Last year our education center at Shorashim was asked by a high school in Haifa to help the staff there produce a day-long seminar for the 400 eleventh graders on Jewish pluralism and on what is shared – and what are the conflicts – among the various "streams" of Judaism.
I broke my wrist. Bummer. Major bummer. I didn’t do it with any kind of grace or with anything close to a great story attached to it. I tripped over a curb at the Mobile station. Great story. Did I mention I broke my right wrist, and that I am right-handed?
Last month I visited Beit Shemesh, a city less than an hour’s drive from Jerusalem. We had read about some of the most noteworthy incidents there, such as when a young girl was spat on by an ultra-Orthodox extremist on her way to school.
During the height of the recession, I moved to Switzerland. I had already lived in France, Japan, India and Israel, and traveled much of the rest of the world.
"Folk song calls the native back to his roots and prepares him emotionally to dance, worship, work, fight, or make love in ways normal to his place." Alan Lomax, Folk Songs of North America
While my neighbors were putting their Christmas trees to the curb, in what seems like a ritual of replacement, I was preparing to plant for Tu BiShvat.
[Editor's Note: This letter by Rabbi Michael Feshbach and Josh Silver was sent to Dan Snyder, owner of Washington, D.C.’s professional football team, on December 23, 2013.]
Dear Mr. Snyder:
It was 11 o'clock on a chilly September night and I was coming home from a gig - my first in New York City. I had just moved to Manhattan from Jerusalem a couple of months before to become a professional jazz bass player and would take any job I could get.