It was back to work with a vengeance – and it’s only now that I’ve had the time to relax, let my brain unwind and download all the information from this turbulent past week.

As a born optimist, I would add that there is a small upside to a non-stop week: it’s a great way to lose those holiday bulges! All the dresses that were embarrassingly too tight on holiday are zipping up with ease. “Half of you has gone!” said my husband last night as, exhausted, I finally stumbled into the kitchen in search of a glass of wine. Despite the fatigue, I told him it was the best thing I’d heard all week.

So where could half of me have gone? Let me think…

Much of this week was spent in London. Before leaving, I was thrilled to give a speech to the UK’s Chief Rabbi, Lord Sacks and his wife who had spent the weekend in my hometown of Leeds. We are a small Jewish community, making up only one per cent of the population of Leeds, but as a community we give a great deal back. In particular, we work hard in a city made up of many different communities, to have successful relationships with our non-Jewish neighbours.  The Chief (as he is known) and his wife worked non-stop, meeting as many people as possible in Leeds including the Lord Lieutenant of West Yorkshire and the vibrant Archbishop of York, and clearly exhausting themselves into the bargain. From Leeds they were travelling on to visit the even smaller Jewish community in Hull and then back to London for his keynote speech that same evening on faith and the law.

Faith isn’t a fashionable topic at the moment. If you have faith you are open to virulent attack, albeit the attack is likely to be verbal or in writing. Fair enough. As readers know, I fully support our democratic right to freedom of expression. We all have different views and we are all entitled to express them. That’s fine. Sixty million people, sixty million opinions.  However if part of your faith includes support for the State of Israel, you will encounter anti-semitism in all its guises and from all different people, some from those you expect, some worse still from those you don’t, who should know better.

If despite this, you are the much loved and admired head of a community of Jews, and you carry on regardless, in the full glare of the public eye irrespective of the threat to your safety, you are a very brave man indeed. What is not generally known about the Chief is that he is obliged to travel with not one, but several bodyguards. He cannot speak without the threat of serious attack in our country in what should be a bastion of democracy.

My admiration for the courage of the Chief Rabbi and his wife and the vital work they do for Jewish people in this country  knows no bounds and It was my great pleasure to be asked to thank them for their visit.

Then onto London. I was accompanied by barrister-turned-trainee solicitor Paul Read and Stowe Family Law’s chief executive, Andrew Williams, who had business of his own there. We did not travel lightly: all our bags of files were loaded into an executive van. We set off for what we thought would be a one-hour meeting, or two hours tops…

We returned three days later. Our work detained us.

So I was able to attend a dinner at the newly-reopened Savoy Hotel, that I hadn’t been sure I could make. The guest speaker was headlined as Benjamin Netanyahu, the Prime Minister of Israel who, unfortunately, was also having a stressful week. He cancelled, preferring to schedule a trip to Washington. His deputy, Dan Meridor, should have taken his place at the Savoy dinner. However in this country we still have something little known and most unpleasant, called the “universal jurisdiction principle”. Under threat of an arrest warrant being issued against him, by extremists determined to silence him, and which needs to be signed by only a low level magistrate, Mr Meridor, the Deputy Prime Minister of Israel, had no choice but to cancel and avoid an embarrassing diplomatic incident all round and of course the threat to him personally.

Compare and contrast with the warm reception  our Foreign Secretary, William Hague, had from Israel this week, with his visit hailed as a resounding success on both sides. However one Israeli diplomat did comment on how absurd it is that their delegation could face the risk of arrest in travelling to London and continuing the strategic dialogue.  Mr Hague has pledged to resolve the “unacceptable situation” with regard to universal jurisdiction, and legislative changes are expected to come into effect in 2011.

At the Savoy Michael Gove, the UK Education Secretary, gave a resounding speech in Mr Meridor’s place. He, too, called for the repeal of the UJ law. I hope the government will honour its word.

As I have written before, to my mind the truth of the Middle East conflict is made up in differing shades of grey. Travelling through the country as I did only a week ago, from the heights of its Lebanese border in the north, the heights of its Syrian borders to the northwest then through the heights of the Palestinian West Bank, courtesy of our informative Palestinian driver and with only the Mediterranean Sea and the potential rockets from Hamas-controlled Gaza to the east, I concluded that secure borders for Israel must be a prerequisite to any resolution of the conflict. But we never get to hear of this. Silencing those with legitimate and opposing points of view, and using our own law to do it, is simply wrong and is not the answer.

