Topic: Customs &amp; Traditions

Published date - Sep 2024

In this film we explore Jewish perspectives on climate change through the lens of religious teachings and ethics. Judaism emphasises the concept of Tikkun Olam—the responsibility to repair and care for the world. The Jewish faith teaches that humans are stewards of God’s creation, tasked with preserving the environment for future generations. Jewish commitment to sustainability is an important value and the avoidance of waste (Bal Tashchit), and the moral obligation to act in ways that reduce harm to the planet is integral to the religion. Through these core values, the Jewish tradition calls for proactive efforts to combat climate change, emphasising both individual responsibility and collective action to protect the Earth for all living beings.

By linking spiritual values with environmental activism Climate Change: Judaism shows how faith can inspire a greener, more sustainable future.

Transcript

Climate Change: Judaism

Rabbi Mark Goldsmith: Jewish teachings start with the idea that humanity has a responsibility to nature and to the environment around us. Our foundation story has the idea of a human being being created and then being given responsibility for the animals, for the birds, for the trees, for all the nature around them. The idea being that they're not simply a user of nature, they're a steward of nature. What we mean is that I am responsible for something. It's a little bit like you're looking after somebody at school who's new doesn't know what to do. You steward them through the day, help them to know what to do. And it's a little bit like that with nature. We steward it, we look after it, we consider it to be our responsibility.

So our Jewish teachings then continue from there. One of them that I feel is incredibly strong is the idea of bal taschit. This is the concept that as a person, you shouldn't destroy things. And that could be destroying fruit trees. And in fact, when it comes up in the Torah, that's exactly what the idea of bal taschit is about. It's set at the time of war, when you would have thought that destroying the enemy's fruit trees would be a really good idea, because then what are they going to eat? But you're not meant to do that because those fruit trees are a legacy for all humanity. Another big Jewish concept is tikkun olam, which asks the question, what are we here for? Literally, what are we here for as human beings? And we have a concept in Judaism that we are partners with God in the repair of the world, that the world was not left absolutely perfect. Instead, there were parts of the world that don't function too well, and we know that we experience it in our lives, whether it be through illness, whether it be through degradation of the environment around us. So what's our job? Le tikkun from which comes the word tikkun, which means to repair olam, the world, the universe. So what can we do to do that? And we all know that some of the choices that we make, the choice perhaps to walk to school or walk to work or take the bus rather than put another car on the road with all its emissions, will help to repair the world. The choice to be an environmental scientist and come up with great discoveries as to how we can make a difference to the future, that is, tikkun olam. But honestly, it can be as little as this package. Now, I'm not going to throw it away into a regular bin. I'll take it home and put it in the recycling. That's a little bit of tikkun olum.

In the Torah. In the book of Leviticus, there is a wonderful idea. The idea is, number one, that every seven days you need to have a day of rest. But it's not just for you as a person. That's the Shabbat we call it, or the Sabbath. You also don't do new creative work. You don't use much of the Earth's resources. You reduce the impact you have on the world, and you do that by choice. But then came the idea that every seven years we should let the lands do the same. In the ancient land of Israel. Every seven years the land wouldn't be farmed for a year. Just whatever grew naturally would be picked. But we wouldn't exploit the land. And what that enabled the land to do was for the earth to begin to recover, for the soil to recover, to be more productive for the future, because it had had the chance to rest in the current state of Israel. There were quite a few farms which still do this practice called the Shmita year. You don't plow, you don't use all the intensive techniques you would normally use to get the most out of the land, and you just pick what naturally grows there, and that's that. And then the following year you go back to your regular techniques of agriculture or whatever you need. In Judaism, there is a key prayer that every Jew is meant to say twice a day. It's called the Shema, and for us it's a declaration of one God, but especially that that one God therefore means there's a unity in all of creation, that everything is one. Everything impacts on each other. And in the Shema, in its second paragraph, it says that if you don't behave well, then the rains may not come. And we used to think, well, it doesn't really work like that, does it? But now we know there's really some truth in that, the way that humanity. And I'm not just talking about Jews. I'm talking about all of us. Behave and treat. Our planet does make a difference to the weather that we experience, and we can make a change for the positive. So eco synagogue is part of eco Judaism, and that's the idea that Judaism in our day, has got to be really responsive to the crisis of climate change, to making a difference. We do it because we want to encourage all Jews to be better environmental citizens looking after our planet better.

We're about to reach the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, and on Rosh Hashanah there is a tradition called tashlich, which is where you go to a local water source and you throw bread on the water, and the bread is meant to represent your sins, the things you've done during the year that you really regret, that you want to change for the next year and behave better. So a brilliant organization called Repair the Sea came up with an idea to unite Jewish communities all around the world, and they call it Reverse Tashlich. Why not, instead of putting something into the water, we clean up the water. They call it repair the sea, because it doesn't matter if it's a tiny brook or it's a big river, or if it's the seaside itself. Everything flows into the sea and we know our seas are becoming more and more polluted. So what we're going to do as a synagogue is we're going to a local water source in a park, which we know eventually flows into a river, and that river flows into the sea. And we're going to clean it up. And through cleaning it up as we come to celebrate the Jewish New Year. We are trying to make the world that little bit better. Our Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah tradition, has the idea that it is ha-yom harat olam the day on which the earth was conceived as if it's the earth birthday. So what better birthday present to give to the world than to clean up a local river.

Volunteer 1: We're here today in Watling Park, cleaning up the Silk Stream, which feeds into the River Thames ultimately and part of Thames 21 initiative to, you know, just to clean up the waterways. But here today, representing eco Judaism as part of our core ethos, really, of being responsible communities and caring for our environment. We want to repair the world not just through good deeds, but through environmental action, to really get our community to think more about it.

Volunteer 2: So I feel this is a lot more meaningful than throwing breadcrumbs into the stream. It's so satisfying being able to clean up a park where I live is so important because it makes me feel home, and it also makes me appreciate the nature around me.

Volunteer 3: It feels so special to be involved in something like Reverse Tashlich today with the members of the community on such a beautiful day. It makes me feel that I'm doing something good not just for myself, not just for the members of my community, but for the wider community as well. Also, it focuses me on how much rubbish we as humans throw away, how much we pollute this beautiful, wonderful planet, and particularly this beautiful park.

