Written by David Binkovitz

Shishim, Congregation Beth Tikvah’s senior group, ended its season with a picnic and concert in a park on July 9. Over 60 people from around the Columbus community attended. The picnic was held at Mirolo’s Community Shelter in Worthington. “We selected this site because of the beautiful natural setting surrounding the shelter as well as the array of amenities available at this site,” said Marcey Foreman, one of the event coordinators.

After a lunch from City Barbecue, Imber Solis provided musical entertainment. “We enjoyed her elegant vocals and acoustic guitar,” said Jackie Kon, a member of the Shishim planning committee.

Shishim also announced its new season of programs for September 2026 through June 2027.

“Our planning committee has been hard at work finding a variety of speakers and entertainers,” said Jane Mitchell, Shishim’s chairperson. “The upcoming speakers will present diverse talks in the areas of history, art, literature, Judaism, gardening, and medical concerns for seniors. We even have lighter topics such as the history of pizza in Columbus as well as several musical concerts.”

The season starts on September 3 at 11:00 AM with former political strategist Dale Butland talking about “When Ohio was Blue: My Twenty-Year Journey with John Glenn.” At 1:00 PM there will be a talk by OSU Professor Angus Fletcher entitled “You Are Smarter Than AI.” A lunch will be held between the two programs.

Shishim, which holds its programs at Congregation Beth Tikvah, is open to the entire community. “Shishim’s outreach is to all seniors,” said Mitchell. “We have about 60 to 80 people coming to our programs each month from all around the Columbus area.”

If you would like to be added to the email list for monthly program messages, send a message to shishim@bethtikvahcolumbus.org.

Morissa Freiberg-Vance, Tzedek America Rabbi Emily Feigenson Impact Fellowship

This summer, I had the privilege of completing the Rabbi Emily Feigenson Impact Fellowship through Tzedek America, a yearlong professional development experience for Jewish educators centered on social justice, Jewish values, and experiential learning. The fellowship culminated in an immersive educational journey through Los Angeles, where we explored what it means to live out the Torah’s repeated commandment to “welcome the stranger” and pursue justice in our own communities. Throughout the week, we visited organizations and neighborhoods that tell powerful stories of resilience, strength, and hope.

We began at Historic Belmar Park, which commemorates the thriving African American community that once existed there before it was destroyed through eminent domain in the 1950s. Our tour was led by Tzedek America educator Pastor Rondell Eskridge. At Inkwell Beach in Santa Monica, we learned about its history as a safe haven for African American beachgoers during segregation.

One stop that was especially meaningful to me was Beit T’Shuvah. As an organization that integrates Jewish spirituality, psychotherapy, and the 12-step program to support individuals recovering from addiction, its work beautifully demonstrates how Jewish values can be woven into healing, personal growth, and second chances. We heard testimony from residents and participated in a moving text study with their head rabbi, Iggy Gurin-Malous. We have welcomed Beit T’Shuvah educators to Beth Tikvah in the past, and I look forward to hopefully bringing them back for another program soon.

We also visited Liberation Coffee House, a social enterprise of the Los Angeles LGBT Center, where LGBTQ+ youth and older adults build job skills and community through its Culinary Arts program. We heard the story of a young person who moved to Los Angeles from a small town in rural California so they could be accepted for who they are. The LGBT Center provided them with housing, gender-affirming care, and now a job at the café.

Our visit to Chinatown offered another powerful lesson, led by tour guide and local DJ Kev Lu. After the original Chinatown was demolished in the 1930s because of discriminatory housing policies, residents rebuilt their community while preserving their rich culture and traditions. We also learned how anti-Asian hate resurfaced during the COVID-19 pandemic, prompting community members to organize and protect one another. Their story is a testament to resilience in the face of repeated injustice.

One of the most inspiring experiences of the week was touring Homeboy Industries, the world’s largest gang rehabilitation and reentry program. For more than three decades, Homeboy has provided training, employment, counseling, and support to formerly gang-involved and previously incarcerated individuals, helping them rebuild their lives with dignity and purpose. Hearing our guide share his own journey of transformation was unforgettable and served as a powerful reminder of what becomes possible when communities choose compassion over judgment. Every major city in our country needs a program like Homeboy!

