Friday, May 22, 2015

The Company We Keep - Omer Day 49

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

We do not up the mountain alone.
We go together,
as a community.

Who sits beside us?
Who stands beside us?
Who walks with us?

Who holds us?

Beside whom do we sit?
Beside whom do we stand?
With whom do we walk?
Who do we hold?




We do not go up the mountain alone.
We go together,
as a community.

It is the only way to survive
revelation.
It is the only way to receive
revelation.
It is life.

We do not go up the mountain alone.
We go together,
as a community.

Today is Day 49, which is seven weeks of the Omer.
Today is Day 49, which is seven weeks of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Readying for the Third Day - Omer Day 48

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

Adonai said to Moses, "Go to the people and warn them to stay pure today and tomorrow. Let them wash their clothes. Let them be ready for the third day; for on the third day Adonai will come down, in the sight of all the people, on Mount Sinai. You shall set a boundary for the people round about, saying, 'Beware of going up the mountain or touching the border of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death; no hand shall touch that person, who shall be either stoned or shot; beast or person, that one shall not live.' When the ram's horn sounds a long blast, they may go up on the mountain." --Exodus 19:10-13 
Preparing to stand before G!d.
It takes time.
Starting that preparation on this day,
to be ready for the third day.
Keeping our hearts, minds, and bodies pure.
Practicing cleanliness.
We must do it correctly.
Going up on the mountain 
is fraught with danger.
If we go too soon, 
we may die.
If we wait too long, 
we will miss it.
We must get it just right.
We must be prepared.
Until now, we've been counting.
Now we must begin to prepare.
Let us breathe deeply.
Let us know that the soul
G!d has given us is pure.
Let us know that we are worthy.

It is time.

Today is Day 48, which is six weeks and six days of the Omer.
Today is Day 48, which is six weeks and six days of the journey from bondage to revelation.


Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Two Chairs - Omer Day 47

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

What is a chair?
Something quite different from two chairs.


Two chairs mean friendship.
Two chairs mean companionship.
Two chairs mean conversation.
Two chairs mean opening our hearts.
Two chairs mean opening our minds.
Two chairs mean relationship.

Two chairs are quite different
from one chair.

Today is Day 47, which is six weeks and five days of the Omer.
Today is Day 47, which is six weeks and five days of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Only One - Omer Day 46

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

One Earth.




One G!d.


Photo by Mary North Allen

One body.


Photo by Dan Goldner

One soul.



Photo by Mary North Allen

Only one of each.

I must treasure them,
Nurture our relationships.

Only one of each.
For me,
For you,
For each of us.

We must treasure them,
Nurture our relationships.

They are all we have.

Today is Day 46, which is six weeks and four days of the Omer.
Today is Day 46, which is six weeks and four days of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Monday, May 18, 2015

Monday - Omer Day 45

by Agi Mishol
Translated by Lisa Katz

So what did we have?
The sweet scent of jasmine,
the painted orange sun
discovered suddenly
while cutting the persimmon in half
at the first volley of light.
The chicory flowers'
morning blue,
the entire meadow,
a cluster of snails
on top of a sea onion stalk
and there was also the word "wagtail."
What else was there?
The cicada requiem,
pink sheep in the sloping sky,
and the soft, much-kissed down
on the bottom of the cat's ear
and that's it, I think
that's what we had
today.

Today is Day 45, which is six weeks and three days of the Omer.
Today is Day 45, which is six weeks and three days of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

JCAN Conference - Omer Day 44

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

Today, over 100 members of the Jewish community, from New Bedford, MA to Brattleboro, VT, gathered at Hebrew College in Newton, MA, for the first Jewish Climate Action Network conference, "From Uncertainty to Action: What You Can Do About Climate Change." According to Rabbi Arthur Waskow, it was the first conference of its kind, "I would have heard about it,"  he told us, if there had been another.

For four hours, we learned together, sang together, talked together, and connected to each other. And through all this, we were inspired, motivated, and recharged. It was an amazing afternoon. I am grateful to all those who helped make it happen, and to all those who took the time and energy to come. It was a vision fulfilled; it was a start, not and ending. It was a new beginning, of putting the Boston area Jewish community into the conversation about climate change.

As Jews, we are deeply rooted in Torah and in community. Today, we brought these together in the context of climate change.  The power of that connection was felt by every one present.

We will go forward from here, together. We will grow stronger. We will become more connected. We will build community. We will build enthusiasm and determination. We will weave networks of interdependence, caring, compassion, and trust. We will speak out. We will bring about change.

