This past Shabbat we said, “Chazak, Chazak, Venitchazek” as we prayed for God to give us the strength to continue reading from the Torah. As we said it, I was feeling that I am going to miss Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus, as I do each year.

I am going to miss the chanting of the Shirat Hayam, the song of the crossing of the sea, and I am going to miss the rising drama that begins with the humble burning shrub and call to Moses and ends with a showdown with Pharaoh and the Israelites marching en masse into the wilderness. Passover is a reprieve in that we have an opportunity to re-experience the Exodus, retell the story, act it out, ask questions about it, sing about it, dress up in our bathrobe-ancient-Israelite costumes, and eat matzah and charoset for eight days. However, it is now time to make our exodus from Exodus and move into the world of Sefer Vayikra, the Book of Leviticus. We will find that although Leviticus appears to be a world apart from Exodus, there is a strong link from one to the other and much meaning and spirit to be gained in Leviticus’ 27 chapters.

Many of us likely have stories about the interesting and out-of-the-way spots where we have engaged in prayer. I remember participating in a mincha service with fellow Ramah Berkshires staffers outside the movie theater in Binghamton. There was the small storefront Masorti synagogue in Nice on the southern coast of France. There was the time I recited mincha up on Karnei Hittim, outside of Tiberias, as I looked across toward the hills and Tzfat, both covered lightly by clouds.