Perhaps the most impactful experience, however, was an afternoon spent with the Los Angeles Mission on Skid Row, distributing water and connecting with individuals experiencing homelessness. Out of respect for those we met, I chose not to take photographs. Instead, I left with stories, conversations, and a renewed sense of responsibility. With more than 70,000 people experiencing homelessness in Los Angeles County and critical funding for service organizations continuing to decline, the need is overwhelming.

This fellowship challenged me to think more deeply about justice, empathy, and the many ways Jewish values call us to engage with the world around us. It left me deeply concerned about those whom we call “strangers” in our community. It reminded me that tzedek, justice, is not simply an abstract ideal, but an ongoing practice of listening, learning, showing up, and recognizing the dignity inherent in every person.

As I prepare for another year with our Religious School and Adult Learning communities, I look forward to bringing these experiences into my work with our learners and families.

Reflections by Rabbi Karen Martin

The Lanyard by Billy Collins

The other day I was ricocheting slowly

off the blue walls of this room,

moving as if underwater

from typewriter to piano,

from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,

when I found myself in the L section

of the dictionary

where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist

could send one into the past more suddenly—

a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp

by a deep Adirondack lake

learning how to braid long thin plastic strips

into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard

or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,

but that did not keep me from crossing

strand over strand again and again

until I had made a boxy

red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,

and I gave her a lanyard.

She nursed me in many a sick room,

lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,

laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,

and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,

and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.

Here are thousands of meals, she said,

and here is clothing and a good education.

And here is your lanyard, I replied,

which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,

strong legs, bones and teeth,

and two clear eyes to read the world,

she whispered,

and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.

And here, I wish to say to her now,

is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,

but the rueful admission that when she took

the two-tone lanyard from my hand,

I was as sure as a boy could be

that this useless, worthless thing I wove

out of boredom would be enough

to make us even.

---

It’s incredible to me the way memory works. Sometimes, I feel like my memory has more in common with Swiss cheese than a steel trap. Words won’t be where I need them, or I’ll remember every detail of a conversation, including where we were standing or sitting, but the name of my conversation partner eludes me. And yet, when I encountered this poem in When We See You Again by Rachel Goldberg-Polin, it felt like being teleported back in time. For Rachel, it was back to her own camp summers and the night she shared this poem with Hersh, who was killed after 328 days in captivity after being taken on October 7, 2023. For me, it was back to January of my senior year of high school, when my dad took me to the Key West Literary Festival to hear Billy Collins share his work. I read several of his books of poetry that year and was so excited to meet one of my literary icons.

Aspects of that trip came rushing back. Getting a hug from Billy Collins was pretty cool, but more poignant was the memory of how loudly my dad snored and how he would collect stories from everyone he encountered on the street. We shared a love of poetry and language. To borrow Rachel Goldberg-Polin’s language, he was my person.

Collins is a master of drawing out the deeply poignant in what might otherwise be seen as the painfully mundane. My kids have brought home myriad lanyards in different colors and states of completion. They litter their rooms and seem to spontaneously spawn in the backseat of my car. While these are not usually gifts, my younger son loves to draw pictures of hearts on whatever paper he can find and proudly presents them to me as a token of his love.

Goldberg-Polin zeros in on the last stanza of this poem, when Collins, as the speaker, confesses that in his youthful naïveté, he believed the gift of a lanyard (made with help and mostly out of boredom) was enough to repay all that his mother had given and done for him. He confesses this from a distance, no longer the child he was, and with this new perspective, no longer able to say the words to his mother.

Goldberg-Polin answers from the mother’s perspective:

I know how Hersh repaid me. He stayed alive and let me fight for him. For 330 additional days after Death came to the door of the opposite-of-shelter bomb shelter. Hersh let me prove how much I loved him by letting me go into the arena to battle without training or armor, just with my tiny fists of primal love. He gave me hope that I could save him by wrestling with the world. He kept breathing so that I would be motivated; he kept me motivated so that I would keep breathing. I was, and I still am.

