 California St., S.F. 7-10 p.m. $36.

Sunday | April 12
“Blooming Into Freedom” — Passover yoga class, all levels welcome. At Osher Marin JCC, 200 N. San Pedro Road, San Rafael. 1:30-3 p.m. Free, registration required.

Saturday | April 18
Passover Fun Night — Kids’ celebration with hands-on creative activity, dinner and movie. At Peninsula JCC, 800 Foster City Blvd., Foster City. 5-9 p.m. $45-85.

“In every generation, each person is obligated to see themselves as if they personally came out of Egypt.” —Passover haggadah

On April 1, 1977, the eve of Passover, San Francisco’s identity as a city of peace and love was tested. Just steps from a synagogue in the Outer Sunset, a neo-Nazi bookstore opened its doors, named for Rudolf Hess, commandant of Auschwitz. 

Holocaust survivor Tauba Weiss z”l confronted the shop owner and asked if the murder of millions of Jews had not been enough. He answered coldly: “No, it was not enough.” 

Tauba picked up a rock and threw it through the storefront window. Her act of courage sparked a protest, and she was soon joined by other survivors, including her husband, Morris, who hurled the store’s inventory into the street.  

This moment galvanized the city’s Jewish community, and within two years, the Holocaust Library and Resource Center, now the JFCS Holocaust Center, was born. 

The anniversary of this watershed moment falls on Erev Passover again this year, and I find myself reflecting on the connection between the values of the haggadah and what I’ve learned as both a Jewish mother and a professional dedicated to countering antisemitism through education. 

Antisemitic incidents have risen sharply in the United States and around the world, affecting schools, Jewish institutions, online spaces, and many of us personally. Educators are increasingly called upon, and at times compelled by legal action, to recognize and respond to antisemitism, often without sufficient preparation. 

I find hope in those who show up ready to lead. 

Recently, 147 teachers, school leaders, and district administrators from 29 California districts joined the JFCS Holocaust Center at the School Leadership to End Hate and Inspire Courage Institute in Sacramento. These educators are committed to building schools where antisemitism and all forms of hate are recognized, interrupted, and addressed with care and accountability. 

They also understand something essential: how we teach matters. 

When Holocaust education is taught within the broader context of Jewish history, identity, contributions, and contemporary antisemitism, it is a powerful tool. Research shows, through effective lessons students develop a positive perception of Jews, greater empathy for others, and a stronger sense of civic responsibility. We see young people, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, become powerful upstanders. 

This is how we move from pain to progress. 

Passover reminds us that Jewish identity is not defined by suffering, but by resilience, by the ways we carry our history forward, and by the choices we make as Jews in the present. 

At my seder table this year, that lesson will be front and center. My husband and I have made intentional choices about our daughters’ Jewish education, from preschool through weekly religious school, and I do not waver in that decision. Each week, I greet the security guards at the entrance of our synagogue with gratitude and walk in with pride, not fear. 

These choices shape how my daughters see themselves — not only as inheritors of history, but as participants in a vibrant Jewish future.  

At Congregation Rodef Sholom, while my daughters are in class, I have worked alongside clergy to support parents through a series we created together called “Responding to Antisemitism: Supporting Jewish Identity and Belonging in K-12 Schools.” It offers a space to share experiences and practical tools to partner with school leaders in creating environments that are not only safe, but truly welcoming. 

We don’t have to choose between fighting antisemitism and building Jewish identity. We must recognize that one cannot succeed without the other. 

This is what it means to live the haggadah’s charge of “in every generation.” It is not only about remembering, but about taking responsibility for what comes next, preparing ourselves to respond to hate with knowledge, partnership, and resolve. 

Tauba Weiss said it simply and powerfully: “Education brings understanding, and that is my biggest dream.”  

The work she started in 1977 is not finished. The need has only grown. 

Last year, the JFCS Holocaust Center reached 165,000 educators and students, with more than 85% of our programs taking place beyond our walls. Demand continues to exceed what we can meet. As we work to expand the Holocaust Center into Northern California’s central destination for Holocaust and genocide education, we are guided by a clear responsibility: to ensure that every generation has the tools to build a proud Jewish community and a more just future for all. 

As we gather around our seder tables, we are reminded that our story is not only one of suffering, but of transformation and resilience. The haggadah does not end in despair; it tells the story of the Israelites, who led with courage and faith, guided by the belief that the future holds freedom, hope and opportunity.   

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of J. 

The Torah column is supported by a generous donation from Eve Gordon-Ramek in memory of Kenneth Gordon.

Passover
Exodus 33:12-23

We arrive at a strange moment in the seder. We are telling a story about Egypt. About slavery. About Pharaoh. About brick and mortar. And suddenly, the haggadah interrupts itself:

“In every generation, those who hate the Jewish people rise up to destroy them.”

It feels out of place. We are no longer speaking about Egypt. We are speaking about something much larger, much darker, much more enduring. Why does the haggadah do this?

Not to deepen our sense of tragedy, but to deepen our understanding.

If we confined ourselves to Egypt, we would search for explanations within Egypt. We would say: “The Jews were enslaved because they were foreigners, or poor, or too distinct, or perhaps too successful.” Each explanation has its logic. None survives the test of history.

Antisemitism does not behave like other forms of conflict. It appears under conditions that contradict one another. Jews have been hated when they were poor and when they were prosperous, when they were segregated and when they were integrated, when they were powerless and when they wielded influence. It persists in exile, and it does not vanish even when Jews return to their own land.

The mind searches for a pattern, for a cause that will make sense of it. But the usual categories fail. The explanations contradict one another. The question deepens.

Imagine a doctor trying to understand a mysterious illness. In one city, he studies the afflicted and concludes: it must be the water — the supply is contaminated.

Then the same illness appears elsewhere, where the water is perfectly clean. So he revises his theory. Perhaps it is the climate — the cold, the harshness. But then the illness appears again, in a place warm and gentle, untouched by such extremes.

At that moment, if he is honest, he must change the question. No longer can he ask, “What is different here?” He must ask, “What is the same?” For when every condition changes and yet the phenomenon remains, the cause is not in what varies. It is in what endures.

So too with antisemitism.

If it were the result of poverty, it would vanish with prosperity. If it were the result of separateness, it would dissolve with integration. If it were the result of weakness, it would disappear with strength. But it does not. And so we are compelled to look deeper.

What is it that has remained constant? What is it that the Jewish people have carried with them through every land, under every condition? It is not power. It is not wealth. It is not land. It is something far more dangerous. It is an idea. A vision. A moral insistence that has entered history and refuses to leave.

From the days of Abraham and Sarah, the Jewish people have borne witness to truths that were, and remain, revolutionary:

That there is a God who stands above all human authority.

That no ruler is ultimate.

That every human being carries within them a sacred worth.

That justice is not the invention of kings but the demand of Heaven.

That conscience is not to be silenced, even in the presence of power.

These are not merely articles of faith. They are the foundation of a moral universe.

And precisely because they are so, they have always been unsettling.

Any system that seeks to make itself absolute, any regime that demands unquestioned allegiance, must find these ideas intolerable. They limit power. They challenge authority. They remind rulers that they, too, are judged.

And so, across centuries and civilizations, we see a recurring drama. Different empires, different languages, different doctrines, but a strikingly familiar response.

Pharaoh cannot tolerate it. Haman cannot tolerate it. The Inquisition cannot tolerate it. Hitler and Stalin cannot tolerate it. Nor can the Ayatollahs. Nor can Hamas.

Antisemitism is not random. It is a reaction to something that refuses to bend.

The Passover haggadah teaches us to see this. It takes the story of Egypt and sets it within a larger horizon. It tells us: Do not be misled by appearances. Do not imagine that this began here, or that it will end here. There is a deeper current at work. And so it declares: “In every generation, they rise against us to destroy us.”