Volunteer 1: It's really wonderful to be here today. It's just a lovely community activity, something to do with like minded people really feel like you're making a positive impact on the local environment and just it's very healing as an individual as well as actually for the place that we're cleaning up. So it was so great to be here today, and there were some young people in the park and they saw what we were doing, and they immediately wanted to help and took some of the litter tools and helped us clean the park.

Volunteer 3: It is really important for the Jewish tradition, for Jewish faith to care about the environment. There are lots of laws and commandments starting from the Torah by taking care of the world around us. My favourite one is the Midrash from the book of Ecclesiastes Rabbah, and that Midrash talks about God taking Adam by hand and taking him through the Garden of Eden. Beautiful place. And he shows him different beautiful trees, beautiful plants, and says, look how beautiful this place is. Look after it. Do not destroy it, because if you do, there will be no one else to repay it.

Climate Change: Judaism

Video length - 10.02

Published date - Sep 2024

Meet Brother Matthew, he is a Carmelite Friar. Check out the daily routine of his life as friar. We’ll see his commitment to a life of prayer, contemplation, and service. Carmelite friar’s spend their time doing early morning prayers, time spent in quiet reflection, communal meals, and work dedicated to both spiritual and practical tasks. The friars balance their contemplative practices with efforts to help the community, embodying their deep devotion to their faith and spiritual discipline.

Transcript

Brother Matthew: Hello, I'm brother Matthew, I'm a Carmelite friar here in the UK, and that means I live in a community with other friars. So a friar is a man who is drawn to serve God and to live according to a certain set of rules in the Roman Catholic Church. A priory is just a word we use to describe the place where friars live. So the word friar comes from the Latin word frater, which means brother. And I think overall that describes perfectly how we relate to one another in the community. Monks and friars are quite different. Monks live in monasteries and generally you'll find monasteries out in the countryside a long way away from towns and cities, whereas friars, you'll find our prior is in the middle of towns, in the middle of cities. And for us that's really important, not only because we rely on the generosity of others, but because of our ministry we really see ourselves as ministering in the midst of the people, sharing our experiences of God, but also being there so people can share their experiences with us.

So different priors do have different timetables, but here in Aylesford I get up at 6:30 usually. So normally when I wake up I just go and have a shower straightaway, and once I'm dressed, I'll go down to our community kitchen and make a cup of tea. I'll usually then come back up to my room with my cup of tea and do my first prayers of the day, which we call the Office of Readings. And really, we can do it at any time. But I like to do it first thing because it really sets me up for the day.

As a Carmelite, we wear this habit and it helps us to be identified as Carmelite. So the Carmelite habit is made up of a brown tunic, a brown scapular which is like the apron at the front and the back, the hood, which we call the capuche. And then it's tied together at the waist with a leather belt. On special occasions or big events, will also wear a white cloak over the top. And here in the UK, the Carmelites have also got another name which is the White Friars, and that comes from that white cloak. I think for me, as I put the habit on, it reminds me that I am doing something different and that I am called to do something different. On those occasions where I do walk down the street to get some funny looks, but then you realise sometimes you forget why, and then you look down and realise that you're not wearing the latest trend. So we wouldn't wear our habit all the time, but we would usually wear it when we are together and praying. So morning prayer, evening prayer, mass. And I think it's one of those great symbols of something that unites us as brothers together, but also in our ministry and serving in the church together. Morning prayer here at Aylesford is at at 8 a.m., and it's the first opportunity we have together as a community to gather in the chapel and the chapel is just another word, another place of worship. Is it usually a little bit smaller than the church. And morning prayer here at Aylesford is open to everybody, not just the friars.

Friars: Oh God come to our aid. Oh Lord make haste to help us.

Brother Matthew: And it consists of a hymn, some psalms, a short reading from Scripture, and then some intercessions, some prayers. Now, as brothers, we all have different ministries, and some are called to serve as priests, and some are called to serve in different ways. But really what's most important for us is that we are brothers. We are all that family together. So all friars are men and we live in communities of men. That integral part of being a friar. I suppose the female equivalent of a friar is a sister or a nun.

Brother Matthew: And the Carmelite Order takes its name from Mount Carmel in the northwest of the Holy Land. It's a mountain and around the 13th century. So in the 1200s, a group of men, we think maybe pilgrims or crusaders returning home, settled on Mount Carmel to live a life of prayer. And they settled near a place called the Well of Elijah. And they really took the spirit of Elijah as their role model. So Elijah was a prophet in the Old Testament, and he spent a lot of time in silence alone with God, discovering that relationship with God, but also going out and ministering and being a prophet to the people as well, taking what he learned from that silence to the people.

So morning prayer is usually half an hour. So around 8:30 we'll leave the chapel and go to our ministries, go to our work. It could be meeting those that have come to visit us, celebrating mass, giving retreats or just meeting people. But overall, they're just ways in which we serve the community and we serve the church and we serve God. I'm studying at the moment, so my work would generally be reading for essays, writing essays, or I might have a class that day.

All friars take vows, and vows are promises that we make to God. I haven't made the vow of silence, but as a Carmelite friar, I've made a vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The vow of poverty means that I don't own anything. Before I joined, I had a car. I had a job. I was earning money. I had a laptop and things. When I joined and made my vow of poverty, I gave up those things. It doesn't mean I threw them away. It just means that what I now have, I share with my brothers. Overall, I think it's just been really conscious of not using the word mine. I've made the vow of chastity, which means I will always be single. I'll never have a partner. I'll never get married. Now, the vow of chastity doesn't mean that I can't love. But it means that I'm called to love everybody equally. The vow of obedience is a promise to do as I'm told to do as I'm asked by the brother who's been chosen in my community to be in charge, obedient to the brother who is in charge of all the friars in the country, and obedient to the friar, the brother who has been chosen to represent us in the world. I also vow to be obedient to the church and most importantly, to be obedient to the will of God. It's living a life that allows me to be really fulfilled, trusting that those who have responsibility over me have my best interests at heart. The vows don't just come from anywhere. We find them in the Bible, and we find them specifically in the life of Jesus. And so we try to imitate that life in really concrete ways.

