There's a Grain of Truth in this Shavuot Custom from Ethiopia

Yes, Shavuot is a celebration of our receiving the Torah, but have we missed out on the underlying message of the story of Ruth? It is much more than a love story. Much more than a tale of bonding or of a woman embracing our faith. It provides the setting for an important Jewish value -- helping the needy. Boaz was a wealthy man, owner of bountiful grain fields. Naomi was his destitute, long lost relative. In order to help Naomi without embarrassing her, he orders his workers to let Ruth glean from the leftover grains fallen to the side.

While one of Shavuot's many names is "The Harvest Festival", can you think of a custom that actually incorporates grain? I have just discovered one and I want to say thank you to Ethiopian Jews for reminding me about the lesson of the Book of Ruth. They have a communal tradition of bringing bread and grains to their Kes -- their religious leader. He blesses the bounty, after which the entire community sits down and eats together. After all, bread is the staff of life -- a fact of which Boaz was mindful.









Grain photo credit

Shavuot, Verona Italy & the Origins of the Bat Mitzvah

It's common knowledge that the Bat-Mitzvah ceremony is an American innovation dating back to 1922 when Judith Kaplan, daughter of Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan -- founder of the Reconstructionist Movement -- celebrated her Bat Mitzvah.

What most people don't know is that as far back as the Renaissance, Italian Jewry had a very liberal view of women and their role in Judaism. This information has been brought to light by Dr. Aliza Lavie, author of the bestselling book A Jewish Woman's Prayer Book, through her new study: Women's Customs: A Journey of Jewish Customs, Prayers and Stories. One of the revelations Lavie brings to light is that the first Bat Mitzvah was the brainchild of 19th century Verona Italy's Rabbi, Isaac Pardo. Through her research Lavie discovered that this was an annual communal ceremony held on Shavuot. The 12-year old girls wore white and entered the synagogue's men's section as part of a procession accompanied by a choir singing the Song of Deborah from the Book of Judges.

I'm not sure when this practice unfortunately faded from the scene, but Rabbi Pardo's great grandson -- Yonatan Bassi -- reports that his 100+ year-old mother still remembers every detail of her Bat Mitzvah. True, the above description indicates that the girls were not called up to the Torah. Still, it was a major gender breakthrough, especially considering the minimal role Jewish women around the globe had at that point in time.

For this Shavuot, where does this leave you, your daughters and students? An opportunity to talk about the role girls and women have/should have in the Jewish tradition. We know that Rosh Chodesh has traditionally been considered a female celebration. Now we can add Shavuot.  What next?

Synagogue photo credit

Connect the Carob Eating Custom of Tu B'Shvat with Lag B'Omer

Carob fruit for Tu B'Shvat. But Carob fruit for Lag B'Omer? A fitting fruit if you ask me since on Lag B'Omer so many  Jews hailing from the Middle East honor the memory of Rabbi Shimon Bar-Yochai -- one of Rabbi Akiva's outstanding students and author of the Zohar. The carob connection is simple. Legend has it that he and his son hid from the Romans in a cave, where the two learned Torah for 13 years. The miraculous appearance of a carob tree and a spring of water next to the cave provided the nourishment they needed to survive.

Here's the next Tu B'Shvat/Lag B'Omer connection that I'm spinning in my head. Most of us are familiar with the Tu B'Shvat Seder -- a veritable fruit feast. Oddly enough, one of the Lag B'Omer customs practiced by Jews from Tunisia, Libya and Morocco is to hold a feast honoring Rabbi Shimon Bar-Yochai because Lag B'Omer was a memorable date in his life -- on this same date (not year) he became a certified teacher, got married and passed away.

And you thought this minor holiday is only marked by bonfires!


Carob tree photo credit

Connecting Shofar Blowing to Civilian Sirens

My mind goes back to last year when 20-year old cousin Michael spent his Spring semester at Tel Aviv University. "Wow!" he said. "What an unbelievable experience Israel Memorial Day is." He explained: "No sales, no barbecues, no merrymaking!" What he experienced was respect to the fallen, as the entire country came to a standstill with the sound of silence at the sound of the siren -- be it on the road or in the shuk.

This got me thinking. Shofar blowing. Sirens. Around the world, civil defense sirens warn against potential danger as well as sound "the all clear" signal. Israel has a special siren call in case of imminent attack or danger. Now let's connect the dots. During Biblical times the shofar was used as a way to mark the start of a war. Take a look at Joshua and the story of Jericho. The use of numerous shofarim was part of the battle plan.

Then and now, be it in Biblical Israel or the modern state, the shofar/siren was used for numerous purposes.   Back then, what better way to announce the beginning of Rosh Chodesh or to usher in Rosh Hashanah -- the New Year? During the First and Second Temples the sound of the shofar was incorporated with trumpet blowing to signal special occasions and ceremonies. Little wonder that the Chief Rabbi of the Israel Defense Forces -- Shlomo Goren -- made sure to blow the shofar at the Wailing Wall when Israel recaptured Jerusalem's Old City during the Six Day War.