We will make a difference.
 

Today is Day 44, which is six weeks and three days of the Omer.
Today is Day 44, which is six weeks and three days of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Making Space - Omer Day 43

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

HaMakom - the space, the place; 
the Space, the Place, 
G!d.

We leave a city, a home, a job -
something must fill the space, 
the place, 
G!d.

What moves in?
Another city?
Another home?
Another job?


What fills the space?
What fills the place?
What fills...G!d???


Or is it G!d 
that fills us?

Do we let G!d 
fill the space?
Or do we fill it

with something
else?

We leave bondage.
What takes its place?
What fills its space?

What fills...G!d???

Freedom.
What is it?
In what kind of freedom

do we alight
and settle?

What does it take
for us to enter
a freedom
that leads us 
to revelation?

What does it take?

Today is Day 43, which is six weeks and one day of the Omer.
Today is Day 43, which is six weeks and one day of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Friday, May 15, 2015

Rainbow Day - Omer Day 42

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen
Photos by Gabi Mezger and Lisa B. Kaye

“I have set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between Me and the Earth.”  (Genesis 9:13)

Today, the 42nd day of the Omer, is Rainbow Day. This is the day, the 27th day of the second month of the year (considering the month of Nisan to be the first month), just before Noah and his family and all of the animals left the ark, on which they had ridden out the great flood, G!d made a promise never again to destroy the Earth, and the sign of the covenant is the arc across the sky. Today is a day to remember this covenant. And as we remember this covenant, we remember that this is the universal covenant, with all creatures upon the Earth.

by Gabi Mezger

by Gabi Mezger

by Gabi Mezger

by Gabi Mezger

by Gabi Mezger

by Gabi Mezger

by Gabi Mezger


by Lisa B. Kaye

As we celebrate Rainbow Day, consider your place in the covenant between G!d and all Creation.

Today is Day 42, which is six weeks of the Omer.
Today is Day 42, which is six weeks of the journey from bondage to revelation.


Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network



Thursday, May 14, 2015

Where Are We? Omer Day 41

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

It is the 26th day of the month of Iyyar. 

We are still wandering in the desert. 
Every day the manna comes down, and we eat, just the amount we need. 
Tomorrow, before Shabbat, enough will come for two days. 
We are not hungry. 
But we wonder. Where are we? Where are we going? 
Sometimes we feel G!d's presence with us. 
The feeling bonds us to each other. We feel strength and security and well-being.
Other times we feel abandoned. We wonder where G!d is. 
Some days we are so grateful to have left slavery. It is amazing to be free.
Other days we wonder if the uncertainty is worth it.

The desert is so dry, we question how we will survive. 
Yet water pours forth from the rocks!
Some days we ask so many questions.
Is there a place for us here? What will become of us? What does G!d want of us? 

Looking behind us, there is no sign of the sea.
Looking ahead, we can see mountains in the distance. 
Will we have to climb those rugged peaks? What lies on the other side?

At times we trust totally in G!d.
Other times we wonder. Where are we?
Where are we going?
What will become of us?
So many questions.
So few answers.
Yet...at times we understand faith, and trust, and hope.
Those are the days when we know we are not alone.
Those are the days we are glad to be alive.

Today is Day 41, which is five weeks and six days of the Omer.
Today is Day 41, which is five weeks and six days of the journey from bondage to revelation.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Peach Trees - Omer Day 40

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu, elohei Avraham....
Blessed are You, Lord our God, God of our ancestors, God of Abraham....

My teacher, Rabbi Shohama Weiner, instructed the class: “As you meditate on this prayer, focus on one of your ancestors, either familial or Biblical. Then wait and listen; you may receive a message from him or her.”

I focused on my father, at that time already gone for 27 years, who had been on my mind much of late. Thoughts of him filled my mind, and then, suddenly, powerfully, I felt a message coming from him, “Plant peach trees.”

Peach trees. Not a tree; trees.

Later, I told my teacher about it. “Perhaps they are figurative trees,” she suggested.

But I knew my father. He was a gardener—he’d planted a vineyard and a whole orchard of fruit trees on our rural home in southwestern Wisconsin. No, I knew, these were real trees.

It was November, and not tree-planting time, but the next month, I—far from the gardener my father had been—searched the Internet until I found a nursery that felt comfortable to me, and I ordered two dwarf peach trees, one Alberta and one Red Haven.