Recently an attack was made on my blog was for the second time, after I posted about a holiday to Jerusalem.  It is all very sad. I don’t expect all or indeed any of the readers of my blog, to agree with my views. Why should I? For example John Bolch of Family Lore has become a friend whom I admire, even though we disagree over the subject of faith. And why shouldn’t we disagree? We are a democracy in this country.

But if some people who bravely stand up and speak out about what they believe are targeted and threatened and attempts are made to intimidate them into silence, while those who disagree with them can speak out fearlessly and know no such bars, what is this country and above all our proudly fair and independent justice system coming to?

My trip to London involved a lot of hard work into the bargain. It would have been far easier and less controversial for me to post about the impact of established trusts in family law, the way to resolve a divorce conflict in such circumstances, and the case which occupied us for much of this week. But to me – and, I’m sure, right minded people everywhere – I wish to point out that our hard won, extremely precious right to freedom of speech is under attack in this country. I believe we should make every effort to stop it, whether we agree with what is being said or not.

There!  I’ve said my piece. Normal service will resume next week.

Do you ever wonder what it would be like to attend a wedding and not go through all that rigmarole, to just relax all the way through?  Especially during the best part: when you see the bride come down the aisle to be given away by her parents, about to start a new life with her partner.

This Monday I “attended” just such a beautiful wedding and, I think, in the best possible way! Let me explain…

It was 6 pm and the sun was setting behind the pale honey walls of the Old City of Jerusalem as Mount Scopus lay in the distance. I was standing high up on the balcony of our hotel watching a wedding scene taking place on the terrace below.  I could see the hustle and bustle of lorries and cars still thronging up the hill beyond as they entered the Old City through the Jaffa Gate. Alongside the gate stands King David Tower and there were still lots of tourists walking around the old Roman walls during this cooler part of the day.  I could see churches, synagogues and mosques spread across the city on rolling hills. Somewhere in the distance out of view is the Western Wall, all that remains of the Jewish Temple destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD and which stood on Temple Mount, the holiest place in Judaism. The wedding below me was taking place under a canopy facing towards the Western Wall.

This city of Jerusalem has seen its share of historical battles and invaders. With the Persians, Romans, Arabs, Crusaders and Turks all invading and laying claim to it at various times.  Sadly, as we know, conflict continues to this day and will do until all its peoples make peace. How wonderful would that be?

Archaeological digs keep revealing the fascinating history of the city. During the reign of King Herod a fortress was built alongside the Jewish temple on Temple Mount, which was itself built by King Solomon.

There is in fact a large-scale model of Jerusalem in Roman times, with the Temple still erect before its destruction, which stands in the grounds of the newly renovated Israel Museum. The museum is opposite the Israeli Parliament and the Supreme Court of Israel (below) and is where I had earlier spent most of the day. There is a beautiful Rose Garden separating the two.

The stunningly reconstructed buildings at the Museum are home to galleries full of European impressionist and modern art, including pieces by Renoir, Cezanne Pissarro, Gauguin, Modigliani, Chagall, Magritte and Dali. You could easily spend hours there taking them in, but there is much more to see.

There are 15th and 16th century paintings too and the collection includes two Rembrandts: one of St Peter in prison, the light framing his elderly face of resignation unaware that the prison shackles would soon fall away; the other of his wife Saskia. There is also a huge painting by Nicholas Poussin from 1625, presented to Cardinal Richelieu, which features the Roman destruction of the Temple. It is quite moving in that it magnificently depicts the battle and tragedy taking place.

There is also a large gallery of some of the first photographs ever taken and several galleries devoted to modern 21st Century Israeli art. Again you could spend hours here too.

But I suppose because I am Jewish, and a family lawyer, I was particularly taken by the collection called Rites of Passage, which included the clothing and religious artefacts of Jewish families from across the world and down the centuries. No matter how far apart and no matter how long ago, I could see how similar they all were.

