The Next Link
If Beernut had the Ima for a mom, the day probably would have started with pancakes in the shape of the aleph-bet. [I SO want to be her when I grow up.]
I really had planned to make a batch of Beernut’s favourite muffins. It was a total b’li neder moment because by the time I got home from shul on Tuesday night (with a side trip to the market), got the groceries put away, prepped everyone’s bags for the next day, and took a shower, it was 10:16pm and I could not imagine doing anything that could not be done in a horizontal position, with my eyes closed, and in a semi-conscious state.
So he got his favourite yogurt instead.
Yesterday. 20 Elul 5769. The first day of Hebrew School. How did my little Beernut get old enough to go to Hebrew School?
I still remember my first day of Hebrew School. It was a bittersweet moment. My teacher was Mrs. Douglas, who was the mother of my first boyfriend, Mikey. She was really tall and very nice. And I learned a lot from her. But she was a last minute addition to the teaching staff, hired to replace Mrs. Burkin, z”l. Mrs. Burkin, my friend Hale’s mom, was rumoured to be the nicest Hebrew School teacher at the shul and I had been eagerly anticipating being her student. She got sick that summer and, though we did not know it at the time, would not recover from her illness.
Funny, really, how that one incident colours my memory of that entire year. I think that she was the first mom I knew who died. Which made Hale the first kid I knew without a mother. I went over to Hale’s house for dinner a few months after the funeral. His dad served hamburgers inbetween two slices of white bread.
So this is what it’s like when there are no women in the house. This is what it must be like without a mother.
It seemed so awfully sad.
I loved Hebrew School. Every minute of it. I loved my blue machberet (they’re still blue!!). I loved the teachers from Europe who were clearly thrilled to see a thriving, living young generation of Jewish children. I loved the crazy Israeli teachers whose thick accents and limited knowledge of American colloquialisms regularly sent us into fits of hysterics. I even loved being kicked out of class and sent to the Rabbi’s office on the final day of my final year of Hebrew for insubordination.
Beernut, you follow in the footsteps of your parents, your uncles, your tantes, your grandparents, all the way back to the shtetls in Galicia and Lithuania and Russia. [I claim Lithuania as my home…you are free to count the others as well. You should know, however, that it is a well-documented fact that those Galiktzianers are just plain crazy! But I digress… Now where was I….oh yes…] You follow in the footsteps of all those who came before you, and our shared language links you to every generation all the way back to the shadow of the Mountain. Now the words will leap off the page for you and lead you on God’s Path. And for that, my sweet son, your parents rejoice.
Life in Song
(sung to the tune of “Frog Song”)
One morning when Daddy stepped out of his bed,
he tripped on your toys and fell on his head.
A bump on his nose, a bruise on his toes.
Toy here, toys there,
all your toys are everywhere!!!
Mr. Kettle? Mr. Kettle, there’s a Mr. Pot Calling for You
Wolf hunting season opened today in Idaho. Now that the wolf has been removed from the endangered species list, I guess it’s OK for us to shoot them.
A full story can be found here.
“They’re a pack of dogs and they’ll chase stuff down for the fun of it.” Ironically, this was one of the hunters complaining about the wolves.
Hm….
We Pause…
During last week’s field trip to a local amusement park, Beernut was very careful to make certain that he finished his milchig items before moving on to his fleishig foodstuffs. To his credit, he has always been conscientious about our dietary boudaries…even going so far as to examine the ingredients in Bubbe and Zayde’s pantry on occasion.
Like me, I know that for Beernut observing kashrut goes beyond a set of commandments from God. The so-called “dietary restrictions” act as a spiritual station identification for us. Each time we eat, we are reminded that we belong to God. We belong to a group of people who has been identified by what we do not eat for hundreds of generations.
So it was particularly troubling to learn that one of the other campers (from this Jewish daycamp) said to Beernut:
Doesn’t it suck not being able to eat cheeseburgers and pepperoni?
The other kid was not making a statement of commiseration.
Reminds me of when I was in high school and non-Jewish classmates would ask me why I was eating matzah and refraining from eating certain foods when the other Jewish kids seemed just fine eating like everyone else.
Why aren’t these questions aimed at those who are in violation of the commandments???
To his credit, and completely contrary to his normal character, Beernut did not get involved in any type of defense as to why it’s important to separate meat and milk and abstain from seafood and pork products. He simply said “nope” and continued with his lunch.
Nor did he explain to his companion that “suck” is a really bad word and not allowed in our house.
A New Theology
God gave me my ‘shama.
Peach announced this as bedtime last night. A ‘shama (translation: neshama) is a Hebrew word for ‘soul.’ Not coincidentally, the word neshama (soul) shares a root with the word neshima(breath), for it is the ‘breath’ of God that gives life to humans (see Genesis 2:7).
And where is your neshama, Peach?
Peach lifted his shirt.
In my pupik!
The Perennial Thistle
How did it get to be Elul already??? It seems like just yesterday we were at Sinai…
With the fall holidays upon us, we have some serious work to do. It is during this time that we reflect on our personal failings over the past year as well as our personal triumphs.
What could I have done better in my relationships with my loved ones?
Where might I have made wiser choices regarding my Jewish observance?
How can I make certain to continue doing those things that improve our world?
Like a tune-up for our cars, we use this as an opportunity to recalibrate our souls.
Am I really happy with the ways in which I treat others?
Do my words accurately reflect who I am? Do they reflect who I hope to become?
