Running toward the Holy One of Blessing
Halfway to Chicago, as I drove south on Interstate 90, I started to feel panicky. I had to get off the highway. I didn’t know why, but something pushed me to continue to my nephew’s home on local roads. I turned eastward on Illinois 173.
As I drove along straight, flat roads between cornfields of northern Illinois, I began to understand. I wasn’t running away from something, I was running toward something. I had felt it earlier in the week when I had taken my mother to her favorite Nature Conservancy site to nourish her spirit. The memory of that day came back – a need to reconnect to the wide open spaces of the Midwest, my childhood home, a connection I couldn’t make barreling along on the Interstate. Ideally, I needed to pedal or walk across the land, or to sleep beneath the wide open sky. But circumstances hadn’t allowed any of those, and this was the next best thing. As I drove along, something inside me slowly shifted into place. I felt more whole.
Later, I pondered the matter of fleeing from vs. running toward. From the outside, the actions may look the same, and often, as I did, we may feel some wordless need to get away without realizing that what we really need is to move toward something.
During Elul and the Days of Awe that follow, we are enjoined to do teshuvah, to return – to re-turn – to G!d. We are not told to run away from something – rather we are told to run toward the Holy One of Blessing, to move closer to G!d, to become more connected to our innermost selves, and through this process, on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, to find forgiveness. As we end this month of preparation, may we feel our eyes and our ears and our hearts opening to better understanding, better seeing, and better hearing that toward which we are turning.
Katy Z. Allen is the rabbi and spiritual leader of Ma'yan Tikvah.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Earth Etude for 25 Elul
The Edge Effect
In the Talmud the rabbis raise the question of what is meant by the statement found in the Mishnah “One who does a fixed prayer does not do prayer of supplication.” One explanation given is that our prayer lacks true supplication when it is not done “with the reddening of the sun.” While on one level the rabbis may be referring to the need for one to be earnest in one’s prayer in order for it to be supplicatory, there may be a deeper level to their words.
It seems that here the rabbis are also emphasizing the importance of being awake to the daily moments of transition, of remaining grounded in ourselves through the discomfort of not knowing what will come next and the fear of no longer being rooted to where we once were. Like the gradual shift as the sun reddens and night gives way to day, praying at this transitory time may be being offered as a daily practice for us to remain present, conscious, and grounded through life’s changes.
What is so special about praying at the border between dark and light? Evidence of the power of the edge between two things is visible every moment in our environment. The “edge effect” is found at the boundary between two ecological systems where we find the highest levels of synergism, biological activity and diversity.
May our prayers and introspections during this time of Elul be a gentle call to us to remain conscious through the challenge of transitions in our lives. As we spiritually prepare to for the High Holy Days, may we be lifted up by the incredible energy, synergy, and beauty of the in between places. And, during this auspicious period, may we embrace our time between boundaries, staring out over the edge of endless possibilities.
Adina Allen is a 4th year rabbinical student at Hebrew College and a current Wexner Fellow. She is an active urban homesteader, a certified yoga instructor, and an alum and current board member of Adamah: the Jewish Environmental Fellowship. Adina teaches and speaks about engaging the Jewish community in reimagining the world we want to live in by combining text study, innovative ritual practice, and sustainable living skill development.
In the Talmud the rabbis raise the question of what is meant by the statement found in the Mishnah “One who does a fixed prayer does not do prayer of supplication.” One explanation given is that our prayer lacks true supplication when it is not done “with the reddening of the sun.” While on one level the rabbis may be referring to the need for one to be earnest in one’s prayer in order for it to be supplicatory, there may be a deeper level to their words.
It seems that here the rabbis are also emphasizing the importance of being awake to the daily moments of transition, of remaining grounded in ourselves through the discomfort of not knowing what will come next and the fear of no longer being rooted to where we once were. Like the gradual shift as the sun reddens and night gives way to day, praying at this transitory time may be being offered as a daily practice for us to remain present, conscious, and grounded through life’s changes.
