Approaching Shavuot, the time of matan Torah, the giving of the Torah, I have heard the song of the new Torah reader in a storefront minyan, and the song of the Jew by choice; the singing of Torah in cyberspace, and the 60-year-old chanting for the first time.
How did this happen? After generations of relegating Torah reading to professionals, and to those seemingly born into this artful skill, who finally took the “can’t” out of cantillation?
This year at your Passover seders, as you metaphorically depart Egypt, consider that you may also be leaving Kansas and traveling nonstop to the Land of Oz. Or, that matzoh in hand, you and your guests are heading into deepest space, going where no one has gone before.
This year on the seder nights of April 8 and 9, a magical world also awaits. If that sounds a bit much, how about exiting Egypt only to wind up in a show about nothing?
Planning a birthday party for your trees this Tu B’Shevat? Celebrating this year on Feb. 9, what on earth do you serve? Fruits, nuts, and wine are definitely on the menu. But if shopping for boxes of raisins or salted nuts doesn’t do much for your spirituality, there is a whole other way to go.
Tu B’Shvat (“tu,” the Hebrew letters tet-vav, have the numerical value of 15) is the holiday derived from the Bible and Mishnah that marks the Jewish new year for trees. It is celebrated on the 15th day of the month of Shevat in homes, synagogues, and centers with a fruit, nut, berry, and wine- or juice-filled seder.
Valentine’s Day is coming — as a Jew right now, are you feeling the love? Between the Madoff swindle and the invasion of Gaza, there’s not a whole lot of love toward Jews in the air.
The Jewish community could use a nice card right about now. Not one of those post-modern sarcastic ones, either.
Yes, Valentine’s Day is not a Jewish day. But a card with a “yasher koach,” a “may you have strength” from someone, would be awfully nice right now for a community rocked by affinity scams, budget meltdowns, and protest demonstrations.
LOS ANGELES (JTA)—This election year the calendar has dealt the Jewish community an October surprise. The final Friday of the month is Oct. 31, and many families, in addition to choosing a candidate, will now also need to decide the weightier issue of which Friday eve tradition to favor, Shabbat or Halloween?
This Sukkot, spiritually speaking, whom are you inviting into your outback shack? The official crew of ushpizin, Aramaic for guests, such as King David or Moses? Or are you ready to add some newcomers?
Is green the theme of the shofar this Rosh Hashanah season? In a year of sustainability and carbon footprints, high gas and hybrids, the shofar is the simplest, most eco-friendly method of reaching the Jewish community with a vital message.
A mourner at the Western Wall in Jerusalem marks Tisha B'Av in August '005. photo by Aaron Wenner/flickr
Jewish tradition teaches that we are commanded to write a Torah in our lifetime, but not a kinah, or dirge. For ages, our prophets and rabbis have done this for us, filtering and distancing, putting our most painful group memories into acrostic, poetic form.
Beginning with Eicha (Lamentations) and continuing with additional kinot, our forebears have turned the darkest days in our history into a ready-to-use alef-bet of tragedy.
Now as we approach Tisha B'Av, the 9th of Av, the fast day on which we remember the destruction of the First and Second Temples and other disasters that occurred on this date by chanting these kinot, I am encouraging you in this age of immersion and Googley do-it-yourself to pick up pencil or pen and write your own dirge.
Edmon Rodman says the scroll "remains a uniquely Jewish form." J. Nathan Matias/Creative Commons
In a world of books and pages and digitized memory, why do Jews hold onto the scroll?
As Shavuot and its focus on receiving the Torah approach, I must ask: Could it be that rolled along together somewhere in our minds with the love of Torah is the love of scroll?
We are fascinated with book forms that — when opened, extended, unfolded, or unrolled — change shape before our eyes. In the scroll, we have a form that can also expand our minds.
Edmon Rodman says the scroll "remains a uniquely Jewish form." J. Nathan Matias/Creative Commons
In a world of books and pages and digitized memory, why do Jews hold onto the scroll?
As Shavuot and its focus on receiving the Torah approach, I must ask: Could it be that rolled along together somewhere in our minds with the love of Torah is the love of scroll?
We are fascinated with book forms that — when opened, extended, unfolded, or unrolled — change shape before our eyes. In the scroll, we have a form that can also expand our minds.
