What are Zemirot?

Image: Young woman playing guitar and singing with friends. (bbernard/Shutterstock, all rights reserved.)

Zemirot (singular is z’mirah) are Jewish songs with an association with Shabbat or holidays. Many zemirot are sung to several different tunes, and for the most popular, new tunes are being written all the time. Some Sephardic Jews also use the term to refer to the series of psalms in the morning service prior to the Barechu prayer.

The Zemirot Database is an online collection of zemirot with lyrics in the original language (Hebrew, Yiddish, Ladino, etc), and a translation into English. It also lists information about the origins of the song and links to recordings.

Another place to find zemirot is on YouTube.com. If you know the title (often the first few words of the song) you can search and find recordings on YouTube.

Some zemirot that may be familiar as Shabbat table songs:

Shalom Aleichem
Eleh Chamda Libi
Hinei Ma Tov

Another way to learn zemirot, the best way, is to learn with a bunch of Jews singing them together – learn around a Shabbat table, or at services at your synagogue.

Jewish Ethics: Links to Books

Image: An Amazon distribution center work floor. Photo from 7 Examples of How Amazon Treats Their 90,000+ Warehouse Employees Like Cattle by Jacob Weindling on PasteMagazine.com.

I often recommend books on this blog, and I am certainly an avid consumer of books. I’m working my way towards some better choices, and I thought I’d share the process with you.

Every consumer has a different menu of choices for consumption. The choices available to an able-bodied suburban consumer who owns a car are different from the choices available to a consumer living in an area with limited options for transportation and severe time or energy constraints. I want to emphasize that I am NOT making a judgment on choices forced by poverty, disability, or other menu-shrinking constraints. Rather, the same method follows: evaluate your choices and pick the best for you, whatever it is.

Jewish tradition bids us to take care not to injure others, directly or indirectly. When we do business with a company, we validate their choices about labor practices, sourcing their products, impact on the environment, etc. Their choices become our choices. Therefore it is worthwhile to think through our priorities for consumption.

Years ago, I boycotted Amazon.com because I saw it as a killer of locally owned bookstores. Gradually, as the bookstores succumbed anyway, and as my disabilities expanded, I altered my behavior and began using Amazon’s extremely convenient services, including book sales. The ability to have things delivered to my home as well as the convenience of the Kindle for reading in bed drove my decisions.

I winced whenever I read about Amazon’s labor practices, poor working conditions, and other questionable policies. Still I did not see better options for me, so I kept on buying from Amazon. Even here on the blog, I linked the names of books I recommended to their Amazon pages.

However, I made an error in my ethical calculations. I framed the choice to do business with Amazon as a binary choice: buy nothing from them vs. buy automatically from them. That is an easy mistake to make, since our brains tend to frame questions in the binary. There is also a sneaky convenience in saying, “I have to buy X from them, I might as well buy Y as well.” In fact, there are more options than those two.

Instead of “all” or “nothing,” I now re-frame the Amazon decision: I will buy from that company if and only if it is the least-harmful option available to me for genuinely necessary consumption. That’s going to take some extra time and effort, but I see it as a more ethical choice.

The part of that decision that will be visible here on the blog is that I’m going to start linking book titles to other choices than Amazon. In the most recent such post, Book List: Jewish Spirituality, I’ve begun my new practice. When an author has a web page with a link for buying the book, I’ll link to that, because no matter what it links to (usually Amazon) the author will get more money for their work. When there is no such page available, I’m going to link to an independent bookseller, and I’ll mix those up among several I know. On the recent list, I linked to Powell’s Books, an independent bookseller in Portland, Oregon with a good website and excellent service. Readers can navigate to the bookseller of their choice or to a local library.

Finally, as with all such questions, I’m open to the hope that Jeff Bezos (owner of Amazon) will see his way towards treating his employees with decency. Consumer pressure makes companies improve bad policies all the time: ask Nike, for instance, which has had an ongoing conversation with consumers and activists since the 1990’s.

Some principles to ponder:

Money is power, even in small quantities. We influence companies when we choose to do business with them, or not to do business, or to do business as little as possible.

Most menus have more than two items. I thought of Amazon as a yes/no decision, when in fact it was a yes/no/sometimes choice. If the only way a person can afford something they need is to buy it Walmart, Jewish tradition teaches that it is not my business to judge them, because I will be much too busy working out my own ethical problems.