I find her answer beautiful and deeply moving, but I also struggled with it because I struggle with the idea of debt in loving relationships. My parents didn’t keep accounts. Only in jest did I ever hear, “I gave birth to you, so…!” Life, care, and love were and are to be given freely and generously. To the extent that love is an exchange, I find myself repaid when my older son leans on me to show his affection between one thing and the next, or when my little one hands me yet another paper heart and asks for cuddles while sitting on the couch. I pray they never lose their affectionate natures.

In many ways, that’s the crux of the poem. It’s not about repaying in any real sense. Rather, it’s an acknowledgment of how perspective changes. As kids, we don’t see all that our parents pour into us, all that love and care and energy and time and financial and emotional resources. With perspective, we can see and name the impossibility of repaying all that was given, even if it is too late. As a mother, Goldberg-Polin’s answer turns the expectation of repayment on its head. Hersh paid her back, so to speak, by being Hersh. By waking up each day, by giving her the opportunity to be his mother, to love him fiercely, that was all she needed. No bauble or lanyard was necessary. He was the gift. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfectly Hersh, and that’s all she needed him to be.

There’s a story told of the Hasidic master Rabbi Zusya. On his deathbed, he said to his disciples, “In the world to come, they will not ask me, ‘Why were you not Moses?’ They will ask me, ‘Why were you not Zusya?’” I hear the echoes of The Lanyard and Rachel Goldberg-Polin’s response. As I watch my children grow and discover who they are, I pray that they don’t lose themselves in the world’s tempestuous winds. I cannot imagine the challenges they and their friends will face, or how they will change and grow. In Zusya’s story, God is like a parent, knowing that the world will be filled with trials. Zusya’s words remind us that what God wants from us is not perfection or conformity to some imagined ideal, but rather that we weather the storms of life and come through them—not unchanged, which would be impossible—but anchored by that which makes us who we are.

¹Rachel Goldberg-Polin. When We See You Again (Random House: New York, 2026), 179.

June 7, 2026

Every generation produces leaders who help move society towards progress. For Pride Month, we reflect on the impact of Roberta “Robbie” Kaplan, a Jewish attorney whose work has shaped some of the most significant civil rights victories of our time.

Born in Cleveland and educated at Harvard and Columbia, Kaplan built her career as a litigator, willing to take on difficult cases and unpopular fights. She is most well-known for representing Edith Windsor in United States v. Windsor, the landmark Supreme Court case that struck down a key provision of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) in 2013. The decision required the federal government to recognize legally married same-sex couples and paved the way for marriage equality in America. Kaplan has said that when she first heard Windsor’s story, she knew that it was a case worth fighting for. Her willingness to take that risk helped change the lives of millions of Americans.

Kaplan’s career did not stop there. She went on to found her own law firm, focusing on civil rights and public-interest litigation. She has represented survivors of discrimination and harassment, supported LGBTQIA+ equality, and was involved in other high-profile cases. In 2024, Forbes featured her as one of America’s Top 200 Lawyers and described her career as one defined by “big risks and big payoffs.”

What makes Roberta Kaplan’s story compelling from a Jewish perspective is the values that stand as the basis for her victories. Jewish tradition teaches that every human is created b’tzelem Elohim—in the image of God. This idea calls on us to recognize the dignity and worth of every person. Kaplan’s work has consistently centered on advocating for those whose rights and humanity have been questioned or denied, something we actively work to live out in our community.

At Beth Tikvah, Pride Month is not only a celebration of LGBTQIA+ identity; it is an opportunity to reflect on what it means to build a community where everyone belongs. Kaplan reminds us that inclusion is not passive; it requires a willingness to stand up when equality seems out of reach.

Through her work, Roberta Kaplan has helped widen the circle of belonging—a goal that continues to resonate deeply with the values we strive to live each day at Beth Tikvah.

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

Sources

• Kaplan Martin LLP, “Roberta A. Kaplan.”
• Forbes, “Roberta Kaplan: A Career of Big Risks and Big Payoffs” (2024).
• Columbia Law School, “Roberta Kaplan.”
• The Advocate, coverage of Roberta Kaplan’s representation of E. Jean Carroll.