Yet the haggadah does not end there. It adds: “But God saves us from their hand.”

Empires have risen with great force and declared themselves eternal. They have marshaled armies, issued decrees, built monuments to their own permanence. And they have passed. The Jewish people have remained.

The seder, therefore, leaves us not with fear, but with perspective. Do not define yourself by those who hate you. Antisemitism is not the essence of the Jewish story. It is the shadow cast by a light that has not gone out. The story is what you carry.

If one must draw meaning from it, let it be this: When the greatest tyrants in history hate you, it is a badge of honor.

To live as a Jew, then, is not merely to remember what has been done to us. It is to continue what has been entrusted to us. To carry forward a faith in justice, in the holiness of mitzvah, in the sacred worth of every human soul.

Hatred may rise. It does not have the final word. For the story of the Jewish people is not the story of those who sought to destroy them. It is the story of a people who endured. And of a truth that still lives.

(JTA) — TEL AVIV — The day before Yael Ben Cnaan was set to take over ownership of Bishvil Flowers, a corner flower shop located in the upscale Lev Hair neighborhood, an Iranian cluster munition landed on the street outside.

The March 9 impact shattered the store’s windows and left shrapnel holes in the walls. The flowers inside, which Ben Cnaan was unable to access due to police closure of the street, were left to wilt. “In the meantime, the shop was not operating. There was no income, but the expenses continue: rent, payments and commitments I already took on when entering the business,” Ben Cnaan said.

All of this took place in the lead-up to the Passover holiday, which, according to Ben Cnaan, is the most important time of year for flower shops like hers.

“We depend on the revenue during these weeks to keep us alive,” she said in an interview at her shop.

Ben Cnaan was seemingly undeterred by the strike and wasted no time setting up a crowdfunding campaign and posting on Instagram that she would soon reopen with a limited number of orders available for pickup ahead of the holiday. “I don’t have a choice. If I don’t manage to sell bouquets, we would have to close.”

An online fundraiser has raised 45,000 shekels (about $14,000), according to Ben Cnaan, allowing her to cover repair costs in the short term. But the long-term survival of the shop, which has become a community staple over its 17 years, remains uncertain.

In the Instagram post announcing the limited resumption of sales, she urged community members to consider purchasing bouquets or making donations to help sustain the business. “It will likely not be enough,” Ben Cnaan added.

Nearly four weeks into Israel’s war with Iran, which has quickly escalated into a regional conflict, stories like Ben Cnaan’s are commonplace. Businesses are struggling due to widespread closures and damage from Iranian missiles, which have killed at least 18 Israelis since the start of the war on Feb. 28.

Now, Israelis are starting the Passover holiday under wartime, with the conflict casting a somber shadow on the celebrations. Iran launched the largest missile salvo since the start of the war as families sat down to their seders on Wednesday night.

Earlier in the morning, as Iran launched another barrage of missiles toward central Israel, one man was killed, and at least 11 others were injured.

The missiles punctured efforts to approximate normality in the hours leading into the holiday. Early Wednesday morning, Orthodox families gathered to burn chametz, or leavened grains prohibited during the holiday, before the deadline to sell or discard it, while more secular families walked their dogs just hours after multiple sirens sounded due to incoming missile attacks. Throughout the day, Israelis preparing their meals had to pause cooking and cleaning to run to their shelters multiple times.

With a ban on large public gatherings still in place, major public seders, such as those typically hosted by synagogues in Tel Aviv, had waiting lists hundreds of people long.

And hotels hosting Passover retreats saw widespread cancellations as travelers from abroad were unable to get to Israel, and as families changed their plans to stay closer to home.

The war has also prompted new reflections on the meaning of the holiday. “We know there were Passover celebrations in all kinds of surreal circumstances. My grandmother told stories about celebrating Passover during the Holocaust,” said Avital Rosenberger, head of the emergency unit at the Israeli branch of the Joint Distribution Committee. “It’s still our mission to remember, to maintain routine and to ask what freedom really means.”

The JDC has been on the front lines of assisting Israelis affected by the war, including residents of Beit Shemesh, Arad, and Dimona whose homes were destroyed by ballistic missile strikes.

Those involved in relief efforts fear the full scale of the damage will only become clear after the war ends.

“We are so deep in it, and I’m not sure we’re seeing the whole picture,” said Rosenberger. “Some of the damage, especially the mental and emotional toll, will only emerge at the end. We already understand what’s coming.”

The growing human toll is one dimension of the damage. Ben Cnaan’s example underscores the financial toll of the ongoing war, as well.

On the morning of Passover, while many other stores on Lincoln Street remained closed, Ben Cnaan was still at work taking orders and assembling bouquets for last-minute shoppers.

A concept and tattoo artist who lives in Tel Aviv, she has worked on films including “Beirut,” starring Jon Hamm, Ben Cnaan worked in the flower shop for years before taking ownership. Because her business sustained physical damage due to the war, she is eligible for state compensation to offset losses and fund limited repairs. But she still fears that she will need to close down if business does not pick up soon.

According to estimates from Israel’s Finance Ministry, the economy is losing at least 4.3 billion shekels per week due to the fighting. As gas prices continue to rise following disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz, civilians, whether affected directly by missile strikes or rising costs, are bearing the burden of the war.

For Johnny, who is spending a year volunteering with the JDC on Kibbutz Rosh Hanikra in the north, the toll of the war ahead of the holiday is becoming increasingly stark.

“They’re exhausted. They’re absolutely exhausted. And the thought of several more months like this could really break their spirit,” she said.

Johnny, who is Israeli but has lived most of her life in the United States, returned before the current round of fighting. She said it has been reassuring to be closer to her mother in the Galilee while volunteering on the kibbutz.

“At the same time, the community is incredibly supportive and empowering,” Johnny added. “I know they’ll be OK.”

She said she knows her seder plans with a host family in Rosh Hanikra may be interrupted by incoming missiles from Lebanon but remains in good spirits.

“We may have to head to the shelter,” she said. “But it’s certainly not the worst conditions for a seder our people have had to endure.”

(JTA) — At Temple Israel in suburban Detroit, where congregants are still reeling from last month’s attack in which a man drove a vehicle filled with explosives into the building, a new Passover tradition is taking shape.

“This Passover, we’re adding something new to our Seder plates: a single Lego block,” Temple Israel wrote in a post on Facebook.

The attack on Temple Israel, a Reform congregation and the country’s largest synagogue, took place as 104 preschoolers were inside the building. The assailant, Ayman Ghazali, was the only person to die in the ramming attack, which severely damaged the synagogue building and left one of its security guards injured.

While all the children were evacuated, their presence has shaped the synagogue’s call to add the children’s toy to seder plates as a symbol of both vulnerability and rebuilding.

“A Lego is a child’s toy — it represents the innocence that was threatened, and the lives that were protected. It represents our creativity, our strength, and the sacred work of putting the pieces back together again,” the post continued. “Place a Lego on your Seder plate this year. For our kids and our teachers. For our community. For the future we are building together.”

In the comments of the post, dozens of people pledged to include Legos in their Passover seders this year.

“I love this meaningful idea representing resilience and strength. I will put legos on our Seder plate in Santa Monica. Wishing all of the clergy and my Temple Israel family a Happy, Healthy and Peaceful Passover!” wrote one user.

Temple Israel is not the only victim of an antisemitic attack to be marking Passover for the first time since. Next week, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro is slated to host a seder with interfaith leaders to commemorate one year since an arsonist attacked his official residence hours after he and his family hosted a Passover seder there. The seder will be held in the same room that was burned during the attack.

And in Minneapolis, Shir Tikvah, a Reform congregation, is calling on others to include a “steaming cup of tea in a travel mug” in the Passover seder to honor the community’s response to the Trump administration’s aggressive immigration enforcement policies in the area.

