I write to you from Jerusalem, where I just returned from Mt. Herzl, Israel’s military cemetery.
I write to you from Jerusalem, where I just returned from Mt. Herzl, Israel’s military cemetery.
Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day is a modern holiday, 76-years-old. We mark our biblical and rabbinic festivals by adding liturgy in our daily services. The Rabbis ask, “Should we recite Hallel, Psalms of praise on Yom Ha’atzmaut?”
I recently took a look back at my Jewish upbringing and asked myself, “Who did you grow up around?”
I am a Columbia University alum. From 2000-2004, I studied music. Those four years were instrumental in the work I do as a Rabbi today, using music as a tool for engaging communities in Jewish life.
On Sunday evening, we will search for the chametz in our homes. Over the past year, the chametz accumulated in places we know and places we do not know. We recite the declaration to nullify all that chametz that we see and all chametz that we do not see. We take one step further on the morning of the Seder and we burn the chametz to ensure it is not in our sight.
As a sixth grader at a Jewish day school, the Rabbi assigned me my first d’var Torah; Parshas Tazria. I had to find meaning in leprosy. Year after year when this parsha returns, I still tremble to find meaning in leprosy. Yet, we must look beyond a rash on the arm, and recognize that the Torah explains leprosy also appeared on the clothing and the homes of the afflicted.
The Torah can be divided into two parts. The Rabbis teach, dorosh dorash Moshe, the first half of the Torah is Moses asking questions. That is the essence of Jewish education-asking questions, and that is the crux of our Pesach Seder. The Rabbis explain the second part of the Torah is vayishma Moshe, Moses listened and learned.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel was asked during the Six Day War, “Why are you so dreadfully desperate?” His answer: “Imagine that in the entire world there remains one copy of the Bible and suddenly I see a brutal hand seize this copy, the only one in the world, and prepare to cast in in flames….”
Four years ago, the world shut down. I remember during the Seder that year, there was a global call to open our doors and windows and sing Eliyahu Hanavi, welcoming the prophet into our Passover in hope for a time of redemption.
Betsalel is the architect of the mishkan, the Tabernacle. Yet, what was unique about Betsalel is not how he built the structure, but rather, how the structure was built.