Buying “Used” is an option, too. If we are concerned about the planet and sustainability, sometimes buying used goods is the most ethically sound option. I recommend this option with enthusiasm, although it has a downside: the author gets no pay for a used book sale. Again, the choices are ours and none of them are 100% “pure.”

Book List: Jewish Spirituality

Image: Two old books, open and stacked. (Photo: Woman1907 / Pixabay)

A rabbi friend and I were talking about good books about Jewish spirituality. Here’s my list – do you have any books to add? If so, I would love to hear about them in the comments.

The Sabbath, by Abraham Joshua Heschel. This book is the best I know of for learning about the spiritual richness of Shabbat.

Everyday Holiness: The Jewish Spiritual Path of Mussar, by Alan Morinis. Mussar is about personal development, and it has seen a revival in recent years.

Jewish Meditation by Aryeh Kaplan. Meditation is a universal practice, but Kaplan writes about some specifically Jewish approaches to the art.

One God Clapping by Alan Lew. Rabbi Lew was both a Conservative rabbi and a credentialed Buddhist teacher. This is his account of his spiritual journey from American Judaism to Buddhism and back again.

Eyes Remade for Wonder by Lawrence Kushner. This is a collection of Rabbi Kushner’s writings; I could easily add many of his books to this list.

Wise Aging: Living with Joy, Resilience, and Spirit, by Rachel Cowan and Linda Thal. Granted, this book addresses the challenges of aging, but it advocates spiritual growth for wise aging, and points the way.

Nurture the WOW: Finding Spirituality in the Frustration, Boredom, Tears, Poop, Desperation, Wonder, and Radical Amazement of Parenting, by Danya Ruttenberg. Another life-stage focused work on spirituality by a rabbi living in the thick of it.

What is (an) Aliyah?

Image: Several people gather on the bimah at Temple Sinai, Oakland, for an aliyah to the Torah. (Photo: Linda Burnett, all rights reserved.)

Aliyah (ah-lee-YAH or ah-LEE-yah) (plural, aliyot) is a Hebrew word meaning “going up.” In English, it has two principle meanings:

First meaning: When a Jew from the Diaspora (outside the land of Israel) moves to make their home in Israel, that is called “making aliyah.” It is regarded as a mitzvah, a religious duty, and the ideal of aliyah appears in numerous places in Jewish prayers and texts, most famously at the close of the Passover seder: “Next year in Jerusalem!”

Currently aliyah is governed by the Law of Return of the State of Israel. For more information about making aliyah, contact the Jewish Agency.

Second meaning: During the Torah service, readers are called up to the bimah (a raised platform in front of the congregation) to chant or read the blessings before and after each section of the Torah reading. We are called “to go up” to the Torah for these blessings, which are considered an honor. The one who blesses may or may not be the person who chants the verses from Torah. There are always a minimum of three sections of Torah read, so three sets of blessings as well.

The person who makes an aliyah to the Torah should be a Jew, should be 13 or more years of age, and should feel confident enough in their Hebrew to recite the blessings.

Here is a video from MyJewishLearning.com on how to make an aliyah to the Torah:

Rabbi Steven Exler explains the exact procedure for making an aliyah to the Torah.

What is Benching Gomel?

Image: A life preserver floating on green water. (DimitriWittmann/Pixabay_

“A car accident! Are you going to bench gomel?”

The first time I heard the phrase, I thought I heard, “bench Gomer.” What a weird thing to ask, I wondered, and who is Gomer? What did he have to do with the car accident?

Benching gomel is a beautiful Jewish tradition of gratitude and relief. It is a traditional expression of gratitude for survival of something perilous: an extremely long journey, a situation of grave danger, recovery from serious illness, or release from prison. It is also said by a mother after she has survived childbirth.

In Biblical times, when the Temple was standing, a person who wanted to give thanks for delivery from danger would bring a Korban Todah, a thanksgiving sacrifice, to the Temple. Nowadays, just as the Amidah substitutes for the daily sacrifices, the Gomel blessing fills in for the Korban Todah.

Here is the text of the blessing:

The one giving thanks says:

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, ha-gomel l’chayavim tovim she-g’malani kol tuv.

Blessed are You, Eternal our God, Ruler of all that is, who bestows goodness upon those who are accountable, and who has bestowed every goodness upon me.

The minyan responds:

Mi she-g’malcha kol tuv, hu yi-g’malcha kol tuv selah.

May the One who has rewarded you with goodness bestow you with goodness for ever.