What is so special about praying at the border between dark and light? Evidence of the power of the edge between two things is visible every moment in our environment. The “edge effect” is found at the boundary between two ecological systems where we find the highest levels of synergism, biological activity and diversity.
May our prayers and introspections during this time of Elul be a gentle call to us to remain conscious through the challenge of transitions in our lives. As we spiritually prepare to for the High Holy Days, may we be lifted up by the incredible energy, synergy, and beauty of the in between places. And, during this auspicious period, may we embrace our time between boundaries, staring out over the edge of endless possibilities.
Adina Allen is a 4th year rabbinical student at Hebrew College and a current Wexner Fellow. She is an active urban homesteader, a certified yoga instructor, and an alum and current board member of Adamah: the Jewish Environmental Fellowship. Adina teaches and speaks about engaging the Jewish community in reimagining the world we want to live in by combining text study, innovative ritual practice, and sustainable living skill development.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Earth Etude for 24 Elul
Opening a Psalm
Consider the first part of Psalm 24. Notice the traditional parallelism wherein the second half of the verse repeating in new language the thought of the first half. Determine if this text from our tradition awakens the preparations of Elul for you.
Psalm 24
1. A Psalm of David....................Might this be a Psalm I could sing/write?
The earth is the Lord’s, and all that fills it;....Do my actions demonstrate this truth?
the world, and those who dwell in it. ...........I dwell on the earth; am I the Lord's?
2. For He has founded it upon the seas,........Do I act as if the Lord founded the earth?
and established it upon the rivers. ..............What is foundational about seas and rivers?
3. Who shall ascend into the mountain of the Lord?....Do I ask if I may ascend?
Who shall stand in His holy place?..................How would I describe "His holy place?"
4. The ones who have clean hands, and a pure heart;.............How is this true for me?
who have not taken My name in vain nor sworn deceitfully..Do I, can I, refrain from these?
5. They shall receive a blessing from the Lord,.........What blessing shall I receive?
and righteousness from the God of their salvation....Is God the god of my salvation?
6. This is the generation of those who seek him,........Of which generation am I a part?
who seek your face, O Jacob. Selah..............................How do I seek God's face?
A member of both the Rhode Island and Massachusetts Boards of Rabbis, Rabbi/Cantor Anne Heath (Academy for Jewish Religion-NYC 2007) is the spiritual leader of Congregation Agudath Achim and the Jewish Community House – a 100-year-old progressive, independent congregation in the heart of Taunton, Mass.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Earth Etude for 23 Elul
Choices
The other day I was flipping through a graphic design magazine that had made its way onto our dining room table. In between glossy advertisements for computer software, design contests & conferences, and showcasing new packaging designs, I saw an ad that caused me to stop and think.
It was a promotion to use more paper. The idea (stated more eloquently than I can remember) was that using paper creates a demand and a market that supports farmers to plant more trees and prevents them from having to sell their land for development.
At a time when a lot of attention is being given to food purchasing choices, and emphasis on buying locally, I think the strategy of encouraging people to consider their purchasing choice is on the mark.
On so many levels we can think about the impact of our buying. Vote with your dollars! As someone who regularly deliberates in the produce isle between the conventional local apples and the organic Chilean ones, I know there are no easy answers. There is no “right” product or market. Our actions have consequences for people we will never meet. As we prepare for Rosh Hashanah, and Yamim Noraim (Days of Awe), let’s consider our actions and the impact they have on others in deep and holistic ways. By pausing to think about our purchases, we offer respect to the individuals and resources that have made our choices possible.
- Leora Mallach recently co-launched Ganei Beantown: Beantown Jewish Gardens and has been amazed at the positive feedback and momentum! When not creating new paradigms in the Jewish community, she can be found doing batik artwork or coordinating Youth Conservation Corps programs for teens around Massachusetts.