So at midday, we gather together for mass, and mass is a celebration of who we are as Catholics, gathering together to celebrate this great gift that we have, where God becomes present to us in the bread and wine. Jesus says in the Bible, this is my body, this is my blood. And the mass we really celebrate those words as God becomes truly present to us. Another word for Mass is Eucharist, and Eucharist is a word that just means thanksgiving. And it's a time for us to give thanks to God in the way that Jesus showed us during his life. And here at Aylesford, when we have school groups or visitors, mass is open to everybody. Everybody is welcome to that community to remember that God is at the centre. And after mass is always a great opportunity then to chat to those people that have joined us as we go back out into our world.

At 1:00, we join together in our big dining room and we have a meal together. We have lunch together. Most of our meals are quite simple. That vow of poverty again, of not having always what we want, but just what we need. Living by our means. Living simply. After lunch we go into midday prayer. But it's not really a midday it's at 2:00 after midday prayers, which are about 15 minutes. We would return to our work and our ministries, so around 2:30 there's usually one brother on duty, so they would hear confessions of people visiting or give tours around the grounds of groups, give talks, reflections.

The process to become a friar is a long one. It takes around 5 to 7 years and we call that period initial formation. There are set stages of formation, but overall it's a constant process of speaking to others, listening to others, praying and trying to work out what God is asking of us and we call this discernment. It begins with what we would call a pre-novitiate. So that someone who is going to be a novice and it's a time of openness, discernment, where someone will come and live alongside the community and live in the style of a friar. After that period of time, they may ask to become a novice, to move into what we call the novitiate. And it's not just that person asking the community, but also the community deciding amongst themselves is this person a good fit? The novitiate then is a really intense year of prayer, where we live the life of a Carmelite friar, learning more about the tradition and the history, but also our role within the church and building that relationship with God. At the end of the novitiate, the year of being a novice. And if you still feel called to live this way of life, you would ask the community if you could take these vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. We call this Simple Profession, and that's the stage of formation that I'm in right now. Most friars like myself will go through a course of philosophy and theology, and it's so we're really equipped to answer those questions that people will ask us. At 6:30, the community will gather again for evening prayer.

Evening prayer will be around 15 minutes, but we go up to 7:00 and spend an extra 15 minutes in silence together. It's not the same as sitting in silence on your own. There's something really different about sitting in silence with other people. We work together. We laugh together. We talk together. But also we listen together and we pray together. After that silent time, we go up to the community kitchen and we will have supper together. Some will make sandwiches or eat the leftovers from lunch. After that, we're sort of free. Then we might watch TV in the TV room or sometimes we'll just sit around the kitchen table and chat. Living in a religious community is just like living in a family. You have those moments together, but moments on your own. But you know that in whatever you're doing, you are supported. It's not always easy, though, and they say that you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family. And sometimes community life is a bit like that. I think it's the way of life that allows me to be exactly who I am. This is a way of life that isn't very fast, and it doesn't ask us to go after the next big thing, but it's just been able to stop and think just one thing. Yes, this is good and I'm happy. I wonder how many people can say that about their lives and about their work, but also it's just the freedom to be completely comfortable with who I am.

A Day in the Life of a Carmelite Friar

Video length - 12.06

Grmalem, a 25-year-old from Eritrea, recounts his harrowing journey of escape from compulsory military service and economic hardship. Leaving his homeland at 14, he embarked on a perilous five-month odyssey through Ethiopia, Sudan, Libya, Italy, France, and finally to the UK. Facing inhumane conditions from smugglers in the Sahara to a treacherous sea voyage, Grmalem eventually found refuge in the UK, where he lived in foster care, discovering his passion for art and education. Despite ongoing challenges and discrimination, Grmalem dedicates himself to supporting others and raising awareness about the refugee experience, hoping for a future where empathy and humanity prevail.

Transcript

Refugee Stories: Grmalem

Grmalem: My name is Grmalem. I'm 25. I'm from Eritrea. The reason I had to leave Eritrea is mainly politically economic and education. I was turning about 14, and I knew I'm gonna have to face this same story as my uncles, my dad and my sisters and all the village who has to join the military army. My dad did not have any income or salary from the government, and his whole life was serving the government. And that was not something I was planning to do for my future. And the only thing was like to run and escape the country. So this many reasons is that I have to live and change my family's future and change my future. One day I just said I'm leaving. I don't told anybody I can't because it's risky. I had to leave at night with one friend and we don't even know where we go. We don't have any torch. We don't have any lights, you know. I wasn't scared, I wasn't I wasn't scared. I was like, no, let's do it, let's, let's. It's because it's more scared. What I left is, uh. I prefer to die. My story. My journey takes five months. Stepping in my journey from Eritrea to Ethiopia, from Ethiopia to Sudan, from Sudan to Libya, from Libya to Italy, from Italy to France, from France to here. Every step I take was really, really hard and difficult. In the Sahara Desert, there were smugglers. They were kept us like really unhuman, holding guns like they ready for a war, feeding us as an animal as well. So all our life was theirs. We only give them the breath and they, they, they control the body.

I don't know how many days and nights were spent on the sea, but we spent more than a week. And the sea doesn't motivate you to survive. The sea never ever motivated. Really hard memories I have is people shouting from underground of the boat, vomiting as well, like people. So much vomiting. And just because so many, all the dead seaweed and fish and everything is so disgusting. I saw people come in to us in very small boat. They moved us to a bigger ship. Very, very, very, very, very big. It's like towns. It's bigger than any town I ever seen. Now. In Calais. There was a camp and people were there like for two and a half years and three years trying to go to England. We tried days and nights. I tried in every way of the lorry. I tried in everywhere of the car and we get fined every time we get tried everywhere. We fined by police. Police dog, uh, by scanned and oh, in Calais, the worst thing was the spray they spray in your eyes. And it was more than a gun surely. It was really hurt. This is where the point, I said. You call me illegal? I am legal because there is no legal rights. So I have to figure out my own legal because there were no other options, that is. But a day came. The minute came. The hours came. My I was scared. A lorry was stopped next to where I was lying in the grass. I was like, okay, let's try in this place again.