“After you open the door for Elijah and before you pour the fourth cup of wine, we invite you to pour tea for everyone at your table from your shared cup,” the congregation wrote in a post on Facebook. “As you enjoy your tea, take a moment to share how you hope to show up in your communities this year.”

Temple Israel’s symbolic addition to the holiday this year is also not the first time Jews have modified the seder plate’s traditional components to reflect the dangers that Jews increasingly face.

During the Israel-Hamas war, some families included mirrors, yellow ribbons and pomegranates on their plates to honor the hostages still held at the time in Hamas captivity. This is the first Passover since the last living hostages were freed in October.

“There’s something comforting about what we know, but what if, alongside those familiar traditions, we also made room for something new and unexpected,” Rabbi Rick Jacobs, the president of the Union for Reform Judaism, said in a Facebook video posted Tuesday. “Rather than simply going through the motions, we might lean into the surge of Jewish pride we’re seeing all around us, even amid the current epidemic of anti-Jewish and anti-Israel hatred.”

I sat down with two wonderful historians and archivists, Lara Michels and Susan Morris, on March 22 to discuss the importance of preserving California Jewish history. We met up at the Magnes Collection of Jewish Art and Life in Berkeley as part of a celebration of 130 years of J., which was founded in late 1895.

Michels is head of archival processing at UC Berkeley’s Bancroft Library, where she oversees collections that include the records of the Western Jewish History Center. Morris is a former curator and executive director at the Judah L. Magnes Museum, the precursor to the Magnes Collection, and the author of “A Traveler’s Guide to Pioneer Jewish Cemeteries of the California Gold Rush.”

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Why even bother saving all of these bits and pieces of history? What’s the point of keeping all these records?

Michels: This is what I think about 24 hours a day. Archives are primary sources — the photographs, the documents, the letters, all the things that people create in their day-to-day lives. They are the primary sources upon which historical research is based. They’re part of keeping a society, organization or institution accountable.

The Jewish community in the Bay Area has kept its archives, at least some of them! They’re spread around a little bit.

These are not easy things to create or maintain. They are somewhat expensive. You need certain kinds of materials and climate and staff, so they take a huge amount of commitment. At the Bancroft, we have 100,000 linear feet of paper, and we have to maintain that … kind of forever.

Morris: I’m going to point out a particular object that we almost didn’t acquire when I was at Magnes. It’s a portrait of Max Lilienthal. [Lilienthal was an influential rabbi in the antislavery movement in Cincinnati and a key figure in early American Reform Judaism. The portrait was defaced in 1861 by Jacob A. Cohn, a Confederate captain who died a year later at Manassas.] 

What is scrawled on the portrait, what is boldly written, I quote: “Sir, since you have discarded the Lord and taken up the sword in defense of the Negro government, your picture, which has occupied a place in our southern homes, we here return to you, and may you present them to your beloved black friends. I shall be engaged actively in the field, and should be happy to rid Israel of the disgrace of your life.”

I was working at Magnes when [founder] Seymour Fromer learned this was going to be auctioned. He went to many prospective donors to say this is an important part of the holdings of the Magnes. In the end, members of the Lilienthal family helped to supply the funds needed to bid at that auction. This is such an important original piece of history.

How is it decided what will be preserved? How do you prioritize, when funds and space are not endless?

Michels: You have to remain connected to the community. We are short on space, short on paper, short on everything. But we have to make decisions. Sometimes our decisions do come down to: Do we have enough space?

They would have debates [at the Magnes] about what parts of the community they were capturing and which parts they weren’t. And they were sensitive to the fact that they were capturing more from the German Jewish community, from the Eastern European Jewish community, and they talked about that, and they were attempting to remedy that at various times.

In your work, are there collections or items that just stay with you?

Michels: I have collections that stay with me and that I think about all of the time. The Congregation Sherith Israel records — it’s a big collection, an amazing collection, going back into the 1850s. It is the only real significant organization whose records survived the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco.

Its records document the history of the city in really interesting ways. I was committed to retaining almost everything. This collection is truly spectacular. I’m very happy that I got to work on it.

Morris: This is a rough translation of a letter written from Downieville, California, Mother Lode country, in November of 1856. The writer is Johanna Mayer Hirschfelder. She writes to her mother and brothers in Germany, describing her trip from New York to San Francisco a month earlier.

Let me read you just a couple of passages: “Our trip was, with God’s help, one of the best and most beautiful that has been made in a long time.” 

There are pages and pages about what she ate and how she spent her time. She says, “On October 2 in the morning, at nine o’clock, we left on the Panama Railroad via the isthmus from the Gulf of Darién, where it was awfully hot, and my arm, which held the umbrella, was blistered.”

The point is — these are human beings, like we are.

J.’s archives are online at env-jweekly-jweeklydev.kinsta.cloud. How can people access other records?

Michels: The Bancroft Library is open to the public. You have to request [the records] ahead of time. It’s a little more logistically challenging, but everybody is welcome to use the Bancroft Library and any of the collections. We do have reference librarians who can help you figure out how to access things.

What should people do when they have materials that might be worth preserving?  

Michels: Our curators will engage with you. They do an appraisal, where they’re trying to figure out whether this is the right fit for the Bancroft Library.

It could be a lengthy process, deciding whether we should add it to the collection. But we are collecting Jewish Americana to this day. We’re still bringing materials in from various families and organizations.

Morris: This has to do with your curiosity and alertness and awareness of the importance of documenting and preserving the diversity and complexity of the Jewish community you live in, of your family. Recognize that each of your stories is important. We are the holders of the future archives. We are the collectors of the breadth and the depth of the knowledge of the Jewish experience.

Defense attorneys for five Stanford pro-Palestinian protesters are trying to force the district attorney and his entire staff off the case by focusing on what they describe as the DA’s false charges of antisemitism against their clients.

“DA Rosen harbors an unwarranted and baseless view that these defendants are not only antisemitic, but they are also anti-American,” deputy public defender Avanindar Singh argued in a Feb. 25 motion to disqualify Santa Clara County District Attorney Jeff Rosen and his staff.

A first attempt by prosecutors to convict the five protesters — who occupied and vandalized a Stanford University building in June 2024 — culminated in a mistrial in mid-February. Rosen declared at the time that his office would retry the case. 

That effort is now on hold after defense attorneys filed a motion to recuse Rosen and his staff. On March 26, Santa Clara County Superior Court Judge Kelley Paul granted a motion from the defense team to obtain additional documents that may support their recusal motion. 

Paul also pushed back the hearing on the recusal motion to April 30. 

Singh filed the recusal motion in late February, less than two weeks after Superior Court Judge Hanley Chew declared a mistrial when a jury failed to come to a unanimous verdict. The jury was split 8-4 on felony conspiracy to trespass with the intent to occupy and 9-3 on felony vandalism, with the majority of jurors in favor of a guilty verdict on both charges. 

The recusal motion argued that Rosen, on his personal campaign website and in fundraising materials, unfairly described the case as an example of “fighting antisemitism.” Defense attorneys said such language labels the defendants as antisemites.  

“There is no evidence for such animus,” Singh wrote in the motion, pointing out that the defendants have not been charged with a hate crime. “The conflict makes it unlikely the defendants will receive a fair trial.”

A page on Rosen’s campaign website titled “DA Rosen fighting anti-semitism” contains links to media coverage around the time that he charged the 12 protesters. After one protester pleaded no contest, 11 protesters were indicted. Five were tried earlier this year after the remaining protesters received mental health diversions or agreed to no-contest pleas on reduced misdemeanor charges.

Rosen, who is Jewish and whose late father was a survivor of Nazi concentration camps, has openly supported Israelis since the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas massacre in Israel. He spoke at an Oct. 22, 2023, rally calling for the release of hostages taken by Hamas on Oct. 7. He spoke again at a Unity March against antisemitism in March 2024 and at the Hillel of Silicon Valley a year later. 