The other day I was flipping through a graphic design magazine that had made its way onto our dining room table. In between glossy advertisements for computer software, design contests & conferences, and showcasing new packaging designs, I saw an ad that caused me to stop and think.
It was a promotion to use more paper. The idea (stated more eloquently than I can remember) was that using paper creates a demand and a market that supports farmers to plant more trees and prevents them from having to sell their land for development.
At a time when a lot of attention is being given to food purchasing choices, and emphasis on buying locally, I think the strategy of encouraging people to consider their purchasing choice is on the mark.
On so many levels we can think about the impact of our buying. Vote with your dollars! As someone who regularly deliberates in the produce isle between the conventional local apples and the organic Chilean ones, I know there are no easy answers. There is no “right” product or market. Our actions have consequences for people we will never meet. As we prepare for Rosh Hashanah, and Yamim Noraim (Days of Awe), let’s consider our actions and the impact they have on others in deep and holistic ways. By pausing to think about our purchases, we offer respect to the individuals and resources that have made our choices possible.
- Leora Mallach recently co-launched Ganei Beantown: Beantown Jewish Gardens and has been amazed at the positive feedback and momentum! When not creating new paradigms in the Jewish community, she can be found doing batik artwork or coordinating Youth Conservation Corps programs for teens around Massachusetts.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Earth Etude for 22 Elul
Elul Greetings
When I prepare to meet my Host in the fields
how will I greet the Holy One of Blessing?
Will I offer my Lord a calloused hand,
weathered from toil at the till of my soul?
Will my back be bent by ceaseless digging
into the soil of my character?
Will my gardens of responsibility
be weeded, pruned and watered to nurture
G-d’s beauty?
How can I let this privilege slip by unattended?
How can I not prepare my self, soul and earth
for this teshuvah,
the chance for reclaimed purity,
worthy of serving and joining my Creator?
Today I lift my till, hoe, and vessel with joy
to embark on my assigned clearing,
in the service of G-d.
Judith Feldstein is a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, a Certified Hypnotherapist, a Neurolinguistic Programmer, an Eriksonian Hypnosis practitioner, a Sacred Plant Medicine apprentice, and practices Sacred Circle Dance. She is also an Appalachian Mt. Club trail adopter, an Appalachian Mt. Club trail information volunteer, and enrolled in Rabbinical Seminary International. She is a hiker, walker, runner, student and teacher of A Course in Miracles, a student of Buddhism, a student of Gnosticism and mystic paths, an eldercare provider, a wife and a “mother” of several canine rescues (currently Shepherd and Neufy).
When I prepare to meet my Host in the fields
how will I greet the Holy One of Blessing?
Will I offer my Lord a calloused hand,
weathered from toil at the till of my soul?
Will my back be bent by ceaseless digging
into the soil of my character?
Will my gardens of responsibility
be weeded, pruned and watered to nurture
G-d’s beauty?
How can I let this privilege slip by unattended?
How can I not prepare my self, soul and earth
for this teshuvah,
the chance for reclaimed purity,
worthy of serving and joining my Creator?
Today I lift my till, hoe, and vessel with joy
to embark on my assigned clearing,
in the service of G-d.
Judith Feldstein is a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, a Certified Hypnotherapist, a Neurolinguistic Programmer, an Eriksonian Hypnosis practitioner, a Sacred Plant Medicine apprentice, and practices Sacred Circle Dance. She is also an Appalachian Mt. Club trail adopter, an Appalachian Mt. Club trail information volunteer, and enrolled in Rabbinical Seminary International. She is a hiker, walker, runner, student and teacher of A Course in Miracles, a student of Buddhism, a student of Gnosticism and mystic paths, an eldercare provider, a wife and a “mother” of several canine rescues (currently Shepherd and Neufy).
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Earth Etude for 21 Elul
The Many Shades of Green
It is forbidden to live in a town that does not have a green garden.
