It is life we want, no more and no less than that, our own life feeding on our own vital sources, in the fields and under the skies of our homeland, a life based on our own physical and mental labors; we want vital energy and spiritual richness from this living source.
I remember slings and arrows,
Cruel fortune that cast me into the desert
The first desert was freedom
So no: not that desert.
This was a desert of
My commute to work every morning is not typical. I drive through the Roaring Fork Valley with majestic, now snow-covered, mountains on my left and my right. The sky is often a clear, bright blue, and the sun glimmers off the powdery snow that shifts in the wind. I am the cantor at the Aspen Jewish Congregation, and I certainly feel blessed to live and work in such a beautiful place. This quote from Isaiah is particularly fitting for this part of the country, as the people here are very in touch with the nature around them - often finding their spiritual center while skiing a run or hiking in the hills.
This week we dive into the second book of the Torah, Exodus. While the book of Genesis traversed thousands of years, Exodus focuses on the evolution of the Israelites as a people for 40 defining years.
As a Reform Jew, I lead a largely secular life. Most of my friends aren't Jewish. My daily schedule is governed more by school hours and work demands than it is by rituals of worship. And the synagogue plays only a peripheral role in my life.
Whenever I'm asked if the Jewish holidays are coming early or late this year, I promptly answer that they'll be coming on time. And that's partially true. Rosh Hashanah will always arrive on the first day of the Jewish month of Tishrei just as Hanukkah will always begin on the 25th of Kislev.
Tu BiShvat, the birthday of the trees (or the new year of the trees) is a minor Jewish holiday.