A Season of Miracles and Light

The holiday season always brings to mind the miracles surrounding us, even in the everyday things we might take for granted. Think about it: the electricity that powers our homes, the roads and cars that connect us to the world, the wonder of flight that lets us soar across continents, and the films and the internet that bring stories and people into our lives. And then there’s love—the most profound miracle of all—grounding us in peace and connection, whether at home or across the globe.

Reflecting on these modern miracles, I am reminded that they did not happen overnight. Behind every innovation were struggles, doubts, and an unwavering belief in the impossible. Perhaps that is why the miracles in my life feel even more profound—they came with challenges, making them all the more meaningful.

My Recent Miracles

Miracle 1: Finding a Home in Jerusalem

Israel has always felt like a second home to me, where my roots are intertwined with my ancestors’ rich history and faith. Over the years, my trips to Israel have transformed into spiritual journeys shaped by my studies at Shiviti and Simhat Shlomo—two Jewish institutions.

On my last trip in April, I searched for a place to live. This task proved challenging, especially with my limited budget and Jerusalem’s tricky rental market. There were moments of doubt when I wondered if I’d ever find a place that felt right. Then, I discovered a small, affordable apartment—not luxurious, but in a neighbourhood I love.

I vividly remember stepping into that apartment for the first time. The cool air carried a faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. The space was modest yet filled with natural light, and as I stood in the empty rooms, a quiet sense of peace enveloped me, almost as if the city were welcoming me home. The apartment is tranquil, just a short walk from the lively Emek Refaim Street, with its bustling shops, cafes, and the cinemas I enjoy.

Returning to Israel right after the Jewish Fall Holidays, I was determined to make this place my own. Over the next five weeks, I poured my heart into transforming that small apartment into a home. Each step—arranging furniture and hanging mezuzot on the doorways—deepened my connection to this land.

Miracle 2: Rediscovering the Streets of Jerusalem

Decades ago, as a student at Hebrew University, I wandered the streets of Jerusalem on foot. Back then, the city had a quieter, more intimate feel, and its narrow lanes seemed to whisper secrets from the past.

During my recent visits, I was struck by Jerusalem’s transformation. The quiet, small city I once knew has become a lively, modern metropolis. Buses, trains, and highways now integrate seamlessly into its historic surroundings, creating a vibrant atmosphere filled with traffic, construction, and the lively chatter of a diverse crowd.

Before the Six-Day War in 1967, Jews could not access the Western Wall or the Old City. Today, these sacred sites are open to everyone, and the city has expanded in ways I never imagined. Yaffo Street, once a simple route to the Old City, now features a sleek tram—a surreal contrast of modern elegance against ancient stones. Ben Yehuda Street, where I used to stroll as a student, has transformed into a bustling pedestrian mall filled with cafes, shops, and the constant buzz of city life.

I was particularly fascinated by Kikar Hamusika, a lovely square near Ben Yehuda that I stumbled upon for the first time. Drawn by the enchanting music of a violinist, I found myself surrounded by people chatting and laughing at nearby tables. In that moment, I felt the vibrant energy of the city—deeply connected to its history yet incredibly alive in the present.

Miracle 3: Reconnecting with Old Friends

The day after I arrived in Jerusalem, my brother-in-law, Shragai, called to tell me about a gathering at Barbara Friedman’s apartment. Barbara, a fellow Montrealer, had invited us to catch up, making it the perfect way to reintegrate into the city’s social scene.

As I entered her apartment, the scent of freshly baked challah enveloped me, along with the warmth of familiar faces and old friendships. One friend had even brought a guitar, and before long, we found ourselves singing together, including a delightful children’s song about Noah’s Ark. It was a sweet moment, especially since it was the Friday before Shabbat, a time for reflecting on the stories of our ancestors and the lessons they teach.

Surrounded by music and laughter, our lasting connections felt even more meaningful despite the years and distance that kept us apart. It was a beautiful reminder that some bonds, like tree roots, grow stronger over time, keeping us tied to the people and places we hold dear.