(Jerusalem Talmud, Kiddushin 4:12)
Funny how cities, the predominant sign of societal progress, are largely overgrown with concrete, glass and stone. Not so in Ireland where I recently spent my summer vacation.
The greens of Ireland come in all different shades, visually and symbolically. Spanning every rugged hillside, they range from deep dark evergreen to lemony moss. To top off the greens, the verdant landscape is peppered with an endless variety of wild flowers. Even in the cities, of which there are relatively few, gardens, parks and flower tiers are found at every turn.
I was also struck by the cleanliness. In the city streets, gardens dominate over graffiti. R ecycling depositories are prominent in every town and village. SUV's are noticeably absent, and destinations of choice are often Garden Centers and Natural Heritage Parks.
My summer reading included Bill McKibbon’s Eaarth, {Earth with one “a,” according to Mc¬Kibben, no longer exists. We have carbonized it out of existence} I have become highly sensitized to the environmental hazards threatening our petro guzzling world. Coming from Metropolitan New York, where suburbia consists of town upon town, connected by strip mall after strip mall, and a Super Mega Mall for accent, I was presented with quite a contrast in Ireland. Instead of town after town, it was green after green, with an occasional village between. There wasn’t a Mall or bill board for hundreds of miles in any direction. For that matter, there weren't many roads wider than a truck width either. Smokestacks and pollution do not mar the horizon. On the other hand, Wind Turbines are making such a noticeable appearance that, ironically, there are those who are concerned that these new clean energy machines may themselves become an eye-soar to this natural green paradise.
Build yourselves houses and dwell in them, plant gardens and eat the fruit of them.
(Jeremiah 29:5)
From Ireland I went to Israel. Quite a contrast! Green is not the dominant color of Israel.
At first I was disheartened by the many ways in which Israel has yet to go green. Plastic is everywhere, littering streets and open spaces. Recycling exists but is lax. Pollutant standards are embarrassingly low.
The dominant color is tan to brown to concrete gray. Until one takes a closer look.
North of the Negev, forests have revitalized the hillsides devastated during the years of Roman occupation. In the South, the desert presents its sandy border … but, lo and behold, it is in bloom!
Dunes have made way to thriving hothouses filled with bell peppers, cucs, tomatoes and eggplant. I was fortunate to take a tour of organic hothouses plunked down on vast stretches of tan. Agricultural high tech masterpieces, these acres and acres of hothouses yield produce almost year round with their state-of-the-art computerized drip irrigation, fertilization, and temperature mediation systems.
Just as impressive are the recycled water treatment plants imbedded into the landscape. A significant percentage of sewage water in Israel is treated through a stringent process of detoxification, and then recycled for agricultural watering purposes.
Israel is not as naturally blessed as Ireland when it comes to precipitation, which explains it's less than green out look. But the net effect of this condition is Israel's successful reliance on creative innovation to develop greenery through a unique synthesis of hi-tech agricultural invention, and sacred spiritual intention. The latter is expressed through our daily prayers for rain, in acknowledging the Grand Creator:
Mashiv ha’ruach u-moreed ha’gamshem … Who makes the winds blow and brings forth the rains
Moreed haTal … who settles the dew upon the earth
My two summer destinations provided insights on the many shades of green. If we can color some of our global environmental issues with the innate greenery of Ireland and the innovative green of Israel, perhaps we will be able to live up to the dictum of the Rabbis … that long into the future, we will continue to be able to live in cities blessed with gardens, in many shades of green.
Suri Levow Krieger is the Rabbi of Kerhonkson Synagogue, in upstate New York, and Chavurat Bet Chai in Westchester, NY. She also teaches at University of Bridgeport and Sacred heart University. Her mission includes building bridges between communities and peoples of different faiths by learning, singing and doing together. It includes pushing the creative Jewish envelop, fostering alternative liturgy with spiritual resonance, challenging the traditional text until it yields current meaning, and working proactively towards tikun olam.
It is forbidden to live in a town that does not have a green garden.
