I find it hard to look at human suffering and see no-suffering. I find it hard to look at human faces and see no-faces. It’s not that, deep down, I feel we have any independent existence from God. It’s that I think we’re not supposed to see it that way.
Not even trying to hide it, they both gaped in our direction with an enormously puzzled look on their faces. I saw the rest of this blog post coming: ‘Can I ask you a question? Do you know what you’re wearing on your head?’
One Hebrew year ago, my neshama came home. In gratitude, I mark the anniversary of my mikveh day–the day I officially joined the Jewish people.
The Omer countdown from Pesach to Shavuot anticipates the celebration of receiving the Torah at Sinai and honors unhappier moments in Jewish history. Last year I ignored it. This year, I threw out my razor.
Honest Reform Jews struggle to determine whether they feel commanded to respond to individual mitzvot. Sometimes they arrive at controversial conclusions. That’s how I started wearing tzitzit.
Happy Chanukah to all my readers! The festival of lights is a good time to remember our Jewish holidays are for everyone. So even if you’re over 12, light that chanukiyah with pride. All eight nights.
When the b’nai mitzvah crowds elbow regular synagogue members out of the sanctuary, whose Shabbos is it, anyway?
In theory, Reform Jews can follow any commandment by which they feel moved. But some traditional practices move few Reform Jews. Praying every morning with tefillin is usually one of those practices. Here’s why it moves me–and why that’s just fine.
My mikveh day was amazing and surprising in ways I’ll never forget. It changed me forever–but it took me all day to figure out just how. Here is my epic look at the day I officially joined the Jewish people.
I’m ready. The date is set. Thirty days from today I’ll be a Jew. Here’s a look at the rituals I’ll undergo on May 12th to make my conversion journey to join the Jewish people official.