Flanked by demonstrators waving Israeli flags, Rosen led a crowd in chants of “Bring them home!” at the Oct. 22, 2023, rally in San Jose organized by UnXeptable, the Israeli pro-democracy group. “This district attorney’s office will vigorously prosecute any antisemitic hate crimes that take place in this county,” Rosen said to cheers.

The defense team alleges that the Rosen campaign’s “fighting anti-semitism” webpage, which includes links to Rosen’s UnXeptable rally speech and others, was also used in a fundraising email blast in early December 2025. 

They argue that Rosen’s actions have tainted the entire office. 

Meanwhile, throughout the legal proceedings, prosecutors have argued that the political motivations of the protesters are not at issue. They instead focused on the extensive physical damage done to a Stanford building.

In the early morning of June 5, 2024, 12 protesters broke into Building 10 on the Stanford campus, which houses the university president’s office, shattering a window to gain entry to the building. Once inside, protesters barricaded entrances to the building using tools and furniture, covered security cameras and spattered fake blood around the building.

Five protesters –– Maya Burke, German Gonzalez, Taylor McCann, Hunter Taylor-Black and Amy Zhai –– elected to face the felony charges in court. 

Singh said his team plans to issue subpoenas to Rosen’s campaign for additional details regarding a Dec. 5 email and a Dec. 14 fundraising event. 

“DA Rosen told the recipients of the blast, and the general public … that his prosecution of German Gonzalez and the co-defendants in this case was part of DA Rosen’s fight against antisemitism,” Singh, who represents Gonzalez, wrote in the reply brief.

Robert Baker, a Santa Clara County deputy district attorney, and Sharon Loughner, a representative from the California Attorney General’s Office, each filed oppositions to the discovery motion. 

During a March 18 court hearing, Loughner argued the defense team’s reasoning for wanting additional time to retrieve records isn’t relevant to the case. 

Baker said during the same hearing that the defense attorneys requested records from the DA’s office related to Rosen’s personal campaign, which the office does not possess. He also challenged a defense allegation that the prosecution was politically motivated. 

In response to a request for comment, the Santa Clara County District Attorney’s Office referred J. to the California Attorney General’s Office, which did not immediately respond. 

If the judge grants the recusal motion to disqualify the DA’s office, the case would shift to the California Attorney General’s Office for a retrial or dismissal, per the California Penal Code. 

Rosen has served as Santa Clara County district attorney since 2011. He is up for re-election this year. 

As the waxing moon shone in a dark sky, seven men gathered on Sunday for an ancient ritual in the grassy courtyard of Berkeley’s Jewish Renewal synagogue Chochmat HaLev.

Leaping, whooping and hollering as the ritual reached its apex, the men were engaging in Kiddush Levana, or “sanctification of the moon,” a Talmudic rite for sanctifying God.

“It is perfect. You are loved. All is clear. And I am holy,” the men chanted in unison, reciting a meditative phrase by the late Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, a Renewal co-founder.

Noah Phillips, a therapist and occasional Chochmat HaLev teacher — he led a Talmud class and a session on Jewish reincarnation during Shavuot last year — organizes Kiddush Levana as an exuberant monthly ritual and a place for intimate discussion about masculinity. The event is in its second year and is open to all masculine-identifying people.

“It’s this amazing thing where we channel blessing,” he said. “By directing it at the moon, which is this feminine principle, we’re putting ourselves into the mature masculine element.”

The evening started with participants sharing their struggles and successes from the last month. That was followed by the chanting from text put together by Phillips, with each person taking turns and reading a passage.

Their chanting got louder and louder, until it grew into a joyous frenzy, with everyone jumping and yelling with their arms pointed skyward. Then came handshakes and hugs, with each man enthusiastically greeting the other with “Shalom aleichem” and the responding “Aleichem shalom” — peace be with you.

The evening ended with arm-in-arm dancing and singing “David Melech Yisrael,” in praise of King David.

Participant Danny Kaplan described Kiddush Levana as a blend of Jewish ritual and men’s group.

“In the modern context of what it means to explore masculinity, I really like that those two things are interwoven together,” said Kaplan. 

Another participant, Philip Epstein, said he returned to Judaism through psychedelics after feeling confined by rigid, traditionalist practices when he was young. He said he feels a connection to the ritual as a way to both grieve and evoke his late mother.

“She has appeared to me in the moon a few different times,” said Epstein, “usually with some kind of psychedelic or expanded state.” He said Kiddush Levana enables him to speak to his mother through the feminine gaze of the moon.

“It’s been really beautiful and painful,” he said, “but it’s given me a way to have this relationship.”

So much happens in our community every day that it can be hard to sift through all of the events. We’re highlighting a few here, in every corner of the Jewish Bay Area, to get you started. You can find many more in J.’s online calendar. If you have a community event you’d like to share, go to J.’s “submit a calendar event” page.

SAN FRANCISCO

Thursday | April 9
Roya Hakakian: The Battle for Iran — The Iranian American writer will speak about life under authoritarian rule in a talk subtitled “Inside a Nation’s Struggle for Freedom.” At Congregation Emanu-El, 2 Lake St. 7-8:30 p.m. $8. 

Saturday | April 11
Mimouna: A Moroccan Jewish Celebration — Celebrate the end of Passover with Moroccan treats, a live DJ and dance performance. Presented by JCC of San Francisco and JIMENA. At JCCSF, 3200 California St. 7-10 p.m. $36. 

NORTH BAY

Sunday | April 12
“The Road Between Us” — Documentary about retired Israeli general Noam Tibon’s actions to save his family and others on Oct. 7, 2023. At Congregation Beth David, 19700 Prospect Road, Saratoga. 2-4 p.m. Free. 

“Blooming Into Freedom” — Passover yoga class, all levels welcome. At Osher Marin JCC, 200 N. San Pedro Road, San Rafael. 1:30-3 p.m. Free; registration required. 

EAST BAY

Saturday | April 4
“Belonging in Bloom” — Asian Jewish Passover brunch with fusion foods, origami crafts and blessings. Presented by the Lunar Collective. Oakland address provided with RSVP. 11 a.m.-2 p.m. Free-$36. 

Sunday | April 5
“Lost in Yonkers” — Award-winning play about a family struggling to make ends meet in 1940s New York. Through April 19. Post-performance discussion with cast on April 8, and pre-performance Pride mixer at 6:30 p.m. April 15. At Lesher Center for the Arts, 1601 Civic Drive, Walnut Creek. $31-$95. 

PENINSULA/SOUTH BAY

Saturday | April 11
“On Being Jewish Now” — The Braid Theatre presents American Jewish stories in a post-Oct. 7 world. Stage adaptation of Zibby Owens’ book “On Being Jewish Now.” At Congregation Etz Chayim, 4161 Alma St., Palo Alto. 7:30 p.m. Also April 12 at 2 p.m. at Congregation Shir Hadash, 20 Cherry Blossom Lane, Los Gatos. $23-$64. 

Sunday | April 12
“Isaac Mizrahi: Hooray!” — The designer and entertainer will perform a “cultural whiplash” of songs from classics to modern pop. At Oshman Family JCC, 3921 Fabian Way, Palo Alto. 7-8:30 p.m. $90; $75 students/seniors.

(JTA) — In 2010, I said something I thought was unremarkable — that the government of Israel’s actions directly affect me as a Jew living in London. “When they do good things it is good for me; when they do bad things, it’s bad for me,” I said, noting that Israel lies at the heart of my identity.

My comments ignited a firestorm. Some called me a self-hating Jew or said I was giving succor to Israel’s enemies. More maddening, both then and now, were those who told me, in private, that they agreed but that such things should not be said in public.

I have heard every variation of this refrain for over 15 years but have continued to speak out. If Israel were something only Israelis can comment on, it would not be the Nation-State of the Jewish People — but just a state like any other.

