It's delightful, it's delicious, it's dlevy!
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While packing I found a CD copy of this, an oratorio based on the book of Exodus featuring William Shatner. According to the label, “This collection is a MUST HAVE for Shatner’s legions of fans as well as people interested in inspirational recordings, classical music and Biblical literature.”
You’re welcome, Price.
This morning I opened up my RSS reader and was delightfully surprised to find a piece I wrote several years ago about the biblical characters of Jacob & Esau and the queer debate over nature vs. nurture has been republished on Keshet’s blog on MyJewishLearning.com. Check it out.
![Fathers and Sons: A Special Blessing
Each year, as Fathers Day approaches on the secular calendar, I find myself thinking about the traditional Jewish blessing fathers bestow on their sons. This tradition has its roots in a scene towards the end of the book of Genesis, in which Jacob says from his deathbed:
By you shall Israel invoke blessings, saying: “May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” (Genesis 48:20)
Every Shabbat evening, Jews around the world bless their sons with the words “May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh,” fulfilling Jacob’s deathbed pronouncement from the end of the book of Genesis. I did not grow up with this particular tradition in my family, so when I learned about it, a question immediately sprang to mind: what’s so special about Ephraim and Manasseh that we pray to make our children like them? [Read more at JewishBoston.com]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5q9vsrFLc1qg25kno1_500.jpg)
Fathers and Sons: A Special Blessing
Each year, as Fathers Day approaches on the secular calendar, I find myself thinking about the traditional Jewish blessing fathers bestow on their sons. This tradition has its roots in a scene towards the end of the book of Genesis, in which Jacob says from his deathbed:
By you shall Israel invoke blessings, saying: “May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” (Genesis 48:20)
Every Shabbat evening, Jews around the world bless their sons with the words “May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh,” fulfilling Jacob’s deathbed pronouncement from the end of the book of Genesis. I did not grow up with this particular tradition in my family, so when I learned about it, a question immediately sprang to mind: what’s so special about Ephraim and Manasseh that we pray to make our children like them? [Read more at JewishBoston.com]
Continuing my weeks-long Gershwin kick, I was excited to see that Spotify now has a recording of Ethel Merman singing “Sam and Delilah,” which she introduced in Girl Crazy, a recording that combines three of my general obsessions: the Gershwins, Ethel Merman, and showtunes based on Bible stories.
From ASK A RABBI: Every year one of my cousins tries to derail the seder by insisting that the story of the Exodus never happened so we shouldn’t talk about it like history. How can I turn this into a productive discussion at the seder?
(Answered by Rabbi Carl Perkins of Temple Aliyah, Needham, MA… and his answer might surprise you…)
Okay, hate is probably a strong word, but I lost faith in her sometime back in my youth when I saw this performance on Sesame Street. I appreciate the message that we should take pride in who we are, but how dare the former Marguerite Anne Johnson sing a song about how proud she is that her name is Maya and she’s not going to change it. She already changed it! If this was a Sesame Street lesson in irony, then fine, but instead it came across to me as a lesson in hypocrisy. Names are important. There’s nothing wrong with changing one’s name, and in fact, that can be an incredibly important and powerful way of affirming identity. Marguerite-cum-Maya should understand that better than most. I’d argue the Torah understands that even better.
Any respectable bible begins at the beginning. But in this one, the Garden of Eden is replaced by Isaac Newton’s garden, and the apple that denotes the downfall of man is replaced by the apple that drops on Newton’s head. The Good Book, an ambitious 597-page volume written by philosopher A.C. Grayling, is a bible without God, with humanism taking the place of religion. Keep reading …
(Image by Keith Greiman)
I don’t know that I’d have any more patience to read this cover to cover than I’ve had trying to do that with the Bible, but I’m certainly interested in trying.
In August, I’ll be leading a workshop at the National Havurah Committee Summer Institute called “More Than Fiddler: Jewish Showtunes You Might Not Know.”
Here’s a sample. “Mene Mene Tekel” by Harold Rome, from Pins and Needles, is drawn from the biblical book of Daniel.
