Featuring Toba Feldman

Toba Feldman has always been guided by principle. She is a person who pauses before agreeing, who asks what lies beneath an assumption, and who is more interested in consequences than consensus. She values clarity over charm and substance over ease.

“You can do anything,” she said. “But the more important question is, should you do it?” For Toba, thinking carefully is not optional. It is a responsibility. “Another key element of that question is, can you accept the consequences?” she added. “Most people, particularly today, do not accept responsibility, accountability, or consequences.” That distinction — not what is allowed, but what is right — has shaped how she has lived her life.

Toba grew up in a household molded by intelligence and curiosity. Her family history carries the imprint of immigration and incomplete records. “My mother came over with her parents in 1921,” she explained. “She was maybe almost a year old, so I’m the first American citizen.” On her father’s side, the story stretches back to Eastern Europe, though some details were lost. “We have very little information about his father actually,” she said. From both what was known and what was missing came a household that cherished knowledge, questioning, and imagination.

The influence of Toba’s mother still lives on in her home, not only through family stories, but through the objects she passed down. An array of art pieces hang on the walls, chosen carefully and filled with meaning. They reflect attention to words, ideas, and wit. One piece showcases an Einstein quote: “Logic will get you from A to Z. Imagination will get you everywhere.” A cross-stitch piece displaying the Ten Commandments reads: “Rx Take two tablets daily.”

Toba followed her own path into newspaper reporting, law, and later into the classroom. Each demanded the same discipline. Words mattered. Precision mattered.

“Be concise and be precise with what you write,” she said. “Know who your audience is and write to them.” For her, legal thinking was not about memorizing rules, but about judgment. “In most cases, you’re working with gray areas,” she explained. What matters most is intent, and understanding what you’re trying to accomplish before deciding how to proceed.

Toba has never limited her thinking to a single field. She has written many articles and columns throughout her lifetime. She interviewed public figures and asked difficult questions. She has written letters to countless editors, continuing a lifelong habit of engaging the world through ideas, because when something needs to be said, she believes it should be said clearly.

That engagement extends beyond public discourse. Toba has long rejected the notion that science and faith exist in opposition. “I never thought there was a conflict between science and faith,” she wrote in an essay. “It is not faith versus science. It is faith and science. It is values and knowledge.” For her, science explains how the world works; faith explains how we should live within it.

Judaism, for Toba, is not performative. It is ethical, historical, and demanding. She notices patterns. She draws connections. She remembers. She kept a letter her mother wrote to a Dayton editor in 1973 defending Israel. At the time, her mother was responding to global criticism of Israel during the Yom Kippur War. Toba still remembers her words. “Nobody’s talked about this,” while other countries had not been similarly criticized. Noticing what is missing from the conversation became part of how Toba learned to think.

She does not soften her edges. She does not apologize for thinking deeply or speaking plainly. She knows some failures are inevitable. That perspective has guided her as she has navigated life’s complexities, asking not just what is possible, but what responsibility demands.

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Toba Feldman was interviewed on January 28, 2026 by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr

Written by Hannah Karr

Director of Marketing & Community Engagement

Congregation Beth Tikvah

The Carob Tree Project is an initiative at Congregation Beth Tikvah designed to preserve the life stories, wisdom, and experiences of longtime congregants so their voices continue to guide the community long into the future.

This project was started by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr, inspired by a story in the Talmud about Honi the Circle Maker. When asked why he is planting a tree that will take decades to bear fruit, he explains that just as others planted for him, he plants for the generations who will come after him. The lesson is about legacy, continuity, and responsibility across generations.

In that spirit, the Carob Tree Project focuses on members of the congregation whose lives hold deep experience, reflection, and perspective. Through recorded interviews, participants are invited to share memories, formative moments, values, and lessons learned.

These interviews are video or audio recorded and saved, ensuring that their stories become a lasting resource for the community. Written profiles are then created from the interviews so that the insights and voices of these individuals can be shared more widely within the congregation.

The goal is not simply to document history. It is to capture the human insight behind a life lived — the ideas, questions, and experiences that can nurture future generations. Just like the carob tree in the Talmudic story, the project recognizes that the fruits of a person’s life often extend far beyond their own lifetime.

In this way, the Carob Tree Project becomes both an archive and a teaching tool: a living collection of stories that remind the community how wisdom is passed forward — one voice, one memory, and one life at a time.

Reflections by Morissa Freiberg-Vance, RJE

I deeply believe that strong Jewish education begins with educators who are continously learning. If we want our students to grow, we have to model that growth ourselves. This winter has been filled with meaningful professional development, for me personally, and for our teaching team!

The Tzedek America Impact Fellowship

I am honored to share that I was recently accepted into the Tzedek America Rabbi Emily Feigelson Impact Fellowship. This national fellowship brings together Jewish professionals who are committed to strengthening Jewish identity, leadership, and civic responsibility through social-action based learning. Tzedek America aims to equip Jewish educators with the tools and knowledge to guide middle and high school students through educational social justice experiences.

This opportunity allows me to think deeper about our already-existing teen social action programming, particularly B’Yachad (8th grade) and Mitzvah Corps (11th/12th grade), and how we can expand on these already successful components of our Teen Program.

The fellowship consists of three webinars, culminating with a trip to Los Angeles in June to help staff a Tzedek America program and put our learning into action.

Yamim: Learning with Colleagues Across Columbus

Rabbi Karen and I had the opportunity to participate in Yamim 2026 through M2: The Institute for Experiential Jewish Education (IEJE), alongside colleagues from across the Columbus Jewish community. Yamim is a day-long professional development lab that invites Jewish professionals to explore Israel through its clarifying visions and complicated crossroads, and to design meaningful, values-driven learning experiences for their communities.