Featuring Gideon Fraenkel

Gideon Fraenkel’s story begins in Germany in 1932. His family history stretches back through Munich; wool brokers, rabbis, lawyers, and relatives who understood, early enough, that Germany was no longer safe. “In 1933, the whole bloody lot of them moved to Palestine,” he said. “They were clever.” After Hitler came to power, British scientists came to Germany looking for scholars they could help bring back. “They got Dad a job at a university college, and so we moved to England.”

“A defining event of my life was the Second World War.” He was only a boy when the Blitz began. He remembers sleeping under the stairs with his younger brother because “that was a safe place,” while his parents slept under a heavy steel table. Soon the family moved west of London to Slough, where his father’s research had been relocated. There, wartime life took on a quieter rhythm; he remembers a nice house, a vegetable garden, and a sense of adaptation. “It was a rather quiet war, to tell you the truth,” he says.

School didn’t always hold his attention. “I was a rather bad student,” he admits. But then two subjects changed everything: history, because it simply happened, and chemistry, because it offered something irresistible: “you could mix things up, make a stink, and blow things up.” He and a few friends began turning his bedroom into a laboratory of small explosions and improvised fireworks; the reckless joy of boys who had discovered a messy form of wonder. “The funny thing is,” he says, “each of us became an academic chemist.”

That joy in experimentation never left him. Science became one of the great forces of Gideon’s life. He entered the field just as Nuclear Magnetic Resonance (NMR) was emerging, a technique that allowed chemists to see molecular structures in ways they never had before. “I was one of the early chemists who started using this to solve problems,” he says. “That was why I became well-known quite quickly.”

When he speaks about his work, he describes it with an exhilaration, as if he can see the memories dancing in front of him. “We were always in the forefront.” He recalls the chemistry departments in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s staying alive late into the night, with students and faculty alike pulled along by the thrill of discovery.

At the time, public investment in research created room for ideas to flourish and for young scientists to build lives in discovery. “You could get money to pursue research,” he says. It was a golden age—a world where curiosity was rewarded with possibility. While consulting for Goodyear, Gideon helped solve a dangerous problem with airplane tires that were bursting on landing. “I knew about the catalysts because we were interested in lithium compounds,” he explained. The solutions he and his partner implemented “must have saved the country millions in deaths, injuries, aircraft damage and so on.”

For all the exhilaration of scientific discovery, some of the deepest joy in Gideon’s life came from building a life with Alice. He tells their shared story with warmth and a glint of mischief. When she first opened the door to him, he says, she later confessed that she thought to herself “she’d like to have one of those.” A year later, they were married.

“In the beginning you’re in love,” he says, “and then later on you’re just best friends.” Alice died in 2016, but his admiration for her is unmistakable — for her mind, her ambition, and the life they built together.

Gideon speaks proudly of his children and grandchildren, of their intelligence, their individuality, and the ways they surprised him. But he is also candid about regret. “Probably should have paid more attention to my children,” he says. Gideon’s honesty is one of the qualities that makes him so compelling. He doesn’t try to pretend that life can be smoothed into a polished lesson.

Judaism runs through Gideon’s life as a culture, an inheritance, and a way of belonging. His father “knew the entire Torah by heart” a legacy of his Orthodox upbringing in Munich. At Beth Tikvah, Gideon continues to learn, read, argue, and think. The Jewish habits of interpretation and questioning seem to suit him.

Gideon remains animated by the same forces that shaped the child mixing chemicals in his bedroom. He talks eagerly about science, public research, energy, electric cars, heat pumps, and the future of universities. He still writes, questions, and critiques. He still wonders.

“I tell you one thing I regret,” he says, half-smirking. “I never bought myself a Miata.”

Gideon’s life has been shaped by history, sharpened by science, and sustained by curiosity. He has spent a lifetime asking questions others had not yet learned to ask. And even now, when he speaks about discovery, that youthful spark returns.

The experiment, it seems, is not over yet.

---

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

Gideon Fraenkel was interviewed on May 20, 2026 by Rabbi Rick Kellner and Hannah Karr.

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.

Tanya Shats, Social Action Committee Chair

Prior to joining Beth Tikvah, I had never heard of Mitzvah Day. My Jewish learning looked very different, and I mostly understood mitzvot in terms of how one celebrates holidays, prays, or follows specific rules. There were many times when I worried that if I couldn’t observe certain mitzvot, like keeping Shabbat, Hashem might view me as somehow less than. I often wondered what truly makes someone “good” and what my larger role in the world might be. I had never heard the phrase tikkun olam, though I was very familiar with tzedakah and the important role that giving back plays in Jewish life.