(Jerusalem Talmud, Kiddushin 4:12)
Funny how cities, the predominant sign of societal progress, are largely overgrown with concrete, glass and stone. Not so in Ireland where I recently spent my summer vacation.
The greens of Ireland come in all different shades, visually and symbolically. Spanning every rugged hillside, they range from deep dark evergreen to lemony moss. To top off the greens, the verdant landscape is peppered with an endless variety of wild flowers. Even in the cities, of which there are relatively few, gardens, parks and flower tiers are found at every turn.
I was also struck by the cleanliness. In the city streets, gardens dominate over graffiti. R ecycling depositories are prominent in every town and village. SUV's are noticeably absent, and destinations of choice are often Garden Centers and Natural Heritage Parks.
My summer reading included Bill McKibbon’s Eaarth, {Earth with one “a,” according to Mc¬Kibben, no longer exists. We have carbonized it out of existence} I have become highly sensitized to the environmental hazards threatening our petro guzzling world. Coming from Metropolitan New York, where suburbia consists of town upon town, connected by strip mall after strip mall, and a Super Mega Mall for accent, I was presented with quite a contrast in Ireland. Instead of town after town, it was green after green, with an occasional village between. There wasn’t a Mall or bill board for hundreds of miles in any direction. For that matter, there weren't many roads wider than a truck width either. Smokestacks and pollution do not mar the horizon. On the other hand, Wind Turbines are making such a noticeable appearance that, ironically, there are those who are concerned that these new clean energy machines may themselves become an eye-soar to this natural green paradise.
Build yourselves houses and dwell in them, plant gardens and eat the fruit of them.
(Jeremiah 29:5)
From Ireland I went to Israel. Quite a contrast! Green is not the dominant color of Israel.
At first I was disheartened by the many ways in which Israel has yet to go green. Plastic is everywhere, littering streets and open spaces. Recycling exists but is lax. Pollutant standards are embarrassingly low.
The dominant color is tan to brown to concrete gray. Until one takes a closer look.
North of the Negev, forests have revitalized the hillsides devastated during the years of Roman occupation. In the South, the desert presents its sandy border … but, lo and behold, it is in bloom!
Dunes have made way to thriving hothouses filled with bell peppers, cucs, tomatoes and eggplant. I was fortunate to take a tour of organic hothouses plunked down on vast stretches of tan. Agricultural high tech masterpieces, these acres and acres of hothouses yield produce almost year round with their state-of-the-art computerized drip irrigation, fertilization, and temperature mediation systems.
Just as impressive are the recycled water treatment plants imbedded into the landscape. A significant percentage of sewage water in Israel is treated through a stringent process of detoxification, and then recycled for agricultural watering purposes.
Israel is not as naturally blessed as Ireland when it comes to precipitation, which explains it's less than green out look. But the net effect of this condition is Israel's successful reliance on creative innovation to develop greenery through a unique synthesis of hi-tech agricultural invention, and sacred spiritual intention. The latter is expressed through our daily prayers for rain, in acknowledging the Grand Creator:
Mashiv ha’ruach u-moreed ha’gamshem … Who makes the winds blow and brings forth the rains
Moreed haTal … who settles the dew upon the earth
My two summer destinations provided insights on the many shades of green. If we can color some of our global environmental issues with the innate greenery of Ireland and the innovative green of Israel, perhaps we will be able to live up to the dictum of the Rabbis … that long into the future, we will continue to be able to live in cities blessed with gardens, in many shades of green.
Suri Levow Krieger is the Rabbi of Kerhonkson Synagogue, in upstate New York, and Chavurat Bet Chai in Westchester, NY. She also teaches at University of Bridgeport and Sacred heart University. Her mission includes building bridges between communities and peoples of different faiths by learning, singing and doing together. It includes pushing the creative Jewish envelop, fostering alternative liturgy with spiritual resonance, challenging the traditional text until it yields current meaning, and working proactively towards tikun olam.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Earth Etude for 20 Elul
Gratitude
Gratitude. Gratitude was where this amazing woman had landed three days after learning her cancer had spread throughout her body and nothing more could be done. Gratitude – not fleeting, as she had experienced it previously, but minute-by-minute gratitude for all the goodness in her life. Gratitude with full awareness of all the difficulties.
