In the book of Numbers (15:38-39), we read that the Israelites were instructed to "make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments…that they shall look at it and recall all the commandments of the Eternal and observe them..."
There is a moment during the N'ilah service on Yom Kippur that stays with me, always. I want to say that it haunts me, but that's really not the right image. It's more a flooding, a rushing-out-and-rushing-in-at-the-exact-same-moment kind of thing.
At the conclusion of Yom Kippur years ago, I attended a break-the-fast at the home of old friends. I loaded my plate with a bagel, lox, and vegetables and ambled over to a conversational group, where I stood munching and listening.
When I think of the word “hope,” one sentence comes to mind: Hope is a dangerous thing.
I don't remember where or when I first heard the statement, and I'm fairly sure it was intended as a warning, but the idea has stuck with me.
Hope is a dangerous thing.
A Major League Baseball committee proposed new rules last month for using instant replay to correct the mistakes of umpires – and I’ve been thinking about how much easier things would be if we could just apply those rules to everyday life.
We asked clergy across North America which music, books, art, movies and more help them get into a reflective state of mind as they gear up for the High Holidays.
Sure enough, last week I saw the first chatzav flower of the season – which was actually sort of surprising, as it's been several years since the last leap year, so the holidays are "early" in the solar year this year.
Most rabbis spend the summer months preparing for the High Holydays. This summer, my High Holiday preparation included travelling to Lucknow, India, with 16 rabbis representing Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, and Renewal Jewish communities across America.