After the pandemic shutdown ended, our family began actively participating at Beth Tikvah to help our son build a Jewish identity and community. He joined Religious School, began learning Hebrew with Morah Daniel, and truly enjoyed the fun family activities. When I was first asked whether we would be coming to Mitzvah Day, I shared that I had no idea what it was and asked if it was open to children. I was told not only that children were welcome, but that the day was intentionally designed to help children learn how they, too, can give back. I was hooked. I attended the first year, co‑chaired the second and third years, and now have the privilege of leading it.

On Sunday, April 12, Beth Tikvah hosted another successful and well‑attended Mitzvah Day. The social hall was filled to capacity with children laughing, completing meaningful projects, and parents connecting with one another while learning about local nonprofits organizations.

In total, we offered more than 12 project stations benefiting organizations such as Nationwide Children’s Hospital, Alicia’s Closet, Wexner Heritage Village, Action Ohio, Worthington Resource Pantry, and Friends of the Shelter. We also hosted creative stations where participants made kindness rocks to share, thank you cards for first responders, and more than 150 Tikvah Totes care packages. There are truly no words to capture the joy of watching children feel empowered to help others, or of hearing parents express their desire to replicate these projects in their own homes and communities.

This day was made possible through the generous support of Beth Tikvah families and staff, whose donations and supplies brought these projects to life. Thank you to the Women of Beth Tikvah, Brotherhood, Shishim, Rabbi Karen Martin, the Garden Buds, and the many volunteers who helped plan, organize, and carry out the day. We are also deeply grateful to the nonprofit partners who joined us and shared the impact of these efforts on the families they serve.

I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to everyone who contributed to the Social Action Fund. Your generosity sustains this work and helps ensure that we can continue making a difference in the future.

Tara Rozen, Board President

I am thrilled to announce that last week, both Morissa Frieberg‑Vance and Rabbi Rick Kellner have extended their contracts with Beth Tikvah, ensuring continued strength and stability in our educational and spiritual leadership!

Since joining our community in 2011, Rabbi Rick Kellner has made a meaningful and lasting impact on Beth Tikvah. He has strengthened our social action efforts, guided our children through Religious School, and supported our families through every life‑cycle moment—from baby namings and b’nei mitzvah to weddings and funerals. Rabbi Rick also teaches several Adult Learning classes each year and leads our community through complex issues of antisemitism, Israel, and Holocaust education—both within our building and throughout the greater community. Through services, music, and teaching, he continues to create meaningful ritual experiences.

Morissa Frieberg‑Vance, our Director of Education & Lifelong Learning, has been keeping our Religious School vibrant, engaging, and relevant for the past 14 years. In addition to her skilled leadership in our Religious School she oversees our Adult Learning programming, ensuring that our adults have meaningful opportunities for learning and social connection throughout the year. Morissa coordinates classes taught by both of our rabbis, herself, and the lay leaders she brings in. Her programming covers topics ranging from Jewish films, yoga, meditation, women’s studies, and more. We are thrilled that she has extended her contract with us through May 2031.

This past year, his mentorship and partnership with Rabbi Karen Martin have been especially evident in the innovative engagement opportunities and enriched Shabbat and holiday experiences they have brought to Beth Tikvah. We are delighted that Rabbi Rick has extended his contract through June 2036.

Please join us in celebrating their continued leadership and the strength it brings to our congregation!

Warmly,

Tara Rozen

President, Board of Trustees

June 1, 2026

We’re approaching this 4th of July, America’s 250th, at a time of intense division and polarization in our country. Trust in our fellow Americans and our civic institutions is low, and our democracy is under unprecedented threat. If ever there was a time for American Jews to step up, the time is now.

