Can you find all of the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur vocabulary words?

Challenge yourself with Hebrew Sudoku!

Challenge yourself with Hebrew Sudoku

from September 2011..

Happy Fall Dear Friends and Family!

This summer has been all about meeting my boundaries and exploring beyond .  I give it a top 10 for the richness of feelings and growth.  I’m thinking that the poet who wrote  אלו פינו מלא שירה כים  Ilu finu malei shira kayam…

Even if our mouths were full of song as the sea
and our lips full of praise as wide as they sky’s expanse
and were our eyes to give off light like sun and moon
We could never thank You or acknolwedge You enough, Source of Life." (see below for full exerpt)

probably visited the places I traveled to this summer: the mountains of Alaska, the seas of the Carribean, the woods of Michigan, the rivers of North Carolina.  Every day I found myself at the very edge of my capabilities, a choice to be made – tiptoe/crash forward or smile a greeting to myself and sit quietly with me.   Every day was a journey of self-discovery.

And now the Hebrew month of Elul is upon us, 30 days that lead up to the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashana, and the Jewish day of at-One-ment, Yom Kippur.  This is our very special opportunity, as we prepare for these Highest of Holidays to check in with ourselves.  To re-meet, re-align and to work towards wellness for ourselves and our community.

As we work towards closeness with ourseves over these next few weeks, I want to offer you a few tools.

In Aramaic, the word "Elul" means search.  The Talmud writes that the Hebrew word "Elul" can be expanded as an acronym for " אני לדודי ודודי לי  Ani L’dodi V’dodi Li" – "I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine". Elul is a time to search one’s heart and draw close to our self and to our Source.  No doubt, for each person this could mean many  different things.  For me, it all begins with choosing to be friends with myself, with my insides, my outsides, my demons, my dark and my light.  This summer I spent my days in the expanse of creation and I could not help but realize that it was me.  That I am a reflection of this expanse and that I am very very big, whether a speck of dust or the shining rays of the midnight sun .  So this year as I prepare my heart for the Big Check In, I will not limit myself with the distraction of what I am not, but rather reflect, search and honor what I am.

Shana Tovah uM’tukah, Wishing You a Sweet and Happy New Year!

"Nishmat is considered one of the masterpieces of Jewish liturgy. It is seen as a journey of self-discovery, describing G-d as a source of prayer… In this prayer, the word Nishmat (breath) that begins the prayer is related to the word neshama (soul), suggesting that the soul is part of the breath of all life." (from Wikipedia)

Excerpt from the Nishmat prayer in the Shabbat morning service…

Even if our mouths were full of song as the sea,
and our tongues full of joy in countless waves,
and our lips full of praise as wide as they sky’s expanse,
and were our eyes to give off light like sun and moon:
if our hands were spread out like heaven’s eagles
and our feet swift like young dear,
we could never thank You and acknowledge You enough, Source of Life.
(translation based on Mishkan Tefilah)

Told by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, The Book of Miracles, Jewish Lights Publishing

“The following story is told to me by my teacher, Rabbi Zalman Schachter Shalomi.”

A long time ago in the northern part of Israel, in the town of Tsefat, the richest man in town was sleeping, as usual, through Shabbat morning services.  Every now and then, he would almost wake up, trying to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench, and then sink back into a deep sleep.  One morning he awoke just long enough to hear the chanting of the Torah verses from Leviticus 24:5-6 in which God instructs the children of Israel to place twelve loaves of challah on a table in the ancient wilderness tabernacle.

When services ended, the wealthy man woke up, not realizing that all he had heard was the Torah reading about how God wanted twelve loaves of challah.  HE thought that God had come to him in his sleep and had asked him to personally bring twelve loaves of challah to God.  The rich man felt honored that God should single him out, but he also felt a little foolish.  Of all the things God could want form a person, twelve loaves of challah did not seem very important.  But who was he to argue with God.  HE went home and baked the bread.

Upon returning to the synagogue, he decided the only proper place for his holy gift was alongside the Torah scrolls in the ark.  He carefully arranged the loaves and said to God, “Thank You for telling me what You want of me.  Pleasing you makes me very happy.”  Then he left.

No sooner had he gone than the poorest Jew in the town, the synagogue janitor, entered the sanctuary.  All alone, he spoke to God. “O Lord, I am so poor.  My family is starving; we have nothing to eat.  Unless you perform a miracle for us, we will surely perish.”  Then, as was his custom, he walked around the room to tidy it up.  When he ascended the bimah and opened the ark, there before him were twelve loaves of challah!  “A miracle!” exclaimed the poor man, “I had no idea You worked so quickly!  Blessed are You, O God, who answers our prayers.”  Then he ran home to share the bread with his family.

Minutes later, the rich man returned to the sanctuary, curious to know whether or not God ate the challah.  Slowly he ascended the bimah, opened the ark, and saw that the challot were gone.  “Oh, my God!”  He shouted, “You really ate my challot!  I thought You were teasing.  This is wonderful.  You can be sure that I’ll bring another twelve loaves – with raisins in them too!”

The following week, the rich man brought a dozen loaves to the synagogue and again left them in the ark.  Minutes later, the poor man entered the sanctuary.  “God, Seven loaves we ate, four we sold, and one we gave to charity.  But now, nothing is left and, unless You do another miracle, we surely will starve.”  He approached the ark and slowly opened its doors.  “Another miracle!” he cried, “Twelve more loaves, and with raisins too!  Thank you God; this is wonderful!”

The challah exchange became a weekly ritual that continued for many years.  And, like most rituals that become routine, neither man gave it much thought.  Then, one day, the Rabbi, detained in the sanctuary longer than usual, watched the rich man place the dozen loaves in the ark and the poor man redeem them.

