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If
the pen is mightier than the sword perhaps the brush is mightier
than the pen? It could be, if you are a sofer (scribe). Someone
who actually writes Torahs, Mezzuzah scripture, Ketubahs and all
manner of Judaica that requires illustration or calligraphy. Jamie
Shear is such a man.
While mighty and distinguished
hands have wielded the signatory power of the pen over the ages
(think presidents, heads of state, poets and songsmiths) often
overlooked have been those practiced in the art and tradition
of the scribe. One of the single most important documents of all
time, the Torah, has ever been delicately fashioned by the fingers
that brandish the talent of the sofer. When we read from
the Torah in synagogue, we often forget that someone actually
had to write this. Each letter is brush-stroked to exacting standards
set down millennia beforehand by the elders of the Jewish people.
This is no mere "job".
This is a mitzvah. Ironically enough, one laid out in
the Torah itself. Each time Jamie inks a new Torah he completes
the mitzvah all over again and perpetuates it all at
the same time. It's a delicious cycle that makes him happy, proud
and wax philosophical of his chosen profession. Jamie muses, “What
is Torah? Is it a book of Mitzvot? Yes it is. Is it a
book of our heritage? It's that too. The whole process connects
one with God."
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Walking
into his new studio in Montreal's Cote-Des-Neiges district you are
immediately struck by reproductions of his past works on the walls.
Beautiful ketubahs created for the brides and grooms of
weddings past adorn the still mostly Spartan walls of the room.
At thirty-three years old, Jamie Shear is a humble man of grace,
intelligence and creativity and his workplace is testament to these
facets of his character. He appears as you might imagine a scribe
would, delicate, almost tapered fingers, a short-cropped beard and
a face capable of intense concentration. He chooses his responses
in this interview carefully and thoughtfully before giving succinct
answers.
While classical music wafts softly
from an unobtrusive radio on a small table, a giant parchment-stretching
apparatus (or hurse) sits nearby quietly lengthening what
may become a scroll or background for a new ketubah. It's
an instrument that looks like it could have come straight from biblical
times, all wooden, bulky and with a raw finish to it; a scribe's
tool from a much simpler age. Yet there it is, doing the work it
has always done. It's a peaceful setting that reflects the tranquil
demeanor of its owner.
Jamie takes great pleasure from his
work but he admits it is not always easy. Base minimum time to write
a Torah is at least one year. "Comfortably it takes me a year
and a half if I want to do other things. It’s very intense
work. The posture, the mental preparation… it’s a book
of life; and a book of life requires life. After working on it I’ve
given it a lot of life" he says, feigning exasperation
and with a giggle. "but you get life back from it once it’s
completed.”
To illustrate just how connected he
gets to his work on a Torah, Jamie likens the end process and parting
to another of life's more poignant moments. “Finishing a Torah
is like a wedding for me. At the dedication of the Torah it’s
like marrying off one of my children. It’s very symbolic.”
Speaking of family, Jamie recently
became the proud father of a new baby girl. Along with Amy his wife
and sons Moshe and Uriel (five years and three years old respectively)
young Navah arrived on the scene in late 2003. Just as we're discussing
these facts the phone rings. It's his wife, Amy. Just a quick update
on the plans for caring for baby Navah after our interview is done.
He comes back with a smile adorning his thoughtful face, as only
the truly happy father can wear.
Up until this point, Jamie has spoken
little outside of his obvious passion for his work and the mitzvah
of being a sofer; but now he opens up slightly for a glimpse
at his personal life when talk turns to his children and the interweaving
of Torah and their births in his life.
“Talking about coincidences…
I received my first commission (for a Torah) in 1998. I felt I wasn’t
ready for such a holy project and responsibility at the time. So
I took a few months to mentally prepare for the task. I was nervous.
But I chose a symbolic date to begin the work, the beginning of
the month of Shvat. That month’s beginning is also known as
a sort of Rosh Hashanah for the trees. The week before, I had had
my first child, Moshe. Then I started work on my first Torah.”
Another smile flashes over his face in a reflective reverie, as
if remembering with sweetness the intertwining of that first birth
and the true commencement of his craft and life as both father and
sofer. “Uriel was born during the work on my second Torah.