Jews have been part of America’s civil fabric and pushing to ensure civil liberties since the first Jewish community came as refugees from the Dutch colony of Recife to New Amsterdam in 1654. Peter Stuyvesant, the colony’s governor, complained to the directors of the Dutch West India Company, saying these ragged refugees were “anti-Christs” and would be a financial burden on the nascent colony. He denied them permission to acquire land, engage in trade with other colonies, and serve in the militia. Undeterred, the refugees wrote to influential Jews back in the Netherlands and requested aid in appealing Stuyvesant’s decision. Those Jews, many of whom were investors and trustees in the Dutch West India Company, prevailed, and the directors of Dutch West India Company told Stuyvesant that he must allow the Jews to “travel and trade…live and remain provided the poor among them shall not become a burden to the company or the community, but be supported by their own nation¹.”

As Rabbi Dr. Gary P. Zola said in his 2004 remarks on the 350th anniversary of Jews in the United States, the character of New World capitalism trumped Mr. Stuyvesant’s Old World prejudices.²

Despite the explicit orders of the Dutch West India Company, the Jews of New Amsterdam had to continually advocate and petition for permission to travel, trade with neighboring colonies, and own property.

In 1678, after the British took control in New York, Asser Levy was given permission to build a slaughterhouse and obtain a butcher’s license, along with an exemption from slaughtering hogs, as that was against his religion. He became a burgher in the colony and thus was able to serve on a jury. He did so for a case in which Peter Stuyvesant was the defendant.

“Jews, like Asser Levy and his contemporaries, wanted more than toleration. They conceived of themselves as full-fledged citizens, and they conducted themselves as such,” writes Rabbi Dr. Zola. And in doing so, “these Jewish citizens helped to define the meaning of political and civil liberty in this country³.”

Our Jewish forebears did this by insisting on their rights and religious freedoms, and by engaging actively in civic life. It is time for us to do the same. We need to join the conversation around civic life and shared civic values, protect our democracy and the right of all citizens to vote safely and without fear, and we must continue to insist on the separation of Church and State so that our students can learn without religious intimidation or coercion.

Today, there are a number of ways to get involved:

• Join us on August 9 at the Worthington Interfaith Neighbors Festival of Nations at the Village Green Park. Stay after to celebrate the conclusion of faith250 in a multi-faith ritual to mark the end of four months of collaboratively studying America’s foundational texts with Worthington Presbyterian Church, St. John’s Episcopal Church, All Saints Lutheran Church, and Lord of Life Lutheran Church. Join us in the fall as we continue these important conversations.
• Support the Reform Movement’s Every Voice Every Vote campaign, register for the upcoming Protect Our Vote Training, and let me know if you are interested in joining our team as we look toward the 2026 election and beyond. You can also sign up to be a poll worker. You can host a postcard party to encourage registered voters to vote.
• Help us ensure Ohio’s public school students have the freedom to belong, learn, and practice faith freely without government influence. As of writing, HB 531, the School Chaplain Act, is in committee in the House. Contact your legislators today and tell them to keep untrained and uncertified chaplains out of our schools. If you do one thing today, contact your legislators about HB 486, the Charlie Kirk American Heritage Act, which contains several efforts to undermine the separation between Church and State, including permitting educators in public schools and universities to promote “the positive impact of Christianity” on American history. This bill has already passed the House and is in the Senate Committee.

Written by Rabbi Karen Martin of Congregation Beth Tikvah

¹ “Directors of the Dutch West India Company to Peter Stuyvesant, 26 April 1655,” in A Documentary History of the Jews in the United States, 1654–1875, ed. Morris U. Schappes (New York: Schocken Books, 1971).

² Gary Phillip Zola, “Historical Reflections on 350 Years of American Jewish History,” in Honoring Tradition, Embracing Modernity, ed. Beth Lieberman and Hara Person (New York: CCAR Press, 2017), 553.

³ Zola, “Historical Reflections,” 553–555.

May 18, 2026

It’s a rare thing that a rabbi comes into a well-established congregation and gets to step into a role that wasn’t already designed and adapted for someone else. Rabbi Kellner and I had discussed ideas and roles, of course, but in truth I walked into my first day here without a clear idea of what being Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Assistant Rabbi would mean for me, for my family, and for this community. 

I planned to start slowly, to get to know our community – our people, the professional team, Morissa and Rabbi Kellner, and to learn how things are done and where I might fit in. 

