[Alumni Guest Post] A Holy Stranger with Open Arms

Alissa Thomas (Spring '11) blogs about relating to
Jewish Converts, inspired by her own father:

There is nothing like seeing my father dressed head to toe in all white.

His soul hearkens to the time of the Kabbalistic rabbis who, draped in white clothing, would sing Kabbalat Shabbat in the fields. I imagine my father in his Shabbat white watching the sun set with his arms spread like angels’ wings and his heart leaping out of his chest toward his Creator. It is quite a breathtaking sight.

My family takes the Kabbalistic practice of wearing white clothing on Shabbat and many chagim very seriously. Every family member has a section of his or her wardrobe for the special white pieces, including shoes. We appreciate the physical expression of spiritual openness and humility; but my father has always had a special relationship with this practice. Continue reading

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7-Day Silent Meditation Retreat

From my blog:

Imagine spending seven days without your phone, television, or computer. Okay, now add on the incentive of no listening to music, reading, or writing. And now try doing that without speaking or communicating at all. Not just verbal communication; you can’t even look at anyone else. Oh, and one final, small thing – you’re not really supposed to think either. Sounds appealing, doesn’t it?

Well, yesterday, I returned from a 7-day silent meditation retreat in which I joined about 40 other people just as crazy as me in seeing what exactly that experience would be like. The retreat took place at an absolutely beautiful kibbutz in northern Israel called Hannaton, about halfway between Haifa and Tiberias. From this small kibbutz you could see tree-filled mountains and mountain ranges on all sides with tiny, mostly Arab villages here and there, and with the Sea of Galilee right outside the kibbutz’s borders. Continue reading

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[Alumni Guest Post] Tzfat Shabbat

From Daniel Shibley's (Fellows '12) blog:

Tzfat

Tzfat (Photo credit: tunnelarmr)

The mystical city of Tzfat, in which I spent Shabbat with my parents, is renowned on numerous levels. Rich in history, Tzfat is one of the holy cities of Judaism. Atop the mountain, blasted by a stiff wind, sits a crusader fortress which lies in ruin but affords fabulous views of Mount Meron to the West and villages of Galilee in the surrounding valleys. The art galleries and old synagogues, including those of R’ Yosef Karo and The Ari z”l, which draw captive audiences from tourists and residents alike. Halls of study are tucked into alleys, along with shops selling trinkets of countless variety. Walking through the narrow streets before Shabbat afforded me spectacular whiffs of chicken soup, challah, roasted vegetable, and other Shabbat fare. Tzfat also attracts a certain self-selecting population of shoe-less kabbalists eager to take dunk in a mikvah (ritual bath) said to have mystical properties. Musicians in the streets strumming guitars croak out melodies, some beautiful, some less so. Standing and watching the sunset as Shabbat began, it becomes very easy to understand the inspiration for the institution of the Psalms of Kabbalat Shabbat, as well R’ Alkabetz’s poem, L’cha Dodi. As I walked the alleys Continue reading

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[Alumni Guest Post] Fire over T’Fillah

Daniel Shibley (Year '11, Fellows '12) started a new blog!
Here's one of his posts, from Dec. 11:

Although we are now a few weeks removed from the tense days of war that came to define the month of November, the exact moment of the first siren has remained with me, a quasi-trauma, a frozen second that I imagine will probably never depart my psyche. In a previous blog, I wrote regularly about t’fillah, aspects thereof, and I would be remiss to leave this particular experience undocumented.

Kabbalat Shabbat, a compilation of Psalms designated by the Kabbalists of the 16th Century, which is recited, often sung, every Friday night in most communities has become one of the most significant aspects of my week. When done “correctly,” the combination of singing, energy, and outpouring of emotion, can reach some near euphoric state. Somewhere between the vibrations of voices mingled and the sheer passion, there exists a supreme peace, an acknowledgement that the six working days have concluded and the transcendence of time and space, Shabbat, has begun. That is,until with a shrill and defined wail, the sound of an air raid siren shatters the peace.

It takes a few seconds for synapses to fire, it takes a few seconds to realize, it takes a few seconds to be able to uproot ones feet when davening is quieted at yeshiva and the announcement is made about incoming missiles necessitating an immediate scramble to a sheltered area. That Shabbat I was hosting a dear friend, as Continue reading

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[Alumni Guest Post] Lecha Dodi – Man in the Mirror (Pitch Perfect feat. Cup Game Kabbalah)

Who would have thunk it – a perfect mashup of Michael Jackson and Lecha Dodi!

At the Weber School in Atlanta, pop culture expert Joey Heyman (PEP ’08-’10) and director of student life/creative guru Ori Salzberg have teamed up with Joey’s students to create an amazing mosaic of the first two chapters of Bereishit, classical midrash, Lurianic Kabbalah, Kabbalat Shabbat, and pop-music. Enjoy!

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The Scariest Shabbat of my Life

This is a note I have dreaded having to write when I decided to spend some time living in Israel. But as I am sure you are aware there has been an escalation of violence in the region. I want to let you know that I am safe and also to share with you what was potentially the scariest experience of my life.