I had gone for an early morning walk. When I reached the open meadow of the conservation area and the dew on the spider webs caught my eye, I felt it – gratitude. I thought of the words Jewish tradition teaches us to say first thing in the morning: Modah/eh ani lifanechah – I give thanks before You… What a powerful way to begin the day!
Jewish tradition also requires us to say 100 blessings a day, to praise G!d 100 times every day. Through recitation of the thrice daily prayer services, blessings before and after eating and after using the bathroom, one can easily accomplish this goal. But what if, instead, we were to say a blessing at regular intervals throughout the day. In 24 hours, that‘s a blessing about every 15 minutes. But most of us are not awake 24 hours a day (Thankfully!). Doing a little more math, if I sleep 8 hours (for which I am grateful) that leaves 16 hours, or 960 minutes. 960 ÷ 100 = 9.6. If I say a blessing every 9.6 minutes during 16 waking hours, I will say 100 blessings a day.
That is almost constant praise and blessing for the gifts bestowed by G!d - close to constant gratitude.
What would take for me to come close enough to G!d to feel constant gratitude? Must I be dying? I certainly hope not!
May this month of Elul, of closing in on the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe, bring us all closer to a constant sense of gratitude.
Katy Z. Allen is the rabbi and spiritual leader of Ma'yan Tikvah.
Gratitude. Gratitude was where this amazing woman had landed three days after learning her cancer had spread throughout her body and nothing more could be done. Gratitude – not fleeting, as she had experienced it previously, but minute-by-minute gratitude for all the goodness in her life. Gratitude with full awareness of all the difficulties.
I had gone for an early morning walk. When I reached the open meadow of the conservation area and the dew on the spider webs caught my eye, I felt it – gratitude. I thought of the words Jewish tradition teaches us to say first thing in the morning: Modah/eh ani lifanechah – I give thanks before You… What a powerful way to begin the day!
Jewish tradition also requires us to say 100 blessings a day, to praise G!d 100 times every day. Through recitation of the thrice daily prayer services, blessings before and after eating and after using the bathroom, one can easily accomplish this goal. But what if, instead, we were to say a blessing at regular intervals throughout the day. In 24 hours, that‘s a blessing about every 15 minutes. But most of us are not awake 24 hours a day (Thankfully!). Doing a little more math, if I sleep 8 hours (for which I am grateful) that leaves 16 hours, or 960 minutes. 960 ÷ 100 = 9.6. If I say a blessing every 9.6 minutes during 16 waking hours, I will say 100 blessings a day.
That is almost constant praise and blessing for the gifts bestowed by G!d - close to constant gratitude.
What would take for me to come close enough to G!d to feel constant gratitude? Must I be dying? I certainly hope not!
May this month of Elul, of closing in on the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe, bring us all closer to a constant sense of gratitude.
Katy Z. Allen is the rabbi and spiritual leader of Ma'yan Tikvah.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Earth Etude for 18 Elul
Plastics & fruit
I’ve decided to decrease my exposure to plastics, and increase my consumption of fruit. But what’s the link between them? During Elul, we can turn, as always, to the Torah for guidance on the thoughtful use of each of these earthly components. Plastics are petroleum-based, carbon-intensive, and contain harmful chemicals. Fruits are loaded with healthful vitamins, minerals, fiber and antioxidants. And we should waste neither. “Fill the world and capture it” is G-d’s instruction in Genesis 1:28. Genesis 2:15 then cautions that we are to “work it and guard it.” Therefore, the world is ours to use, but we must use it wisely.
