STS History

The Twentieth Century was one of turbulent and triumphant times in the history of the Jewish people. During the first decades of the 1900s, many of our ancestors crossed the oceans and left their homelands to experience a new freedom for themselves and their children as American Jews. Many more did not escape from Europe in time and perished during the Holocaust. In 1948, the world witnessed the birth of the State of Israel. 1948 is a significant date in Shomrei Torah's history, too. Because it was in that year, in the center of the San Fernando Valley, that a group of Jewish families joined together and founded Temple Beth Ami in Reseda. Ten years later, and a few miles west, a group of 25 families chartered the creation of Congregation Beth Kodesh in Canoga Park. Over the years, the congregations established schools, youth groups, Sisterhoods, Men's Clubs, and Senior Clubs. Seeing a need for a Jewish Day School in the Valley, Rabbi Eli and Penina Schochet founded Kadima Hebrew Academy in Woodland Hills. In the early 1980s, there was a vision of moving west and building a larger, more modern facility to accomodate the growing needs of Congregation Beth Kodesh. Land was purchased and plans to build a new campus began. It took many years for the surrounding neighborhoods and streets to be developed, for the property to be graded, and for construction to be completed. In 1994, Congregation Beth Kodesh and Temple Beth Ami came together to form Shomrei Torah Synagogue, and thus the "new" congregation dedicated its building in June, 1996. After many years of the spiritual leadership of Rabbi Eli Schochet, Rabbi David Vorspan, Cantor Avrum Schwartz, and Cantor Tibor Moses, our present Rabbi, Richard Camras ascended to the Bima to guide the congregation into the new millenium. The past provides us with rich tradition. The present gives us opportunities to explore our Jewish identity in today's world. The future is ours to forge, for ourselves and the next generation. At Shomrei Torah, we have joined together to grow as Jews and to add meaning to our lives. All are welcome to our community.

 

Rabbi Schochet

 

We asked Rabbi Schochet to share afew thoughts about the history of our Shul. This is a wonderful story. "In 1960, newly ordained at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, I was presented with two pulpit options in the LA area. Highland Park and Canoga Park. What a contrast! The Highland Park shul was an established, functioning synagogue in an established Jewish community. As for the Canoga Park shul? Back in 1960, there were more acorn trees than people in Canoga Park, more horses than Jews, CBK was more of a pioneering venture than it was a shul. But thank G-d, I chose CBK." How the far west San Fernando Valley has grown as a center of Jewish life during the past 40 years, and what a special role STS has played in that growth. From such modest beginnings, our little itinerant shul finally found itself a home in a "converted" church on Shoup Avenue, and then, a dream came true when we built a truly magnificent and inspirational edifice on Valley Circle Blvd. Throughout the years, education has been our priority…a superb early educational program, a quality religious school, our "birthing" of Kadima Hebrew Academy, the first Jewish day school in the west San Fernando Valley. "Pride in being Jewish" has always been our hallmark. We never suffered from a sense of "ritual embarrassment". We wore our yarmulkes openly, proudly, and colorfully as we tried to instill within our children a sense of pride and joy in their Judaic heritage." All through the years we were mindful of the importance of a sense of joy in being Jewish. Well aware of the fact that "too many oys, not enough joys" results in far too many young Jews forsaking their Judaic heritage upon maturity. Therefore, STS was always a warm and happy place in which to be…a place wherein we felt at home, a place that our children felt wanted and loved. I thank G-d that back in 1960, I chose Canoga Park over Highland Park. It has been my privilege to share four decades with beautiful human beings whose friendship I treasure, and to have been a part of a sacred pioneering venture that has helped bring Torah and a positive Jewish identity to the far west San Fernando Valley.

 


In March 2001 Rabbi Schochet authored a short essay that was published in the Los Angeles Times. The subject deals with his personal experience as a Cancer patient.

 

A Question About Learning, an Answer About Living
By: ELIJAH J. SCHOCHET


Aaaah! The allure of retirement!

Balmy far-off tropical beaches and exotic waterfalls.