This program focused on experiential ways of connecting with Zionist thinkers, in relationship to the upcoming Yamim, Yom HaZikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut. It challenged us to think not just about what we teach, but how we create lessons about Israel that students truly feel and remember.

Learning shoulder-to-shoulder with other Columbus educators and synagogue professionals was incredibly meaningful. There is something powerful about stepping out of the day-to-day and being reminded that we are part of a larger network of Jewish professionals working toward the same goal: raising knowledgeable, proud, engaged Jewish young people with a deep love for Israel.

Thank you to JewishColumbus for hosting this amazing training!

Strengthening Our Classrooms: Inclusion & Classroom Management

Closer to home, our teachers recently engaged in professional development with Hanna Fotsch, Director of Community Inclusion at JewishColumbus. Hanna first spent time observing in our classrooms, which allowed the training to be tailored specifically to our students and our teachers.

The workshop focused on practical, research-based classroom management strategies rooted in compassion, structure, and relationship-building.

Teachers reflected honestly on their hardest classroom moments and explored what Hanna called “The Big Three.”

• Action – incorporating movement and micro-breaks to support engagement
• Interaction – structured peer learning and social connection
• Structure – clear routines that set students up for success

What I appreciated most was the emphasis on seeing behavior through a compassionate lens. We discussed validating feelings (without validating harmful behaviors), using restorative and reflective consequences, and remembering that behavior is often a skill deficit, not defiance.

Our teachers left with tangible strategies they could implement immediately in their classrooms, including clear entry tasks, consistent attention signals, restorative conversations, and simple in-the-moment de-escalation tools. Perhaps most importantly, the training reinforced that small, intentional adjustments can reduce stress for teachers while creating calmer, more inclusive classrooms for students.

Professional learning is not an “extra” for us—it is a core value in our program at Beth Tikvah. I feel incredibly grateful to work alongside clergy and teachers who are so committed to growing in their practice. When we invest in our educators, we invest directly in our children.

I look forward to continuing to share how this learning shapes our school!

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Morissa R. Freiberg, RJE has served as Director of Education & Lifelong Learning at Congregation Beth Tikvah since 2012.

Reflections by Rabbi Karen Martin

Published in the March 2026 issue of Tikvah Topics

Spring and All: III [The farmer deep in thought] By William Carlos Williams

The farmer in deep thought

is pacing through the rain

among his blank fields, with

hands in pockets,

in his head

the harvest already planted.

A cold wind ruffles the water

among the browned weeds.

On all sides

the world rolls coldly away:

black orchards

darkened by the March clouds —

leaving room for thought.

Down past the brushwood

bristling by

the rainsluiced wagonroad

looms the artist figure of

the farmer — composing

— antagonist.

We are given this image of the farmer rising before dawn on the cusp of spring, alone with his thoughts in the pouring rain. The land is a blank canvas; the farmer, an artist poised with his brush. The poem reads like a cold, moody, almost oppressive idyll until we reach the final line, the final word: “antagonist.” Looking back, the hints are there: our farmer/artist “bristling” and “looming” over this act of creation.

In William’s poem, creation and cultivation become a threat—an act of destruction that pits the farmer against the land. I find myself asking: What is being destroyed? The fields are blank, or blanketed by brown weeds. The orchards are black. Darkness, wind, and water converge, and I cannot help but hear this echo:

וְהָאָ֗רֶץ הָיְתָ֥ה תֹ֙הוּ֙ וָבֹ֔הוּ וְחֹ֖שֶׁךְ עַל־פְּנֵ֣י תְה֑וֹם וְר֣וּחַ אֱלֹהִ֔ים מְרַחֶ֖פֶת עַל־פְּנֵ֥י הַמָּֽיִם׃

The earth was unformed wastes, and darkness was upon the deeps, and the wind of God stretched out over the waters.

Like our unnamed farmer, we are taught that God’s act of primal creation was intentional.

In Proverbs 3:19, we read:

יְֽהֹוָ֗ה בְּחׇכְמָ֥ה יָסַד־אָ֑רֶץ כּוֹנֵ֥ן

שָׁ֝מַ֗יִם בִּתְבוּנָֽה׃

God founded the earth by wisdom

And established the heavens by understanding.

Creation, we are told, was not haphazard but deliberate, just as the farmer plans out his fields and orchards. In Bereshit Rabbah, a book of midrash—rabbinic discourses, stories, and law derived from the words of Torah and Jewish texts—our rabbis build on this idea of intentional creation. They teach that even before the world was created, God created Torah. Proverbs 8:30 tells us that Wisdom (understood by the rabbis as Torah), was with God at creation as an amon. “What’s an amon?” the rabbis ask. They suggest Wisdom was a caretaker, a nurse, and finally, they suggest that Wisdom was with God as an artisan, declaring, “I was the tool of craft for the Holy One, Blessed Be He,” Later, in Bereshit Rabbah 1:4, we read that Israel, who would receive the Torah, was already conceived before the creation of the world.

Despite this idea of careful planning, Bereshit Rabbah also tells us that the angels questioned whether the creation of humanity was wise. In Bereshit Rabbah 8:1, when God consulted the ministering angels of Mercy, Truth, Righteousness, Peace, they broke into factions and argued in favor (Mercy and Righteousness) or against (Truth and Peace) humanity’s creation. While they were busy arguing, God created humanity. There are days, I imagine, when we all have such debates. Yet because of our capacity for Mercy and Righteousness, we’re told, God created us.

Still, the poem’s darkness and the farmer’s antagonistic presence loom. To plant, we must first break and turn the soil creating a soft place for seeds to take root.

In Angela Buchdahl’s memoir, Heart of a Stranger, she reflects on the Hebrew word mashber, meaning crisis, which uses the three-letter root שבר—“to shatter” or “to break.” In Middle Hebrew, the word referred to a ‘birthing stool.’ In Biblical Hebrew, mashber was associated with ‘birth’—the opening or breaking of the womb. From this, Rabbi Buchdahl teaches us that crisis—shattering—can lead us to renewal, if we can summon the strength to push through.