Deuteronomy 20:19-20 is often cited by those of us with environmental leanings. If a city is invaded, the army cannot cut down useful fruit trees as battering rams. But if the tree is damaging other trees, it can be felled. Thought should go into the use of everything on our planet, and into destruction and disposal as well. This is the essence of Bal Tashchit, a mitzvah our sages referred to regarding these Torah principles on avoiding wastefulness.
I hope that during Elul and beyond, more people will, along with me,we will all mindfully preserve. We can use cloth bags. Fill jars with filtered water. Re-use cosmetic glass bottles for toiletries. Bring toothbrushes, light bulbs, plastic bags and wine corks to Whole Foods’ specialized recycling containers. Carry your paper and plastics around with you, until you we arrive at your known recycling places. Buy in bulk. Reduce – reuse. Our sages would have it no less.
Susie Davidson, a local journalist, is the Coordinator of the Boston chapter of the Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life (COEJL).
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Earth Etude for 17 Elul
Shehechiyanu moments
Given the choice, I would much rather commune with God through nature as I walk in the woods or meditate next to a natural body of water, than inside a synagogue turning the pages of a prayer book. Whenever I’m outside, be it on a walk, riding a bike, or even driving a car, my observations sometimes appear as a magnificent sunrise or sunset, as a raptor gliding effortlessly above the ground circling for its next meal, or as a herd of deer standing majestically in a field by the side of the road. These are my “Shehechiyanu moments,” when I am grateful for the present and the gift of life bestowed upon me.
During the month of Elul, as we approach the New Year, I never cease to be amazed by our ancient ancestors who developed a remarkably complex set of calculations used to create our unique calendar. Their ability to ascertain precise dates within our calendar, based purely upon decades of lunar observations and seasonal changes, is nothing short of miraculous. In a cosmos over which they had no control, paying attention to patterns of heat and cold, light and dark, rain and drought was literally a matter of survival.
The rabbis teach that this month should be a time of introspection and mentally mapping a course of self-improvement for the coming year. So, I will think about the most precious and important aspects of my personal life: my wife, my children and my grandchildren. If I can continue to improve upon being a better husband, father and grandfather, then I will be blessed with riches well beyond material wealth. I will continue to try to teach my grandchildren, the importance of acts of kindness, respect of others and helping those less fortunate, and respect for all living creatures. I will try to emphasize not just the awesome mysteries of nature and our universe, but how fragile the balance between human and nature can be. Hopefully, they will grow into adulthood with the knowledge and appreciation of what God has given us and the desire to protect and preserve our planet for their descendants.
- Joel Feinberg is a husband to Marilyn for over 43 years. He is a father of a son (Eric) and a daughter (Heather) both of whom reside with their respective families in Chicago, and grandfather to Talia (6), Ava (4) and Asher (17 mos.) He is trying to retire, but still working as an entrepreneur in his own business. Avid sports fan, bike rider and cook.
Given the choice, I would much rather commune with God through nature as I walk in the woods or meditate next to a natural body of water, than inside a synagogue turning the pages of a prayer book. Whenever I’m outside, be it on a walk, riding a bike, or even driving a car, my observations sometimes appear as a magnificent sunrise or sunset, as a raptor gliding effortlessly above the ground circling for its next meal, or as a herd of deer standing majestically in a field by the side of the road. These are my “Shehechiyanu moments,” when I am grateful for the present and the gift of life bestowed upon me.
During the month of Elul, as we approach the New Year, I never cease to be amazed by our ancient ancestors who developed a remarkably complex set of calculations used to create our unique calendar. Their ability to ascertain precise dates within our calendar, based purely upon decades of lunar observations and seasonal changes, is nothing short of miraculous. In a cosmos over which they had no control, paying attention to patterns of heat and cold, light and dark, rain and drought was literally a matter of survival.
