Weeks after I prayed at the Western Wall at the start of the new Hebrew month of Adar II, I still struggle to find meaning in the concept of Jewish peoplehood.
Related Blog Posts on Rosh Chodesh
When we arrived in Israel, I removed it my kippah. I’d become comfortable wearing it in Toronto, but in Israel, I feared being questioned about my Jewish choice.
We read in Pirkei Avot, “Be among the disciples of Aaron – seek peace and pursue it.” One of our highest aspirations as Jews is to establish peace within our homes, within our communities, and in our world. Sh'lom bayit (peace in the home) is a core value of
I was making my way outside of the Kotel with four other college students when a group of about 50 Haredim started following us through the streets. Quickly, things turned violent
Although we may think time moves in a linear fashion, Jewish holidays insert themselves in unexpected moments and places, seemingly out-of-sync with our expectations.
Despite the imperative to be joyous during the Hebrew month of Adar, I cried recently at the Western Wall during Rosh Chodesh services marking the new month.
Last night, in both Phoenix and Jerusalem, those who benefit most from the status quo rallied to defend it, vilifying those seeking change and social progress.
This week, our natural world is telling us that beyond the darkness there is light. Behind the dark circle of the moon there is a warm, bright, shining light.
Recently, Israel’s prime minister reneged on an agreement for an egalitarian prayer space at the Kotel. In the aftermath, what can we learn from the Talmud?
My mixed impressions about Rosh Chodesh Adar will still take some time to settle, but I feel enriched and empowered knowing that each small step is meaningful in the ongoing struggle for all Jews to feel welcome and respected at that holy space.