fbpx
Category

Torah

Finding the Adult Within

\”So, tell me, what are you looking for in awoman?\” I ask.
\”Someone kind and gentle, intelligent, educated,cultured, witty, fun, a professional, independent, but interested intraditional things, Jewish, haimish, warm, family-oriented…andthin, tall, attractive, blond, well-dressed.\” He continues, but Irealize already that I know him. He\’s my 3-year old. The open mouthof the infant: \”I want, I want, I want.\”

I know what he wants: a Playboy playmate who willadore him, cook like his mother but make no demands on hissoul.

He isn\’t alone. He belongs to a whole culture ofchildishness.

‘What’s the Meaning of Life ?’

Love answering children\’s questions. I\’ll visit a classroom and face an eager chorus of \”DidGod create dinosaurs?\” and \”Where do people go when they die?\” Then,at the end, there\’s always one wise guy, who smirks and asks, \”What\’sthe meaning of life?\” I love that kid. I admire his chutzpah, and Ilove the question.

A Warning to Revolutionaries

Once, I was a revolutionary. I belonged to the generation of long hair and crazy ideas. We did more than invent rock music and protest an unjust war. We believed that we could create a new society, populated by new people — people freed of the prejudices and life-choking rigidities of the past. We believed that we could change the world, and bring greening to America.
America did change. But our dream went unfulfilled.

Follow the Leader

A yeshiva outgrew its downtown quarters and moved to the former site of an upstate boys\’ academy. Finding a boathouse on the property, the Rosh Yeshiva called in one of the rabbis and ordered him to organize a rowing team.

The Spiritual Tourist

My neighbors completed an around-the-world trip. It was their dream, the trip of a lifetime. When we gathered to welcome them home, they eagerly described the journey\’s highlights — the Sheraton in Bangkok, the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Beijing, a Clint Eastwood film in a Calcutta theater, Budweiser in Holland and Kellogg\’s Corn Flakes in Great Britain.

Alligators Under

I learned most of my theology not from my teachers but from my children. When my daughter, Nessa, was 3 years old, we had a routine. Each night, I would tuck her into bed, sing our bedtime prayers, kiss her good night and attempt to sneak out of the room. Halfway down the hall, she began to scream, \”Abba!\” An avid reader of Parents magazine, the Torah of parenting, I knew what to do: I walked back to the child\’s room and turned on every light. I looked under the bed. \”No alligator, Nessa.\” I checked the closet. \”No monsters, Nessa.\” I surveyed the ceiling. \”No spiders, Nessa. Now go to bed. Tomorrow is coming, and you\’ve got to get to sleep,\” I\’d say. \”Everything is safe. Good night.\” \”OK, Abba,\” she said, \”but leave the light on.\”

Torah Portion

Because of our sins were we exiled from our land, and displaced far from our soil.\”

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.