The Rabbi called the two men together and told them what they had been doing.

“I see,” said the rich man sadly, “God doesn’t really eat challah.”

“I understand,” said the poor man, “God hasn’t been baking challah for me after all.”

They both feared that now God no longer would be present in their lives.

Then the Rabbi asked them to look at their hands.  “Your hands,” he said to the rich man, “are the hands of God giving food to the poor.  And your hands,” said the Rabbi to the poor man, “also are the hands of God, receiving gifts from the rich.  So you see, God can still be present in your lives.  Continue baking and continue taking.  Your hands are the hands of God.”

A Taste of Paradise by Shlomo Carlebach, from Shlomo’s Stories

Rav Avraham Haim, one of the pupils of Rav Moishe Leib Sasover, wrote the following story about his teacher:

Once, when I was with my Rebbe, Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev came to visit Reb Moishele Leib Sasover late on a Friday afternoon.

“Moishe, I’d like to be with you for Shabbes.”

“Then you’ll have to come with me, because I’m going to the water carrier’s te eat.”

I thought to myself that if Rav Moishe Leib Sasover was to spend Shabbes with the water carrier, he must be one of “them,” one of the lamed-vav zaddikim*.  So I asked if I might come.

“Sure.  Why not?”

We went out to the outskirts of the city.  The water carrier had a wife and eight children and the whole family lived in a hole.  Everything was crammed into one little room.  I don’t want to say anything bad, but the place smelled terrible.
Rav Moishe Leib brought a little wine with him and Reb Levi Yitzhak, two challas for Shabbes.  We prayed, made kiddush over the wine, a motzi over the bread.  Then Rav Moishele Sasover said, “Do you have a little something to eat, kekoved Shabbes, in honor Shabbes?”
The wife of the lamed-vav zaddik said to my rebbe:  “I knew you were coming, Rav Moishele, so I saved some of my sauerkraut from Pesah.”

Saurkraut from Pesah!  In the middle of the summer. It goes without saying there was no refrigerator!
Friends, you can’t imagine.  She barely opened the lid of the jar and I almost fainted from the smell.  But I didn’t say anything. First she gave a little bit to Rav Levi Yitzhak, who started to yell:  “Gan Eden!  Gan Eden – Paradise!!”
Then she gave a taste to Rav Moishele Sasover who, with the barest drop in his mouth, mamash, keeled over and began yelling “Gan Eden! Gan Eden! This sauerkraut is straight from Paradise!” Then she gave a little bit to me.  I barely made it to the door before I began vomitting everything I’d eaten since my bar mitzvah.

Rav Moishele came outside and helped me to my feet.  “Let’s face it, Rav Haim.  You’re not on the level yet.  I think it’s time for you to home.”

*Lamed-vav is the number 36 in Hebrew.  The lamed-vav zaddikim are the 36 most righteous beings who hold up the world.  Because of their great powers as holy men and women, they remain hidden.

Practice the Four Questions!

Click here to sing along with Shira..

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And check out this new iPhone app to learn the 4 Questions!

I smile at my memories of Pesach as a child. . . counting the books in the shelves as I dusted, the mysterious search for chametz with the candle and the feather, sitting at the big grown up seder following attentively as he led us through the journey challenging everyone with questions and queries, negotiating with my dad over the afikomen (for world peace of course), the hilarious drunken singing at the very very very end of the seder night “An only kid an ONLY kid” we sang with such drama, chocolate candy bars, matzah cake, fluffy pankcakes. . . What a great holiday for a child. So much to do!

Spring Cleaning
We knew it was the season when we started eating beans and grains at every meal, coming up with more and more creative ways to eat up our chametz. And then the deep spring cleaning began. Each one of us had a very specific job assignment in addition to cleaning out our bedrooms. My favorite job was addressing the rows and rows of bookshelves. I was to take out each and every book, dust it and put it back in. I remember letting the subjects and titles of the books swirl around in my imagination where I made up stories and songs to entertain myself.

B’dikat Chametz
As we got closer and closer to the 1st night Seder, the tables filled up with our regular dishes to be exchanged for Pesach dishes, Haggadot out of the attic, and the yummy smells of Pesach food filled the house. The night before Pesach, we did a big b’diKAT chaMETZ. This is the official and final “Search for chametz.” As the youngest in the family, I hid about 10 pieces of bread (the very last in the house in this point) throughout a few rooms. Being a savvy and adventurous child, I had an excellent sense of bread hiding places. Then my family would gather, with a small paper bag, a long feather, a wooden spoon, and a tall candle. First my dad would lead us in the blessing,

“Blessed are you God, Rule of the Universe, who makes us holy with the commandments, and commands us to remove the leaven.”

And then, by candle light (at least thats how I remember it) my family searched for the hidden bread. When someone found a piece they called out and every gathered around for my dad to pick up the chametz with the feather and spoon and brush it into the paper bag. Eventually we would always have to resort to the “hot and cold” game for searching and usually I would actually forget where I hid all of those little pieces. But we would get them all eventually. And then with all of the chametz in the bag my father would declare,

“Any kind of leaven which remains in my possession that I have not seen nor removed or about which I do not know shall be regarded as non-existent and considered as the dust of the earth.” Mishneh Torah: Hilkot Hametz u-Matzah 2.1-3; 3.6-7

Oh the drama! And the fun! I’m very excited to follow this tradition with my young niece and watch her join in the excitement.

Celebrate this wonderful holiday with all of your senses!
Listen to the story…
Taste our sweet, bitter, and salty history…
Smell the springtime…
Touch the flat, crunchy matzah…
See your friends and family around the seder table!

Click here for a Seder Plate coloring page

There are many many different kinds of Haggadas. What does yours look like?

Click here for a Haggadah coloring page