Wednesday, November 20 - Jewish Heritage in Rakovnik

As I tried to sleep last night, I felt like the rest of the trip would be nothing compared to yesterday at Terezin.  The emotion of the day, starting with the horrors of the camp itself, the reality that people actually thought this was a “destination” that Jews would want to go to, the fake Red Cross report that said the Jews were not being mistreated by the nazis, the artwork of the children who suffered horribly, and then the sounds of their voices coming through my music in the Attic Theatre is just to much to bear.  There is no way anything could top this.

And then today happened.

I will try to express all that today brought to us as a group and to me personally, because this was an intense and emotional day for us all.  For me, there will never be another day in my life quite like this one.

Even if I tried to replicate it, there will never be another day like today, November 20, 2024 in Rakovnik.

This may be an extremely long post, and I apologize for my long-winded explanations.  They are totally selfish as I try to hold onto what happened.

We boarded our bus early to make our way to Rakovnik, about an hour away from Prague.

First a little back story.  As I was planning this trip, one must stop for us was the small Czech town of Rakovnik.  You may not know this, but Temple Adat Elohim is closely connected to Rakovnik through our Holocaust Torah, who once lived in this town and was read by the Jewish community who lived here.  We know this Torah is at least 200 years old, based on estimates by scribes who have had a chance to take a close look at it.  One such scribe told us that he thought it was closer to 400 years old, which gets closer to when the Jewish community was first recorded being in this town, in the 15th century, according to our local historian. 

During World War 2, somehow the Torah scrolls in the ark at the local synagogue, 9 in total, were hidden away to try to keep them safe until after the war.  When they were discovered after the war and the horror of the Holocaust, along with almost 1600 other Czech scrolls, they were taken to London, to the Westminster Synagogue where a scribe carefully reassembled and repaired them, and a group called the Memorial Scrolls Trust was formed to manage these precious survivors of the Holocaust, because the hands that once held them were taken away from their homes and communities, murdered, and their souls ascended along with their ashes through the chimneys of the crematorium.  The Memorial Scrolls Trust have entrusted these scrolls to communities all over the world to keep them safe in the hope, that one day, the original communities might need them again.  

Temple Adat Elohim was granted the responsibility of caring for scroll #60, from a small Czech town called Rakovnik.  As soon as I learned about this town when I got to TAE 18 years ago, I knew one day I would have to walk her streets and see her synagogue, and symbolically take our Torah back home again.

When I was planning this trip I had tried to find a way to actually bring our scroll with us, but it was simply impossible with insurance and travel issues.  Instead, I took about 40 photos of our scroll and I brought those with me to read from in the synagogue.

I feel a special connection to our Holocaust scroll from Rakovnik.  Each and every bar/bat/bet mitzvah student is handed this Torah through the generations of their lives as they become adults in our community.  On Yom Kippur, we open and read this scroll for the community.  Whenever I teach anything Torah related, this is the scroll I use.  I love to show the fact that the scroll is actually 3 different scrolls carefully put together again by the scribe in London, with the largest piece being from Rakovnik.  I love to show the differences in the calligraphy, the holes that were repaired after the war, the uniqueness of this scroll, the damage to the parchment after years of mistreatment.  There is such history in it, and I try to make sure our students feel that history as they take hold of it for the first time.  I reference their own Holocaust twin, a program where our students symbolically share their becoming bar/bat/bet mitzvah with a child who died during the Holocaust before they could read from a Torah.  It was that twin that sparked Serena Tobias to research more because her son was twinned with a small boy from Rakovnik.  

We arrived into this small town and got off the bus to a beautiful, bright and sunshiny day.  It’s strange, I had thought that coming here would feel sad, that we would feel the weight of the Jewish lives lost here during the war, a town where those who were not exterminated by the nazis and somehow managed to survive the war changed their identities and renounced their Judaism.  But instead, there was great joy in coming here.  We all felt it.  There was this sense of coming home, of bringing the Jewish community back to a town that hasn’t had a true Jewish presence since the last deportation to the death camps.  

Today, Rakovnik is a town of almost 16,000 people.  16,000 people who have never had a large bus filled with American tourists walking her streets, cameras pointing in every direction.  We could tell by the stares we were getting this was not an ordinary day for them.

Camilla with our local educator pictured above.

By the 19th century, there were a total of up to 5,000 people living in this small agricultural town, and by 1900 there were 350 Jews living in Rakovnik.  When the war broke out only 150 Jews were here, with 120 of them being sent to their deaths (and the survivors changing their identities).  There are no Jews left in Rakovnik and there have been no Jews here since World War 2.

Our local historian took us through the town square and into the Gothic church.