Miracle 4: Immersing in the European Cantors Convention in Budapest

On November 1st, I travelled from Israel to Hungary to attend the European Cantors Convention at the Rumbach Street Synagogue in Budapest. This place is special to me as it’s where my parents married during World War II. Being in that space, filled with personal and communal history, was incredibly moving.

The synagogue itself was a marvel—its walls steeped in history, yet echoing with the voices of the present. To capture the essence of the convention, I hired a local cameraman to document the event. It was an opportunity to listen to incredible cantors like Benny Meisels, Deborah Katcko-Grey, and Leah Frey Rabiner and reconnect with my family’s roots. With my cousins, I explored Budapest and uncovered our shared history, making this trip about more than just music—it was a journey into my family’s past.

Standing in the synagogue where my parents once stood, under the same ceiling that had witnessed so much joy and sorrow, I felt a deep connection to them and the generations before them. These interviews and experiences are the foundation of a documentary I’m working on about the convention. The event was filled with meaningful discussions and beautiful music; I can’t wait to share that with others.

Miracle 5: Rediscovering Our Family Heritage in Hungary

I had the opportunity to travel with Rachel, Tehila, her daughter, and Effy Fadida from Israel to the ancestral lands of our Hungarian Jewish forefathers. During our visit, we explored places like Tokay, Szabolcs, Kereztur, and Debrecen, accompanied by locals who helped us understand our family’s deep connections to these locations.

In Kereztur, we paid our respects at the resting place of Reb Shiele, a revered Hassidic Rebbe, and enjoyed kosher meals that felt like a link to our ancestors. The air was filled with the aroma of traditional Hungarian dishes, and as we gathered, the conversation flowed easily, full of stories of the past and hopes for the future. It was a meaningful experience to be in these places that still hold the echoes of our heritage, connecting us to a legacy of faith and community.

Our time in Tokay and Debrecen was remarkable. Visiting the Rebbe’s resting place at night felt almost dreamlike—a moment of quiet reflection after a day of exploring our roots. The stillness of the night, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant sound of a river, created an atmosphere of calm and peace. In Debrecen, we connected with relatives who survived the horrors of the Holocaust, their resilience serving as a strong reminder of the strength of our people. Our experience was even documented in the Hungarian Jewish Debrecen Community Bulletin, where I translated our visit into English.

Miracle 6: The Resilience of My Christmas Cactus

When I returned to Montreal, I was greeted by a small but significant miracle—my Christmas cactus was in full bloom. It had been cared for by a talented local plant expert while I was away, and seeing those bright blossoms felt like a symbol of hope and resilience. The vibrant pink flowers, standing against the gray of winter, were a reminder that life persists, even in the harshest conditions.

In a world that often feels dark, small lights—whether a blooming plant, a cherished friendship, or a connection to our heritage—remind us of the miracles surrounding us. Like the Maccabees, who overcame great odds, we can find strength and light in the most unexpected places.

As we move through this holiday season, may our homes be filled with peace, joy, and the warmth of these everyday miracles.

Am Yisrael chai—The People of Israel are alive! Am Yisrael thrives! And when Am Yisrael thrives, the world thrives!

Wishing you all a happy and meaningful holiday season.

With warmth,
Abigail

The Cantor’s Prayer

The Cantor, also known as the Chazan, plays a crucial role in the synagogue by representing the Jewish community’s voice in prayer. They express the congregation’s hopes and desires, enabling communication with the Divine. Rooted in ancient tradition, the Cantor’s role continues to evolve, remaining essential to the Jewish prayer experience through sacred melodies and meaningful words in the siddur.

The Evolution of Cantorial Music

The Jewish prayer experience is conveyed through the siddur, a prayer book containing a set sequence of prayers recited during religious services. Over the centuries, the siddur has developed, and each blessing is paired with traditional tunes that reflect various musical traditions. For example, European Cantors blend Hasidic, classical European, and operatic melodies to inspire worshippers.

Cantorial Influence in the United States

The United States has a rich history of Jewish cantorial services, notably enhanced by renowned figures like Leonard Bernstein and Arnold Schoenberg. In the early 1900s, these composers were commissioned to create music for synagogue services. After World War II, a participatory singing tradition emerged in U.S. synagogues, heavily influenced by folk music. Artists such as Shlomo Carlebach, Debbie Friedman, and Joey Weisenberg have further enriched this tradition.