What I learned very quickly is that Beth TIkvah is special. I learned that Barb Mindel always makes sure new folks are welcomed and have someone to sit with. I learned that Shelly Igdaloff and many others are incredibly gracious as I continue to learn names. I learned that our community genuinely wants to spend time together, which is why Kehilla Connect is thriving on Sunday mornings. This year as we worked to reinvigorate our Caring Community, I was blown away when we put out a call for volunteers who would be willing to bring a meal to those in need in our community, and in just a couple of weeks we had more than 70 people sign up. Many communities talk about being warm and welcoming, about caring for- and being supported by- community, but Beth Tikvah lives these values with integrity and conviction. 

We are a community that balances a warm heart with a sharp mind. Our Adult Learning schedule is second to none. I was shocked to learn we offer Adult B’nai Mitzvah classes every two or three years because we have so many interested that it doesn’t take long to hit critical mass. Please trust me when I tell you this is not common. Rabbi Kellner has offered several classes this year that invited us to engage with the complexities of Israel’s history and political life with depth and nuance while still holding fast to our commitment to Jewish Peoplehood. In a world that seems flooded with shocking headlines and black-and-white simplifications, our community remains committed to deep understanding rather than facile platitudes or disengagement. 

With increased antisemitism, no one would fault us for turning inward. But Beth Tikvah is indomitable. Instead, we launched Free Community Meals, first here at Beth Tikvah and now graciously hosted by our friends at Lord of Life Lutheran Church. Not once in the last five months has it taken more than an hour for our volunteer spots to fill up. Hundreds participated in our Mitzvah Day in April, led by our Social Justice Chair, Tanya Shatz with projects that supported nearly a dozen partner organizations. Thank you to all those who volunteered and participated. I spoke with Erin Ulvi of the Worthington Food Pantry last week who told me that Congregation Beth Tikvah is one of their strongest and most consistent supporters and that our annual High Holy Day Donation Drive is their biggest of the year. Also, she mentioned they need peanut butter.   

I could go on and on about what makes Beth Tikvah special, but Tara only gave me 5 minutes.

Through all of this I have learned that we are an exceptional community because we are blessed with exceptional members and leaders. We could not do any of this without you all. 

Rabbi Kellner has been a kind and thoughtful mentor, and he and Morissa Frieberg-Vance have warmly welcomed me as a thought partner. Debbie, Hannah, and Rhonda work tirelessly to support all we do and make it look easy. Julie’s music and vision have enriched our services in so many ways, and John and Debbie’s voices have brought beauty and warmth to our services. 

Working with our board members and affinity group leaders has been a delight this year as we have worked together to bring their visions to life as we serve this community. Our lay leaders have shown time and again their thoughtful dedication to this work, and our mission of empowering people to live and learn Jewishly and to make our world a better place. 

Thank you all for welcoming me and my family into this extraordinary community and for giving me the opportunity to serve as your first Assistant Rabbi. I cannot wait to see how we continue to grow together.

Rabbi Karen Martin’s Annual Meeting Remarks.

May 1, 2026

For Claudia Roden, food has always been a form of memory, history, and teachings passed lovingly from one generation to the next. Born in Cairo in 1936 to a Jewish family rooted in Egyptian culture, Roden became one of the most influential voices in documenting Jewish and Middle Eastern cuisine, at a moment when much of that heritage was in danger of disappearing.

After her family was forced to leave Egypt in the 1950s, Roden realized that recipes carried what exile often strips away: stories, customs, culture, and identity. She began recording the foods of her community to safeguard a way of life. As she later reflected, “I wrote because I didn’t want our food to be forgotten,” (Hadassah Magazine).

Roden’s groundbreaking A Book of Middle Eastern Food and later Jewish cookbooks treated recipes with the seriousness of sacred texts. Each dish came with context on who made it, when it was served, and what it meant. Roden recognized that food is a form of cultural transmission, much like Torah itself. “Food is a way of keeping memory alive,” she explained, especially for communities scattered by migration and loss (Tablet).

These themes resonate especially on Shavuot, the festival that celebrates receiving Torah and the responsibility to carry it forward. Just as Torah is studied, interpreted, and handed down, Roden understood Jewish food as something learned and taught through care and repetition. Shavuot’s dairy traditions echo her belief that what we pass on at the dinner table shapes who we become.