Birkat haGomel, my translation

Bench means “to bless.” HaGomel is “the thanksgiving.”

There are some rules for benching gomel:

  1. One must be 13 or over (bar/bat mitzvah) to say the blessing.
  2. One should say the blessing within three days, but extra days are allowed if it takes that time to find a minyan.
  3. One must say it with a minyan, preferably in the presence of a Torah scroll.
  4. If the one saying it does so in connection with an aliyah to the Torah, he says the blessing of gomel immediately after the blessing following the Torah reading.
  5. One stands, if possible, to bench gomel.
  6. After benching gomel, it is traditional to give tzedakah as a thanksgiving.
  7. Some also host a thanksgiving meal [seudat hoda’ah] afterwards.
  8. While it is preferable to bench gomel in the synagogue with the Torah in the room, it is permissible to bench gomel in any place suitable for prayer, as long as one has the minyan.
  9. Out of courtesy, ask the person leading the service if you can bench gomel BEFORE a service begins, preferably well ahead of time.

In case you are wondering, yes, I have benched gomel. It was after a car accident in which my car was totaled. It was helpful to me to share what had happened with my community (cuts down on gossip) and it let them know that I might need help in the coming weeks.

Readers, if you have benched gomel at some time in your life, how was that experience for you?

A Puzzle: Yashar koach!

Here’s a puzzle…

According to the WordPress software 100 people have gotten to this site today by searching for the string, “What is Yasher Koach?”

I wonder what wonderful thing happened today that so many people had that question all at once?

Whatever it was, Yasher koach to all the readers who asked the question, because asking questions is a fine thing to do. May it lead you to greater heights!

Blessing of Gratitude

Image: An abacus with blue beads. (pixabay)

Blessed are You, Eternal One our God, who brings us the unexpected blessing.

Thank You for the beauty of the natural world, as small and available as a dandelion.

Thank you for water, for its blessing as it replenishes us.

Thank you for the parts of my body that work. Help me to continue to appreciate that miracle.

Thank you for the fellowship of animals, for the friendly dog and the familiar cool glare of the neighbor cat.

Thank you for fish, so slippery and mysterious.

Thank you for friends who travel alongside me.

Thank you for mentors who show me the way.

Thank you for the questions that press me forward, and for the answers that still elude me.

Thank You for morning light; thank you for the relief of dusk.

Thank you for mystery, and for sweetness, and for the relief of sleep.

Amen.

What are The Three Weeks?

Image: An imprint of a foot in the sand, just before the surf obliterates it. (Pixabay)

Believe it or not, we are at the barest beginning of a cycle that will bring us to the High Holy Days in the fall.

Sunday marked the beginning of the build-up to the grimmest day in the Jewish calendar: Tisha B’Av. For the next three weeks, the Haftarah (prophetic) readings will warn us that God is angry with Israel, that it is time to repent our selfish ways.

What to do with these? We can go to shul, read or listen to the Haftarah readings, and let them open our hearts. If the Saturday morning services are difficult for you to access, read the readings:

  1. Jeremiah 1:1 – 2:3
  2. Haftarah for Ashkenazim: Jeremiah 2:4 – 28; 3:4 Haftarah for Sephardim: Jeremiah 2:4 – 28; 4:1 – 4:2
  3. Isaiah 1:1-27

How can we make use of these readings to enrich our spiritual lives?

1. We can hear them in the context of the synagogue service -or-

2. We can read and ponder them: “What do the prophets’ words have to do with me?”

3. We can open our hearts to repentance and change.

Traditionally this was a season of sadness, preparing to re-experience or remember the trauma of Tisha B’Av, the destruction of the Temple.

Besides that, it is a reminder that our tradition is to remember and learn from past mistakes. It is another “Never again” – this time not about the Holocaust but about the terrible, terrible damage we do ourselves and others when we indulge in sinat chinam, baseless hatred.

So I will not say “Enjoy” – but I will wish you fruitful reflection and fruitful prayers during this solemn time.

Why Ritual? Saying the Shema

Image: Women of the Wall, Nashot HaKotel, reciting the Shema. (http://womenofthewall.org.il)

I’ve been reading a lot lately about ritual. I’m getting ready to write an article about ritual, and I wanted to brush up, so that I don’t look like too much of a dinosaur when I publish the thing.