In language that feels both simple and surprising, Williams conveys an astonishing depth, demanding much of his readers. That is not to say that he consciously intended these echoes; as readers, we inevitably bring our own lenses to the work and to the process of meaning-making.

As we stand on the cusp of spring, with March rains nearly upon us, what are we creating? And what must be broken to make way for the season’s renewal?

Celebrating Purim

Purim is one of Judaism’s most joyful holidays. At its heart is a story of courage and survival that has resonated with Jews for centuries.

In Reform Judaism, Purim is both a time to rejoice and a moment to reflect on what it means to stand for justice, generosity, and community.

The Story, the Scroll, & the Spiel

The Purim Story

Purim commemorates the events told in M’gillat Esther (the Book of Esther), set in ancient Persia. The story follows Queen Esther and her cousin Mordechai as they courageously thwart a plot by Haman, the king’s advisor, to destroy the Jewish people. Through careful timing, bravery, and advocacy, Esther risks everything to protect her community.

Uniquely, God’s name never appears in the text. Many Reform commentators understand this absence as intentional; a reminder that redemption can emerge through human courage and moral action, even when the Divine presence feels hidden or unspoken.

Reading the Megillah

A central mitzvah of Purim is the public reading of M’gillat Esther. Reform congregations often hold lively readings in the synagogue on Purim. Each time Haman’s name is spoken, the congregation—especially children—erupts with groggers and noise to “drown it out,” symbolically erasing his legacy of hate and harm. The result is a reading that is participatory, energetic, and deeply communal.

The Purim Spiel

Many communities bring the story to life through a Purim Spiel, a humorous, theatrical retelling of the Purim narrative. Spiels range from classic parodies to creative, contemporary interpretations that explore themes of resilience and community. By blending laughter with meaning, spiels make the story accessible to all ages and remain a beloved highlight of Purim celebrations. Join Beth Tikvah for our Purim Spiel and Dinner on Monday, March 2, 2026!

Food, Gifts, & the Four Mitzvot

Hamantaschen & Delicious Traditions

No Purim celebration is complete without hamantaschen, the iconic triangular pastries filled with poppy seed, fruit, chocolate, or other sweet fillings. Their shape is often associated with Haman and offers a playful, symbolic way of “defeating” him through joy and sweetness.

Purim is marked by festive eating and drinking, reflecting the holiday’s emphasis on celebration and abundance. Across Jewish communities around the world, Purim foods vary widely, highlighting the rich diversity of Jewish cultures and culinary traditions.

The Four Mitzvot of Purim

Jewish tradition identifies four central mitzvot that shape how we observe Purim:

• Hearing the Megillah – so the story is told and retold
• Mishloach Manot – sending gifts of food to friends and neighbors
• Matanot La’Evyonim – giving gifts to those in need
• Se’udat Purim – enjoying a festive meal

Together, these practices ensure that Purim’s joy is a shared experience, woven with generosity, care, and inclusion.

Mishloach Manot & Gifts of Care

Sending mishloach manot strengthens communal bonds and reminds us that celebration is sweeter when shared. Matanot la’evyonim centers those who might otherwise be overlooked, ensuring that everyone can experience Purim with dignity. Reform jews often elevate this mitzvah through organized tzedakah efforts that place compassion at the heart of the holiday.

Symbols & Meaning

Esther, Hadassah, & Hiddenness

Esther’s Hebrew name, Hadassah, remains hidden beneath her Persian name, a reflection of one of Purim’s central themes. Just as Esther conceals her identity before revealing it at a critical moment, the absence of God’s name in the text underscores the idea that holiness and redemption often work quietly, through human choice and courage. Reform thinkers frequently point to this hiddenness as a call to recognize the sacred power of ethical action.

Costumes, Celebration, & Reversal

Costumes are a joyful hallmark of Purim, embodying the holiday’s themes of disguise and reversal. On Purim, roles shift, expectations are upended, and hidden truths come to light. Dressing up invites us to play, but also to reflect: Who holds power? Who finds their voice? And how do we choose to show up when it matters most?

Music, dancing, and festive songs add to Purim’s vibrant energy, especially during megillah readings and spiels. Through sound and movement, joy becomes collective, echoing the holiday’s message that survival and celebration are communal acts.

Click here for the URJ’s list of Purim media and resources.

Click here for PJ Library’s Purim resources for family with young children.

Joy with Purpose

Purim asks us to laugh loudly and give generously; to tell the story again and again until it becomes part of who we are. It reminds us that joy can be a form of resistance and that even in uncertain times, courage often arrives disguised as ordinary people doing the right thing.

May we celebrate boldly and carry the spirit of Purim beyond this special day! We hope to see you at the 2026 Allison Senser Community Purim Festival on March 1 and the Beth Tikvah Purim Dinner & Spiel on March 2!

Sources & Further Reading:

Jewish Women’s Archive. “Esther: Bible.”

My Jewish Learning. “Purim in the Community.”

My Jewish Learning. “The Four Mitzvot of Purim.”

My Jewish Learning. “Purim Foods.”

Union for Reform Judaism. “Purim Resources for Congregations to Use.”

Union for Reform Judaism. ” Purim: Customs and Rituals.”

Union for Reform Judaism. “Purim.”

Sefaria Library. “Esther 1:1.”

PJ Library. “Celebrating Purim with Your Family.”

Writing & Research by Hannah Karr

Director of Marketing & Community Engagement at Congregation Beth Tikvah

February 19, 2026

February 4, 2026

Members since 1978, Karen and Steve Heiser have watched their children grow up at Beth Tikvah, participating in youth programs and developing strong Jewish identities rooted in compassion and civic responsibility.

