If, as the Talmud tells us, the blasts of the shofar are meant to remind us of crying, (Babylonian Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 33A – specifically of Sisera’s mother – but that is another subject!), then I would offer the following.
Kol ha'Olam - the whole world was glued to Boston this week. The beautiful weekend, followed by an amazing race, with perfect running conditions. The only heartbreak, we thought, being the hills of Newton. Kol ha'Olam - the whole world gathered to cheer on world-class athletes, a world-class race course, with world-class fans. Kol ha'Olam - we know that in this whole world, we are not the only ones who face and fear tragedies like this and yet, Kol ha'Olam - it feels today in our whole world of Boston that we are under siege, and we are scared and we fear for our safety, for the safety of our loved ones, and for the safety of those we don't even know.
A deep spiritual life is hard to find. While opportunities abound for spiritual connections (yoga, meditation, retreats and the like), for most of us it doesn’t come easy.
Although we’re barely into the dog days of August, the High Holidays are fast approaching. The first of Elul, the Hebrew month that precedes Tishrei and the start of Rosh HaShanah, begins at sundown this Tuesday, which means that Wednesday, August 7th is the first of Elul.
Last week I had lunch with a rabbi friend who told me he’s in the midst of preparing four different sermons for the upcoming High Holidays.
In parshat Lech L’cha God commanded Abraham to leave his home, his father’s house, and the land of his birth. He also commanded Abraham: v’heyeh bracha (“Be a Blessing). Here’s a song and a poem.
When God gave us the Torah at Sinai -- so says our tradition -- we responded with na'aseh v'nishmah, "We will do and we will hear." Sounds kind of backwards, doesn't it? How can we follow instructions if we don't hear them first?