The Yamim Noraim (the [ten] days of awe) can be a period of intense reflection and, as a result, can be both exhausting and exhilarating as we realize that our efforts are always accepted by the Holy One.
This type of concentrated rumination requires preliminary groundwork in order for it to be effective. My teacher, Rabbi DadGiraffe offers the artichoke as a tangible metaphor for this soul-work. As a defense mechanism, we surround our souls with a gristly exterior meant to shield it from pain. Prickly thorns sometimes prevent others from getting too close. Until we peel back the layers, we often mistake these outer layers as our true selves.
This is not a pop quiz! God does not seek our failure. However, cramming for this examination of the soul is not an effectual technique. Sufficient effort is required. Beginning with this new month of Elul, our Tradition offers us adequate time to shed the hardened walls and prepare to meet our God on Yom Kippur.
We have much work to do. Setting aside time each day can provide the sacred space to do this very sacred work. Whether one chooses to read the traditional prayers of S’lichot, utilize a guided workbook such as Preparing Your Heart for the High Holy Days, or contemplate the questions on this Elul worksheet, the time devoted to stripping away the layers will be time well spent.
May we use this time wisely as we prepare to gather during this precious opportunity for renewal.
Lost
Bat Mitzvah rehearsal starting and I can’t find the right door at the synagogue. The building is just so large and there aren’t any directional signs. I try the first set of doors. Locked. Mumbling to myself, I get back in the car and drive to the left. Nope. Those doors are locked as well. Now I’m late. And starting to panic. Cursing to myself, I drive to the right. Around and around and around the building.
Success!
No. This was not a rabbi’s bad dream.
This was this rabbi’s experience while visiting an out-of-town shul.
It was an important reminder for synagogue professionals to enter their own buildings as if they are visitors. Are entrances clearly marked? Is there someone to greet newcomers when they first enter the building? Even if it is not Shabbat? Are bathrooms easy to locate? What about babysitting or the coat room?
We all proclaim to welcome the stranger. How are we doing??
HaDavar
The annual ritual begins in its customary fashion. The beginning of August rolls around and I start to gather the notes I’ve been collecting all year. Ideas and themes mull about, but nothing gets put to paper until after the yearly gathering. That is, the annual High Holy Day Seminar, sponsored by the Board of Rabbis of Southern California, which brings rabbis from all over the state together for a day of learning and sharing.
If rabbis spend time thinking about what they want to say, do worshippers spend time thinking about what they want to hear?
Tell me. What topic do you hope your rabbi will address this year? What message do you need to hear?
Watching…and Waiting
In her pink sweater and white skirt, the wide-eyed four-year-old little girl cautiously approached the woman. There was something familiar about her. This woman whom she had not seen in 140 days – 10% of her life. The woman beckoned, and she allowed herself to be hugged. Then she remembered. And tucked herself into her mother’s warm embrace.
This past week, Hanna Saldate, daughter of journalist Euna Lee, was reunited with her mother as both Ms. Lee and Laura Ling were safely returned to their families.
This past week, we witnessed the mitzvah of pidyon sh’vuyim – the redemption of captives.
According to the Talmud (Bava Batra 8b), captivity is harder that all [other forms of suffering] because it includes the suffering of all [the other forms]. Starvation, physical punishment, isolation. These are just a few of the unimaginable hardships faced by those held in interment. Captivity affects the families of the detained as well. For they face the despair of not knowing when, or if, their son or daughter, husband or wife, father or mother will return home.
An ancient people, we are well-acquainted with the suffering faced by those held captive. As long as we have lived among a hostile majority, the mitzvah of pidyon sh’vuyim has been a central obligation of every Jewish community. Throughout the Middle Ages, and even into modern times, communal funds were established to pay for the ransoming of Jews held hostage simply because they were Jews. So commonplace was the abduction of Jews that a prayer was included in our daily liturgy to thank God for redeeming the captive.
Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam matir asurim.
Blessed are You, Sovereign of the universe, who frees the captive.
Though our joy at the release of the two American journalists should not be diminished, our community continues to pray for the secure release of IDF Staff Sergeant Gilad Shalit, whose abduction by Hamas on 25 June 2006, has caused a searing absence in the lives of his family, friends, and fellow soldiers. Just as God has redeemed countless others from their captors, may Divine Redemption come too for Gilad and all those whose names are unknown to us. May God grant them strength as they, and their loved ones, continue to wait…with undying hope…for release from their internment.
Keyn y’hi ratzon
May this be God’s Will
Day of Love
Just a few days past the saddest day of the year (Tisha b’Av), we find ourselves at the 15th of Av, known as Tu B’Av. It is a sort-of Jewish Valentine’s Day. Tu B’Av celebrates an ancient festival in which young, unmarried women dressed in white and went to dance in the fields. No one knows for certain what happened once the young women got to the field, but one this is for certain. It definitely involved men and matchmaking! Interestingly, it sounds an awful like an ancient tradition involving young unmarried women and men frolicking in fields on Yom Kippur afternoon…
(A WONDERFUL article can be found at My Jewish Learning and at The Jewish Standard.)
Anyway, I thought it might be nice to mark this day of love with a special, refreshing dessert for PC.
Happy Tu B’Av, Love!
Frume Sarah is Shabbos-observant -- in a Reform way, that is. Please note that from Friday afternoons until one hour after sundown on Saturday evenings, Frume Sarah will be unavailable, in observance of the Jewish Sabbath.
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