Now, with the creation of their Teen Allies for Justice Endowment through the Beth Tikvah Legacy Program, the Heiser’s are supporting the next generation of Jewish leaders.

“For both of us, social justice has been a passion since adolescence,” Karen explained. For Steve, the connection between Jewish values and this work is deeply personal. “One of the things I love about Judaism is how it looks at the world,” he said. “Tikkun Olam [repairing the world] has always been one of my guideposts.”

From witnessing racial injustice as a high school senior in Columbus to mentoring medical professionals on equity and advocacy at Nationwide Children’s Hospital, Karen has spent decades helping others use their voices to create change. “Everyone knows the value of advocacy, but not everyone knows how to be a strong advocate,” she said. “Whatever your passion is, you need to learn about that issue and have the skillset to enable your voice to be heard.”

The Teen Allies for Justice Endowment is meant to support programming that provides Beth Tikvah teens with both educational grounding and real-life practice in advocacy through mentorship, community engagement, and skill-building opportunities.

“Think about how powerful it is for an 18-year-old to start advocating for older adults in their community,” Karen shared. “I have faith in the teens and youth who want to be involved. If we give them the tools, they will exceed our wildest expectations.”

The Heiser’s hope the initiative fosters a culture of leadership that is both diverse and authentic. “We would be most proud if it looks different year to year,” Karen said, reflecting on the lasting impact they envision. “That means we’re finding people who are passionate and understand that there isn’t one cookie-cutter way.”

The fund also allows Beth Tikvah to dream bigger, offering seed money for innovative ideas that might otherwise be financially out of reach. “We hope to encourage innovation and risk-taking,” Karen shared. “Here’s a little bit of money that’s not part of the regular budget, and you can try something. If it works, terrific. If it doesn’t work, we’ll still learn from it.”

As humble as they are visionary, Steve and Karen are excited to watch the impact unfold. Their hope is that the Teen Allies for Justice Endowment not only equips teens with skills to advocate for justice but also inspires them to take initiative, try new things, and lead in ways that are authentic to them. The Heisers are helping Beth Tikvah build a future shaped by empowered young voices and compassionate action.

Written by Hannah Karr

Director of Marketing & Community Engagement at Congregation Beth Tikvah

Featuring Milly

Milly has lived a life shaped by observations gathered over decades about people, justice, and the ways we choose to move through the world. Her story is one of attention, and of a steady commitment to noticing what matters.

That commitment to noticing has consequences. “All of these people are my brothers and sisters,” she said. “That’s what makes it so hard.” Living through the present moment feels heavy for her, not because injustice is new, but because it is all too familiar. She has been paying attention for most of her life. “I’m 86 years old and still swimming in the swamp,” she said. “It’s hard.”

That awareness began early. At eight years old, Milly was taken to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore for treatment related to hearing loss caused by childhood illness. Even then, she noticed what others might have learned to ignore. “I saw the signs on the restrooms and the drinking fountains that said, ‘white only,’” she recalled with a shaky voice and tears in her eyes. “And I just said, that’s not fair.” She did not say it aloud at the time, but the moment stayed with her. “I have been ‘othered’ because of my disability and when I saw that other people were not being treated fairly, it mattered.”

Milly went on to study science and law, earning a doctorate in biochemistry and a law degree, and clerking in federal court. She speaks of her family’s immigrant roots with both pride and clarity. “All four of my grandparents were immigrants,” she said. “On my father’s side from Lithuania, on my mother’s side from what is now Ukraine.” Their success did not distance her from the struggles of others; it deepened her sense of responsibility.

Movement has also shaped her life, not as competition, but as connection. She bicycled through Southeast Ohio and parts of Appalachia, stopping to talk with people in their yards and forming friendships that have lasted decades. “I still have friends that I made by stopping in their yards and talking to them.” Over time, those rides broadened her perspective. “My interest expanded from racial justice to economic justice,” she explained.

Family, for Milly, has never been limited by blood or structure. “I just go through the world collecting people.” She speaks of children, grandchildren, former spouses, in-laws, and friends with the same care and affection. “When I say I find joy in family, it’s both the immediate family and the very extended family.” That way of living came naturally. “It wasn’t something that somebody taught me,” she said. “It was how I felt.”

Judaism lives in her not as doctrine, but as ethical grounding. “The high point is always Mi Shebeirach,” she shared. “Help me find the courage, not the strength, but the courage, to make my life a blessing.” That line continues to guide her. She gives generously to causes rooted in justice, immigration support, and local care, seeking ways to show acceptance to people across her community.

Milly names her imperfections, impatience, and regrets honestly. She accepts loss. She adapts. When bicycling became unsafe, she delighted in hiking at the Scioto River and learned to row. When crowds became challenging, she found other ways to show up. “I’m able. I’m blessed with the full use of my mind and body at this age.”

Her life, like a carob tree, has grown slowly and deliberately. The seeds she has planted through courage, attention, and care continue to nourish others. She moves through the world the same way she once moved through Southeast Ohio on her bicycle: paying attention and stopping when something matters, willing to linger. Milly has always understood that change happens in small, human moments. She may not sit in the shade of all she has planted, but the fruit is already there.

** the name of this person has been changed to keep their identity anonymous

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Milly was interviewed on January 8, 2026 by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr

Written by Hannah Karr

Director of Marketing & Community Engagement

Congregation Beth Tikvah

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The Carob Tree Project is an initiative at Congregation Beth Tikvah designed to preserve the life stories, wisdom, and experiences of longtime congregants so their voices continue to guide the community long into the future.

This project was started by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr, inspired by a story in the Talmud about Honi the Circle Maker. When asked why he is planting a tree that will take decades to bear fruit, he explains that just as others planted for him, he plants for the generations who will come after him. The lesson is about legacy, continuity, and responsibility across generations.