The theme Rites of Passage centred on birth, marriage and death. Marriage within this context isn’t portrayed as the “gold standard” as opposed to cohabitation; rather, it is depicted as a deep-seated, spiritual and religious part of the circle of life for all those Jewish communities featured. Whether the bejewelled Yemeni bride, or the brides and grooms of Afghanistan, China, India and other remote regions on earth, all had similar Jewish marriage ceremonies, similar rituals at birth and on death and their communities managed to survive, somehow and in some form.

I then visited a building called the Shrine of the Book. This is a fabulous building, which stands in the grounds of the Israel Museum and houses the Dead Sea Scrolls. You don’t have to be religious to appreciate the Dead Sea Scrolls’ historical significance. Discovered in 1947 and preserved in jars in caves by the Dead Sea, they are now housed in this building. The white roof mimics the top of a jar; the bottom lies underground and is only accessible down some steps. Here you can view the entire scroll of Isaiah, which has been saved intact in a real jar.  You can also walk around and see other fragments of the bible, with all the documents found scientifically dated from 150BC to 70AD.

In the same building you can also see the Aleppo Codex, which is a bible written in Jerusalem in the 10th century and saved from destruction by the Crusaders. It was smuggled to Syria and then to Egypt, before being returned to Jerusalem in the 20th Century.

I was knocked out by the fight that Jewish people have had through the centuries: scattered throughout the world by the Roman destruction of Jerusalem – and yet, still managing to survive.

The central roles played by birth, marriage and death, and the power of the Rites of Passage to preserve a people and its beliefs stayed strong in my mind after I left the museum.

I returned to my hotel feeling dazed. There was so much to see, assimilate and think about. Things you take for granted in a material world.  On reflection I don’t think it matters what religion you may be, or even whether you are an atheist, an agnostic or nothing at all. Every one of us can always appreciate the beautiful things that life has to offer. Some lives have been filled with tragedy that at the time seemed to be meaningless sacrifice but, years later in retrospect, have played their part in the journey for survival.

But other lives are filled with joy and achievement too, whether it is spiritual, artistic or architectural and they survive the generations. The Rites of Passage all play their own part. The common feature of everything I saw was the desire, will and passion to survive and, above all, to preserve and hand down for future generations all the traditions, customs, art, music and spiritual values. Some of these are still being passed on 2,000 years later, while the 500-year-old artwork is relatively young!

I was standing on my balcony trying to take it all in, looking out over this fascinating city, the ancient and the modern, and drinking a quiet toast to the spirit of survival with a huge glass of chilled white wine when, unexpectedly, the music of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah began.

The melody was the same, but the words were different. It was the well-known Israeli singer Ohad Moskowitz singing Boi Kala, which translated means come my bride, come my beloved – and then I was really overcome after such a wondrous day.

And so I watched the bride walk with her father under the canopy. The Rites of Passage were continuing and so were my hopes for eternal peace in Jerusalem, the Eternal City.

PS. Congratulations to Judy, David and their families on their marriage at the David Citadel Hotel in Jerusalem on 23 August, 2010. I wish them every happiness in their life together.

Image credits: emileaguso, www.goisrael.com, emileguso.

Last week I had finished writing my post about John Ruskin, had exercised flat out on my Wattbike and was looking forward to a calorie-filled Sunday lunch with my sister Suzy and our husbands. We were going to try out a restaurant in Harrogate and then do some Xmas shopping.

Then the telephone rang – and everything changed.

My sister was crying on the phone. Our mum had fallen and was in hospital. Dad had called Suzy in a dreadful state and asked her for help. My parents rely very much on her because she is a wonderful nurse with them.

The accident had happened in Netanya, Israel, where my parents spend part of the year. Mum had been admitted to hospital and my sister needed to travel out as quickly as possible. We were told that it wasn’t serious: my mum was in shock, but ok.

Unlike Suzy, I know I’m not a good nurse – but I do have my uses. Within 20 minutes I had my sister and her London-based daughter, Abby, booked on the next flight out from Heathrow and a car had arrived to take Suzy straight to London’s Heathrow Airport. With Suzy on her way, I spent most of the day on the phone to my dad, trying to keep him calm. He sounded increasingly desperate as he described my mum’s condition. Very worried about them both, I telephoned some of their friends and asked them to see if they could help until my sister arrived. When the friends called back, they made some comments about my mum’s condition that worried me more. My sister arrived, phoned from the hospital and said that although my mum was suffering from superficial head injuries, her condition was stable and there was no need for my brother or me to travel out.

