September 25, 2026
On Yom Kippur afternoon, I learned a new lesson about Jewish life and what it means to be Jewish. After spending time this past year trying to learn and study more about Jewish life under Communism, I decided that it was important to be sure those stories get told. Who better to tell those stories than members of our Beth Tikvah family who lived these experiences firsthand? I invited those members to be part of a panel on Yom Kippur afternoon which, we called Lights from Behind the Iron Curtain. Isabella Tabarovsky’s scholarship as well as her new book Be a Refusenik, along with a collection of post-Holocaust short stories from the former Soviet Union originally published in Yiddish entitled, In the Shadow of the Holocaust, inspired me to realize that this is a Jewish story which is often undertold.
For many of us living in America, it is hard to imagine what Jewish life is like anywhere else. Our connections to Judaism are largely defined by membership in a synagogue. In other instances, it is defined by membership at a JCC, attendance at Jewish summer camp, or perhaps even a connection to some form of Israel advocacy. As I sat listening to our congregants share their stories, I could not help but wonder if Jewish life in America today was largely shaped by the prevalence of houses of worship. In early America, these were largely Christian houses of worship. Synagogues then became the center of Jewish community. Jewish life in America has largely become defined by religion. When Pew studies reference “Jews of no religion,” they often do so from a pejorative viewpoint, indicating that such individuals are outside the traditional framework of Jewish life. Perhaps they are not. So many of us struggle with religion, a belief in God, or traditional Jewish practice. It does not mean that such a person is outside of the Jewish space.
One of the things I learned from our panel was that “Jew” was placed on their identity card as an ethnicity. The Soviet Union did not allow for religion, but they also tried to recognize that it was a place that every ethnicity could be recognized. While antisemitism was not state-ordained, there was rampant antisemitism in the Soviet Union. (Soviet anti-Zionism needs to be the subject of another reflection.) Every one of our panelists discussed their own experiences with antisemitism but maintained their own Jewish pride nonetheless. Our panelists had little connection to Judaism as a religion and were not familiar with many of our religious customs, but they knew they were Jewish. Their parents passed down Jewish culture through foods and stories. They might have gotten kosher food on occasion, and sometimes matzah was flown in from Israel, or they baked their own. They could get Israeli radio, the Voice of Israel. As a Refusenik, Valia Bergelson taught Hebrew without any materials.
After advocating for Soviet Jews to be freed, American Jews opened doors to welcome them in but perhaps we expected them to conform to the institutions we had previously established. Did we consider that they had little experience with religion? They joined Jewish communal institutions because that is where the community was, but did we really ever ask them about their Jewish identity or their experiences? I am concerned that many of these stories have never been told. My conversation on Monday afternoon with Valia and Vitaly Bergelson, Yulia and Mark Bar, Inna and Polina Litvak, and Adam Major really needs to be a first step in sharing such stories. There is so much more we can learn.
As I was reflecting on their stories and their lessons, I had Dara Horn’s definition of who Jews are floating in the back of my head. She explains that “Jews are a joinable tribe with a shared history, homeland, and culture. In a word, we are an am, a people.” The stories they shared are part of who we are as a people. We cannot limit ourselves to a narrow understanding of Judaism as a religion, though our religion is part of what we share.
This places a profound challenge on all of us to really think about what Jewish life will look like going forward. We must continue observing our holidays and Jewish rituals, but how is it that we can reclaim the seeds of our history, homeland, and culture that define who we are? We need to remember we are citizens of the Jewish people who have something to inherit and something to pass on.
At the conclusion of the session, I asked our panel to share one lesson or message they would want us to take away from their stories and experiences. They shared with us the following:
“Don’t be afraid to be a proud Jew.”
“If we want our children to know who they are, we have to do something about it.”
Let these messages dwell in our hearts. During the holiday of Sukkot, it is our tradition to invite ushpizin, guests, into our sukkah. Let these members of our community be your ushpizin by watching the conversation. Our congregants share an important part of who they are. May we be strengthened by their stories.
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach,
Rabbi Rick Kellner