Time to leisurely peruse over 101 unread books.

Time to take the grandchildren to Kings hockey games at Staples Center.

The allure of retirement was irresistible, and so I retired after 39 years in the rabbinate.

Enter reality!

The oncologist was compassionate but firm: "I hate to say this, Rabbi, but you have a large mass in your abdomen. It is cancer--non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. We have to start you on chemotherapy immediately."

This was decidedly not the sort of retirement I had looked forward to savoring.

Many years ago, I had a rabbi / teacher who would frequently pose the question, "Nu, so tell me, what have you learned from your experience?"

It was a discomforting question to consider, particularly since it was invariably raised in connection with negative experiences, and so I found myself resisting any consideration of it.

However, this question has recently come to echo and reecho persistently in my mind with painful specificity . . . . "What have I learned from my cancer? What has cancer taught me?"

Cancer has taught me a number of things. Things embarrassingly simple, even trite, to try to recount.

Cancer has taught me a newfound appreciation for the simple, elemental pleasures of life. Who needs far-away tropical beaches? The shore at Port Hueneme is just fine. Exotic waterfalls? Exuberant grandchildren jumping in a swimming pool can create a cascade of water just as impressive as Yosemite's finest falls. Even watering one's front lawn is no longer a chore. It is truly a delight, particularly when contrasted with weeks spent lying indoors in a hospital bed.

Cancer has taught me a newfound appreciation for the blessing attendant upon navigating the "slow lane" of life. The normal irritations and interruptions impacting upon one's schedule no longer seem so bothersome. The wise sage of the Book of Ecclesiastes phrased it aptly; "The race is not to the swift." How true! Indeed it is the slower finishers who seem to experience more and enjoy more of life. Therefore they may well be the true winners of the race.

Cancer has taught me to have a deep and abiding respect for the doctors and nurses of the oncology wards, not "just" for their remarkable skills but for their unfailing good spirits and encouraging smiles. I once wondered why anyone would choose oncology as a specialty. Why indeed? Perhaps precisely because of the opportunity afforded one to give to those most desperately in need of receiving.

Early in my career as a rabbi, I visited a member of my synagogue in a local hospital. He greeted me with a declaration and with a question: "Guess what, Rabbi. I've got the 'Big C.' My question is whether I am going to die storming in a rage into the night or whether I will surrender and die in peace. Tell me, which should it be?"

However ineptly, I tried to frame a dual answer for him, telling him that it is all right to be angry. It is perfectly natural to feel anger. However, at the same time (and here I paraphrased a Talmudic teaching) whereas a child enters the world with clenched fists as if striving to possess all, the elderly depart this earth with limp open hands, fully cognizant of the fact that there are no pockets in shrouds. So ideally one should strive to die at peace, at peace with life and if possible with death itself. Indeed, in his essay, "Death as Homecoming," Abraham Joshua Heschel refers to death as an "arrival," a "celebration," as "entering a beginning," even declaring that "for a pious man it is a privilege to die."

What will be my own prognosis? After encountering the 20th century miracles of medicine--chemotherapy, stem-cell transplantation and radiation--will my health now permit me to savor the fantasies of retirement that I once envisioned? (Fantasy, shmantasy, let me just savor the familiar and mundane joys of routine life.) Or will the verdict be otherwise?

I cannot possibly know, but I do resolve to live more appreciatively, leisurely and givingly than ever before until the arrival, hopefully delayed, of the ultimate "homecoming" that awaits us all.

 

Cantor Schwartz

 

Cantor Emeritus Avrum Schwartz has been with Shomrei Torah Synagogue since it was formed. Although Cantor Schwartz might want to be known first as a tennis and basketball player/coach, and second as a thrower of ice cream parties, we think his light shines brightest when he is working with our Bible Contest participants and as a teacher. Cantor is still active at STS. He teaches as well as running our successful minyan program. His "Food and Thought" Bible study group is still going strong and will soon enter its THIRD DECADE. Cantor Schwartz has studied the life and writings of Abraham Joshua Heschel and is considered an expert in that field.