Two years ago, I co-founded The London Initiative with Mike Prashker to give structure to our feedback. Our goal was to strengthen partnerships between Israelis, both Jewish and Arab, and Diaspora Jews who share a commitment to what we call the Triangle — mature liberal democracy, societal fairness for all Israel’s citizens, and the pursuit of secure peace. These are neither fringe propositions nor partisan policies. They are the values of our Jewish state as laid out in its Declaration of Independence. They are Israel’s operating system.

When these foundational values come under threat, we believe that Diaspora Jews have a responsibility to speak out, in partnership with likeminded Israelis asking for our support.

In August last year, The London Initiative sent a letter to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, signed by over 6,300 Jews from 20 countries.  We raised urgent concerns about humanitarian aid, the hostages, Jewish-extremist violence and incitement from within his own government. It was measured, principled and rooted in Zionist values. And it was ignored. The Diaspora, it seemed, was expected to keep its wallets open and its mouths shut.

Last week, in the face of unprecedented levels of violence by Jewish extremists in the West Bank, we wrote to President Isaac Herzog. We cited the IDF chief of staff’s condemnation of Jewish-extremist violence as a strategic threat and called on the President to demand an end to this terror and the impunity that enables it. Almost 4,000 have signed so far.

Then something remarkable happened.

The president neither ignored nor scorned us but replied, sharing the conviction that such violence “contradicts Jewish ethical tradition and the values upon which Israel was founded.” He confirmed he has demanded that all available means be used to bring perpetrators to justice. He acknowledged that this violence “plays directly into the hands of Israel’s detractors, fuelling hatred that weakens us as a nation and jeopardises Jews everywhere.” And he thanked the signatories for their concern and mutual responsibility.

Israel’s head of state publicly acknowledged the partnership between Israel and Diaspora Jewry, recognized that Jewish-extremist violence damages both Israel and Jews around the world, and thanked Diaspora Jews for engaging. He validated that Diaspora Jews not only have a right to speak, but a duty. President Herzog’s response — principled and courageous in the fractured political climate he navigates — is an outstanding act of leadership.

This seminal moment should encourage Diaspora Jews to engage constructively with Israel, with humility for the challenges Israelis face but clear-eyed too that Israel’s direction of travel affects Jews everywhere.

I have defended Israel against those who delegitimize it. We cannot be quiet when Israel’s enemies demonize it and our connection to it. But nor should we remain silent when the actions of some of Israel’s politicians run counter to our values and its own founding ideals. When we speak out, we are not using the language of our enemies, but voicing the call of an ancient people for justice and fairness. We should never flinch from doing so. It strengthens us.

In contrast, when violent Jewish extremists carry out attacks on Palestinians, when their protectors in the Knesset turn a blind eye, while passing outrageous legislation like the death penalty law, it weakens Israel and weakens all of us. And it does more damage to the reputation of Israel and the Jewish people than a thousand protest letters ever could.

Sadly, many communal leaders we approached to sign either ignored the request or explained why it was not convenient or why the timing was wrong.

We know all too well that there is an explosion of antisemitism facing our communities. But staying silent when we see our values violated, in this instance by thugs rampaging in the West Bank, does nothing to help the fight against antisemitism at home. We also understand that Israel is at war, Israelis are again under fire and our solidarity is with them. But here’s the thing: if our Israeli friends and colleagues can stand up for their democratic values even as they shelter from Iranian missiles, we should be able to muster the courage to sign a letter. When we stand up for our values, confident in who we are, we will be stronger in facing our myriad challenges.

Diaspora Jewry needs the confidence to work in partnership with Israelis for the Israel envisaged in the Declaration of Independence. That confidence must be underpinned by forthright leadership from our communal institutions. Staying silent when things are going wrong is not protecting the community — it is abandoning it.

Israel’s president showed moral courage — many of our own communal leaders need to find theirs. The “keep your wallets open and mouths shut” era is over. The stakes are too high, the values too precious, and the partnership too important to be surrendered to silence.

Our own leaders should realize that when faced with a moral crisis speaking up is not an inconvenience, but an obligation, and now is the time.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of J. or JTA, which distributed it.

(JTA) — The Israeli parliament passed a law on Monday mandating the death penalty for West Bank Palestinians convicted of carrying out deadly attacks against Israelis.

The law, which was approved by the Knesset in a vote of 62-48 following nearly 12 hours of debate, marked a victory for Israel’s far-right following a years-long push to increase penalties for Palestinians convicted of lethal attacks. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu voted for the measure.

“This is a day of justice for the victims and a day of deterrence for our enemies. No more revolving door for terrorists, but a clear decision. Whoever chooses terrorism chooses death,” far-right Israeli security minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, who has long lobbied for the measure, said in a statement.

The legislation has drawn widespread opposition from critics in Israel and beyond, including Israeli justice officials, progressive Jewish groups and the foreign ministers of Australia, France, Germany, Italy and the United Kingdom. Critics of the law say it effectively mandates the execution of Palestinian attackers while intentionally excluding Jewish extremists.

“In the highly volatile political climate that now imperils the rule of law in Israel, this issue further normalizes the invocation of state violence,” Michael Zoosman, the co-founder of L’chaim! Jews Against the Death Penalty, wrote in a Times of Israel op-ed in January. “It widens the gap between modern-day Israel and the central Jewish value of the inviolability of life.”

Minutes after the legislation’s passage, the Association of Civil Rights in Israel announced that it had filed a petition to Israel’s highest court asking it to strike down the legislation, calling it “discriminatory by design.” The current right-wing government has sought to weaken the court’s authority.

The law does not actually spell out that it is meant for Palestinians only. But mandates death by hanging as the default punishment for non-Israelis convicted in military court of deadly nationalistic killings. Only West Bank Palestinians are tried in military courts.

The law includes provisions that judges can opt for life imprisonment under unspecified “special circumstances,” but the death penalty would otherwise be mandatory.

While the law includes a separate provision that allows courts to impose the death sentence on Israeli citizens, who are tried in civilian courts, it stipulates that it is only intended for those who seek to “negate the existence of the State of Israel,” which experts say would likely exclude Jewish Israelis.

The law will not apply retroactively to militants held by Israel for their role in the Oct. 7, 2023 attacks, who are the subject of a separate bill now under consideration.

The law’s passage comes as Israel’s critics accuse it of maintaining an apartheid state. Some of the law’s critics say it adds ammunition to that argument.

Mickey Gitzin, the acting CEO of the New Israel Fund, decried the law in a statement, writing that it “strikes at the core of liberal democracy.”

“Make no mistake: this is a death-penalty law for Arabs alone. Its message is unmistakable—Jewish lives matter, Arab lives are cheap,” Gitzin said, adding that the group and its grantees were “already on the front lines—bringing this law to court, demanding it never be carried out, and working to scrub it from Israel’s books like the stain it is.”

Rabbi Jill Jacobs, the CEO of T’ruah: The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, condemned the passage of the legislation in a statement, calling it a “sign of Israel’s dangerous slide into violent populism.”

“This legislation moves Israel away from justice rooted in dignity, restraint, and equality, and toward a politics of vengeance that endangers lives and erodes the moral foundations of the state,” Jacobs said. “This is a moment of reckoning for Jewish organizations and American Jewish leaders. Those who care about human life and dignity for all living in the land must speak out forcefully against this law and continue to work for systemic change.”

(JTA) — The man who attacked Temple Israel in suburban Detroit last month was inspired by Hezbollah, the FBI confirmed on Monday.

Ayman Ghazali sent a video to his sister in Lebanon shortly before driving a fireworks-laden truck into the West Bloomfield, Michigan, Reform synagogue on March 12, the FBI revealed during a press conference in Detroit.

“This is the largest gathering place for Israelis in the state of Michigan in the United States,” he said in the video. “I have booby-trapped the car. I will forcefully enter and start shooting them. God willing, I will kill as many of them as I possibly can.”

