Tag: deliver

I am very lucky to have a husband who is a lifelong solar system nerd. His childhood dream was to witness a total solar eclipse. So in 2017 we packed up the kids and headed to SC to see it. And now I am an eclipse chaser, too 🙂 A few weeks ago we drove to the tiny town of New Paris, OH to see the eclipse in totality again. We met up with some old friends who have been though unthinkable tragedy in the last few years. I was so excited for them to witness this celestial spectacle. We were super lucky with clear skies on April 8, and the sun and moon did not disappoint! The world seemed to get quiet, the sky tuned an indescribable shade before going dark, it got so cool I wanted to run for my jacket but was afraid to miss something. In a world of such heartbreak and despair, it was so hopeful to a have 3 minutes where many of us from all over the world could witness a natural event together. In those very mindful moments there is no war, no fear, no terror – only light and dark and awe. Totally worth the 10 hour drive straight home to Arlington, and we can’t wait for the next one.

–Paula Levin-Alcorn

“”There are no words; or rather, the words go in circles. The holy is a quality sui generies [unique to itself]. One knows it, intuitively, as one knows beauty. It is irreducible. It can only be described by synonyms or by the traces it leaves. The holy is ineffable, yet it is identifiable. One can point to it and say, “”this is holy,”” without being able to say what, or how, or why. One can identify the holy without being able to describe it, except by the word holy, and its synonyms.

The circle of the holy superimposes itself on other circles as one tries to grasp the holy and to live within it. As one integrates the holy into life, one needs other words. One reaches outward: King, Lord, Name, justice, beauty, purity, Shabbat, Israel, You. One probes inward: awe, wonder, radical amazement, sublime, love, joy, bliss, bless, worship. One gropes for forms: holy day, temple, mitsva, liturgy, charity, study, Torah, acts of kindness, martyrdom. The failure of language is transformed into a rich vocabulary of response, always haunted by its own muteness. Silence overflows into words, an echo of an unfathomable depth.””

This quote is from Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest, by Rabbi David R. Blumenthal, in his chapter on holiness.
–Rav Amelia

my chlidren’s smiles

–Anonymous

I was thrilled when I learned that there was a blessing for seeing a rainbow. For me, this was an unexpected reminder that G-d’s presence is always there, even though it is not always visible to us. I immediately began singing “Somewhere over the Rainbow” from the Wizard of Oz- ALL DAY LONG. By the way, the Israel Kamakawiwo’ole version would sound great on tenor ukele!
–Mimi Youkeles

I have been learning to see G-d’s presence in the physical laws governing the universe. One thing I’ve learned from my job is how hard it is for people to make rules. No matter how hard rulemakers try for clarity, precision, and harmony, it’s not unusual for their results to be inelegant, contradictory, or susceptible to different interpretations. When rules go into operation, it takes time to figure out how they apply, and they have consequences the rulemakers did not foresee. Sometimes the rules create problems of their own. The world changes, and before long, it’s time to rewrite the rules again.

The universe’s rules are not like that. Matter, energy, and the laws they follow came into being with the universe itself, and have stayed the same ever since. Some important parts of the universe’s fabric — numbers like pi, phi, and e, for example — are beyond human ability to understand, and can only be approximated. Others — like electromagnetism and gravity, relativity and quantum mechanics — are in tension that humans have yet to resolve. Yet the rules are comprehensive, and they mesh perfectly: When a particle is subjected to magnetic and gravitational forces, it doesn’t seem to have to wait for a decision on what to do.

If the universe’s rules transcend human understanding, and work more perfectly than ones human intelligence could devise, why not infer something beyond human understanding and intelligence beyond them? As Maimonides says, knowledge and love of G-d flow from knowledge of the universe, and contemplation of His works.
–Steve Schwartz

My husband and I went to Ohio for the recent solar eclipse. His parents live in a small rural town right in the path of the full eclipse. We sat in their backyard to watch the spectacle and other people in the neighborhood sat outside their houses as well, everyone peering up through their eclipse glasses. A little before totality, the quality of light around us changed, taking on a grey hue that was different from regular twilight. Then day instantly became night as the moon completely covered the sun and for nearly four minutes we marveled at that ring of fire around the dark center. At the moment of totality we heard cheers coming from downtown, where hundreds had gathered to watch. The whole event was truly awe inspiring. I wondered about ancient peoples who must have feared the world was ending and prayed with gratitude when the sun came back out. It also made me feel connected–not just to the universe but also to other people I didn’t even know, who had all stopped their busy lives and focused their attention on a single, common, wondrous experience that day.
–Rachel W.

I’m with Elisa on the power of music to transport one to another plane (classical music in particular). When I drive and hear a piece of music that I (once had been able to) play on the piano, I feel like I can fly (!) I also find sunrise to be transporting (for the beauty) and hopeful (for the promise of another day).
–Eva Kleederman

My wife and I have always found a visit to Yosemite National Park to be a spiritual experience. If one has doubts about the existence of God, simply visit Yosemite. Last year we experience it a special way; with our kids and grandkids. I can’t share the experience any better than in this blog post: https://barrysblog5.wordpress.com/2023/07/27/triumphant-return/
–Barry A.

“Our shul’s contact us e-mail inbox.

It seems crazy to suggest that an e-mail inbox, especially one that you’d imagine would be bombarded with SPAM, could be a source of hope. But it’s absolutely true.

On the front page of our website we have a short form people can fill out to contact us. And every so often, we get a message about a new-to-the-area individual or family that’s looking for a Jewish community to connect with.

While it’s certainly nice to see that our congregation can be there to support Jews in our area, my sense of pride and hope doesn’t just come from these incoming messages.

No, what makes these messages so powerful and such a source of hope is knowing that we have members like Naomi who monitor these emails and quickly jump into action, working to help meet the need of those that reached out.
–Ben Simon

Here’s an unexpected source of hope for me: horseradish.

That’s probably odd, but hear me out.

For years, as Passover approached, I’d make my way to the supermarket to make my yearly purchase of a single horseradish root. Growing up, we used jared horseradish on seder plate, but Shira’s family insisted on the freshly grated stuff. So that became our tradition.

After the seder, the root would sit on our fridge till it shriveled up, and I’d toss it.

But last year, I decided, I’d step up my game and plant the root. Like usual, I purchased a majestic specimen of of horseradish from Whole foods. And like usual, we used about 2 tablespoons of it. But alas, my goal of planting the remaining section kept getting delayed. Finally, like usual, I found myself with a shriveled up piece of horseradish, that seemed destined for the compost bin.

I figured my goal this year of planting my horseradish was a bust. On a whim however, I sliced the root into three chunks and put them in water on our kitchen island. To my surprise, weeks of waiting, all 3 sprouted. I then planted them in a section of on back yard where nothing grows, and to my shock and joy, the horseradish thrived there. I got the joy of not just watching something grow, but also using horseradish greens in our cooking.

Winter, of course, killed off the obvious signs of the horseradish. But as you can see in the photo, they are back at spring time. If all goes to plan, this year’s horseradish run won’t involve a trip to Whole Foods, instead, it will be to our backyard.

I’m sure those with a green thumb are shaking their head at my story. Of course horseradish grew, it’s basically weed. Sure, have your perspective, that’s fine.

For me, however, this is a lesson in persistence and hope itself. When I think all is lost, I think of the humble horseradish and how it patiently refused to give up.
–Ben Simon