A Prophetic Performance: Cantor Paul Heller’s Rendition

This rich tradition culminates in powerful performances like that of Cantor Paul Heller from Belsize Square Synagogue in London. At the European Cantors’ Convention open-mike concert, Cantor Heller delivers the traditional Unetaneh Tokef prayer, introducing it as especially fitting for the start of the new year (January 2020). In retrospect, his rendition takes on an eerily prophetic quality.

“As a shepherd seeketh out his flock and causeth each one to pass beneath his crook, so dost Thou G-d, review, number, and visit every living soul appointing the measure of every creature’s life and decreeing their destiny.”

During Rosh Hashanah, it is written, and on Yom Kippur, it is solemnly sealed.

“How many will die and how many will be born. Who will live and who will die. Who after a long life and who before his time. Who by fire and who by water. Who by sword and who by beast. Who by famine and who by plague. Who will be impoverished and who will be enriched. Who will be exalted, and who will be degraded…

But teshuva/reconsideration, tefillah/prayer, and tzedaka/righteous actions, have the potential to annul the severity of the decree.”

Notice how the audience instinctively joins in with the powerful and resounding refrain of teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedaka. This moment reminds us that our future depends not only on divine intervention but also on our actions—our willingness to reconsider, pray, and perform righteous deeds.

As Cantor Paul Heller performs the Unetaneh Tokef prayer, we are reminded of the enduring importance of Jewish prayer and its potential to inspire positive change. The repeated plea for teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedaka urges us to seek divine mercy and commit to self-reflection, prayer, and righteous actions. The Cantor’s voice, combined with the communal response, inspires hope and highlights that even in times of uncertainty, our fate is not solely determined by chance but also by our pursuit of goodness and justice. Ultimately, the Cantor’s role is to lead, unite, and inspire, reminding us that our actions can shape our destinies.

 

Music and the Cantorial Art

The connection between music and cantorial art is unbreakable. Cantorial music serves as a powerful tool for spiritual bonding, cultural identity, and artistic expression within the Jewish tradition. Over centuries, Jewish prayer services have developed a rich tapestry of melodies, chants, and singing techniques. This connection reveals how music can resonate deeply with the human mind and soul, illustrating the intricate relationship between artistry and neuroscience.

Recently, I listened to two fascinating CBC radio programs that explored music’s influence on our lives. One program focused on Frank Zappa’s groundbreaking compositions, while the other showcased Yo-Yo Ma’s moving performances. This exploration deepened my appreciation for music’s profound impact on our emotions, spirituality, and connection to cultural and religious traditions. It is evident that music is a universal language that connects with our humanity in profound and meaningful ways, from the melodic chants of the Torah to the powerful impact of Jewish music explored in Joey Weisenberg’s “The Torah of Music.”

Zappa’s Challenge

Frank Zappa effectively challenged the idea of strict musical rules. His talent for capturing the sounds of the 20th century in meaningful musical pieces resonated with the core of our existence. Even though I still need to become more familiar with his work, Zappa’s compositions unveiled a deep connection to the fabric of life. He once said, “If you believe there are rules to writing music that can’t be broken… you’re going to be a boring composer.”

Ma’s Melodic Comfort

Meanwhile, Yo-Yo Ma’s live cello performances during the pandemic emphasized music’s comforting and guiding role in navigating life’s transitions. As Ma played, the physical vibrations of sound became a palpable force, deeply resonating within us.

The Torah’s Melodic Chants

Music is a powerful art form that captures the essence of life through sound, emotion, nuance, and meaning. This significance is reflected in the Torah, where each word is accompanied by a specific musical score. When the Torah is chanted during congregational readings, the prescribed notation enhances the text’s meaning in a way that neither melody nor text alone can achieve. This underscores the inseparability of the Oral Torah and the written Torah, emphasizing the need to study and understand them together to gain complete clarity of meaning.

In his book, “The Torah of Music,” Joey Weisenberg comprehensively explores music’s role in Jewish culture.