On Friday night I arrived at synagogue just on time to start the service. The beautiful melodies were comforting after an intense week of hiking in the desert and hearing the news of the renewed tension between Israel and Gaza resulting in three Israeli fatalities and 35 Palestinian deaths. I was fully aware that rockets had hit further than their normal range and sirens had been sounded in Tel Aviv. However, living in Jerusalem like the rest of the city I felt completely out of harms way. After all, why would rockets be fired into the religious capital for Jews and Muslims alike? I had gone to Shul wanting to find the words to pray for peace and healing for those hurt in the crossfire.

The congregation was singing the opening prayers when we heard the first siren. There was a silence in the room and everyone froze and looked at each other. There was a collective gasp as we began to make sense of what was happening. I felt my whole body go rigid in the moment that the conflict became a living reality for me. I was unprepared experience anything like this. The Shilach Tzbor ( service leader) turned their head to look outside and then continued with the prayers. 30 seconds later the siren went off again. We left the room and headed downstairs to the bomb shelter.

After a while the service resumed. This time everyone in the synagogue was singing with what I can with even greater spirit and power. It was the embodiment of the typical Israeli attitude that ‘life must go on’. Shabbat still needed to be celebrated even with bomb sirens going off. Witnessing this spiritual resistance was extremely powerful and I felt in awe of the bravery of the people in the room who were determined to continue. I for my part stood in the back of the room hyperventilating.

However, the optimism was short lived. After we finished the next psalm an announcement was made that a rocket had hit the south of the city, groups of 50 plus should disband- we all went home.

The contrast between the beauty of the Friday night service which strives to celebrate the creation of the world and provides a taste of the peace and harmony of the world to come and the fear and violence that was aroused by hearing a bomb siren is sickening. The rocket was launched at a time when Hamas knew it would have the most psychological damage. Shabbat is a time when I feel safe and calm knowing that I am entering into a space where I focus my energy on on things that are important to me, family, Judaism and of course food! This week it was shattered by the threat of violence from terrorism.

Whilst this is the first time since 1991 that Jerusalem has been on the receiving end of rockets, unfortunately the rocket- retaliation cycle is not new. Israel and Gaza have been at constant loggerheads since the disengagement. It was only a few years ago that Operation Cast Lead took place with the intention to putting an end to the threat from Hamas. However we are now witnessing a new round to the violent cat and mouse game that Israel and Gaza are playing. The situation is complex to say the least, it is not black and white, goodies and baddies, David and Goliath. To be honest I do not care who started it and who was right and wrong. My hope and prayer is that both sides can stop kidding themselves that it can be resolved through violence. What is needed is to sit down and begin to map out a future for both states.

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My Spiritual High at Zorba

Do you ever feel like there is a cage around you? Like you can carry it around but sometimes it gets heavy and tires you down. Perhaps it restrains you from moving in a comfortable way or running to what you really desire. I hadn’t really thought of myself in a cage at all before going to Zorba, a Festival in an Ashram in the Negev. I was unaware of this weight and constraint. Unaware of the energy I was wasting on thoughts and worries and food that are toxic to my being.

The music was pounding and my heart beat was in sync as my arms flowed freely and I felt my feet discover new bumps on the desert ground. I was blindfolded from seeing the outside world and forced only to look inside. To feel the music pulsing through my body, to feel the tension of being nervous and shy, to feel my muscles tense when I felt maybe I would bump someone. I looked deep inside myself as if my thoughts were separate from my rhythmic body movements. That is when I felt it, I swear I could even see it. My cage was opened and my body and mind were free and relaxed. Tension turned into excitement. Stiff calculated movements flowed as if I had been moving this way since birth. We did this dance practice for an hour. During that hour of dancing in the dark I dug deep and felt completely open to my emotions, good and bad as they rushed around. After the music stopped and we laid on our backs looking towards the sky I felt freer than I have ever felt. I felt connected and light. This was the true start of my spiritual high at Zorba.

Let me rewind a bit. Zorba is a festival that is held twice a year. The Ashram Bmidbar (In the Negev) also has other weekend workshops. Naomi Zaslow and I had heard from students last year how amazing the festival was so we excitedly signed up to go over Sukkot. The ride down rt 90 along the Dead Sea was breath taking. We arrived at the Festival set up our tents and went to explore.

Laura (L) and Naomi (R) at Zorba.

The grounds consist of a multitude of tents which they call “Olamim,” worlds. There is a Yoga world, a rebirthing world, a Buddah stage, a healthy eating world, a mystical world and many more. All throughout the day and night you are free to decide which lessons to attend. I was lucky enough to attend two amazing sessions at the healthy eating tent where I took lessons on the benefits of adding more raw food to your diet as well as having a love relationship with your hunger and food. I also took a few free dancing and meditation sessions as I described in the beginning. These were probably the most impactful because the was no real language barrier with dancing and I was able to just let go and feel uninhibited in front of strangers. It was in the dance sessions and the chakra breathing that I discovered what it means to be spiritually high. Our body and mind does not need any substance to feel incredibly good and free. After some of these sessions I felt such intense changes of being recharged spiritually and energetically. I think it is sad that our society runs so fast to using substances to achieve this feeling when there are natural and healthy ways to achieve it.