Today? Aside from civil defense purposes and silent commemorative moments on Yom Hashoa and Yom Hazikaron, sirens are sounded every Friday to signal the beginning of Shabbat. A new custom? Not at all.  When the Jews returned (to Israel) from exile in Babylonia, a  priest blew the shofar to signal the people that it's time to stop work and get ready for Shabbat. Travel to the Jewish community living in the island of Djerba off the coast of Tunisia, and you'll find a living example of this custom.

Time for a shofar blowing class or competition?
Think about it and have a Shabbat Shalom.


Shofar blowing photo credit
Siren photo credit

Origins & Customs of Yom Hashoah

It's always fascinating to find out why specific dates are chosen for memorial holidays. Yom Ha'shoah is a good example. Is there an obvious date for remembering this horrific carnage which lasted so many years? While some voted for Tisha B'Av when many other catastrophes occurred in Jewish history, the original plan was to hold Yom Ha'shoah on the 14th of Nisan -- the anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising (April 19, 1943), which this memorial in Warsaw symbolizes.

Sounds perfectly logical, but it didn't work. Who could stop, mourn and remember when the country was in full swing with Passover preparations? Let's not forget that the 15th of Nisan is the first day of Passover. To paraphrase a famous American quote: "Jerusalem, we have a problem." And boy, was it a problem! First Passover, then a mere 12 days after the last day of Passover, Israel Memorial Day. What to do? Obviously sandwich it in during this season of remembering. And so, in 1953 Israel's Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion and its President Yitzhak ben-Zvi passed a law stating that Yom Ha'shoah is to be celebrated on the 27th of Nisan.

Today, the official ceremony marking the day is held at sundown, at Yad Vashem's Warsaw Ghetto Plaza. The national flag is lowered to half mast and Holocaust survivors light six torches symbolizing the six million who perished.  Promptly at 10 a.m. the next morning a siren is sounded, and the entire country comes to a standstill (more on sirens next week).  All public entertainment places are closed. Ceremonies are held in schools, military bases and public institutions. Entertainment shows on TV and radio are put on "hold"as well, substituted by documentaries on the Holocaust and low-key songs.

"B-O-R-I-N-G?" Not at all. "M-E-A-N-I-N-G-F-U-L!" Especially in this day and age of existential threats to Israel's existence. Yom Ha'shoah is more than a time to remember. It's a day to reflect.


Warsaw Ghetto Memorial Photo Credit

My Theme for this Year's Seder: Social Protest

My late father had several wonderful Passover customs. I've already told you about his bringing home strangers to our seder table. Another custom of his was connecting the seder with current events. This is not a kiddie oriented custom, but let's face it -- adults also need a picker-upper so that they won't feel it's "same old, same old" when the Seder rolls around.

I've tried to continue this custom (sometimes successful, sometimes not) and this year I'm saying to myself, it's a no brainer. All the social protest that has been going on in Israel and America is a natural segue to the Haggadah and the story of Passover.

So that's my theme for this year and I'm going to do it through visuals that are going to prominently stand on the seder table -- without taking away from the significance of the seder plate, of course. To begin with, I'm going to make a a small hand-written poster shouting "Let My People Go." Next, if a picture is worth a thousand words, try these 4,000 words worth of pictures out for size.

Along with my hand written placard, this reminder to Pharaoh:

Seamlessly moving to current events, when today we're not slaves, but many of us are feeling downtrodden. Remember the social protests in Tel Aviv last summer on those sizzling, summer nights?

If you'd like to put up some photos with Hebrew protest banners, try this or another option.

Closer to U.S. shores, here are some images for you, especially if you feel you belong with the 99%:

Get the picture? This year the story of Passover and the reading of the Haggadah speak to us loud and clear. Give photos the opportunity of getting that message across.

Wishing all of you a meaningful and memorable Seder.


Egyptian Slaves Photo Credit
Tel Aviv Social Protest Photo Credit
99% Photo Credit
Wall Street Protest Photo Credit

Bring the Custom of "Kimcha d'Pischa" to Your Seder Table

This week I'm going to put fun Passover customs to the side and focus on a more serious tradition --  Kimcha d'Pischa.


This ancient custom is traced to the Jerusalem Talmud. Its literal meaning is "flour for Passover", which is exactly what the Rabbis instructed fellow Jews to give the poor who had no means of baking their own matzot.

Today, Kimcha d'Pischa has evolved into food packages for the needy. Certainly, this is an admirable form of charity and a wonderful way to get children involved in helping the poor. Yet, you don't have to be penniless to be poor. Assistance to the needy does not begin and end with food or money. My late father began a custom in our family, which I continue to this day. At the end of synagogue services on the first and second nights of Passover, he rounded up the lonely and brought them home to sit around our Seder table. My hat goes off to my late mother who never made a fuss. Equal credit goes to my entire family, including aunts, uncles and cousins who warmly welcomed the strangers sitting next to them.

My family was not alone in this generous act. While researching Kimcha d'Pischa I found a family in Poland who did the exact same thing. I'm sure that if I made the effort, I would find others as well. Tying this tradition to the actual Seder night is easy.  You are told to pass down the story about the birth of our nation to your children. The hagaddah reminds us that we were strangers in Egypt. Connect the dots, bring strangers to your table and pass down an expanded Kimcha d'Pischa custom that will give added meaning to your seder nights and the lives of your guests.


Flour photo credit