Let's make this Rosh Hashanah, and this Shmitah, the year when all of that changes. Let's get our institutions and portfolios to divest from Big Oil. Let's get our synagogues and communities to stand up for the Earth.
The Torah portions for this holiday tell the distinct tales of Abraham's two sons, Isaac and Ishmael. The texts themselves are simultaneously tragic and heroic. They raise hard-hitting ethical questions and uncomfortable dilemmas. In other words, they are real.
As an avid antique ring collector -- a theme which acts as a metaphor for various relationships in my memoir -- I immediately accepted the invitation to preview the 40 plus rings assembled together for the first time for public view and sale at Les Enluminures' New York gallery.
As I recited the final blessing my tears mixed with the living waters of the mikveh. I was overcome with the emotion of having reached this moment after months and months of anticipation, planning, and fear.
never felt more Jewish than when I intermarried. Suddenly, I was faced with the challenge of holding on to a faith I'd never fully identified with, for fear of losing it amid boisterous Christmas mornings or Easter feasts.
Could it be that Loehmann's has risen from the dead??
Cultural conditions are ripe for connection to shmita, which relates to food, economic justice and personal, as well as environmental, restoration.
I felt I owed it to my grandmother, for the privilege of being born safe and secure and loved. I felt I owed it to the children's faces that peered out of the photograph albums she has pieced together over the years; some who survived, many others who didn't.
Now that the dramatic loss of honeybees, monarch butterflies and other pollinators is making front-page news, dipping apples in honey takes on a whole new significance.
Imagine this: One instant ago, your body had weight and heat and heartbeat. And then, with one final long breath, all that is truly you rises like carbon bubbles of light, pressed to the ceiling.
It's almost Rosh Hashanah. The time has come for us to make some serious decisions about the future of our relationship with the planet this coming year. If we are truly to be a light unto the nations, then we can light the way towards cleaner sources of energy.
This weekend an A-List cast stars in the hilarious and touching movie, This Is Where I Leave You. It's based on the bestselling book by Jonathan Tropper about Shiva.
I look around at the congregation and see so many friends and familiar faces. My prayer book with my grandmother's inscription rests on my lap. I feel warm and connected. Hineni, I think, here I am.
My mother was a terrible cook, but she set a beautiful table. Every year at least a week before the Jewish holidays -- which, as she used to say, fell either too early or too late, but were never on time -- she'd get out her most favorite dishes.
French Jews certainly have had enough of all this. Are we still at home, they ask themselves, in this strange country where the vilest anti-Zionism, the stubbornest Holocaust denial, and the murkiest competition for victimhood are combining to produce a new and potentially devastating form of anti-Semitism?
As we head into the Jewish New Year, we take with us the challenges of an eventful summer punctuated by racial unrest. The death of Michael Brown, like that of Oscar Grant and Trayvon Martin before him, are tragedies that jolt us out of complacency.