Ghazali was the only person to die in the attack, which injured a security guard and severely damaged the Temple Israel building. He died after shooting himself while trapped inside his truck as it burst into flames.

Israel previously said that Ghazali’s brother, who had been killed in Lebanon days before the attack, was a Hezbollah commander.

“Based on the evidence gathered to date, we assess this attack to be a Hezbollah-inspired act of terrorism purposely targeting the Jewish community,” Jennifer Runyan, the FBI’s special agent in charge in Detroit, said at the FBI press conference.

She said Ghazali had begun searching for pro-Hezbollah materials online early this year but began planning the specific attack only days before it took place, buying an automatic rifle as well as explosives before heading from his home in Dearborn Heights to West Bloomfield.

Allen King loves to dance. The Bay Area native has been leading Israeli folk dancing across the region for decades, and, at 73, has no plans to stop. 

Both as a performer and as a teacher, King estimates that he has touched many thousands of lives at countless events, b’nai mitzvah and community dance circles. 

“The research shows that dancing is one of the most all-encompassing physical and mental activities a human being can do,” he said. “I can give that to people and engage them and get them feeling so happy.”

King, a former member of the venerable San Francisco folk dance troupe Rikudom, now dances and teaches in the East Bay. In Kensington, he teaches through Cafe Simcha and in Berkeley at the music and dance venue Ashkenaz, where he runs a special class a few times a year focusing on the old-school dances he first learned.

Israeli folk dance burst onto the Jewish American culture scene in the 1960s and has continued to thrive as what’s been called an “embodied identification with Israel.” Israeli folk dancing, along with singing, has also shaped generations of Jewish campers. 

That’s certainly true for King. 

Though he made his living at a Bay Area distributor of paper packaging before retirement, King said that his life has always revolved around dance. It is not only the core of his Jewish identity, it is the way he gives back. For him, it’s about seeing the joy on people’s faces after a dance session.

“They remember the happiness they had when they were dancing, how good a time they had,” the Berkeley resident said. “Because there’s nothing like the endorphins of dancing.”

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Tell me a bit about where and how you grew up.

I grew up in Richmond, California, and we belonged to Temple Beth Hillel, which is a Reform synagogue.

My life growing up was not super happy. There weren’t a lot of Jewish people in Richmond, and certainly in my schools there were almost none. But I was proud of being Jewish. My parents taught me to be proud. My mother was a Holocaust survivor who was in hiding during the war, and my father fought in the war. So I had a strong awareness of who I was. 

One of the highlights was in sixth grade. Every year at public elementary school, they would have a Christmas program and all the kids would sing various Christmas songs. And I asked the teacher, let me do a Hanukkah song because I celebrate Hanukkah, I don’t celebrate Christmas. And the teacher said yes, so we did a Hanukkah song, and they continued that tradition afterward. This was in the late ’50s, so very recently after World War II. It was a big deal to me.

It was camp — Camp Saratoga, as it was known at the time, later Camp Swig and now Camp Newman —  that introduced you to Israeli folk dance, right?

I signed up for dancing because I just thought it’d be fun. And it turned out I finally found one thing in my life that I was physically good at. Rather than being the last kid picked for kickball in fourth grade, I could do folk dance, and I was competent. It was a huge deal. 

That experience with dance changed my life, literally, and I’ve been dancing ever since.

So it wasn’t just a summer fling?

It was too big of a part of my life to ever end it. 

I became part of the Rikudom dance group in 1969, and three months later, one of the people in the performing troupe invited me to become a partner in the performing troupe. I was in that group until the group ended in 1994. 

In the meantime, in 1972-73 I was a junior at UC Berkeley and I decided I wanted to do a junior year abroad. I didn’t have much connection to Israel. I was a strong Jew, but I didn’t know much about Zionism.

So I said, I’ll go to Israel to the Hebrew University. And that was another awakening. The homeland of Israeli folk dance was quite amazing. I ended up signing up for a course to get certified as an Israeli folk dance teacher for Israeli public schools, a year-long course, all in Hebrew. 

I saw a sign on some telephone pole about tryouts for a dance troupe, so I tried out and was accepted as a troupe member for Lehakat Hora [now called Hora Yerushalayim], the hora dance troupe of Jerusalem, which is still in existence. I performed for tourists every Thursday night.

That was a year of study and music and dance that was just out of this world.

You got a job to pay the bills, but you kept dancing. What kept you going?

When I came back, I decided dance would always be my life, and I taught and led [dancing at] maybe 100 or 150 bar mitzvahs and bat mitzvahs over the years throughout the Bay Area. 

I saw when I taught dance and did dance, it brought joy to people. It brought multiple generations together on the dance floor. I run into kids now, 30, 40, 50 years later, where I led dancing at their bar mitzvahs. They don’t remember anything about the party other than that the dancing was so much fun, and their grandpa or great-grandpa was on the floor with them dancing. I mean, these are memories. I create memories for people when I’m dancing. 

You’re 73. What does your dance life look like now?

I’ve been retired now for six years. I turned 73 last November, and I’m still dancing. For the last 35 years, [Cafe Simcha has] been up in a church in Kensington, and I’m part of the committee that runs that evening.

What’s it like to step into a communal Israeli folk dance night?

People welcome you: “Hi. Where are you from? Have you ever danced before? Oh, if you haven’t danced before, dance next to me. Let me help you.”

Sessions are different, and I will tell [people] that, you know, after an hour or so of trying and working and thinking really hard, you’re going to be tired. But that doesn’t mean that you have failed. You succeeded. You came and you danced. 

When you listen to a song, it’s not just one part of your brain; every part of your brain is activated. Research shows dance is the same thing, because first, we have the music, plus you’re learning new steps. And how many people learn new things as they get older, right?

People walk in the room because they want something. They want a community, some place to go out at night, to do something for themselves and get some physical activity. Maybe they didn’t know what they wanted. 

They can get all of that there. Folk dancing is a very gregarious activity, and people don’t judge people for their skill level. They just welcome them. 

I can go dancing anywhere in the world and find someone that I know. It’s really remarkable.

A new California bill would require state government forms that collect demographic data to add “Jewish” as an ethnic identity.

This would both allow Jews to identify themselves as an ethnicity for the first time and make California the first state required to collect data on Jews in this way.

Checking the box will be optional.

Currently, some state government forms ask a question about religion and include “Jewish” as a response. State Sen. Henry Stern (D-Sherman Oaks), a California Legislative Jewish Caucus member who introduced SB 1387, told J. that the state needs better demographic data on Jews in the state. He added that some may identify as Jewish ethnically instead of religiously.

“This is really just to identify and understand the citizens we’re serving, and how to best serve them and what pressures they might be going through,” said Stern, who introduced the bill in late February. “We’re trying to give space for people who don’t fit in a box right now.”

He said that this gap in data has had real consequences, ranging from hate crimes getting miscategorized to difficulties in understanding trends affecting Jewish students in public schools. 

California collects demographic data on forms for services like public school enrollment, voter registration, paid family-leave benefits and CalFresh food assistance. 

SB 1387 is coauthored by state Sen. Ben Allen (D-El Segundo) and Assemblymembers Marc Berman (D-Palo Alto) and Josh Lowenthal (D-Long Beach). Like Stern, the co-authors are members of the Jewish Caucus. 

The bill is sponsored by Jewish California, which represents a statewide coalition of more than 40 Jewish organizations and is formerly known as the Jewish Public Affairs Committee of California, or JPAC.

The bill was introduced just months after Gov. Gavin Newsom signed AB 91 into law. That legislation created a new category under race and ethnicity on state forms for people with Middle Eastern and North African origins, which includes Israelis.

“There are a lot of Jewish people that identify with their Jewish identity based on ancestry or history, language, food, culture, physical characteristics and values, and those things that are often defining characteristics of ethnicity,” said David Bocarsly, Jewish California’s executive director. “We’re not just a religion. We’re a culture, a peoplehood and an ethnicity. That is what we are.”