In that spirit, the Carob Tree Project focuses on members of the congregation whose lives hold deep experience, reflection, and perspective. Through recorded interviews, participants are invited to share memories, formative moments, values, and lessons learned.

These interviews are video or audio recorded and saved, ensuring that their stories become a lasting resource for the community. Written profiles are then created from the interviews so that the insights and voices of these individuals can be shared more widely within the congregation.

The goal is not simply to document history. It is to capture the human insight behind a life lived — the ideas, questions, and experiences that can nurture future generations. Just like the carob tree in the Talmudic story, the project recognizes that the fruits of a person’s life often extend far beyond their own lifetime.

In this way, the Carob Tree Project becomes both an archive and a teaching tool: a living collection of stories that remind the community how wisdom is passed forward — one voice, one memory, and one life at a time.

February 3, 2026

Some love stories are marked by anniversaries, milestones, and photographs. Erin and Patrick can trace theirs by something a little more unexpected: the Columbus Souper Bowl Cook-Off at Congregation Beth Tikvah.

Their first Souper Bowl was 11 years ago, on their third date in 2015. “We thought it was such a fun and unique event,” Erin shared. What they didn’t know then was that the Souper Bowl would quietly become a yearly marker of their life together. Their engagement year. Their newlywed year. The year their child was born. And now, as a family of five, the Souper Bowl is still there—waiting, warm, and familiar.

“Over the years we seemed to mark our life milestones at the Souper Bowl,” Erin said. “Now we come for the community spirit, the memories, and of course, the great food.”

When asked how the Souper Bowl has changed over the years, their answer was simple and powerful: it hasn’t. “It’s a classic community event, one that sparks nostalgia even if it’s your first time attending.” In a world that feels constantly in motion, that consistency matters.

That’s the magic of the Souper Bowl. Walk into the building and you’re greeted by warmth, not just from simmering soups, but from people. Folks of all ages gather around tables, while “official-looking people in aprons bustle around making magic happen,” Erin joked. It’s joyful, welcoming, and unmistakably Beth Tikvah. (Pro tip from a seasoned attendee: arrive early because parking and seats fill up fast!)

The annual Souper Bowl isn’t just about trying delicious soups; it’s about what you are supporting by attending. All proceeds benefit the Beth Tikvah Jewish Camp Fund, which has raised over $143,000 and sent more than 265 children to Jewish summer camp over the past 17 years.

“Camp is such a powerfully formative experience for any young person,” Erin reflected. “Connecting more kids with positive camp experiences can only bring more goodness to the world.”

And then there are the moments that turn into stories retold year after year. Erin and Patrick still laugh thinking about their first Souper Bowl, when a “wonderfully goofy giant ladle trophy” was presented to the winning soup. And they haven’t forgotten the Hungarian goulash from years ago either. “I still dream about it,” Erin said. “It got my vote, hands down.”

On Saturday, February 7, 2026 starting at 5:00 PM, the 18th Annual Columbus Souper Bowl Cook-Off returns, and Erin and Patrick’s story is just one of many woven into this beloved tradition. Whether it’s your first Souper Bowl or your 18th, whether you come for the soup, the cause, or the sense of belonging, you’ll be part of something bigger: a community that shows up, year after year, to nourish both body and soul.

Tickets are now on sale. Come hungry. Come early. And who knows, this might just become part of your story too.

Written by Hannah Karr, Director of Marketing & Community Engagement at Congregation Beth Tikvah

February 3, 2026

There is a concept I value deeply: The Art of Invisible Leadership. It is the idea that when you walk into the sanctuary on a Friday evening, you are not thinking about the lighting, the temperature, or the countless logistics behind the scenes. Instead, you are free to enter into a profound spiritual experience. When everything works seamlessly, it allows the sacred to take center stage.

The Sacred Business of Community

It can be easy to view the business of a synagogue as budgets, maintenance, setups, resets, and endless logistics—“just business.” At Beth Tikvah, there is no such thing. Every decision we make reflects our values. This is what I call the Sacred Business of Community.

When we maintain and invest in HVAC systems, we are not simply purchasing machinery; we are ensuring that every congregant—young and young at heart—can sit comfortably during services and gatherings. When we meet regularly to balance our funds, we are not just doing math; we are practicing tzedakah, ensuring that there is never a financial barrier to belonging at Beth Tikvah. When we support and oversee our staff, we are living the value of kavod (respect), creating a workplace grounded in dignity, teamwork, and a shared purpose to serve our Beth Tikvah community.

Last month, we said goodbye to Enos as he began a new chapter in his life (he shared with me that he is happily holding his chair down), and we welcomed Obaidullah, a new Afghan SIV (someone arriving with a Special Immigrant Visa), whom Beth Tikvah has helped support, sponsor, and resettle in the United States. Obaidullah recently began custodial work at Beth Tikvah part-time. This is a win for Beth Tikvah and a win for Obaidullah as he continues his search for a position that takes advantage of his academic training. Obaidullah holds a Bachelor of Science in Agriculture and an MBA with a specialization in finance. These moments reflect who we are—a community guided by compassion, responsibility, and care for one another.

Much of my work as Executive Director, and the work of our entire staff, lives in what I call the “quiet experiences.” These are the moments that feel seamless: the technology that allows a grandparent 3,000 miles away to watch a grandchild’s B’nai Mitzvah, or the security measures that let you breathe a sigh of relief as you walk through our doors.

This month, we are grateful for a generous donation from JewishColumbus, which provided the new Verkada Security System for synagogues and Jewish institutions throughout the Columbus area. The system offers enhanced camera coverage and a new access control feature, allowing congregants who download the app to enter the building securely. If you have not received your invitation to the app, please contact me. As we continue to strengthen and refine our security, we remain in close partnership with the Worthington Police, as well as the Perry and Sharon Township departments.