So I have to climb to the top of the lorry. I climbed there and tied myself really tiny and get to the UK. Junction 11, Folkestone to Ashford. He parked there. That 14 years I've been living not existed. Sorry. My best days start counting from the day of landing in the UK. I feel safe. I said. This is it. And later on. The police find me. I don't know where. And they took me to the police station and they took me to there. I think now it's called a transfer scheme. They took me to put me in the system like a refugee system. I lived in foster care for seven years with my foster carer. My super, super, super hero. And they foster in me how to be human. And they taught me that everything. What is I have now and who I am going to be. My foster carer, we couldn't communicate it. She came really wisely, said, can you please start telling me story how you came. And she gave me a pencil and a paper. And then I start drawing. Instead of writing. My first drawing was the boat, our boat and the small boat. They came in to risk us. It was that and she was like, wow, I saw that in the TV. She was saying, he came this way. And that's our first conversation with my foster mum. And since then she started buying me a canvas. Precious. All these stores, all the stores fill up. And I say to myself, I'm. I'm gonna be sure I make her proud to finish university and get graduated in art. And which is, I'm in my third year to graduate this year. So I love them and I see the love they gave me. And they are my parents and I call them mum and dad. The word refugee mean to me. It feels like illegal. It feels like. Not human.

It feels like separation. I do feel discrimination when people call me illegal refugee, come illegal asylum. I mean, when people called. You here and we can't find council house and they thinking we are taking their houses. That is when I feel really discrimination and it just doesn't make sense. It doesn't make me anything but me. Trying to help, trying to work, trying to do my best I can with supporting my family, with supporting others next to me. I wish and hope I can help people. I've been doing two years supplying teacher, helping the next generations to support in school, and I'm also working as a youth ambassador at KRAN. I joined KRAN to help young people, which I love to help people. When I am around people and we raise awareness of the young people, we go to school, talk about us, our journey, talk about our experience and expectation. I'm not leaving people who stop leaving their countries. Or maybe a war is going to stop forever, so people will live and I will support. And that is my hope. That's my wish to support, to be a human, to have empathy, to work hard until the day I die.

Refugee Stories: Grmalem

Video length - 09.52

21-year old Obaida recounts his journey from war-torn Syria to finding safety and a new life in the UK. Forced to flee at a young age, he navigates the challenges of being a refugee in Jordan before finally resettling in the UK.There, he discovers a peaceful and welcoming society. Now a youth ambassador, Obaida advocates for fellow refugees, challenging stereotypes. and fostering hope.This film captures the resilience of the human spirit and the power of compassion.

This film was produced with the help of Kent Refugee Action Network (KRAN).

Transcript

Refugee Stories: Obaida

Obaida Hi.

Shazia Hi. Are you okay?

Obaida Yeah.

Shazia How are you feeling about this interview?

Obaida Um. Confident.

Obaida My name is Obaida. I'm 21 years old. I'm originally from Syria.

KRAN And we ask questions. Have you. Do you know a friend as a refugee? Have you met a refugee? Most of them. They haven't. No.

Obaida I think the media has a huge impact on the people here in the UK. It doesn't actually show. Like, why are these people leaving their country in the first place? Why they are risking their life, like on the boat and like crossing the Sahara desert, like, you know, the Mediterranean Sea. Why? Like they're doing this at the first place. All they show like this many of refugees have arrived. I now work with KRAM as a youth ambassador to raise young people's voice, especially young refugees and asylum seekers. When I arrived in the UK, I was 15 years old. I had like two different childhoods, one in Syria and one in the country I fled to, which is Jordan. I was six and a half, seven years old when the war started in Syria. I saw, like, you know, my neighbor holding a gun and start shooting, and people. First I thought like, that was just like a joke because I had a gun before, but it was like a plastic toy. So I thought that was like a similar thing. I remember like, I was upstairs with my brother and my brother is quite tall, so he was standing in front of the wall looking outside and like, no, there was a bullet. Like it was that that near piercing his head. It was just above his head. And I was like really shocked. And he was really shocked, but he didn't want to show it to me. And after that, and we never went off like on the roof again. My parents didn't allow us to go near the windows as well. Just like to stay safe. And yeah, that that's the most horrific thing I would say happened. My family is Muslim and we lived in a neighborhood where most of them are atheist. They were against us. My dad, he lived in the neighborhood for 20 years.

He knew everyone of them like they were friends. But once the war started, they just, like now changed completely. And they said like, no, because we know you for like 20 years. We give you a chance to leave first thing in the morning. My dad said we need to leave. So we called the bus. A small van. Yeah, we just left everything behind and moved on. And we went straight to Jordan. And we started our life from zero again. In many countries, Syrians boys like no one girls do work. And at early ages, when I was in Jordan, I used to work when I was 12, 13 years old to support my family. Studying it was pointless for me because I knew there was no future for me. And in Jordan, I used to work in a supermarket where I just tidied up things and like, you know, sell goods and things. And the funny part was, whenever someone like police comes looking for Syrians, I'll just like, pretend I'm a customer or take something and buy it and go out. It was fun lifestyle, but dangerous because anytime I was age of getting arrested and like, you know, I have to pay a bill, I'm pretty sure my family couldn't have afford that. I stayed in Jordan for seven years. My family were registered in the UNHCR. They called us, said like your family name is on the settlement scheme. Would you like to go to America? And we were thinking, yes, of course, like any place where we have a future at least. After one year, Donald Trump happened, he said like, no, no more refugees anymore in America. So we had to cancel that, not us. Like the UNHCR. We didn't have emails, nor letters and letters would take lots of time. So we were just always looking at our one phone. Probably seven months. They called us again and they said, there's a resettlement scheme happening right now. We put your family name on it. So we chose the UK. My parents weren't happy because of the culture difference. They were thinking about UK is like, you know, it's completely different to Jordan and Syria. Even though like, you know that life is expensive and difficult here, but they still have the culture, the like, you know, the religion. But they understood for us, the children like this is our future. When I was in Jordan, I used to watch hours of movies and especially Harry Potter. And so when I, when I heard the UK and England, I was like thinking, oh like, you know, flying brooms and like, you know, magic wands and that's, that's different life like, you know, there and I'll be a part of it. Uh, but unfortunately, when I arrived to the UK, um, none of that was true.