Most of what I know on the subject I learned from an Episcopal liturgist, the Rev. Dr. Marion J. Hatchett, z”l. He taught at the University of the South back in the 1980’s and I first learned about ritual from him. He was planted firmly inside his tradition, and he would tell you that when he celebrated the Eucharist (the Mass,) he was bringing a past event into the present, making the sacred happen right there in St. Luke’s Chapel. According to phenomenology of religion (a fancy name for that understanding of religious activity) we perform rituals in order to bring a sacred event into the now, to sanctify the participants, the present time, and the present place. (His text on the subject, now out of print, was Sanctifying Life, Time, and Space.)

I am no longer an Episcopalian (it turned out to be a stopping place on my journey from Catholicism to Judaism) but Dr. Hatchett’s lessons shape a lot of my understanding of ritual to this day.

What does that look like, for me as a Jew? When I say my prayers, for instance, the Shema, I say it (1) because I am commanded to say it (2) because in saying it, I join all the Jews, past, present and future, in saying that elegant, compressed statement of belief and solidarity. In saying the Shema, even by myself, I am participating in a cosmic Now, a moment of oneness with the Holy One and with the Jewish people across time and space.

In that moment, when I sit or stand with my hand over my eyes, and I recite the ancient words:

Shema Yisrael! Adonai Eloheinu! Adonai echad!

Hear, Israel! Adonai is our God! Adonai is one!

– Deuteronomy 6:4

In that moment, I am standing next to Rabbi Akiva, who recited those words as the Romans tortured him to death.

I am sitting in the study hall with Rabbi Judah the Prince, redactor of the Mishnah, as he covers his eyes to recite. (BT Berakhot 13a)

I sit next to the writer of Deuteronomy as he recites them to a scribe, who scratches his goose quill across the surface of a scroll. (Deut. 6:4)

I say them with every Jew who has whispered them, fearing for their lives.

I whisper them with the mothers who teach that first prayer to their babies.

I say them with the Women of the Wall, every Rosh Chodesh.

I say them with the Jews, past and present, who might not agree that I am a Jew.

I have said them many times sitting by the bed of a Jew who is about to leave this world, sometimes with them, sometimes for them.

I expect to say that prayer at the hour of my own death.

We say those words together at bedtime, and when we rise up.

We say them on the road, and in our houses, and in our schools.

We say them twice a day, and in times of great stress:

Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad!

Shabbat: After One of Those Weeks

Image: Pouring a cup of tea. (Photo: dungthuyvunguyen /Pixabay)

It’s been one of those weeks. My personal list of small woes includes a broken tooth, a twisted knee, a forgotten AC adapter for my computer (oops – no power,) and a blood pressure spike. These things are all related, and they are all manageable, but still, it’s been a week. It wasn’t the week I planned, that’s for sure.

Those are just my personal mishaps. The news feeds have been full of horrors: more people dying in the border camps, a crowd at the president’s rally shrieking racist chants, an Israeli government official telling us what he really thinks about diaspora Jews, a ghastly story about a pedophile who may be or have been buddies with the president, building tensions between the US and Iran. There’s more, but that’s enough!

Such weeks are not unusual any more. I spent some time this week on an effort to be empathetic, imagining what it would be like if I had different feelings about politics, and I think it’s probably been a crummy week for them, too. I take no joy in that.

So in a few hours it will be Shabbat. I’m going to turn off the news. The computer will turn itself off, until my replacement AC adapter comes, and I’m going to choose to see that as a good thing. I’m away from home, in a pretty comfy hotel, and I’m going to stay “home” this Shabbat. I will not try to navigate an unfamiliar synagogue.

For Refuah (Healing): to allow my knee to heal and my blood pressure to subside under my new meds. (Which is not a crisis – I’d been on the same old low dosage meds since 1997.)

For Anivah (Humility): I will let go of all things over which I have no control. Anivah, humility, is a valuable middah (virtue.)

For Tefilah (Prayer): I’m going to spend some serious time praying for the people trapped at our border, and for the souls of the people guarding them. I will listen for inspiration: what I could do that I’m not already doing?

For Menuchah (Rest): I’m going to let my body and soul breathe a bit. Sleep more, stress less.

For Ahavah (Love): I will call the ones I love and touch base, reassure them that I’m OK, listen to what’s happening with them, and tell them I love them.

An ideal Shabbat? Maybe not. But it’s the Shabbat I’ve got, and I’m going to make the most of it.

How was your week? How are your body and soul doing? What’s your plan, this Shabbat?

I wish you healing and prayer, rest and love. Shabbat shalom!