And Navah was born the day we had the dedication ceremony for the
second Torah; which (in turn) was during my work on the third Torah.”
It's clear this fusion of life and
work has made Jamie a very spiritually wealthy, albeit busy man.
When asked how he balances his family life and the life he has to
give to his work he jokingly ripostes, "You wake up earlier".
He says, laughing. "and teamwork with my wife. She’s
very busy pursuing her MA in Jewish Studies. So it’s all about
teamwork.” |
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Born
in Montreal, Jamie traveled to Israel to pursue his studies in scripture.
It was early on in youth where he found his interest in the words
of the Torah. A demonstration by a sofer at summer camp intrigued
him enough to seek out a teacher. "I didn’t know that
I wanted to do it professionally, but I wanted to learn because
of the power of the mitzvah involved. I didn’t know at the
time that I had made a connection with this line of work but when
I went to Israel the next year I immediately looked for a Scribe
to teach me how to write.” In Israel, Jamie met Chaim Dovid
Sarachik and began to apprentice under him.
His original plan was to study biology
at Bar Ilan University and eventually pursue a career in nutrition.
While completing his BSc. in Biology he continued to doggedly pursue
the scribe's way. "It wasn’t until a few years later
of working at it when I got encouragement from clients and the community
that I made the decision to be a scribe. I saw that I could not
devote my time to both pursuits if I wanted to do either of them
properly." Thus, during his fourth (and final) year at Bar
Ilan, he renewed his dedication to the art and laws of writing scripture
and immersed himself full time in what he describes as, "a
year of real solid concentrated study and work and practice"
culminating in his scribal certification from Vaad Mishmeret STaM
in B'nei Brak, Israel.
Despite all evidence to the contrary,
Jamie was not always artistic. His skill had to be coaxed out of
him through tireless practice. “I took courses wanting to
embellish and decorate my own scripts. Prior to this I was never
an artist. It’s strictly a developed skill.” Developed
and then rigorously applied with astonishingly beautiful results.
Samples of his amazing Ketubahs can be viewed at www.ktavtam.com/ketubot.html.
There was one small sacrifice for
his craft though; so accustomed and inflexible have his hands become
through the rigors of practiced scripture, that his "normal"
writing has become almost illegible even to him.
As an example of the patience, dedication
and discipline necessary to the sofer's craft, Jamie asks
you to consider the following; there are nearly 10,000 lines of
script in a Torah. Each letter must be perfect and mistakes are
anathema.
A single error can cause the Torah
in its entirety to be unfit for use. Direr is an errant stroke while
writing the name of G-d. He elaborates, "That’s the biggest
mistake you can make. If you’re gonna make a mistake that’s
not the one you want to make." He says, laughing, thoughtful
eyes crinkling at the edges. "You can make a mistake on any
other word in the Torah because you can always erase it and rewrite
or fix it. Not so with the name of G-d. You can’t erase that.”
No, He probably wouldn't find that too funny.
Jamie's last task was laudable. He
spearheaded Project M.O.S.E.S. (Masses of Students Expressing
Support) to write a new Torah. This one went to Hebrew University
in June 2004 in memory of the bombings and people who were killed
there in July of 2002. "Each letter of this Torah represents
a different person. So it has added an extra dimension to the writing
of this one in particular.” His involvement and sheer pride
at being immersed in a work for this cause are evident in his tone
as he describes the significance of this latest undertaking. "This
started off with the Montreal branch of Hillel. They commissioned
the Torah but it was a student project. Students from all over the
world donated $5 per letter of the Torah. So it was a multi-share
Torah. This will raised money for families who have been victimized
by terror in Israel."
Jamie himself brought the Torah to
Israel for the dedication ceremony. It will be the purest outgrowth
of his work as a sofer and a Jew; infusing his life into
this Torah in order to enshrine and remember the lives lost to the
horrors of terrorism one letter at a time.
He also has a personal stake in this,
"I lost people I knew in that incident. Another friend barely
escaped when they decided to eat somewhere instead of the University
cafeteria". He elaborates no further, the subject too difficult
to continue. This Torah will express what he cannot.
Somewhere Hashem will hold
this work in esteem for the ages. For Jamie truly is doing the work
of heaven. |





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