Jews close the book on another year, celebrate the new

PORTSMOUTH — Some say it was received by Moses directly from God, while others call it divinely inspired human handiwork. But there's no dispute about the Torah's importance to Jews, or the joyfulness at Temple Sinai, where members this week celebrated Simchat Torah , the annual Jewish holiday honoring the sacred text.

"Nothing conveys Jewish attachment to Torah more literally than Simchat Torah, which means 'rejoicing in the Torah,' " said Dr. Norbert Newfield , a past president of the synagogue. "It's one of the most joyous of holidays."

Simchat Torah, which comes after the more widely known holy days of Rosh Hashana , Yom Kippur and Sukkot , marks the conclusion of the year long cycle of Torah readings at synagogue services. The Torah consists of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy , which also are known as the Five Books of Moses .

While the holiday is not among those specified in the Torah, "there is a biblical mandate for this being a happy time," said Jonathan Dauber , a Judaic studies scholar at Virginia Wesleyan College in Virginia Beach. He said that "from a Jewish perspective, it's inconceivable that finishing the Torah would not be a happy time."

Depending on the synagogue or particular tradition within Judaism, the decorum of regular worship services makes way at Simchat Torah for revelry that may include singing, eating, drinking and, at Chabad Lubavitch of Tidewater, Zorba-the-Greek-style dancing by adults and children alike.

"Our feet may both be off the floor at the same time. We're actually jumping with joy," said Chabad's Rabbi Levi Brashevitzky , whose Orthodox synagogue, in Norfolk, observed Simchat Torah on Tuesday night. "You celebrate by actually being the feet of the Torah, by lifting up the Torah and carrying it, dancing with it."

The festivities were less frisky on Monday for the Simchat Torah Eve service at Temple Sinai, a Reform synagogue on Portsmouth's Hatton Point Road .

"Now our cycle ends and begins again, with song and dance," Rabbi Arthur Z. Steinberg said as he began his 26th Simchat Torah service in the modern-style sanctuary of wood, glass and brick.

"Eternal Torah! The more we hold you close, the more you lift us up. We will be glad, we will rejoice," responded about 30 congregants who defied rainy, chilly weather to attend.

After more readings from a prayer book, Steinberg spun the ark – a big, hollow sphere that rotated on its axis – and lifted out the synagogue's two Torahs, each more than 300 years old. Each scroll, consisting of scores of skin parchment pages glued together, was rolled around twin dowels with double-ended handles.

Followed by two men who carried the scrolls, Steinberg led congregants in a march that snaked up and down the sanctuary aisles. Wa ving little blue flags with the Star of David, they sang songs from other Jewish holidays as well as a tune usually heard at Sabbath services on Friday nights. "Bim, bom, bim, bom, bim, Shabbat shalom," they sang: "Sabbath peace!"

The procession completed, Steinberg recited in Hebrew the last words of the year's Torah readings – and began the cycle afresh in the same breath with the first words of Genesis. "In the beginning, God created the earth …," he translated.

Yet the crowning moment of the evening was to come.

"The Torah does not belong to me," Steinberg said. "The Torah belongs to every member of the congregation, and generically the Torah belongs to the Jewish people. I want you to feel it."

Knowing what was coming, congregants formed a double line down the center aisle. As Steinberg held one end of a Torah, Newfield held the other and shuffled backward between the lines, unrolling the scroll that was hand-copied in the era of the Quakers' arrival in Colonial Pennsylvania.

With palms up, men, women and children held the Torah in their extended arms. Breathed over it. Felt its slightly oily texture, examined the neat, black Hebrew lettering, listened as Steinberg translated the exposed text.

"Here, Adam and Eve are talking about the tree of knowledge of good and evil … here is the story of Noah," he said, working his way down the parchment. "Here, messengers are telling Sarah and Abraham that they're going to be having a baby."

It was a moment that congregant Harriet McCullough said she looks forward to every year.

"Not a lot of synagogues do this, give everybody an opportunity to hold the scroll," McCullough said after the service. "It's pretty powerful, even the parchment itself. It feels living."