The bill would also amend education law to clarify that the category of ethnicity “is inclusive of Jewish identity,” according to the bill text. 

The requirement to include “Jewish” as an ethnic identity would apply broadly across state government, affecting agencies that collect demographic data in areas like health, education, social services, licensing, research and surveys.

The bill would also add Jewish identity to criminal justice data within the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, as well as to disability benefits data.

Under SB 1387, the data collected would be publicly reported in aggregated form, meaning the information would be presented as averages, totals or percentages without personal identifiers.

The bill, which will likely undergo revisions during the 2026 legislative session, has tentatively earned institutional support among Jewish organizations. For some people, though, it raises significant questions about privacy. 

Joshua Goldstein, a professor of demography at UC Berkeley, said that although it would be presented in aggregated form, this type of data is “often collected in a non-anonymized manner.” He pointed out that “a respondent’s name will be linked to their answer from the outset of data collection and only removed later” for publication.

Goldstein, who has studied how mixed-race and ethnic populations form and are identified, said it is important to consider whether the benefits clearly outweigh the risks of creating such a dataset.

“We should be very, very cautious about potential side effects of the collection of ‘ethnicity’ on Jews,” he said. “One does not need to go to Nazi Germany to see historical examples of government data on ethnicity being misused.”

Stern stressed that he understands the “sensitivity of the moment,” and Bocarsly noted that the measure is intended to act as a “protective shield” for the Jewish community.

They said that individuals who are concerned about sharing their identity are not required to check the box. They each added that in their view, better data can improve health care outcomes, public schooling and other government services.

“If there are a few people who don’t feel comfortable sharing that data, they don’t have to” Bocarsly said, “so there shouldn’t be any risk here.”

Updated March 31

How did you or your family come to call the Bay Area home? 

Perhaps you come from a multi-generation San Francisco family. Maybe you showed up in the East Bay or North Bay for the Summer of Love and never left. Perchance you are a recent arrival in Silicon Valley.

J. has been serving the Bay Area Jewish community since 1895. In celebration of our 130-year-old archive, we are launching an audio-history project to preserve individual histories in our region. We want to hear your story.

If you’re interested in participating in the project, call us at 415-263-7200 ext. 953 by April 15 and tell us how you or your family became a Bay Area resident..

In the message, be sure to include your full name and how you or your family came to call the Bay Area home. Because we are organizing the project in chronological order, we ask you to include important years in that story. (A ballpark estimate is fine.)

J. kicked off this project at our “History is Calling!” event on March 22 at the Magnes Collection of Jewish Life and Art in Berkeley, where we marked the 130th anniversary of our publication and archive, which is online.

Even though your message will be recorded via voicemail, just know we’re all ears. We’re looking forward to hearing from you. Again, please call us at 415-263-7200 ext. 953 by April 15.

Thank you for preserving a slice of Bay Area Jewish history.

Update on March 31: Ednah Beth Friedman’s name has been corrected in the caption.

This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.

Christian influencers like Candace Owens and Tucker Carlson are rallying their followers against Israel — and Jews. And to do so, they’re also weaponizing a centuries-old concept that underlies many strains of Christianity.

It’s called supersessionism, and it’s the idea that Jesus’ existence supersedes all commands, laws and beliefs that came before it. Christians often say that Jesus’ death “fulfilled” God’s commandments, meaning that everything God said to Jews in the Hebrew Bible, all of the covenantal promises and laws, are obsolete.

These views on Israel, and their theological interpretation, collide with a Christian Zionist movement that deeply supports Israel for its own scriptural reasons, believing that Jews must return to Israel to fulfill a prophecy and herald Jesus’ own return.

Yet supersessionism has become a theme in Christian opposition to Israel. We hear it in the words of Carrie Prejean Boller, a recent Catholic convert and a now-former member of the Religious Liberty Commission, a Trump administration council on religious protections. After she used a panel on fighting antisemitism as a platform to declare that her religious convictions prevented her from supporting Israel — and was removed from the commission as a consequence — she doubled down. “The Catholic Church is the True Israel,” Prejean Boller declared in a post on X. “Christians are the spiritual Semites. We are the new people of God.”

Candace Owens, a Christian podcaster who often refers to Judaism as Satanist; avowed white supremacist Nick Fuentes; and right-wing commentator Tucker Carlson have all similarly said that their Christianity prevents them from supporting Israel because Jesus has obviated the need for a holy land. “As Jesus says plainly in the Gospels, I am the Temple. I am the Temple now,” said Carlson in a recent video, explaining his religious opposition to Israel.

These supersessionist Christian influencers have expressed support for Gaza and criticized Israel on political and moral grounds; that part is not religious. But they have also insisted that they must oppose Israel from a religious perspective, because its very existence goes against their belief that Jesus has taken the biblical place of Israel.

In their hands, supersessionism fuels not only opposition to Israel, but explicit antisemitism — Prejean Boller has said that she is incapable of being antisemitic because, she argued, since Catholics are the true Semites, she would have to be discriminating against herself. Owens repeatedly refers to Judaism as the “synagogue of Satan,” an age-old accusation that in rejecting Jesus, Jews have rejected God and become evil. 

This ancient and controversial piece of theological history is increasingly becoming a bludgeon against Israel, and Jews more broadly.

The roots of supersessionism

In the supersessionist understanding of Christianity, now, Jesus’ followers — Christians — are the chosen people of God, overriding and replacing the Jews in covenant with God.

Scholar Susanna Heschel has referred to supersessionism as a form of colonization. “Christianity colonized Judaism theologically,” she writes in an essay on supersessionism in Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ,” arguing that the newer religion usurped its central theological concepts while “denying the continued validity of those ideas for Judaism.”

The reasons supersessionism emerged as a dominant belief in Christianity are rooted in a complicated history. Christianity arose from Judaism, and Jesus was a Jew. So early Christians put a lot of work into differentiating themselves and their new religion from Jews and Judaism.

“Paul, you know, he did not want Christians to adopt Judaism,” Marcia Kupfer, an independent scholar who researches and writes about supersessionism, particularly in medieval art, told me over the phone. “It would mean that they are turning to the law when they should be just putting their faith in Jesus.”

Much of that differentiation involved rejecting the continued validity of Judaism. While Christians do consider the Hebrew Bible to be part of their holy texts, there’s a reason they refer to it as the “Old Testament” — because, now, it is obsolete, making anyone who continues to follow its teachings in some way backward and no longer in active relationship with God.

“It is this problem of having, in a way, consumed Judaism,” Kupfer said. “It’s part of their Bible. But it has to be preparatory, prophetic, some anticipatory stage to something more complete and true. More spiritual. So it’s at the same time taken over and rejected.”

Who believes in supersessionism?

Today, it can be tough to definitively say what movement thinks what, due, in large part, to the stratospheric rise of Christians who consider themselves non-denominational — and to the linguistics around supersessionism, which some consider to be a negative term, even as others embrace it.

“It often doesn’t get talked about as supersessionism,” said Matthew D. Taylor, a theologian and visiting scholar at the Center on Faith and Justice at Georgetown University. “I don’t know too many Christians who will come out and say: ‘I’m a supersessionist.’”

But, in general, the more doctrinally focused the church — Catholicism, Orthodox, Calvinism — the more likely it is to have historically preached supersessionism; the more experiential churches, such as the non-denominational charismatic movement, are less attached to the ideology and often lean toward endorsing Israel.

Among the sects that have historically preached supersessionism, however, the ideology has been a topic of hot debate since the Holocaust. In recent years, these churches — especially the Catholic church — have made moves to reject the ideology, due to supersessionism’s antisemitic undertones.