The next day the world changed again. Suzy asked me to get there as fast as I could.

I found myself at Luton Airport, on the next flight out of the UK to Tel Aviv. Two thousand miles from my mum and panicking, I spent £50 on sweets, chocolates, energy bars moisturized tissues and magazines that somehow I thought we all might need in the hospital.

I arrived in Israel a few hours after my brother, who had taken a night flight from London. I checked into a local hotel and a waiting taxi took me to the hospital, where I raced up a few flights of stairs to my mum’s ward. I flew past people on trolleys in the aisles and people lying in beds until I came to the end of the ward and saw a side ward with four women in it. One of them was my mum. I couldn’t easily recognise her from her facial injuries. I went straight up to her and kissed her. She managed a weak smile and whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you”. All those years of hiding my feelings from clients came in very useful at that point. I was terribly shocked when I saw her and couldn’t show it. The feelings are difficult to describe.

The main challenge was stabilising her through the trauma she had sustained. She had fallen flat onto her face. She isn’t strong or well, and her blood pressure was dangerously high. There were two drips over her bed. My exhausted father was sent back to their apartment to get some sleep along with my brother. Suzy, Abby and I sat on some white plastic chairs we found to monitor my mum through the night at her bedside.

At around 2 am I found myself looking around the darkened ward, thinking how surreal it was. What was I doing in a Middle Eastern hospital where few people spoke English? Nothing made sense. When had I last eaten? I couldn’t remember. Why wasn’t I asleep at home? Why was my mum lying in that tiny bed so ill?  The woman in the next bed suddenly sat up and cried out. Her appendix had been removed and she was six months pregnant. She was in terrible pain and clearly thought she was miscarrying. I ran and got the nurse and a doctor, but there was no treatment they could give her. They told her to try and get some rest, but I managed to understand from her that she was too frightened to go to sleep. So during that night I found myself nursing a complete stranger. My Luton tissues came in handy to mop her brow; I fetched her some water from a vending machine,which she sipped through the night. She held my hand at one point, as I was trying to get her to sleep and at the same time there was Mum in the next bed, who also had to be nursed. At one point the woman asked me in her broken English if I was a nurse, and I said no. It was one of the kindest things that anyone has ever said to me.

As for my mum: a wise person once said that there is no point worrying about what might happen in the future. Just love those around you as much as you can. That’s what I told myself and kept telling myself during that night as Suzy and I watched over our mum.

Che sera, sera. What will be, will be.

My mum made it and we are all now home in England. What’s more, when she was first discharged, “as weak as a kitten” in her words, she still managed (with help) to light the Shabbat candles in their apartment. Together we celebrated the first night of Chanukah with the lighting of more candles. She sat at the table to eat for a while, and again it was all surreal. It seemed we had gone back in time forty years, and that we sitting around the table as children again. My traumatised parents – my barely recognisable mum and my stressed out dad – beamed at us, and told us how much they loved us.

Many of us, like me, have families and friends, parents, spouses, children, brothers, sisters and grandparents, that we take for granted. We don’t tell them often enough, perhaps never, how much we love them.

At this time of the year, all of us, with or without faith are meant to celebrate a season of goodwill to all mankind. Families will spend time together with families. Friends will be with friends. Not everyone will be able to tell their loved ones how much they are truly loved. Many more will be desperately missing their loved ones: spouses or partners, parents and children, grandparents and grandchildren. They will be missing them and aching for an opportunity to tell them how much they are loved. Please think of them, too; there is nothing to lose by reaching out. Che sera, sera. What will be, will be. So what is stopping you?

Seasons Greetings, and much love to everyone.

Image credit: Mary Cassatt.

Sir,

Caryl Churchill’s controversial play Seven Jewish Children (Howard Jacobson, 18 February) depicts hate-filled, evil Jewish mothers corrupting their children. Ms Churchill is clearly not a Jewish mother, and has no Jewish children. On the other hand the mother of the late Yoni Jesner, a British medical student blown up by a suicide bomber on a bus in Tel Aviv, is dual qualified.

Her dead son’s kidneys were donated without her knowledge, by the Israeli hospital where he died, to a young Palestinian child who was at the top of their wait list. They made no discrimination between Arab and Jew, nor made any allowance for how the boy had met his death. When his mother learned what had happened, she visited the Palestinian family. She showed nothing but love for the Palestinian girl and her parents in the face of the greatest loss any mother could ever endure.