“What else do we have to give in life other than good food?” Roden once asked (Jewish News).

On Shavuot, Claudia Roden reminds us that Torah is found in kitchens, recipes, and the act of teaching someone how to cook a dish that carries a story.

Sources

• Jewish Women’s Archive. “Claudia Roden”
• Hadassah Magazine. “Claudia Roden, Culinary Icon”
• Tablet. “Claudia Roden Comes Home”
• Jewish Refugee Blog. “How Claudia Roden Preserved an Egyptian Passover Table”
• Jewish News. “Claudia Roden”

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Torah Trailblazers: Remarkable Jewish Women is a monthly feature published in Tikvah Topics. This feature was created in 2024 by Hannah Karr, Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Director of Marketing & Community Engagement as a way to spotlight the significance of historical and modern-day Jewish women.

May 1, 2026

Dear Congregation Beth Tikvah,

As I sit down to write this, I am filled with a mix of gratitude, joy, and a bit of sadness. Saying goodbye is never easy—especially to people who have been such an important part of my life for the past five years.

As I prepare to close this chapter and begin a new journey, I want to take a moment to express my heartfelt thanks to each of you—both members and staff. To the members of Beth Tikvah: meeting you, speaking with you, and spending time together has felt like being part of a family. To the staff—Debbie, Hannah, Rhonda, Rabbi Rick, Rabbi Karen, Morissa, and Alisa—working alongside such caring, passionate, talented, supportive, and inspiring colleagues has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my career. I will always cherish the moments we shared.

Although life is taking me in a new direction, please know that distance will never change the bond we share. The Congregation Beth Tikvah family will always be in my heart and in my prayers.

While I am excited about what lies ahead, I will truly miss our daily interactions and the friendships we have built. I leave with nothing but fond memories and deep appreciation.

Wishing you all continued success, happiness, and fulfillment in everything you do.

Warm Regards,

Everett Smith

May 1, 2026

More than 65 members of Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Legacy Circle gathered on Friday, April 24, for a meaningful evening of Shabbat dinner, prayer, and reflection, celebrating some of the stories and commitments that continue to sustain the congregation across generations.

During the Shabbat service, an address was given by Legacy Circle members Jane Mitchell and Michael Alexander, who shared their personal journey to Beth Tikvah and the story behind the endowment they established to support Jewish education.

“There are a couple of things you need to know about us to understand our journey to Beth Tikvah and the creation of our endowment,” Jane began. One was her path as “a Jew by choice,” and the other was the many years the couple spent moving across the country for education before ultimately settling in Columbus.

When Jane and Michael first arrived in the area, they came to Beth Tikvah seeking a place to name their child. “Almost from the very beginning, we felt at home here,” Jane shared. “Everyone was so welcoming.” That sense of belonging became the foundation for decades of involvement, from teaching Sunday School and creating new programs to raising their children, and now grandchildren, within the Beth Tikvah community.

Reflecting on their decision to establish a legacy gift, Jane explained that when Michael retired, he wanted to do “something meaningful that would create a lasting legacy and support future generations.” For them, Beth Tikvah was the natural choice.

Their endowment focuses on access to Jewish education. “We wanted to ensure that every child could receive a Jewish education,” Jane said, emphasizing that no child should be denied learning opportunities due to financial barriers or special educational needs. Drawing from her 40‑year career as a special education teacher, she spoke passionately about inclusion and equity.

“As someone whose own daughter was nearly denied an education because I was not considered ‘Jewish enough,’” Jane shared, “I felt strongly about ensuring that all children…have access to religious education.”

The Michael Alexander and Jane Mitchell Endowment for the Education of All Jewish Children reflects the spirit of Legacy Circle Shabbat itself: gratitude for what has been received, and a commitment to planting seeds so that Jewish life at Beth Tikvah continues to thrive for generations to come.

Those interested in learning more about making a legacy gift or establishing an endowment are invited to reach out to Legacy Co‑Chairs Carol and Andy, or to Executive Director Debbie Vinocur. They would be glad to continue the conversation and help explore meaningful ways to support Beth Tikvah’s future.

Written by Hannah Karr, Director of Marketing & Community Engagement