“I wrote this book as a chizuk or strengthening of the spirit for musicians, community leaders, and others who, like myself, would like to learn more about the story of music as a Jewish spiritual practice and play some part in its unfolding narrative… I’ve found that singing has transcended barriers in the Jewish world, and increasingly outside of the Jewish world as well. Across all lines, music speaks and resonates and connects and deepens our human experience.

Music is a wordless prayer that opens up our imagination of the divine source of all life. Music, the most immaterial and ephemeral and yet most eternal of all the art forms, represents our connection to the Divine, to each other, to everything. We can’t see music, and we can’t grasp it in our hands, but yet we can feel it working through us and in the world. As our musical dreams go to work, we might similarly be able to imagine encountering the Divine “The Holy Blessedness that is over and above all blessings and songs.”¹

Immersing in Cantorial Artistry

My participation in the 2020 European Cantors’ Convention offered a unique opportunity to immerse myself in the rich tapestry of Jewish musical traditions. Organized by the Jewish Music Institute (JMI) in London, this event showcased the exceptional artistry of cantors and celebrated their contributions to the Jewish musical landscape.

During one tutorial led by Cantor Daniel Mutlu from Central Synagogue in Manhattan, he began with the phrase “es amo search shalom” (His nation he will bless with peace). The session seamlessly transitioned into the familiar hymn “l’cha dodi,” a respectful welcome to the Sabbath Queen. The Sabbath Queen is the feminine manifestation of God, Shechinah, and is an integral part of the Friday night service.

Svetlana Kurdish, a female cantor from Germany, presented a prayer at an open-mic concert that invoked divine protection from the perils of the night. This composition, created by the renowned choirmaster Louis Lewandowski for his Berlin synagogue in the 19th century, originally featured a choir and an organ. Although this piece may not be well-known or frequently performed today, its enduring beauty continues to captivate audiences.

In a concert commemorating International Holocaust Remembrance Day on January 26, 2020, Chazzan Asher Heinowitz from Yeshurun Synagogue in Jerusalem performed a Yiddish lullaby with great sensitivity and poignancy:

“Shlof-zhe mir shoyn, Yankele, mayn sheyner,
Sleep already, my Yankele, my pretty,
Di Eygelekh, di shvartsinke makh tsu,
the eyes, those darkish eyes. do close
A yingele vos hot shoyn ale tseyndelekh,
a little boy who already has all his teeth
Muz nokh di mame zingen ay-lyu-lyu?
the mother still has to sing ay-lyu-lyu
A yingele, vos hot shoyn ale tseyndelekh,
a little boy who already has all his teeth
Un vert mit mazl bald in kheyder geyn,
and with any luck will soon be going to heder-school
Un lernen vet er khumesh un gemoro,
and will be learning khumesh-bible and gemoro-talmud
Zol veynen ven di mame vigt im on?
Still cries when mother rocks his cradle
A yingele, vos lernen vet gemoro,
a little boy who will be soon learning  Humash and Gemoro – Bible and Talmud
Ot shteyt der tate, kvelt un hert zikh tsu,
as his father swells with pride listening to him recite
A yingele vos vakst a talmid khokhem
a little boy becoming a talmid khokhem-a clever student 
Lozt gantse nekht der mamen nisht tsuru?
Still does not leave his mother any peace all night.

Vel kosten noch fil Mame’s treeren
It will cost your mother still many a tear
Bis vonen felt a mensch arof fun dir
Before you will become a “mentsch” – an upstanding adult!”

Music is a powerful force that connects us to each other and the divine. It can unite cultural differences and lift our spirits. My experiences with Jewish musical traditions, particularly during the European Cantors’ Convention, have reminded me of this. Music brings together different aspects of our lives, providing comfort, inspiration, and a glimpse into the beauty of existence. Music speaks truths beyond language and logic through its melodies and harmonies, inviting us to listen deeply and embrace the symphony of life with open hearts and receptive souls.


Footnote:

  1. Weisenberg, Joey. The Torah of Music: A Guide to Jewish Spiritual Practice Through Music. 2021.