Yoni Jesner’s mother is a real Jewish mother, of her real and beloved Jewish child, now dead. She is the courageous face of the truth, not fiction.

Yours sincerely

Marilyn Stowe

The Old Court House

Harrogate

HG1 1LT

Faith can be of real help to those inclined to call upon it.

On Saturday night, millions of Jewish people around the world will sit down to a festive dinner called the “Seder”, to celebrate the beginning of the eight days of Passover.

It is an opportunity for the whole family to gather round the dinner table and retell the biblical story of how Moses led the Children of Israel out of Egypt, crossing the Red Sea and wandering in the wilderness for 40 years, before arriving in Israel, the Promised Land. They escaped slavery and avoided the 10 plagues, which “passed over” their homes.

It is a time for the children to take part by asking four questions of the family. Traditionally, these are sung in Hebrew by the youngest child present, who starts off by asking, “Why is this night different from all other nights?” Those gathered round give answers, enjoy their dinner and give thanks for their survival. It is a festival which passes on the story of Jewish survival against all the odds. Moreover – and importantly – it is a time for celebration of the family and family life.

It is the issue of faith, no matter how that faith is defined, that repeatedly comes back to me in my everyday work. This, despite the fact that faith is often viewed as being “off the wall”, “irrelevant” or the provenance of extremists.

In a world that seems to worship the “have it all” mentality, no matter what the cost, so many of us seem to have forgotten that faith can be a force for good. Faith can give us a set of moral standards against which we can judge ourselves and make decisions. According to a recent study, we are all much wealthier than we were 20 years ago; but how many of us stop to give thanks for what we have? What we have is precious, but is easily lost – and all too easily thrown away.

Last Sunday was an extraordinary one for me. I was fully dressed, made up and setting off for a converted cotton mill just outside Keighley, in West Yorkshire, at the unearthly hour of 6.30am!

I was there for the filming of a new TV show, which starts on BBC One this Sunday, called Sunday Life. Presented by the former Olympic athlete Colin Jackson and the news presenter Louise Minchin, it will cover all aspects of faith. From what I saw, it will be a cracking programme. It appears to me that rather than being divisive and unpleasant, or focusing upon the dangers of extremist “religious” practices, this series aims to demonstrate the good things about moderate faith.

The first programme features a moving film about a visit to Auschwitz by the Emmerdale actress Georgia Slowe, some of whose own family members were murdered there.  I was deeply shocked to discover that some young people in this country are growing up believing that the Holocaust “never happened”.

Another feature was about an interfaith walk through England, which has arisen from a campaign by a woman who was badly injured in the London train bombings. The programme also has a family that will be reporting back each week on its discoveries about major religions.

I was there to review the papers, and I chose to talk about Tony Blair and his new “Faith Foundation“. I don’t have any arguments with what he said in his speech at Westminster Hall last week, but I do take issue with his policy of “We don’t do G-d” while in government, for fear of being thought a crackpot. My fellow panellist, the children’s author GP Taylor, spoke about a choirboy who has been bullied. It struck me that if the Prime Minister doesn’t robustly stand up for his faith in office, how can we be surprised about a choirboy’s victimisation?

I enjoyed my Sunday morning with the programme very much and I look forward to going back. In the meantime, the practical values of faith have been playing on my mind.

None of us can forecast what life is going to throw at us, and how it is going to test our strengths and weaknesses. I accept that divorce is an inevitable and unstoppable consequence of an increasingly materialistic society, especially if there is a rapid downturn in the economy.

At the same time I have been struck how, in several cases in which we have been instructed, a marriage is ending because one spouse was having an affair and thought it was possible to “have it all” – no matter what this decision inflicted on their partner and children.

There are those who would argue, why should someone stay trapped in an unhappy marriage? It is pointless and unfair to all concerned? I accept this, and I believe that many questions are unanswerable. However, I would still recommend some serious soul searching before pulling the plug. In such cases, I believe that faith can be of real help to those inclined to call upon it, by asking questions of our consciences and providing guidelines that can make the toughest of decisions a little easier.

May I wish “Chag Sameach” this Passover, to my Jewish readers worldwide.