Each month, Beth Tikvah is filled with services, classes, programs, and community gatherings. These moments do not happen by accident. They are the result of a dedicated team working at the intersection of logistics and love. My role is to manage the “gears” of this institution so that you can focus on its soul.

We also have much to celebrate. Our Mishpacha Appeal, our largest annual fundraiser supporting Beth Tikvah’s operating budget, has been a tremendous success. Thanks to the generosity of all of you, we reached our goal of $60,000. Your giving allows us to think creatively and expansively as we develop programs and services for all ages. Every contribution matters, and every gift is meaningful. For those still considering donating, it is not too late. Gifts made in our current fiscal year (25–26) will continue to enhance our services, events, and programs.

Looking ahead, I invite you to join us on February 7 from 5:00 to 7:00 PM for the 2026 Souper Bowl, now in its 18th year, a chai year. This beloved event raises funds to help send Beth Tikvah children to Jewish overnight camp. Each year, the Souper Bowl helps create opportunities for Jewish connection, growth, and lifelong memories. The Souper Bowl is made possible through months of planning by our Brotherhood and the dedication of both professional and amateur chefs. Applications for summer 2026 camp scholarships are available by clicking here or in our weekly emails.

As we move into this next season, I am deeply grateful for your partnership in this sacred work. While much of what I do happens behind the scenes, its impact is only possible because of the vibrant, engaged community you create every day.

Beth Tikvah is built by each member—new and not so new—who show up, form relationships, and strengthen our shared future. We are truly grateful that you are part of our community.

This article was written by Debbie Vincour, Executive Director of Congregation Beth Tikvah, and published in Tikvah Topics on February 3, 2026.

February 1, 2026

On Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I was invited to speak at the annual B.R.E.A.D. (Building Responsibility Equity and Dignity) network and clergy retreat in honor of the holiday and Dr. King’s legacy. They invited four people who were new to the organization and represented the broad reach of B.R.E.A.D’s network: Rev. Raymond Austin of New Faith Baptist Church, myself, Fadi Suleiman of Noor Islamic Cultural Center, and Paisha Thomas, a ministry student at First Unitarian Universalist.

We were all asked to discuss our denomination’s spiritual and historic commitment to the work of social justice, and how our denomination’s connection to the broader interfaith community has helped inspire our fight for justice and efforts to build and use the power of people in that fight.

With social justice already at the forefront of many of our minds, please find below some of the remarks I shared with our B.R.E.A.D. community about Reform Judaism’s historic commitment to civil rights and social justice:

The Reform Movement is a progressive Jewish denomination that believes we are bound by the moral and ethical strictures of our scripture. Torah tells us 36 times in various ways that we must protect the rights of the stranger, the widow, and the orphan – metonyms for those who are most vulnerable in our society. We see ourselves as inheritors of the prophetic tradition of calling both ourselves and those in power to do what is right. The words of Isaiah 58 reverberate through our tradition:

“…Then, when you call, Adonai will answer. If you remove the chains of oppression, the menacing hand, the malicious word. If you offer compassion to the hungry, and satisfy the suffering, then shall your light shine through the darkness.”

We believe that to bring light, we must be light. Reform Judaism thus has been invested in the work of Social Justice since our first platform, written in 1885, where we declare: “we deem it our duty to participate in the great task of modern times, to solve, on the basis of justice and righteousness, the problems presented by the contrasts and evils of the present organization of society.” As a denomination of Judaism founded in the United States, our roots here in Ohio, we have always seen this call as outward facing, a call to be partners in creating a more just society for all.

We created the Commission on Social Action for Reform Judaism, which later became the Religious Action Center (or RAC for short) to help coordinate and guide our efforts. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was drafted in the conference room of their Washington DC office. So was the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Many Reform rabbis were deeply involved in the fight for Civil Rights, but Dr. King called on them to move from words to action, when, in 1964, Dr. King approached the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the Reform Rabbinic professional leadership organization, and asked them to join with him as creative witnesses to their joint convictions of equality and racial justice in St. Augustine, Florida. Seventeen rabbis from all over the country heeded his call and were arrested for praying and eating with integrated groups.

In their letter written from jail on June 19, 1964, they explain why they came to St. Augustine in this way:

[…] We came to St. Augustine mainly because we could not stay away. We could not say no to Martin Luther King, whom we always respected and admired and whose loyal friends we hope we shall be in the days to come. We could not pass by the opportunity to achieve a moral goal by moral means – a rare modern privilege – which has been the glory of the non-violent struggle for civil rights.

We came because we could not stand quietly by our brother’s blood. We had done that too many times before. We have been vocal in our exhortation of others but the idleness of our hands too often revealed an inner silence; silence at a time when silence has become the unpardonable sin of our time. We came in the hope that the God of us all would accept our small involvement as partial atonement for the many things we wish we had done before and often.

We came as Jews who remember the millions of faceless people who stood quietly, watching the smoke rise from Hitler’s crematoria. We came because we know that second only to silence, the greatest danger to man is loss of faith in man’s capacity to act.

“The greatest danger to man is loss of faith in man’s capacity to act.” These words are ringing through history, through time and space, to us today. We cannot lose faith in our ability to act, even when it’s hard, when it’s scary, and when it’s dangerous; we must rise.

Two days after the rabbis in St. Augustine wrote their letter, James Charney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner, volunteers and activists taking part in Mississippi’s Freedom summer, were abducted and brutally killed by the Klu Klux Klan. James Charney was a black man, an activist with the Congress of Racial Equality. Michael Schwerner was a coordinator for the same organization. Andrew Goodman was a volunteer. He and Michael Schwerner were Jewish, like half of the volunteers who came to support the Freedom Summer from across the nation.

It is not always safe or easy to do what is right in the face of thuggish injustice.

We must do it anyway.