It was a long, snowy winter, but spring and my two little peach trees finally arrived. I planted them at the edge of the small meadow that rimmed our back yard. I put a concrete block near the two trees for a seat and in that spot I felt my father’s presence and I felt peace. All spring my father hovered in that space, and I often sat beside the trees to recite Mincha, the afternoon prayers.

When I told my mother about the fruit trees, she gave me a Chinese painting of peaches done by our long-time family friend and neighbor, Karl Lee. She also told me a story I didn't remember. When we had lived in Madison, my parents had a whole extra lot so that my father could have a large vegetable garden, and on that lot he had planted several fruit trees—including a peach tree, its origins lost now to memory, that had borne extra-delicious, sweet and juicy peaches. When my parents decided to move to the country, my father saved pits from the peaches of that tree. It was the only peach tree around, so, as my mother explained, it must have been self-pollinating and true-breeding. My father gave the pits cold treatment and then planted them in the greenhouse at the University, where he was on the faculty of the Botany Department. Once the trees became large enough, my father and Karl poured over garden catalogs, searching for the hardiest peach trees they could find, peach trees that would survive the harsh Wisconsin winters. They ordered the trees, and planted them. Once these commercial trees were well established, the two friends grafted branches that grew from the seeds of the tree in our yard onto the hardy trees they had ordered.


I began to try to connect my experience with peaches to Jewish texts and tradition. I searched and searched for something about afarsakimpeaches—that touched me, but in vain. Nothing spoke to me. I began to despair.

But as time went by, I began to think I was asking the wrong question. Maybe this wasn’t a story about peaches. Maybe this was a story about friendship.

I thought about my father. He was raised in poverty on a New England farm, the only one of six siblings to get a college education; he became a college professor and lived in an entirely different world than the rest of his family. His friend, Karl Lee, was born in China, became a leading member of the Third Party, and was forced to flee his native country after the revolution; he lived the remainder of his life in a foreign country. Both men loved the land. Karl, with his gardens, his chicken hutches, and his falcon pens, recreated a tiny corner of China on the Wisconsin landscape. I pictured the two of them, hunching over garden catalogs, grafting and planting peach trees, pruning the trees, and eventually harvesting plump tawny fruit. The earth brought them together, these two displaced persons, and nourished them. Friendship grew even as the trees grew.

This wasn’t about peach trees. It was about friendship. Friendship and healing, nourished by trees.
Etz chayim hei l’makazikim ba. It [the Torah] is a tree of life to those who hold fast to it.

Friendship. It flows now between my mother and I. But I was only 25 when my father died—too young for mature friendship. The message was to plant trees—one is not enough; two are needed for friendship.

My mentor, Sheila Goldberg, reminded me of the story of Honi. Honi, as an old man, planted a carob tree, not for himself, but for future generations.

My father grew trees and friendship with Karl Lee.

Now, I, too, have trees, and through them, I, too, have grown a friendship, with my father. The trees and the friendship are for me, but the fruits will only be fully appreciated in the next generation, for only by becoming friends with my father will I be able to be friends with my sons.

After many months, I received a translation of the Chinese words on Karl’s painting: "Paul, older brother, is deceased. Younger brother Ya and my wife Lan Sun, daughter Shi Ling , grandson Li Ming, granddaughter Li Ling, all together mourn. November, 1976.”

November 1976: that was when my father died. My father was the younger of the two men. I assumed that Karl meant his words as a sign of honor to my father.

I called my mother. She told me that Karl had painted this picture when my father died. At the memorial service, Karl’s painting stood in full view for all to see as they entered.

I was right. The peaches were about friendship.

The next spring, I discovered that one of my peach trees had not survived. The cold winter that year had killed it. But it was only the peach tree that died. I was fine. When the spring garden catalog arrived, I discovered a peach tree bred in New Hampshiresurely it would be hardy enough to survive in Massachusetts. I quickly ordered the tree and planted it, and in doing so I learned that the peach trees had done their work. My heart and my soul were in a different place.

My father and I were friends at last.

Today is Day 40, which is five weeks and five days of the Omer.
Today is Day 40, which is five weeks and five days of the journey from bondage to revelation.


"Peach Trees" is Excerpted from Loss and Transformation: One Woman's Journey Out of Grief to Opportunity, by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen, © Katy Z. Allen, 2015.

Rabbi Katy Allen is a board certified chaplain and serves as a Nature Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit. She is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long. She is a co-convener and coordinator of the Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network