The rabbis teach that this month should be a time of introspection and mentally mapping a course of self-improvement for the coming year. So, I will think about the most precious and important aspects of my personal life: my wife, my children and my grandchildren. If I can continue to improve upon being a better husband, father and grandfather, then I will be blessed with riches well beyond material wealth. I will continue to try to teach my grandchildren, the importance of acts of kindness, respect of others and helping those less fortunate, and respect for all living creatures. I will try to emphasize not just the awesome mysteries of nature and our universe, but how fragile the balance between human and nature can be. Hopefully, they will grow into adulthood with the knowledge and appreciation of what God has given us and the desire to protect and preserve our planet for their descendants.
- Joel Feinberg is a husband to Marilyn for over 43 years. He is a father of a son (Eric) and a daughter (Heather) both of whom reside with their respective families in Chicago, and grandfather to Talia (6), Ava (4) and Asher (17 mos.) He is trying to retire, but still working as an entrepreneur in his own business. Avid sports fan, bike rider and cook.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Earth Etude for 16 Elul
The Sound of the Shofar
Elul is the month of return when we gather our thoughts and think about what we did during the past year and how we can do better in the coming year. Many years ago, I went to Mexico City and when I first landed there, I immediately noticed the difference in air quality. In fact, it was so bad that when I got off the plane, there was a stinging sensation in my lungs. As well, when I lived in Los Angeles as a college student one summer, I remembered that they had smog alerts during the days that would be especially cloudy when the air quality would be very poor due to a combination of smoke and fog.
One week this summer, it was very rainy all week. I had picked up a cold and it settled in my chest. The dampness due to the extreme rain that we had got into my lungs and made it difficult to breathe. I have an 80-year-old friend who has COPD. She said I sounded just like her. She also told me that many older people in her building go around with oxygen tanks, particularly during rainy days when the air is bad. It makes me sad that the quality of our air is deteriorating and that few people are talking about it. What are we doing to our planet? Are we poisoning ourselves slowly and can we ultimately survive this process of gradual deterioration of our air quality? What kind of a world do we want to live in? The sound of the shofar reminds us to wake up before it's too late.
Joel Richard Davidson is a self-employed private attorney practicing social security, real estate and estate law in Quincy, Massachusetts. Joel also serves as organist for St. Brendan Church in Dorchester, Massachusetts and is taking courses towards his Certificate in Jewish Liturgical Music at Hebrew College. He serves as Cantor for the High Holidays at Congregation Keshet Yam in Manchester by the Sea, Manchester, Massachusetts under the direction of Rabbi Judith Epstein.
Elul is the month of return when we gather our thoughts and think about what we did during the past year and how we can do better in the coming year. Many years ago, I went to Mexico City and when I first landed there, I immediately noticed the difference in air quality. In fact, it was so bad that when I got off the plane, there was a stinging sensation in my lungs. As well, when I lived in Los Angeles as a college student one summer, I remembered that they had smog alerts during the days that would be especially cloudy when the air quality would be very poor due to a combination of smoke and fog.
One week this summer, it was very rainy all week. I had picked up a cold and it settled in my chest. The dampness due to the extreme rain that we had got into my lungs and made it difficult to breathe. I have an 80-year-old friend who has COPD. She said I sounded just like her. She also told me that many older people in her building go around with oxygen tanks, particularly during rainy days when the air is bad. It makes me sad that the quality of our air is deteriorating and that few people are talking about it. What are we doing to our planet? Are we poisoning ourselves slowly and can we ultimately survive this process of gradual deterioration of our air quality? What kind of a world do we want to live in? The sound of the shofar reminds us to wake up before it's too late.
Joel Richard Davidson is a self-employed private attorney practicing social security, real estate and estate law in Quincy, Massachusetts. Joel also serves as organist for St. Brendan Church in Dorchester, Massachusetts and is taking courses towards his Certificate in Jewish Liturgical Music at Hebrew College. He serves as Cantor for the High Holidays at Congregation Keshet Yam in Manchester by the Sea, Manchester, Massachusetts under the direction of Rabbi Judith Epstein.
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