Three years later, in 1967, the Klan firebombed the synagogue in Jackson, Mississippi, because of the work they and their rabbi were doing to support civil rights. At three in the morning on Shabbat, January 9, 2026, that synagogue was destroyed again by an antisemitic act of arson.

Acts like this seek to scare us and isolate us, but I have faith. I have faith that we are God’s partners in the work of healing what is broken in our world, in our nation, in our state, and in our city. I have faith that this is holy work. Not only are we God’s partners, but we are also yours too. We will not be scared into silence because we know that when we work together, we bend the arc of the universe toward justice.

Earlier, I mentioned the Religious Action Center for Reform Judaism. For decades, they have helped to shape and coordinate the justice work of the Reform Movement across the United States because collective action is powerful. As a result, the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1982, the Voting Rights Extension, the Japanese American Redress Act, the Civil Rights Restoration Act, the Fair Housing Act Amendments of 1988, and the Civil Rights Act of 1991 were all drafted in their conference room.

In 2015, the Reform rabbis of Ohio came together to form the second state-based branch of the Religious Action center here in Ohio. With RAC-OH, Reform Jewish congregations across the state have partnered with allies to contact 250,000 voters to encourage them to vote for fair voting districts. We mobilized more than 436,000 voters to enshrine and expand reproductive freedom. We were part of a coalition to help pass the Targeted Community Alternatives to Prison Program; we lobbied for a fairer probation system, helping to pass Senate Bill 66. Our participation in each of these campaigns has been guided and informed by our Jewish values.

Here in Columbus, Congregation Beth Tikvah has been part of B.R.E.A.D. for several years, and together, we have accomplished meaningful change. As Jews, we know we cannot do this alone. We’re a tiny percentage of the population, and we know too well that injustice impacts us all but does not impact us all equally. As we continue together in this holy work, may we continue to be inspired by Dr. King, by each other, and by the words of our prophets:

You have been told, Mortal, what is good,

And what God requires of you:

Only to do justice,

Love kindness,

And walk humbly with your God

(Micah 6:8).

Rabbi Karen Martin

Featuring Dawn Heyman

In the Talmud, the carob tree is planted for a future the planter may never see. Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Carob Tree Project is about honoring those who have done just that. Dawn Heyman’s story is one of seeds planted patiently in classrooms, in community, and in faith — and of fruit still being gathered today and into the future.

Some of her earliest memories are rooted in the tenderness of her family. “Aunt Betty was my favorite aunt. She used to make jello especially for me because I just loved the color of jello. Not only is it pretty, it tastes pretty! She lived in New Jersey, and we used to go out to the seashore. I’d go swimming in the ocean, which was fun and scary. One minute your feet are on the ground, the next minute you’re ten feet up in the air. I’d stay in the water until I was blue.”

For Dawn, school began unevenly but would eventually become her calling. She loved learning, but her first classroom experience shook her sense of safety. It taught her something lasting about children, how vulnerable they are and how easily a single adult can shape their confidence. What steadied her was another teacher later on. “Mrs. Thorpe is the reason I became a teacher. She was tough,” says Dawn. “She was my role model, and actually my friend as a grownup.” Mrs. Thorpe showed her that rigor and care can coexist, and that simply believing in students can alter the course of their lives.

That belief would guide Dawn through decades in the classroom.

As a Jewish child, Dawn often felt isolated. Being the only Jewish student meant living inside someone else’s calendar and customs. “I was sometimes the only Jewish kid in the classroom. You feel very lonely. It’s always Christmas or Easter, and who you are doesn’t seem to matter.”

Holidays passed without recognition. Identity went unseen. The loneliness was real, but so was her resolve. Over time, she learned to speak clearly and calmly about who she was. She did not aim to persuade, but to stand her ground. Judaism, for Dawn, was never a question; she felt it early and unmistakably. “My soul just knew it was Jewish,” she says.

That sense of belonging eventually led her to her second home: Beth Tikvah. “Beth Tikvah was in a little house on the corner, and I just decided one Friday to go in and see what it was like.” The community, the shared responsibility, the openness…all of it resonated. She didn’t just participate; she led. She taught. She stood at the bimah. She felt at home.

Teaching became the central thread of her life. As a teacher, Dawn loved the process of helping children learn and understand, especially those who struggled. She watched for the moment when comprehension arrived, and frustration softened into clarity. She made room for humor, creativity, and for current events turned into mock broadcasts and commercials. She believed learning should be engaging. It should feel alive.

Dawn was especially drawn to children others found difficult. The ones who tested boundaries; the ones who carried something heavier. Dawn noticed them. She remembered what it felt like to be different, and she made sure those students were seen.

he values that have shaped her came from home. “My mother always said to be kind. Always be kind.” Her father brought humor and creativity into the house, filling it with music. He played the cello, loved classical pieces, and passed on an appreciation for beauty that has stayed with her long after her father’s sound faded.

Even now, art remains a large part of Dawn’s life. She writes poetry inspired by nature and animals. She draws. She notices. She talks to God honestly, and sometimes argumentatively, because for her, faith is about building an authentic relationship.

“I have a need to talk to God and I do. Judaism doesn’t try to make God be anything. You have freedom to love God in your own way.”

Looking back, Dawn measures her life by the moments when kindness mattered. By noticing who was overlooked. By staying curious, creative, and willing to stand in her truth. She speaks plainly about who she is and how she lives. “I’m alive and well. I still drive people crazy! You have to be a little naughty; have a little fun. That’s important.”

In the story of the carob tree, one plants knowing they may never sit in its shade. Dawn has lived that story. Through teaching, through leadership, through faith practiced honestly, she has planted seeds she may never fully see. They live on in the students who felt understood, in the communities that felt like home, in the quiet confidence of being Jewish without apology, and in the simple, enduring command to always be kind.

