If you’ve visited an early childhood classroom, you know the excitement that comes when a child finds out their assigned job for the rest of the day. These little learners love responsibility, which means that they’ll gladly take on any role they’re given because it is theirs and theirs alone for the day.
D'var from Friday, June 3rd - Rabbi David Kosak. Recorded and edited by Ed Kraus.
There’s something very magical in looking at your child for the first time – that first gaze at the human you created. Especially as a mother, I distinctly remember this moment. I was in awe of what my body could create. I studied every inch of my daughter’s body, her sweet ears that were uniquely shaped liked the letter E on the inside, her silvery eyes, the way her little feet sat together.
I write these words as we communally prepare to enter the last of our three festivals, Shavuot. Although it commemorates the giving of our holy Torah, Shavuot is one of the least observed of the major pilgrimage holidays. Different reasons are offered.
The forms of human communication can seem limitless. We communicate through dance and song, painting and photography, sermonizing and sitcoms. Our ancestors decorated their yokes and plows, as though to inform themselves and others of the sanctify of labor itself.
Ever since I went away to college, I have adopted a regular routine for adjusting to new environments. I’ve created a certain order and process for settling into a space that I would call my own. I first make sure I’m technically prepared, with electrical outlets where I need them so my various devices can work.
I was 19 when I first visited Egypt. I had taken a leave of absence from college to live in Israel. While at yeshivah earlier that year, I had met a Scandinavian Jew by choice, Dan Yerushalmi. We wanted to see the pyramids and I had saved enough money from my job as a waiter. After arranging for some vacation time, we were off.