Rev. Russell McDougall, director of ecumenical and interreligious affairs at the United States Council of Catholic Bishops, told the Forward that “the church has repudiated” supersessionism “quite clearly,” and admonished Catholic influencers like Owens, Prejean Boller and Fuentes in a letter from the USCCB. He pointed to a 2015 Church document titled “The Gifts and Calling of God Are Irrevocable,” released on the 50th anniversary of another groundbreaking document about Jews, Nostra Aetate.

Nostra Aetate, a portion of the revolutionizing Catholic council known as Vatican II, is lauded for improving church views on Jews. It rejects the belief that the Jewish people bear responsibility for Jesus’ death, and also affirms Christianity’s roots in Judaism. But, while Nostra Aetate sought to improve Catholic respect for Judaism, it still affirms some supersessionist ideas. “Although the Church is the new people of God,” it says, “the Jews should not be presented as rejected or accursed by God.” Jews, in other words, are not hated by God — still, Christians have replaced them as God’s favored children.

The 2015 treatise grapples with this issue at far greater length. It admits that rejecting supersessionism undermines the central beliefs of the Church. “The theory that there may be two different paths to salvation, the Jewish path without Christ and the path with the Christ,” the document says, “would in fact endanger the foundations of Christian faith.” How to excise supersessionism without undermining the church, it concludes, “remains an unfathomable divine mystery.”

The idea that salvation is given by God exclusively through Jesus is so central to church teachings that rejecting supersessionism poses clear contradictions — which is perhaps why modern Christian influencers are returning to it.

The Christian movements that do not preach supersessionism — the charismatic non-denominational movements, Pentecostal Christians, and fundamentalist evangelicals such as Mike Huckabee, the current U.S. ambassador to Israel — don’t resolve the contradictions either.

Many Christian Zionists focus, in part, on a line in Genesis, 12:3, in which God says that those who love Israel will be blessed and those who oppose it will be cursed; Ted Cruz cited this verse to Tucker Carlson in explaining his support for Israel. Others reference prophetic books in the Bible that point to God’s promises around Israel. But they do not necessarily engage with other lines in the New Testament that imply support for supersessionism.

“They’re reading the Bible in a very helter-skelter way,” said Taylor of the charismatics.

Why does any of this matter?

While supersessionism is core to Christian theology, it might seem like a niche debate best left to pastors and rabbis. But, looking at statements from Carlson, Prejean Boller and others, it’s clear that it informs and justifies their politics regarding Israel and Jews at large — even though it has officially been rejected by many churches.

“They’re in many ways rebelling against the past 60 years of Catholic theology, and trying to hearken back to something that they view as more authentic,” said Taylor of the influencers. “So I think that the supersessionist piece is signaling something significant because it’s part of the broader distaste for some of the modernizing shifts within Roman Catholicism.”

Supersessionist beliefs have, for years, driven antisemitism. It is woven into centuries of artistic and cultural portrayals of Jews as backwards, lesser or even Satanic, based on the idea that Jewish practice is defunct and has rejected God. Synagoga, a symbolic representation of Judaism throughout medieval art, is often depicted as blind. The theological precept has also driven attempts to evangelize and convert Jews for centuries, something Christians might not understand as antisemitism but which many Jews see as an attempt to erase Judaism.

Many, many church leaders — Catholic and otherwise — support Israel. Christian Zionists like Huckabee or John Hagee, a preacher who runs the Christian Zionist advocacy group Christians United For Israel, are a major force in the U.S. Some of these groups lean even philosemitic, appropriating Jewish rituals such as blowing the shofar or wearing a tallit into their Christianity. (This is also seen by many Jews as a form of supersessionism and cultural appropriation.)

Still, a growing number of Christians are embracing antisemitism in the name of supersessionism. This theology undergirds the increasingly common argument that some antisemitic beliefs are a fundamental part of Christianity — and therefore that asking Christians to fight antisemitism infringes on their freedom of religion.

Former congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene refused to vote for the Antisemitism Awareness Act, saying it would restrict Christian beliefs. Prejean Boller, in the Religious Liberty Commission hearing on antisemitism that resulted in her removal, accused the Jews on the panel of calling all Catholics antisemites. Since then, she has repeatedly rejected accusations of antisemitism and said that they are infringing on her own religious liberty.

This debate — whether or not Christianity embraces or rejects Jews, and how either choice operates theologically — has become a core conflict in American Christianity, and among the right wing in the U.S.

“I think Israel has become a kind of battleground between these folks with the more interventionist kind of Christian Zionist,” said Taylor, “versus this more kind of isolationist, Catholic and Calvinist, supersessionist and antisemitic coalition.”

But even the more philosemitic side isn’t really embracing Jews for their own sake or on their own terms. Though politicians like Mike Huckabee and Ted Cruz cite scripture to justify their support for Israel, it’s an uneasy alliance rooted in Christianity, not Judaism.

For these Christian Zionists, Jews operate as a way to access and experience a form of Christianity that feels ancient and authentic — think Paula White-Cain, Trump’s former spiritual advisor, being wrapped in a Torah by a messianic Jewish “rabbi,” an act of supposed Judaism that no Jew would ever do. For many of them, support for Israel springs out of a scriptural hope for the end times, and the need to gather Jews in Israel to trigger the apocalypse.

“On the American far right, this bifurcation into philosemitism and antisemitism are not opposites,” said Taylor. Instead, he said, they’re “two sides of the same coin — they’re often instrumentalizing Jews for Christian purposes.”

This story was originally published on the Forward.

(JTA) — More than half of U.S. Jews disapprove of the U.S. war against Iran, according to a new poll by a nonpartisan polling firm.

At the same time, an Israeli survey of “connected” American Jews found a slight decrease in support for the joint U.S.-Israeli operation against Iran since its start a month ago.

The new poll found that 55% of American Jews oppose the U.S. military action against Iran, compared to just 32% who support it. The poll found a sharp partisan divide, in line with polling of Americans in general, with Republicans more supportive than Democrats.

A quarter of respondents said they were “torn because while Iran is a threat to peace, this is not the way to handle it.”

The survey was conducted online in mid-March by the Mellman Group, led until his death last year by Jewish Democratic pollster Mark Mellman, and included 800 registered Jewish voters.

The poll found that a large majority of U.S. Jews believe President Donald Trump should have sought congressional approval for the war — including nearly a third of those who support it. And about four in 10 said they opposed the war because it lacked “clear provocation and clear objectives.”

The survey also found that more than half of U.S. Jews say they are concerned that conducting the war jointly with Israel will “be a long-term problem prompting concerns about the role of Israel and American Jews in U.S. foreign policy.”

The results add complexity to the picture of American Jewish sentiment about the war. A poll released last week found that 61% of Americans overall oppose the war, suggesting that American Jews may be slightly more supportive overall — especially when considering that American Jews tend to vote Democratic.

Still, the new poll suggests that American Jews as a whole are less supportive than the “connected” American Jews surveyed regularly by Israel’s Jewish People Policy Institute. About two-thirds of that panel supported the war when surveyed during its first week, according to JPPI. Last week, that number was down to 62%, according to its latest results published on Sunday.

JPPI’s first survey of U.S. Jewish sentiment during the war drew criticism because it reflected the sentiments of a relatively narrow slice of American Jews. The institute says its polls reflect the sentiments of “connected” Jews because its panel, drawn from people with ties to American Jewish groups, includes fewer intermarried Jews, more Jews who are affiliated with denominations, more Orthodox Jews and more Jews who have lived in Israel than demographic data would suggest is representative of U.S Jewry overall.

The Mellman Group’s executive vice president, Michael Bloomfield, said in a statement that his poll’s results underscore the complexity of American Jewish sentiment about the war.

“American Jews are not monolithic. There can be difference, and in this case strongly held on both sides, with a middle group torn between mixed feelings,” he said in a statement. “In today’s political environment, partisanship is a very strong driver of views. That is true across the country across demographics, including American Jews.”