Arrivals: Living by the Jewish calendar

“While my life was always ruled by the Jewish calendar,” says Vernon, “we always had to deal with living in the United State in a more secular culture, which was dominated not by our culture."

By ALAN ROSENBAUM
An Israeli flag is seen on the first of Israel's El Al Airlines order of 16 Boeing 787-9 Dreamliner jets, as it lands at Ben Gurion International Airport, near Tel Aviv (photo credit: REUTERS/AMIR COHEN)
An Israeli flag is seen on the first of Israel's El Al Airlines order of 16 Boeing 787-9 Dreamliner jets, as it lands at Ben Gurion International Airport, near Tel Aviv
(photo credit: REUTERS/AMIR COHEN)
‘When we arrived in Israel with Nefesh B’Nefesh,” says Bryna Kurtz, “our eight-year-old granddaughter said, ‘Savta, when did you decide to come to Israel?’ I answered, ‘About forty-five years ago. It was always part of the dream.’”
Bryna and Vernon Kurtz met as teens in their native Toronto and have been together since. They attended York University, and arrived in Israel in 1971 to study at the Melton Educational Program at Hebrew University. Although he had been accepted to law school, Kurtz, who had grown up in an observant family – his family was affiliated with Toronto’s Orthodox Shaarei Shomayim synagogue – became involved in Camp Ramah and USY, and decided that he wanted, in his words, “to teach Yiddishkeit.”
In 1972, Vernon was accepted into the rabbinical program at the Jewish Theological Seminary. The couple married in June 1973 and returned to Israel in 1974, where Vernon studied at Neve Shechter and Bryna studied for her master’s degree in Jewish history.
“The thought of living in Israel was there,” says Vernon, “but you have to make a living.” The Kurtzes returned to the United States, and Vernon, ordained by the seminary in 1976, went on to enjoy a successful career as a Conservative rabbi in the Chicago area, before retiring in 2019.
Though he had been accepted to law school, Kurtz has never regretted his decision to choose the rabbinate.
“I was never disappointed,” he says. “What other job is there that you can do what you really love to do – which is to study and teach – and really affect people’s lives?” Kurtz enjoyed being a rabbi, though he admits, “Sometimes I made my mark on the lives of the congregants, and sometimes I didn’t.”
He was very pleased with the multi-generational nature of his work.
“When you stay long enough in a community, it makes a difference. One of last things I did was name a baby girl. I had named the mother, officiated at her bat mitzvah, conducted her wedding and named her daughter. It was very fulfilling.”
Throughout his rabbinic career, Kurtz, who is aligned with the more traditional wing of Conservative Judaism, has maintained contact with all branches of the Jewish world and was active in the Jewish Federation and interfaith relations.
“I can go into the Orthodox world, I can go into the Reform world and people know me,” he says. “I’m comfortable, and it’s really very important.”
Kurtz remained connected to Israel, leading congregational and rabbinic trips, and he became a member of the Board of Governors of the Jewish Agency and studied in the Hartman Fellowship program over three summers. Bryna’s sister made aliyah in 1978, and the family visited Israel frequently for family celebrations. When their oldest daughter made aliyah in 1999 (their younger daughter lives in the Boston area), Vernon and Bryna began to consider the idea of retiring to Israel. Some 10 years ago, they purchased their apartment in Jerusalem, where they live today.
Bryna began her career in education and worked as a day school principal in Chicago and as a teacher, before switching careers to accounting. Speaking of her husband’s rabbinic career, she says, “He was never home in the evenings. I always put the kids to bed. He would come home for dinner at 6:15 p.m. and leave again at 7 p.m.” Vernon agrees, noting, “There was a struggle to keep family time along with all the responsibilities.”
Before retiring, Vernon took a six-month sabbatical from his position, which allowed him to pull back. Does he miss giving speeches from the pulpit? “Not as much as I thought,” he smiles. “For 43 years, I never had breakfast with my wife. Now, I get up in the morning, I go to minyan, and we have breakfast together. We have our evenings.”
 
Despite their meticulous planning, Vernon and Bryna’s aliyah hit a bump in the road when Vernon suffered a heart attack five weeks after they arrived, in July of 2019.
“I tested out the Israeli medical system much quicker than I wished to,” he says wryly, “and have been overall very satisfied. It obviously changed my life for a few months with restrictions, rehab and doctor appointments, but thankfully I have mostly moved on.”
Bryna and Vernon welcomed the change from living life by the largely secular American calendar to maintaining a Jewish calendar in Israel.
“While my life was always ruled by the Jewish calendar,” says Vernon, “we always had to deal with living in the United State in a more secular culture, which was dominated not by our culture. Here it is all dominated by our culture, whether you are religious or not. As you move toward Shabbat, you can feel Shabbat as it is getting closer – even if you are not religious.”
For Vernon, the historical significance of living in Israel was brought home when he participated with visiting rabbis from the US who were touring the excavations of the City of David near the Shiloach Pool.
 
“I looked up at the steps that they are excavating, where visitors walked to the Temple thousands of years ago, and I said to myself, ‘Wow – that was 3,000 years ago and I live in this city, and those were my ancestors who took that trip.’”
While Kurtz appreciates living in Israel with the Jewish calendar, he says that Israelis know very little about Diaspora Judaism, and do not appreciate some of its qualities.
“They know some of its negative images, but not the strengths, relating to volunteerism and philanthropy and pluralism, and a sense of tolerance in religious circles that this country could use, which is why I am involved with the Jewish People Policy Institute, the Hartman Institute and the Jewish Agency.”
Comparing Israel of the early 1970s that they visited as students to the Israel of today, Kurtz says that Israel then was still somewhat depressed after the Yom Kippur War, and a bit primitive, compared with what they were used to in America.
“Today, except for this period with the coronavirus, Israelis are mostly optimistic and according to the surveys, mostly happy.”
While Bryna still works remotely with her accounting firm in the US, she is spending time teaching English to her grandchildren and trying to serve as a “counter to the black and white that they get in National Religious schools.” She has also been taking classes at the Pardes Institute and at Herzog College.
Bryna says that the hardest adjustment that she has to make has been the six-day week. She chuckles and says, “You can never remember the day of the week.” Vernon studies, and teaches at the Conservative movement’s Fuchsberg Center and at Machon Schechter and serves as a member of the board of the Jewish Agency and the Jewish People Policy Institute. During the Coronavirus pandemic, he is teaching and taking classes online.
Both Vernon and Bryna say that the fact that they were fluent in Hebrew has made their aliyah much easier, and they recommend that aliyah preparation should include a good passing knowledge of Hebrew. The fact that most American Jews do not speak Hebrew, says Vernon, is one of the reasons for the growing distance between the two groups.
Before their aliyah, Vernon and Bryna would stay in their Jerusalem apartment during their frequent visits. “It was always a great pleasure to open the door here when I had been away from here for a long period of time, and say I am home,” he says. “When we were back in Chicago, we walked into our own house, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. This is home.”