My first impression is like how peaceful the country is. And everyone here is equal. How everyone has here, here has an opportunity to continue the future, to have a better life, a decent life, I would say. That's what every refugee dream of. When. When I arrived, I was thinking probably because my race, my color, which is like completely different to white people, I would find it difficult. If I remember correctly, my first day was going to KRAN, where I studied some English there and elderly man stopped us and said like, where are you from? We were like, we are from Syria. I was really thinking like, you know, something bad will happen. But he said, oh, welcome, and you are here now. You are safe. And I really felt welcomed that day. How can I support this country? Support. Like, you know, the people living in this country. When I was in Jordan, all I thought about is like, you know, having a decent life and never thought of having a luxurious life, having, like, you know, a phone all I wanted, just like, you know, wake up in the morning, have a normal, like, breakfast, go to school, study something I like. When I arrived in the UK, I found all of that when I was in Jordan, I didn't plan anything for my future. But until I arrived to the UK, where I was secured and safe, I start thinking about my future, which is it took me a while to understand how important it is and carrying on with my life. For me, the word refugee means a lot. When I was in Jordan, I was called a refugee. It really annoys me. It's the conception of people have made about refugees. Like refugees are bad. Refugees are like, no, they are taking your job. You know you're the country. But Refugees are just like normal people are looking for shelter for like decent life who couldn't live in their country and they just moved away. And I think this has been in all human nature, like people are just moving around like, you know, for better, better life. If you see someone from a refugee background or if you notice he's he's struggling or she is struggling, just go give him this small motivation like, you know, this small push from you because you don't know what they've been through. But that small smile from your mind, like know, made their day. Who knows? Probably you are the reason. Like they achieve their full potential. So yeah, it's been it's been like in, in the past for me. The UK is my home country now. And to be honest, the home for me is like family and people around me. I would hope when they see things are better in Syria. But now, yeah, I would never go back because I know it will never be the same as before. And here I have found my life and have found my future.

Refugee Stories: Obaida

Video length - 08.50

Randy, a 19-year-old from Managua, Nicaragua, escapes political unrest and finds himself alone and uncertain in the UK. Forced to leave his family, he navigates the complexities of seeking asylum, experiencing fear and hope along the way. Amidst the challenges, Randy discovers a supportive community and a newfound sense of safety. As he adapts to life in Guildford, his dreams of studying physiotherapy in Liverpool take shape, symbolizing his resilience and determination to build a new life far from home.

This film was produced with the help of Big Leaf Foundation.

Transcript

Refugee Stories: Randy

Randy: My name is Randy I'm 19 years old and I'm from Nicaragua. I'm from Managua which is the capital of Nicaragua. I lived in a neighborhood with my family, which are my parents and my sister. One of my favorite memories is playing in my hometown with my friends, playing football in the streets, playing hide and seek. Yeah. My childhood was really nice. So when I was 13, I realized that there was a bigger issue in the political side of my country. Basically, I didn't realize that we had a dictatorship in 2006 and I was just living a normal life. But from 2018 and onwards, I just knew how bad the country situation was in terms of political government. It all started with the pension scheme change for the elderly, and then it started with the way that the government was managing the situation with the people protesting. These protests started being done by the university students and they were amazing. I attended many of them. Everything started to change when we realized that the government was putting people in jail, or even murdering people just because of the political situation. Unluckily, me and my family were living in a neighborhood which is mostly associated with this party. There are many people that work in the government and for the government, and that makes us in danger most of the time. I was 17 years old when I left Nicaragua.

This decision was made mainly by my parents, and I wasn't happy with the decision, but I knew that it was a thing that I had to do to be safe. I traveled by plane alone from Nicaragua to my next destination. I felt really scared and sad when I left by my own, because I didn't know what to expect of the new place that I was going to live in without my family. I lived in America for around two months with my cousins. We were undocumented. And at that moment my parents were going through a difficult economical situation, so they couldn't afford supporting me in the country. That was the reason why my cousins wanted me to work illegally. Which makes me feel less safe and made my parents should take the decision to send me to the UK. I took a plane from Miami to London, and throughout the journey I felt scared because I was going to claim asylum at the airport, and that made me feel frightened of what was going to happen. I was thinking that I could get rejected, that I could get deported back to Nicaragua or something like that. At the airport. The first thing I said to the officer was that I wanted to claim asylum in the UK. They put me into a room with more people trying to claim asylum. When I was in the room, I was looking at the window and I saw these people just coming into the UK or returning to the UK, feeling happy about it.

When I was feeling so scared of what was going to happen to me, and I had the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen. So it was a mix of emotions at that moment. When I arrived to the UK, I was 17 so I was still a child and child services had to take care of me. When a child service officer was driving me to my new location, I felt really relieved because I was more focused on getting to know the place, emersing in a new culture, and realizing the fact that I was in a completely different continent. I was just surprised about the fact that the UK drives in the other side of the road. Also the way that the houses are built with these orange walls and everything. So I really like that. When I was told that I was going to move to Guildford, I didn't know that it was a place. But then when I got there, I like the place because it was a small town, which meant I could walk anywhere. In Guildford I live in a supported accommodation with other young people. I felt comfortable because most of the people were asylum seekers as well, so we were in the same situation and these people were my age or younger or a little older than me, so I was comfortable with them. So after claiming asylum, I had to wait for around nine months and throughout these nine months I only was allowed to study, not to work. Then after nine months, I have my first substantive interview, which is the main interview. When they decide if you reject it or you're accepted in your asylum application. Unfortunately, I was rejected. And that made me feel that everything ended. Fortunately, with the support of a lot of people, I was able to go through the appeal phase, which took around 6 to 7 months for the hearing.