Lately I have been struggling with the intense sadness of loss because of the passing of my Uncle. It has been physically painful for me to recite the mourners Kaddish with meaning. Sometimes I feel like it comes out robotically and on these days I am grateful because I didn’t have to feel. During a music meditation I had a breakthrough with the mourners Kaddish and tefillah in general. I was standing eyes closed breathing to the music when I had the urged to recite Mincha. Under my breath I went through the service as best as my memory served me. Pausing from traditional text in my head and switching to personal prayer with ease. I was so grateful of the baby steps I have been taking to make prayer meaningful so I would be able to experience such a reward. I came to the time where I would be saying Kaddish in a minyan. A release shot throughout my body as tears rolled down my face and I recited word by word with each breath the mourners Kaddish. Though I was only whispering and no one was answering me I felt as though I was in the presence of a minyan that was also connected to themselves and G-d. I felt the pain more intensely and real than I had expected. When I finished I was out of breath and my body felt like it had run a marathon. I laid on the ground and felt my heart beat against the ground, as it soothed me into a meditative state.

On Shabbat I felt so connected to myself and to Israel. Naomi and I sat in front of our tent dressed in white flowy dresses and lit Shabbat candles that we placed in the center of a rock heart pattern. As people passed, some completely unaware that Shabbat was upon us, we wished them a Shabbat Shalom. There warm smiles and returned wishes were beautiful. The majority of people at the festival were very secular Israelis, but we were all still Jews with a spiritual connection to something. Some people gathered together to make Kiddush and we swayed to drum beats of Shabbat zmirrot. That night I layed out in the desert and stared at the expansive sky. I felt like I was lying amongst my ancestors who wandered the Negev during Biblical times. It was almost like that part in the Lion King when Musafa tells Simba that they can see their ancestors in the stars if they just look hard enough. I felt that laying there open to feeling the energy of the ground I was able to connect with generations of Israelites.

I have so much more I would like to share about this amazing experience. If anyone is interesting in going I would love to talk to you. I see though that recharges like this festival are needed in our busy lives. This was an extreme example, camping for three days at an ashram. In smaller doses though I think even going alone to the park and sitting with yourself and your thoughts can give you the recharge we need in our lives. I hope to take the idea of balance, openness and energy from my experience at Zorba.

I hope everyone had a very Happy Sukkot vacation and I look forward to dancing forward in life with you all.

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Radical amazement on Pardes’ end-of-year Shabbaton

 
 
This past Shabbat Pardes had a tiyul and Shabbaton to the Galil. Prior to the tiyul, while briefly skimming the itinerary, I imagined that this Shabbaton would be the same as every Shabbaton I have been on since middle school. Hike, daven, eat, daven, eat, eat, daven.
 
Though I was excited, I certainly did not expect anything extraordinary.  In retrospect, suggesting that the weekend surpassed all of my expectations would be an egregious understatement.
 
What made this Shabbaton so unique was not its itinerary; Continue reading
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[Student Profile] Kyle Lebell

Kyle was raised in Berkeley, CA to a father who had rejected his Jesuit upbringing and faith altogether, but remained knowledgeable through his work as a publisher of religious books, and a Jewish mother who did not have a strong traditional upbringing.  While Judaism as such did not play a positive, central role in her early life, God and spirituality certainly did.  Her mother taught her the Shma as a blessing to allay her fears, and she still instinctively recites it when appropriate.

Attending bi-weekly Hebrew school a half-hour drive away from home during her primary school years, Kyle felt that: “Judaism was a building I attended Hebrew school in.”  Nevertheless, her mother did not abandon the hope that Judaism would play a central part in Kyle’s life, and her efforts paid off.

While attending a private high school — education was and continues to be one of the highest values in the household — Kyle participated in the New Jewish Film Project, bringing together Jewish high school students from the Bay Area to create a film to be shown at the San Francisco Jewish Film Festival in the summer of 2002.  They created a documentary, Not Another Jewish Movie, about what it was like growing up Jewish in the Bay Area, and it was screened widely. Continue reading

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A Shabbat in Hevron

About a month and a half ago, I went to Hevron for Shabbat with a few Pardesniks to visit a fellow student’s wife’s family. His wife actually grew up in Hevron; and her parents still live there today. I was very grateful for the family’s generosity and hospitality, and for the chance they gave me to experience Hevron via something other than a quick tour. The following is my account of some of the moments that stood out for me about the weekend.

On Friday evening, we went to kabbalat Shabbat services at what they call “the Me’arah” (otherwise known as the Cave of Machpelah). It’s not really much of a cave – more of a big shrine sort of building with “graves” of matriarchs/patriarchs labeled. There are like 4 simultaneous kabbalat Shabbat minyanim there, but the one we attended seemed to be the largest and was held in this big, cavernous, freezing cold space. It was a mechitza minyan, of course – I’ve gotten used to that by now – but unlike the orthodox minyanim I tend to frequent in Jerusalem, Continue reading

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