Perhaps I have been fortunate; in my experience, arguments over religious divorce between parties are swiftly resolved.

The row over the Archbishop of Canterbury and his comments about the “unavoidable” introduction of parts of Sharia law has gone global. I have some sympathy for the beleaguered Archbishop, because he is a deeply sincere man and wholly committed to the Church of England. He appreciates that we live in a multicultural society and wishes to embrace and welcome those not of his Church. In general, I believe he has been misinterpreted and misunderstood. However, I can also understand how his comments have caused great offence to all faiths and have been viewed by many as inflammatory. He hoped to do some good, but seems to have achieved the opposite.

As the debate has gathered in intensity, the apparent “exclusivity” of the interplay between the Jewish faith and English family law has also emerged as a subject for discussion. Being Jewish and a divorce lawyer I may be able to offer a little clarity. In my experience, the two work quietly and successfully together. I also believe it is important to note that the relevant part of English civil law is not exclusive – but is equally available to all faiths.

The English civil divorce process takes place in two stages. One half of a couple (the Petitioner) applies for a divorce, after which the court will grant a ‘decree nisi’. In most cases, six weeks later the petitioner can apply to the court for the divorce to be made absolute. It is at this stage that the parties become fully divorced from one another.

However, the court will delay the granting of a Decree Absolute when there is good reason, the most obvious being the lack of financial settlement.

Another reason to delay the Decree Absolute is when one of the parties is also obtaining a religious divorce, and that religious divorce has not yet occurred.

Not every faith group sanctions divorce. Neither the Church of England nor Roman Catholicism recognise it. As a result, these faiths have not established a process for divorce. However, it is formally recognised by other faiths, including Judaism.

In a case in which a religious divorce is also being obtained, it is clearly important to ensure that the marriage is ended under both regimes. Otherwise there would be what English lawyers describe as a “limping” marriage”, whereby parties are still married according to one civil system, but not another. This means that there is an ability to remarry under one regime, but not under the other. Although this may suit one of the spouses, it hampers a party who wishes to remarry under both regimes and ensure that any children subsequently born are deemed legitimate in both civil and religious law.

Section 10A of the Matrimonial Causes Act (MCA) 1973 gives the court power to postpone the grant of a Decree Absolute of divorce until the religious divorce has been obtained. Section10A applies equally to “any other prescribed religious usages” as well as the Jewish faith, and is not tailored exclusively to Jewish divorces. It is aimed at all religions with a divorce process.

Practitioners are rarely experts in the religious laws of their clients. I certainly am not. However, as a divorce lawyer, I do my best to accommodate the needs of all my clients. In the case of a divorcing couple who are Jewish, this can lead to my discussing the case with the local “Beth Din“. This is the Jewish court, which routinely deals with lawyers on this subject.  In practice, the Beth Din will not normally permit a religious divorce between the parties until a Decree Nisi is in place, thus ensuring that there is no “limping” marriage. So it is important for a divorce lawyer to make sure that a Jewish divorce takes place following the Decree Nisi – and only then obtaining the Decree Absolute.

I find that Section 10A works well in practice when required. At the same time, I recognise that perhaps I have been fortunate; in my experience, arguments over religious divorce between parties are swiftly resolved. I appreciate that this may not always be the case. A divorce solicitor may be ignorant of the requirements of the religious law, but he or she must be alive to the possibility of postponing the Decree Absolute until any issues are resolved.  If Section 10A is ignored by a divorce lawyer who is unaware of the possibility of a delayed Decree Absolute, it could lead to a negligence claim from a client who is left unable to remarry within their religion. It is vitally important to ensure that in such cases, both religious and civil divorces occur simultaneously.

At Stowe Family Law, the requirement of any religious divorce is one of the first matters on which we will obtain instructions from our clients. We will also confirm with our opposite numbers that agreement has been reached about this. It matters profoundly to some clients, but to others not at all. Following a Decree Nisi, if there is no religious divorce and one is needed, we will make a Section 10A application.

On a wider stage, I believe that this interplay between the civil law and religious divorce requirements is a great example of the multicultural accomplishments of British society and its lawmakers. It is an example of understanding and attempting to meet the needs of others, without compromising established laws and systems. In my view, this is one of the reasons why our legal system in England and Wales is the envy of the world.