Her story is a carob tree: planted long ago, still bearing fruit.

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Dawn was interviewed on December 10, 2025 by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr

Written by Hannah Karr

Director of Marketing & Community Engagement

Congregation Beth Tikvah

The Carob Tree Project is an initiative at Congregation Beth Tikvah designed to preserve the life stories, wisdom, and experiences of longtime congregants so their voices continue to guide the community long into the future.

This project was started by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr, inspired by a story in the Talmud about Honi the Circle Maker. When asked why he is planting a tree that will take decades to bear fruit, he explains that just as others planted for him, he plants for the generations who will come after him. The lesson is about legacy, continuity, and responsibility across generations.

In that spirit, the Carob Tree Project focuses on members of the congregation whose lives hold deep experience, reflection, and perspective. Through recorded interviews, participants are invited to share memories, formative moments, values, and lessons learned.

These interviews are video recorded and archived, ensuring that their stories become a lasting resource for the community. Written profiles are then created from the interviews so that the insights and voices of these individuals can be shared more widely within the congregation.

The goal is not simply to document history. It is to capture the human insight behind a life lived — the ideas, questions, and experiences that can nurture future generations. Just like the carob tree in the Talmudic story, the project recognizes that the fruits of a person’s life often extend far beyond their own lifetime.

In this way, the Carob Tree Project becomes both an archive and a teaching tool: a living collection of stories that remind the community how wisdom is passed forward — one voice, one memory, and one life at a time.

Reflections by Rabbi Karen Martin

“When Life Seems a To-Do List” by Marjorie Saiser in How to Love the World, edited by James Crews

Much like a flower, I am solar-powered and not made to withstand the cold. In nicer weather, I can stay outside for hours, but in this season, being outdoors is something to be endured, head down, shoulders hunched against the wind.

January is a hard month. The joy of Hanukkah has passed, and although we have moved beyond the darkest nights of the year, we must still slog through long stretches of dreary gray cold before we get to feel the heat of the sun. With the holidays behind us, we scramble to catch up on missed work, plan for what’s to come, and tend to all that must be done week in and week out.

In the winter, it’s easy to give in to the temptation to curl into ourselves, protecting our warmth from the cutting cold. It is easier to stay indoors, weighed down by the pressure of what must get done, or what we should be doing. For me, that includes laundry and dishes, teaching and learning, the minutiae of parenting, and doing what I can to stand up for what I believe in. These things are necessary and urgent, demanding attention, but they are not everything.

This poem, “When Life Seems a To-Do List,” feels like a gentle reminder of the other things—the small moments that fill me up and carry me through this season and every other. In the poem, the speaker looks up at the early morning sky, perhaps on a morning like this one as Rosh Hodesh Tevet approaches, the moon only a sliver on the horizon, with Venus resting at the cusp of the moon’s crescent. There is something both stark and warm in the language, in the image of the moon as a slice of white bone—as though it cuts through the noise and leaves the speaker picked clean. Yet it is not a painful cleansing; it is more like a mikvah, where one emerges pure from living water and takes the first breath after immersion, or like the way the world is blanketed and pristine after a heavy snowfall.

The warmth comes with these words, “and with luck I will have you / to see it with.” The speaker hopes to share this simple, poignant moment. There’s a gentle, self-deprecating humor in the imagined interaction, both in their pajamas as they guess at the star or planet, no cell phones intruding to give them the answer. It’s a moment of imagined connection; a pause made better because it is shared.

I am struck by the image the speaker paints of choosing. They choose to look up, to see the sky in the early hours, to bask not in the light of the sun, but in the quiet glow of the moon and stars. I find myself wondering what it would feel like to choose that particular light, to breathe into an intimate darkness and find companionship there before the chaos that comes with daylight.

The poem calls me to look up and around when I want to huddle into myself. It’s a reminder of the simple wonder found in connection and stillness, and that they are not mutually exclusive, but rather they are richer for being shared. As we enter the cold slog of January, may we be blessed with wonder, rejuvenating pauses, and connection.

If you’ve ever stepped into Beth Tikvah on a Sunday morning, you’ve likely been greeted by a smile, a joke, or a helping hand from Enos Wisniewski. For ten years, Enos has been a constant presence behind the scenes, tending not just to our building but to the spirit of our community.

This January, Enos will retire after a decade of service as Beth Tikvah’s beloved custodian — though for so many, he has been much more than that. Children know him as “Grandpa Enos,” and generations of families have seen his care and kindness in every corner of our building.

“I try to make people laugh every day,” Enos shared, “regardless of who they are.” It’s that simple joy and connection that has made him such a beloved part of our Beth Tikvah family.

Enos joined our staff in 2015 and has become part of countless moments of life at Beth Tikvah—setting up classrooms, fixing things before they’re noticed, and sharing his signature humor and optimism. “Life’s really short,” he reflected. “I always say, try to treat people right, and try to enjoy it while you’re here.”

Over the years, Enos has seen our community through everything—High Holy Days and Hanukkah celebrations, Sunday mornings filled with laughter, late-night event cleanups, and the moments of quiet between it all. He has watched generations grow, cheering on students who once toddled through the halls. “I’m gonna miss everybody,” he said softly. “I built great relationships with everyone… I hope everybody keeps me in their heart, because you will all be in my heart forever.”

As we prepare to celebrate Enos’s retirement in January, we also celebrate what he represents: the heart of Mishpacha—family. His care, humor, and humility remind us why this community matters.

“I always brag about this place,” Enos shared. “This is one of the best jobs I’ve ever had in my life.”

That gratitude runs both ways. Enos has left his fingerprints on every corner of our congregation, and his light will keep shining through every smile, every classroom, and every hallway he makes brighter. Let’s honor Enos by carrying that light forward. Help us continue building the kind of community he helped create—one filled with laughter, kindness, and family.

December 27, 2025