In November of 2023, I was granted refugee status by the Home Office, and that made me feel so happy and so relieved about my future. I was lucky because I had access to everything now. I could live like a normal UK resident, I could work, I could have access to student finance because my dream is to go to university here. So I could do that now. Hopefully in September 2024 I will be starting the physiotherapy course at University of Liverpool. I've always wanted to become a physiotherapist, but in Nicaragua I don't think that I would have done it. I don't think that it was going to be the pathway that I was going to choose, mainly because of the lack of opportunities to be a physio in Nicaragua. So if I would have stayed in Nicaragua, it was going to be the dream that I wasn't going to achieve. I miss my country, I miss Nicaragua, I miss my culture, my food, my family, my friends is just what you grew up with. And it's something that stays with you your whole life. My relationship with Big Leaf started one day after I moved to Guilford. I was just walking around Guilford, and then I received a text message from a number. Basically was just saying if I wanted to go to some music lessons and I didn't know how they got my number. But then I realised that my social worker gave them my number. I decided to go to the lessons, and I really liked the lessons, and I really like the way that they were treating me. I volunteer with Big Leaf in the Big Leaf Refugee Week, mainly in the organization of the event. After that, I've been doing some volunteering with them sometimes and some paid work sometimes. All of these experiences that I have with Big Leaf made me feel very proud of myself.

All of the achievement that I've done, being a young leader, being a volunteer now, being paid for my work and my contribution to the community, something that makes me feel very proud. I realized that I've been able to achieve things that I didn't know that I was able to. And yet, that just makes me feel happy. Being a refuge to me means being different, having to work hard every day. Giving yourself the permission to feel and knowing that you have the same opportunities as everyone. And you're equal to everyone, regardless of the ethnicity or your nationality. Now I have less worries compared to when I was living in Nicaragua or when I was living in America, because I feel more safe. I feel that my future is going how I want it to be, that I'm in the correct pathway to achieve my dreams. And I feel happy now.

Refugee Stories: Randy

Video length - 09.04

Rishan, a 26-year-old from Eritrea, fled her homeland to Sudan at the tender age of three with her family to escape the oppressive regime that denied them basic human rights and forced young people into the military. Life in Sudan was tough, Rishan and her family lived under the shadow of fear due to the lack of official documents and she had no access to education. At 16, driven by the need for a better future, she embarked on a perilous journey across the Sahara Desert and Mediterranean Sea, leaving behind everything familiar without even a goodbye to her mother. This courageous leap into the unknown was fuelled by sheer determination and the hope for a life of freedom and opportunities.

This film was produced with the help of Kent Refugee Action Network (KRAN).

Transcript

Refugee Stories: Rishan

Rishan: Hi, my name is Rishan. I'm 26 years old and I'm from Eritrea. My family fled Eritrea when I was three years old because it's owned by dictatorship president. You don't get the chance to your human basic rights. Everything is just restricted. Everything you have to go with by the government. You get to a certain point that you have to obviously cut off your education because you're going to be sent to military. Some families, mums, they don't know what their children happened to them, whether they died, whether they're still here, or whether even exists. My mum decided she doesn't want that to happen for me or my other siblings so she fled to Eritrea. I spent my life in Sudan 13 years. I've never been to school. I have my neighbour who is a teacher, who is the one teaching me how to read English and the mass and all of these things. We only had just one room. So that would be with me, with my mum and my siblings together. And it's a small thing, but it's kind of brings lots of memories, beautiful memories. My family didn't had any documentations. My mum always say to me, oh don't go out so much. If you don't have ID, you would be taken by the police force and then you can be sent back to your country. That's what happened to my dad. I never get to know where is he now.

I left Sudan when I was 16 years old, and that was the end of 2014. It was just a need for me to leave. There was no option for me to stay in Sudan. So therefore I have to just leave without telling my family or telling my my mum because otherwise she will stop me. It was just all of a sudden happen. And I was the oldest of my siblings. I felt the need for me that to to just move from Sudan. I left with my friends, three of us. It was a small car crossing the Sahara. The adrenaline of like continuously that I have to just keep going, keep going. And I couldn't look back and just decide that I. Oh, I'm not I can't do it. So let's let's go back to Sudan. So it was just, um, it's just there was a moment of continue moving from place to place and thus, um, started from Sudan and I went to Libya and then from Libya to crossing the Mediterranean Sea to Italy, and then from Italy to France, and then from France to Calais, from Calais to the UK. We always like in fear that we have to be like hidden. We have to be covered. They should, if they see a car that come in like crossing the border. So you have to be like always. The like, mind your head. Nothing is gonna gonna happen to you. We been placed in the house that there was no, like, any food or any water. And you don't get to see the sun. You just have to be kept inside with full of so many people there in one room. And you will hear the shooting, because there was always shooting guns there. And you just have to pray that this bullet doesn't come to your head. So many females being raped or being abused by males happening there. I think I was just lucky because I speak the language, so I understand what they saying. I would move from the place if something came across to me. Could be any like dangerous physically. To cross the Mediterranean Sea was in the small boats. Halfway to get to Italy. The boat starts sinking. I remember there's water and everyone trying to get this water outside. I start praying that, um, that something is gonna happen. Like, something is gonna be gonna come and just save us. Luckily, the Italian border came and then they just took us in the big ship. In Calais. I saw people like jumping at the back of the lorry and I tried couple time and I guess because of my size was small it was easy for me to enter inside and from there the lorry goes to the train and then the train obviously arrived to the UK and um, it was a, it was a daytime that when I came to here when the UK police found me. When I arrived here, I was 17 years old, so they decided to put me with a foster family. I was so exhausted. And I just want to, just to sleep. My fosters start to teach me, what's the pound what's the royal family, and all of these things started to know about the country. But it's more like in the back of my head, am I safe, is this really. I can trust those people, even though their approach is welcoming and supporting. Everything is just back. Came back from the beginning.

