thoughts and musings from young adults living Jewishly – and Jew-“ish”-ly – in
The wish lists of those in need put our own good fortune in perspective.
Following the shooting, I felt secure in my instinct to shield and protect my kids. But as Shabbat drew near, I found myself wondering: Should we go as a family?
I am less concerned about the midterm election outcome than I am about how people will react to that outcome the next morning.
Yom Kippur always takes place after Rosh Hashanah, but I’m thinking it would be a lot better to go into the New Year with a clean slate.
I appear and behave Jewishly, but it took a long time to get there, and I still have a long way to go.
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When we think of the High Holiday season, certain rituals likely come to mind: Listening to the sounding of the shofar, tasting honey-kissed food, smelling freshly baked challah and kindled holiday lights, and gathering with loved ones.
It was a decade ago that this Buffalo, N.Y. transplant and newly minted Ohio State graduate moved to the big city.
Every Passover, we're commanded to tell the story not just of our ancestors -- but of our own liberation from bondage.
The haggadah offers rituals that the teen women who created it hope others will incorporate into their Passover seders.
Studying the laws and history surrounding Chanukah made me reflect on my mixed-faith upbringing and the tumult of my growing up as it related to religion.
What two kosher pizzerias on the Upper West Side can teach the rest of Jewish America.
As a child, I thought of fasting on Yom Kippur as the pinnacle of adult-ness—a demonstration of piety, self-restraint, and poise—but when I became a Bat Mitzvah and my turn came, I became much less enthusiastic.
During this past summer's tumultuous news of hate rallies, terrorism, and hurricanes, I was lucky enough to get lost in a world of letters -- love letters, that is, written from Jewish adults to children.
Close your eyes and imagine yourself in the synagogue listening to the blasting of the shofar, something many of us will be doing just a couple weeks from now. Feel the power of the sound -- the staccato notes, the longer notes, and the really long note -- reverberate throughout the sanctuary.
As the High Holiday Season begins, we typically begin to draft our resolutions for coming year; as the current year waxes, the coming year wanes.
It has taken us many years, but my husband and I finally bought Shabbat candlestick holders. They are absolutely perfect -- except for one thing.
How I found Jewish community for the first time shepherding teens across Israel and Spain
My parents and grandparents didn’t have to hide themselves nor their Jewish identities; do I lose my “Jewish Miracle” status?
Why it’s really hard, and why I do it anyway.
With barbecues, weekend getaways and rooftop happy hours, it can feel difficult to be in a mourning period when our world around us is generally happy and festive.
I saw children and senior citizens from different cultures, religions, races, and worlds -- who lived only blocks apart yet had never met -- come together and connect through their shared humanity.
Everything is a choice. The shoes you put on this morning, the route you took to work, where you're eating lunch, your trip to the gym tonight. We're selecting and making decisions every minute of our lives.
As a professor, I also get a sabbatical in the seventh year at my job at a small college in Iowa. I spent mine in Chicago writing a book.
The day my director called to say I got the job I told her I felt like I won the lottery. I was ecstatic to be working for an organization I was so passionate about.
There are opportunities to engage in Judaism and celebrate and deepen your Jewishness during the summer -- you just have to find them.
While the youngest at your seder will ask the four traditional questions when we celebrate later this month, here are four other big questions for all of us to think about while breaking matzah.
Everyone believes his or her grandpa is the best, as they absolutely should. And of course, I think no differently.
How my niece grew my heart three sizes this winter break
I woke up last Wednesday morning with an idea: I wanted to host 2016’s last Shabbat.
I love watching the Chanukah candles dance and dazzle in the darkness during the shortest days of the year.
My mom met the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, four years before he died. It wasn't a vacation, celebrity tour or religious pilgrimage. It was a trip of critical necessity. At 4 years old, my sister was dying of Leukemia.
Eight ways to make Chanukah have a bit more fire, more energy, more pop pop -- POP!
The High Holidays give us a chance to step back and look more closely at the path before us.
Back by popular demand -- at least according to my mom -- is my (sometimes) annual guide to a sweeter new year.
I love riding my bike! The breeze is so refreshing. The physical exertion is exhilarating. And the experience of accomplishment, especially on long distances, is gratifying. I hate riding my bike! It’s too hot outside. My muscles are aching. I’d so much rather drive to wherever I’m going.
I did not grow up with the idea of Shabbat dinner on Friday evening every week.
It was a day and time circled on my calendar for the past two academic years. Every Tuesday at noon, a dozen of us students would study Torah together as part of one of the classes offered through the Florence Melton School of Adult Jewish Learning.
“I hate you.” These are powerful words. They can ruin years of relationship development in two seconds.
Essentially, I've grown up with tefilah (prayer) -- that I know -- but have I become a grownup with tefilah?
My papa, Ralph Rehbock, has been the greatest influencer and teacher in my life. Since surviving the Holocaust as a young boy, he has never been shy speaking about his past, or about teaching the lessons of the Holocaust as a member of Illinois Holocaust Museum & Education Center’s Speakers’ Bureau.
My grandfather’s Judaism called to him when he was 16. It was 1942. His family had emigrated to America decades earlier and he was living the American Dream.
I first remember learning about the Holocaust when I was 5 years old. Sitting in my grandparents’ living room, the camera crew entered with all of their equipment and I sat quietly on the couch with the rest of my family as we waited for the interviewer to begin asking my grandfather questions.
One of the highlights at the Seder is the four questions.