We walked around and saw a mosaic art piece on the outside wall of the church that was made with tiles from Rakovnik.  It was beautiful.

We then made our way towards the synagogue, stopping at the memorial plaque dedicated to the Jews of Rakovnik who were victims of the Holocaust.  The plaque is located by the archway that led to the Jewish ghetto.  

The Jews were forced to live in this ghetto from the 17th century all the way to the middle of the 19th century, when most moved to the town square when the living restrictions lifted.  In the ghetto there were only 7 structures, with a few still standing for us to see.

We then made our way to the synagogue in Rakovnik, which was built in 1763 - 1764.  I have to say seeing this in person was incredibly moving.  Thanks to Serena Tobias, TAE’s own Rakovnik historian, I have seen this place in photos before.  To be here in person is indescribable.  There were many in our group that were thinking of Serena.  Thank you, Serena, for introducing us to this town and for strengthening our connection to her.

Since the 1980’s the synagogue has been used as a concert hall, with the city maintaining the original synagogue as a way of preserving the memory of the Jewish community that once prayed inside these walls.

We learned that there was only one major renovation in 1865 when they moved the bima from the center of the room to the eastern end of the room as it appears today.  Everything here is original.

I asked if it would be possible for me to place some photos of our Torah into the ark as a way of bringing our scroll back home again.  I was told by the staff that I couldn’t because the ark is damaged.  They showed me the sign on each door that said we were not allowed to open the ark.  You can see those signed taped to the ark doors in the photo above.

Our local historian gave me a gift that is the last known photo of our Torah inside the ark at the synagogue, dating back to 1913.  This photo shows at least 7 Torahs in the ark and is a stunning reminder of what once lived in this sanctuary, of the people who would hold onto it both physically and spiritually and carry it forward from one generation to another until it was halted by unthinkable acts that defy every lesson of the very scroll they were trying to destroy.  I will frame this photo for all of TAE to be able to see and bear witness.

We met the mayor of Rakovnik, Ludek Stibr who wanted to greet our group personally.  He shared through Camilla acting as a translator that they try to preserve all of the historical buildings for the future, and they take pride in maintaining this synagogue.  This was an important statement for us to hear.  We all could imagine that they would make changes to the building to suit today’s needs, maybe to cover up what was lost, the pain of what happened here.  But instead, they preserve the memory.  We learned that this is the location where all high school seniors receive their diplomas after graduating high school.  

The mayor concluded by telling us he hoped our visit brings us meaning.  He had no idea just how meaningful it would be.  I thanked him on behalf of our traveling group and gave him one of the photos I brought of the scroll that once lived in the ark behind us.  He thanked me and told us he would frame this and place it in his office in city hall to always remember.  That was a touching moment.  While I could not put the photos in the ark as I had hoped, knowing he would display this in his office for all to see was enough.  A piece of our Torah would be home in Rakovnik once again.

It was so emotional to be here, in this space, in a moment I had anticipated for so many years.  This was one of the moments I was looking forward to the most, the chance to bring prayer back into this synagogue, surrounded by 34 dear friends.  Together we stood where Hitler’s life ended.  Together we stood on the tracks where countless Jews were sent to their death.  Together we walked the horrible walk of Terezin.  And together we would bring Judaism back to Rakovnik in memory of those who were no more, and on behalf of the entire Temple Adat Elohim community.  

Yesterday the Shema was transformed for us by singing it in the Hidden Synagogue in Terezin and today, it would be transformed again by singing it together in the synagogue in Rakovnik.

As we were just about to start, one of our travelers and a dear friend Harold Gordon walked up onto the bima and asked Leasa and me to join him.

He began to speak.  The words he shared about me were so touching and meaningful.  To be honest it was a little difficult to listen to him talk about me in such high regard, I hardly felt worthy of his words.  What he said that meant the most was the impact I had on so many of the children of TAE, an impact that will last a long time.  The tears began to well up in my eyes.  It was not the first time this would happen on this trip, and not the last time it would happen on this day.

He expressed that he remembers some of the words I spoke at the place where Hitler ended his life, that bunker that is now a dirt parking lot, and how I had talked about our Holocaust Torah and how, with each and every student that held onto it at TAE, they were making a statement that Hitler lost, that we were still here.  He said the very fact that we were standing in this synagogue is a statement that Hitler lost and we are still here.  And he thought that it would be appropriate for me to read from the photos of our Torah using a special Yad that he and Marcia got on behalf of our entire traveling group.  This Yad was made from a small branch from a tree that has been growing on the very site of Hitler’s demise.  

He called this the “Yad of Defiance.”

More tears streamed down my face as I listened to his words, grateful that there were people recording this so I could go back and hear them again and again.  