That's the reason I used to stay in my room. Just to kind of get this thing away from my head, but it was never did. So when I left was with other two friends. By the time I crossed the Mediterranean Sea to Italy. I asked about my friend, one of them. He didn't make it because their boat is just sunk in the sea. I felt like, why me and why him? And that's the the, the moment of like reflecting back about the journey. Like why did we already left from the very beginning and why I was lucky to be here and why this is happening to him. The journey was full of danger, full of terrifying moment. The thing that keeps me alive would be like my hope that God is going to be with me. I always say that from Sudan to the UK it was one journey. But living in the UK is my second journey. When I came here, the most shocking things that I felt like really sad and upset to the point that I was just, um, I said, why, why, why is that? All things that I've done it and nothing is going to be sorted out. And I guess not being with my family, it took me more like it kind of shocked me more when I came here. You cannot bring your family. You can't bring your siblings. I spent the time, a long time in my room because like I asked him, why did I left? And nothing is going to be happen with it. But my foster care took me on a positive journey. I would say to think about no Rishan. You can now think about what things you wanted to do in terms of education. How are you going to be supporting them by first supporting yourself? And I always say, I want to go to university. I want to do nursing, which is now what I'm doing. I'm in my final year of nursing. I definitely want to be a nurse to work in the NHS. I would say I like the word refugee. I like people to refer me as refugee. Anyone in their life. We seek refuge in something. Being a refugee and being always heard the word illegal, Illegal. I'm always looked up on a way of on a negative perspective. I'm here to seek safety. Nobody would like to die in a journey. Nobody would like to be separated from their family. The point that is just you don't have an option for plan A or B, you just have to leave. I know KRAN since I came here, I was a service user. Like I was just young person attending classes. There was a role of youth ambassador and that's where I apply for it. I feel like there's a platform for me in KRAN to advocate about this situation. I want to reach more people to talk about our story. This is my situation. This is my story. I'm proud to be like refugee because it's nothing wrong with being a refugee.

Refugee Stories: Rishan

Video length - 6.36

Published date - May 2023

The arti ceremony is a form of worship that happens in Hindu temples every day – also known as “an offering of light”. A young Hindu called Pranathi explains it all.

Curriculum Mapping

Component 1: The study of religions: beliefs, teaching and practices: Hinduism - Different forms of worship: puja and arati - The rituals of puja and arati and their significance for Hindus.

Area of Study 2 – Hinduism - Section 3: Living the Hindu Life - The nature and purpose of prayer in the temple and the home: the nature, features of use and purpose of the different forms of worship, including meditation, puja, havan, darshan, arti, bhajan, kirtan and japa, with reference to interpretations of Bhagavad Gita 6.44–47; divergent understandings of the benefits for Hindus of having different forms of worship.

Component Group 1 - Beliefs and teachings & Practices - Hinduism - Approaching deity •Different Hindu understandings of the role,forms and importance of the following types of worship: •• Havan or homa •• Puja •• Meditation •• Japa •• Bhajan or kirtan •• Darshan • The nature and importance of sacred places and spaces for Hindu worship: •• Temples •• Shrines •• Sites of pilgrimage •• Outdoors •• Hills and rivers

2.1 Unit 1 PART A - Hinduism - Core beliefs, teachings and practices - Practices Worship  Features and importance of daily puja in the home: (Bhagavad Gita 3:19, 4:38)  Features and importance of congregational puja in the mandir (including devotions to the murti, arti and havan)  Diversity in Vaishnavite and Shaivite worship  Significance of bhakti  Role, importance and features of pilgrimage to Varanasi

2.3 Component 3 (Route A) - Option 2: Hinduism - Places of worship in Britain and elsewhere ➢ Features and importance of daily puja in the home ➢ Features and importance of congregational puja in the mandir ➢ Diversity of views and practices: Vaishnava and Shaiva bhakti ➢ Hindu mandirs in Britain compared to those in India ➢ Features and importance of worship at outdoor shrines Worship/meditation ➢ The significance of different forms of worship/meditation; havan, puja, arati, darshan Bhagavad Gita 9.26, bhajan/kirtan, japa: Bhagavad Gita 3.19, 4.38, 6.11–12 ➢ The importance of focuses of worship and representations of the divine; one god, other deities, holy land, plants and animals: Bhagavad Gita 16.24 ➢ Honouring Gurus and elders

Transcript

Holy Cribs - Hinduism - The Arti Ceremony

Pranathi: Welcome to the Shree Ganapati Temple for the Aarti ceremony. This is a form of puja or worship that happens every day. It's sometimes called an offering of light because the pujari or priest uses a special lamp with five wicks to perform the ceremony. He lights the five flames, which symbolize the five traditional elements of Earth, air, fire, water and space. The Pujari waves the lamp in front of the deities while singing the Aarti prayer, and everyone joins in with the singing. And by ringing bells and blowing on a Shankar. A Shankar is a conch, a huge seashell. And if you blow into it the right way, it makes a sound like a trumpet. Mortis of the God Vishnu are often holding a conch shell, which symbolizes that God brings life out of the water. The lamb is taken to the main vimana or shrine first and waved in front of the deity. And in our mother, that is Ganesha, the God of wisdom. Then the lamp is taken around all the other deities too. We are showing our love for the deities. And in return we believe that their energy and love for us passes into the flames of the lamp. At the end of the ceremony, the Pujari takes the lamp around the people here so we can pass our hands over the flames to receive the blessing. .

Hinduism: The Arti Ceremony

Video length - 02.05

Published date - May 2023

A young Hindu called Pranathi explains how all the items on a puja tray are used during worship.

Curriculum Mapping

Component 1: The study of religions: beliefs, teaching and practices: Hinduism - Different forms of worship: puja and arati - The rituals of puja and arati and their significance for Hindus.

Transcript

Holy Cribs – The Vimana and Puja Tray

Pranathi: A murti is a statue of a deity, a god or goddess. And Hindus like me use these to help us worship. This is Ganesha, the elephant headed God of wisdom, and he has his own vimana or shrine, which is a small space dedicated to him containing all the things we use to worship him. The murti's are treated as honoured guests and they'll be washed, decorated and given offerings of food every day as signs of respect to the deities they symbolise. Each one of the deities represents one aspect of the personality of the one unseen spirit. Brahman Puja is the name we use for worship or prayer. We often use a tray to hold all things we use in puja. There might be fruit, rice, flowers. Water, a lamp, ash, Kumkum, powder, incense, a bell, all kinds of things to touch, taste, smell here and look at. All five senses are involved as a symbol that the whole person is devoted to the deity. We ring a bell to wake up the murti and to bring people to join in the puja. We have a lamp because light symbolizes enlightenment or understanding. We often use a lamp that burns ghee, which is clarified butter and it smells great. Incense smells great, too. And we burn it in the Mandir and in our homes to purify the air, hiding any nasty smells. It also creates the sort of atmosphere that I've grown up associating with worship. So it helps me get in the right frame of mind. The flowers also smell nice and bring color to the Vimana. A water pot called a kamandalu, and the spoon are used to wash the muthi. And a red powder called kumkum and sandalwood paste are used to anoint the muthi and to make the tilaka marks on our foreheads to show we have been blessed. Prasad is food like fruit nuts or sweets that are offered to the murthis and then shared out to the worshippers after puja. We believe that the deity blesses the food during the puja, so when we eat the Prasad, we receive the blessing.

