#kohanite

[hiddurmitzvah]

I made prints on colored papers and I love them a lot!

The symbols are from the collection I created during my research of the SchUM region, they are from tombstones and synagogues of Speyer, Worms and Mainz.

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

B'midbar Dvar Torah

'On the first day of the second month, in the second year following the exodus from the land of Egypt, the Eternal One spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting, saying: "Take a census of the whole Israelite company…" - Numbers 1:1-2' This week we read the first parashah in Numbers: B'midbar, which means 'In the Wilderness'. As summarised in the B'midbar 1:1-2, this parashah is one massive census. G-d commands Moses to take a census of all the Israelite males of the age of 20 – all who are able to go out to war in Israel. Arranged in their houses, a lot of counting goes on, and we learn the names and quantities of the men, who are assigned specific places in the camp around the Tabernacle. The Levites, not included in the census, have their duties detailed. They are tasked with carrying the Tabernacle and looking after all of its holy furnishings, being the ones to take it down and set it up whenever the camp moved. The unlucky sons of Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, get a posthumous mention. We learn that since they had no children, their roles are fulfilled by Eleazar and Ithamar, who minister in the priest's office in the presence of their father. G-d also instructs Moses and Aaron regarding the responsibilities of him and his sons, and the duties of the Kohanites. And that's about it. No big scenes of drama, as in the Exodus story. No real teachings that will shape the future of the Jewish people, as many of the parshiot in Leviticus. But what captured my imagination wasn't the content of the parashah as such, but its title: B'midbar. The wilderness. The Israelites are now wandering in the wilderness on their onwards quest for the land promised to them. At one point in the Book of Numbers, they exclaim that slavery is better than not having enough food or water. Trapped in a space of desperation, uncertainty, and desolation – this makes me wonder: why do the Jewish people's arguably most important years of spiritual challenge and growth take place 'in the wilderness?' The Talmud states that 'When one makes himself as the wilderness, which is free to all, the Torah is presented to him as a gift'. (Babylonian Talmud, N'darim 55a). What does it mean to literally become the wilderness? The wilderness is a place of enemies, danger, physical and mental torment. When I was 18, I was an alcoholic. I was jobless, and had left a transphobic school. I had no prospects, and I had ongoing mental health problems which were being neglected. I remember that moment, I was in my midbar. I knew there were mountains around me, and I could either find the strength to pass through them and to try and find a better future, or I could remain stuck, and spiral even further down. A short period of soul searching and heaving myself up by my bootstraps meant that I chose to live. I got an apprenticeship, I quit drinking as I got my life together, and now I'm here. Perhaps this is the journey the Rabbis mean? To overcome and persevere in your darkest moments – to identify the bad within yourself and make a change, to contribute towards society once again. Not only did the ancient Israelites receive the Torah in the wilderness, but from those moral and spiritual teachings and from struggling through the midbar for many years, they were able to form the basis of a nation and a society. Within the midbar of our lives, we are able to find emotional and spiritual growth. But the midbar wasn't just a one off occurrence. The Haftorah from Hosea (Hosea 2:1-2:22), is a cry against the idolatrous behaviour of Israel and a plea for them to return to the one G-d – behaviour other prophets have linked to the destruction of the First and Second Temples. However, even though Hosea used striking imagery to conjure up the image of Israel forsaking their lover, G-d, and proclaiming that they get their sustenance from Baal ('I will go after my lovers, who give me my bread and my water, my wool and my flax, my oil and my drink') – the haftorah ends on a surprisingly hopeful note. One of G-d bringing us back to Him, accepting our failing, and starting afresh: ('I will betroth you to me forever. Yes, I will betroth you to me in righteousness, in justice, in loving kindness and in compassion.') The combination of the parashah and the haftorah tells me a story. If we are in our midbar – our journey to whatever our promised land is, either to being a better person, pulling ourselves out of a depression or a spiritual crisis, or just overcoming the tribulations of life – G-d will not abandon us and actively wants us to return, to trust, and to become better people ourselves. Even though I still sometimes struggle with mental health problems, this is something that I can find solace in, and I hope you can, too.

[hiddurmitzvah]

This is a jewish tombstone

from a small hungarian village, Tuzsér. It is standing in the middle of litter, as the place of the jewish cemetery is nowadays used as a garbage dump.

When I found this place, I knew I should include it in the zine that we created on the Art of Abandoned Jewish Cemeteries of Hungary, since we wanted to raise attention to the sad state of jewish cemeteries of the country. As it is visible by the blessing hands symbol, this tombstone belongs to a kohanite person, who is a descendant just like all other kohanites, of the high priests of the Temple.

What we can read at the tombstone is just a short line, which says Here lies the elderly Yehuda, son of Cvi Ha-kohen, died in 1906.

This is how it ended up eventually in the Art of Abandoned Jewish Cemeteries zine, the symbol was reproduced with lino cut and the surrounding text explains the symbols and share a bit about the history of the community of Tuzsér:

If you wanna support our project to preserve the memory of the former jewish communities of the hungarian countryside along with the cemeteries themselves, you can order from the zine here:

[hiddurmitzvah]

The symbol of the Hands of the Kohanim, or Priestly Blessing (I never know for sure what name to use for this) probably don't need introduction.

The kohanite hands or blessing hands represents the movement by which the priest that once served in the temple of Jerusalem blessed the people of Israel, and by which kohanim bless members of the community in the synagogue to this day. The presence of blessing hands on the grave is a clear sign that the deceased was of kohen.

These blessing hands appeared on a very eroded tombstone in the Worms Jewish cemetery. The stone is inscribed exclusively in German,  which is a clear sign of the emancipation process of that time. The tombstone belongs to Isaac Mayer who lived from 1841 to 1884.