Teaching young children has always been a joy for me. One of teaching's special advantages is the clarity that emerges from conversation with people under the age of ten.
Every human being following Adam and Eve has had this experience, yet none of us can ever recall what it felt like. I refer to the first event in our lives—our birth.
Did you ever sing in a choir? If you did, you will easily be able to appreciate what I am about to describe.
I couldn't believe it. One of my trusted old reference books failed me for the first time.
For the past several weeks, this column has addressed a challenge that we all face during Passover, Pesach, which is now barely two months away. The challenge is posed in a passage in the Haggadah, which ultimately derives from a Mishna in the tractate of Pesachim. The text reads, "In each and every generation, one is obligated to see himself, lir'ot et atzmo, as if he had personally left Egypt."
Our tradition teaches us to avoid using the divine name. We are instructed not to pronounce it in vain, and not to refer to it directly in writing. Some permit the name to be spelled out in languages other than Hebrew, whereas I personally follow the stricter opinion and use other terms to designate the deity.
I have been asked questions about my Jewish faith since I was a very young boy. Back then, it was the tow-headed children of the Irish family in whose large summer home we spent our summers who pestered me with questions about the yarmulke on my head and the tzitzit dangling from underneath my shirt . Later, the questions were addressed to me by college classmates, mostly non-Jewish, but sometimes Jews who had little knowledge of our mutual religion and its beliefs and practices.
Our tradition teaches us to avoid using the divine name. We are instructed not to pronounce it in vain, and not to refer to it directly in writing. Some permit the name to be spelled out in languages other than Hebrew, whereas I personally follow the stricter opinion and use other terms to designate the deity.
Sometimes we feel inspired. We may be working hard, but we don’t seem to mind, because we love the work we are doing and believe in it.
Sometimes we feel inspired. We may be working hard, but we don’t seem to mind, because we love the work we are doing and believe in it.
This week's column follows up a thought that I shared with you last week. I suggested that one of our most difficult religious tasks is to "see ourselves as if we had personally left Egypt." I stated that it required a skill of imagination which most of us lack.
“They don't make them the way they used to.” We have all heard this comment with reference to all sorts of things. Despite all the technological advances from which we benefit, we often are convinced that certain things were of superior quality in the old days.
There was a time in my life when I was fascinated by the works of the great psychoanalytic thinkers. Chief among them, of course, was Sigmund Freud, whose attitude towards his Jewish origins piqued my curiosity.
Over the course of the past several years, we have had some marvelous opportunities to visit places where I had once lived. My wife and I had moved away from some of these communities ten or twenty years ago, and in one case, forty years ago.
Over the course of the past several years, we have had some marvelous opportunities to visit places where I had once lived. My wife and I had moved away from some of these communities ten or twenty years ago, and in one case, forty years ago.
Each parsha, for the next many Shabbatot, provides us with a not-to-be-missed opportunity to prepare ourselves, intellectually and spiritually, for the wonderful holiday which lies ahead.
Can you sleep at night? There is so much trouble in the world. Violence, wars large and small, natural disasters, disease. We all personally know many who are suffering at this very moment.
I was always taught of the advantage of simplicity in language. My favorite author during my adolescence was Ernest Hemingway, and I remember reading comments that he made criticizing those who used multi-syllable words when shorter words would suffice.
I often find myself disagreeing with the phrase, "It's just a footnote in history". I have found some of the most interesting and important facts buried, unseen by most people, in the footnotes of the books I read.
Can you sleep at night? There is so much trouble in the world. Violence, wars large and small, natural disasters, disease. We all personally know many who are suffering at this very moment. Some are friends and acquaintances living in plain sight. Others are individuals in the media, people whose pain we see portrayed daily on the evening news.