Hinduism: The Puja Tray

Video length - 03.00

Published date - May 2023

Holy Cribs: The Mandir

Pranathi gives TrueTube a tour of The Shree Ghanapathy Mandir in South London, explaining its most important features and her beliefs as a Hindu.

Curriculum Mapping

Component 1: The study of religions: beliefs, teaching and practices: Hinduism - Different forms of worship: puja and arati - The rituals of puja and arati and their significance for Hindus.

Transcript

Holy Cribs: The Mandir

Pranathi: Welcome to the Shree Ghanapathy Temple. My name is Pranathi and I'm a Hindu. This is a temple or mandir and my dad is one of the priests here, so it's like a second home to me. We come here to worship Brahman, the one supreme spirit which we believe lives in all things. We worship many forms of Brahman, but this temple is especially dedicated to Lord Ganesha. Traditional mandirs usually have a gateway or a tower called a gopuram, which lets you know you're entering a special place. You may also find a statue of an animal or god outside. This is Ganesha, the elephant headed god of wisdom. This is the normal entrance for the mandir. The word mandir comes from the word 'house' in the ancient Indian language of Sanskrit. We think of the temple as a home for the deities, what we call the gods and goddesses that are inside. When we come into the temple, we respect it like you would when entering the home of a very important person. The entrance area of the mandir is called an ardhamandapa. It's where we take off our shoes and leave them in these racks. This is so we can keep the inside of the building as clean as possible, as another sign of respect. Also, some girls and women like to cover their heads when they come into the mandir. As people enter, they will often ring a bell to announce their arrival, just like you would ring on someone's doorbell.

On special occasions, we will open the main doors of the temple and you'll often see people bending down to touch the steps before they enter. In India, it's tradition that we touch the feet of those we respect, and the step represents the feet of the deities. By the door, this is Bhairavar. He is the protector or guardian of our temple. This is the mandapa, the main prayer hall of the mandir. All around the mandapa, there are deities. Each one has a shrine or vimana, which is a small area of worship. A statue of a deity is called a murti. We treat them as honoured guests, and so they are washed, decorated and given offerings of food every day, as signs of respect to the gods or goddesses they represent. I said outside that we worship one supreme spirit called Brahman who was a part of all things. So each one of the deities is Brahman in human or animal form. They show us many different ways to understand Brahman.

This mandir is dedicated to Ganesha, but most mandirs will have a murti of Ganesha near the door. He is a very popular deity because he removes obstacles or problems in people's lives. This is Shiva with his wife, Parvati. We also have murtis of Vishnu and we believe he has come to Earth in different forms. So here he is, as Krishna with Radha. And as Rama with Sita. Puja is the Hindu name for worship or prayer.

A tray is often laid out with various objects to help Hindus in their worship. Fruit, rice, flowers, water, a lamp, holy ash and kumkum powder, incense, a bell. There will be items to touch, taste, smell, hear and look at. All five senses are involved as a symbol that the whole person is devoted to the deity. Prasad is food like fruit, nuts or sweets that is offered to the murtis and then shared out after the puja. We believe that the deities bless the food during the puja. And so if we eat the prasad we will be blessed too. Take a sniff. Incense is burned in mandirs to purify the air, hiding any nasty smells. It also creates an atmosphere that always makes me think of puja. So it helps me to get in the right frame of mind to pray. The main shrine at the front of the mandapa is called a garbha griha, which means womb house. It symbolises the womb or heart of the body because we believe it gives life to the whole mandir. Inside the garbha griha will be a murti of the main deity that the mandir is dedicated to; the deity that most people come to this mandir to worship, which in our case is Ganesha. There is a space or corridor around the garbha griha called the pradakshina. This is so people can walk clockwise all around it. It shows that just like the shrine is at the centre of the circle I'm making as I walk around it, Ganesha is at the centre of my life. Directly above the garbha griha, some mandirs have a spire on the roof called a shikara, or they might even have several shikaras above all the different shrines. They symbolise the Himalayas, the mountains in India, where the deities were believed to live. In fact, shikara means 'mountain peak'. Some mandirs have flags, and the colour of the flags show which deity the mandir is dedicated to. So orange for Shiva and his family, which includes his son Ganesha; and red and white stripes for Swaminarayan.

Our priests traditionally come from the Brahmin varna, the top varna or caste in the Indian class system. He's called a pujari, someone who leads puja. This is the arti ceremony. The pujari uses a lamp with five wicks to symbolise the five traditional elements of earth, air, fire, water and space. He waves it in front of the murtis while chanting a prayer. And people ring bells and blow a shankha. A shankha or conch is a huge seashell. And if you blow into it properly, it makes... That sound. The lamp is blessed by the deities during the arti prayer, and then it's taken round the mandapa for us to pass our hands over the flames and then touch our heads to show that we are accepting the deity's blessing.

Mandirs are usually full of decorations and symbols. This one is called the Om, which represents Brahman, the one unseen spirit. The lotus flower grows out of a muddy riverbed to float on the surface, looking all beautiful. So it symbolises that we should try to be pure, even when the world around us is often polluted. And the swastika which represents the sun and God's blessings. Although this one is often misunderstood because it was used by the Nazis in the Second World War, it's a shame because the symbol of blessing was turned into a symbol of hate. But that's not what it means to me. Many mandirs have a hall or other rooms attached that can be used for meetings, education, festivals and lots of other events. And that's it. Thanks for coming to the Shree Ghanapathy Temple. Don't forget your shoes. Thanks for coming, guys. Bye.

Holy Cribs: The Mandir

Video length - 08.24