Lag BaOmer was completely off our radar when we lived in the United States. We never had any real exposure to it until we made Aliyah, and now its approach is easily recognizable by kids walking down the street, schlepping huge pieces of wood, old furniture, sticks, and anything else that burns.
Lag BaOmer is a break, a time out, a moment to recall an ancient plague that may or may not have occurred, and perhaps a moment for reflection.
The Hebrew letter equivalent of 33 is pronounced Lag (lamed gimel), giving rise to the name Lag BaOmer for this particular day. There is no one particular reason that this day stands out from the other 48 days counted between Pesach and Shavuot, yet many fascinating traditions surround the special nature of this day.
Driving across the Jezreel Valley these days, you can't miss the biblical echoes of the landscape. On Pesach we are to eat only cereal products made from the last year's harvest, baked with no leavening – and at the same time we are to clean out completely any remnants of any grain products from the old supply.
Combines many of the flavors and foods found in Spain and Portugal with the classic technique for making a bread kugel.
We who have become cynical,
Whom life has raised its tough first
Of despair and
Disappointment and heartache
We who have learned to protect our souls
And toughen our hearts
To avoid more anguish
There are many reasons to celebrate Tu BiSh’vat this year, as this has been an exciting year for environmental justice.
It was not until I joined my synagogue’s religious education committee that I learned that many American Jews do not celebrate Halloween. From the time I could trick-or-treat, I knew the basics of Halloween: There were witches and goblins, I went trick-or-treating and got candy, and later in life, we collected money for UNICEF. As far as I was concerned, religion had nothing to do with Halloween.