Harold then said that he knew that my dream was to bring our Torah from Thousand Oaks and read from it here, but that was impossible, so instead, he had the special gift of this “Yad of Defiance” placed in the ark.  And he and Leasa were going to carefully open the ark doors so I could take that Yad out to the ark, from the place where our Torah once lived, and use it to read from the photos I brought.

At this point I was almost sobbing at the beauty of his words, the meaning of the Yad, and the power of taking that out of this ark.  To me this was the ultimate act of defiance against everything that Hitler stood for.

Harold and Leasa went to each side of the ark.

By the way, as I write this, I am feeling the same emotion I felt as this was happening.

They slowly open the ark doors and my breath was taken away.  There was a moment of total silence as I tried to comprehend what was in front of me.  I saw a familiar outline, but couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening.  Leasa gassped and asked, “Is this ours?” 

Slowly, the realization of what was happening hit me and I collapsed and wept at the reality.

In front of me was our Holocaust Torah.

Somehow she came home.

Wearing her familiar cover, so beautifully designed to represent the people crossing the Sea of Reeds to freedom.  I brushed my hand down the front of the cover, feeling the weight of the moment.  I lifted the cover slightly to confirm it was actually the scroll I know so well.  And instantly I could tell it was really here, back home where she belongs.  I don’t remember how long I sobbed and wept into her cover, collapsed into the ark that held this scroll for so many years.  

The cover tells the story of the Jews crossing the sea to freedom, this scroll represents the Jews that were not able to make that journey, and here we were, bringing this Torah home again in their memory.  The tears flow now as I write.

I slowly pick up our Torah, a scroll we share with the memory of the Rakovnik Jews and turned around to face my community.  There was silence and weeping and disbelief.  Only a few people knew what was coming, so this was a surprise for us all.  

I knew it shouldn’t be only me holding this Torah in this space, so we handed it from person to person, each getting their photo with our scroll in her original home, having a personal moment holding onto both the teaching and the history this scroll holds.  I started with Harold, who had initiated the incredible plan to make this happen 9 months ago.  I hope that everyone found as much meaning as I did holding, hugging, clinging to this Torah.

As each person held the scroll I carefully placed all of the photos I brought of our Torah into the Ark in order to leave a piece of the scroll behind in its original home.  I also brought a memorial page of the known children of Terezin who would have read from this scroll had their lives not ended as a part of the nazi Holocaust.

We took a group photo with all of us and our scroll.  It was a feeling that we had succeeded in our goal of bringing her home again.

We then began our service, which was filled with so much joy, so much meaning.  We got to the Shema and I mentioned yesterday’s moment in the Hidden Synagogue and how powerful that was.  And as we sang and prayed in this space I tried to make eye contact once again with everyone there to really feel the moment.  It was a moment I will always remember and hold so close to my heart.  To fill that space with the holiest of Jewish prayers was something to behold.

And then came for the time for me to read from the very scroll that was once read and studied here.  Today was really not a Torah reading day, and I chose to read the passage that contains the Shema and the first part of the V’ahavta.  It felt fitting to chant these words on this day in this synagogue.  It was no longer a concert hall.  We had made it a synagogue once again.  

I brought my grandfather’s tallit with me on the trip for this very moment, to feel his spiritual hug as I chanted these sacred words.  This is the same tallit I wear each and every time I have the honor of chanting Kol Nidrei, as I know how meaningful it would have been for my grandparents to hear me chant these words.  I picked up the Yad of Defiance and felt the power of that stick in my hand as I began to chant.  I will never chant from the Torah in the same way again.  This moment has changed me forever.

Following the reading I lifted the Torah so everyone could see where two different scrolls were sown together by the scribe in London.  Another meaningful moment.

Following our service where we ended with a moment of memory for the Jews of Rakovnik who were murdered, including the children who’s names I placed into the Ark with the photos, we began the process of repacking our Torah for her journey away from her home back to her second home in Thousand Oaks.

The group asked me to offer a blessing for our scroll as she journeys back to Temple Adat Elohim.

On the bus ride back to Prague, Harold told the 20 minute story of how this situation unfolded, and all of the hoops he had to jump through to make this happen, including working directly with the Memorial Scrolls Trust who needed to grant permission and sign off on the shipping process.  Harold says he will not exhale until he knows our scroll is back home in our ark at TAE once again.  I can only thank him, and the rest of our group for giving me the most special gift possible.  One statement I made at our first meeting about this trip led to our Torah magically appearing in the ark at the synagogue in Rakovnik, and I will always be grateful I had the chance to fulfill my dream of reading from THIS scroll in THIS place.

Baruch Ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, shehechianu, v’kiamanu, v’higianu lazman hazeh.

I cannot believe I was able to live this moment, a moment I will never forget.