Here is the tension. Some rabbis write before an event about what the holiday or the Shabbat will be like. This is a good method because it can help promote it. It can provide some spiritual nourishment or insight, intellectual or scholarly growth before hand to help people understand.

Some rabbis write after the event is over. That is usually me. Recently I haven’t had time to do either. I have been too busy leading this authentically Jewish life. So I will be going back over the last month and trying to recapture what I have learned along the way. Maybe it will help your own journey.

This past weekend was a very busy weekend in our congregation. We celebrated Shabbat, both Friday night and Saturday morning. We hosted a tikkun leil Shavuot beginning with havdalah and traditional Shavuot wedding followed by a study session. On Monday, we had a second morning Yizkor service. In each case, even though it was a holiday weekend, we had more than a minyan. And while I am happy to keep my streak alive, there is more to it than that. Much more. Each of the events were spiritually uplifting. For me. And I hope for the congregation as well.

Then my husband and I went to Starved Rock. It was designed as a congregational trip but people were nervous about the weather. It turned out lovely and we did read the 10 Commandments out loud on top of a bluff. Our own version of Sinai. And I am reminded that Moses went up the Mountain alone. At least I had Simon!

For seven weeks, we have dutifully counted the Omer. And yes, lo and behold, the winter wheat headed out just in time and we have grain. It looked so beautiful next to the white roses decorating the sanctuary for Shavuot.

While we have been counting and reading Rabbi Karen Kedar’s book specifically about counting the omer, there were two other study projects going on, to mark the days. Some of us read Pirke Avot on Saturday afternoons. We used the edition that appears in Siddur Sim Shalom. For edification, we looked at Rabbis Larry Kravitz and Kerry Olitzky’s translation, an ArtScroll one and a Christian one as well. The conversations were rich. Each and every week. This is why we study in partners, in chevruta. It deepens the connections and I know I saw things I never noticed before. I am sure that is true for everyone, whether they attended all eight sessions or they participated once. And thus, again, we built community. In the process we became friends. Verse by verse. Chapter by chapter.

I also spent time studying Rabbi Amy Eilberg’s book From Enemy to Friend about her journey as a peace builder. Each week, I studied faithfully, with my colleague from Streamwood. Rabbi Steven Peskind helped me see the levels of the text in a whole new way. He taught me that the book was relevant for the socio-political realm, the interpersonal realm, the synagogue board or work level and as individuals living out “Seek peace and pursue it,” in our homes and in another place. And while Rabbi Eilberg has interspersed her own stories within the narrative, I felt like she and I were leading parallel lives. Undoubtedly, that could be another (long) blog post.

The book was so powerful—and many of the texts were drawn from Pirke Avot—that I took her choice of texts and turned it into the study session for Shavuot. I divided the Jewish text readings into four groups and gave each group study questions to guide their thinking. Each group had some Bible, some rabbinic material, some medieval or kabbalistic commentary and something modern. To show again that our tradition is layered and varied. That the tradition welcomes diversity. Each group wrestled with the text and shared their own stories and questions about peace building. The process worked better than my wildest expectations. And in the process as the conversations deepened so too did the friendships. That too is probably a separate post.

The synagogue looked beautiful when people arrived. Chuppah raised. Ketubah framed. Roses and wheat spotlight. Ark open with the Torahs gleaming. Candles flickering. It seemed like the idyllic completion. Words and even the few photos don’t capture it.

Several things occurred to me while doing all this. While Passover seems like it just happened, there was also an expansiveness of time. We each made every day and every week count. That point was made clear when I was in Washington for the American Jewish World Service Policy Summit. Our days count. Our voices count. Our actions count.

So for me, this was a time of leading a uniquely, authentically Jewish life for me. The teaching of Rabbi Jonathan Slater at the Chicago Board of Rabbis meeting helped me to see that. As did Rabbi Amy Eilberg’s words. Both were quoting Talmud. Elu v’elu, these and these are both the words of the living G-d. All of these readings were connected, leading to that more varied reading. Each shed light on the others. Each created more mindfulness, more intentionality, more meaning. None of it happens in a vacuum.

But how does this work in a community that embraces diversity. How is it possible that both are right? I am reminded of Tevye who said famously, “On the one hand you are right. On the other hand you are right.” And when someone pointed out that they both can’t be right, he responded, “You are also right.”

In my little community, we have people who stand for every Kaddish, whether they are standing at that point in the service or not. We have some who will not break the flow of their davvening to stand if they are seated. For them it would break their concentration. Both responses are correct and we allow for both positions. For them, that is each their Torah.

And that is part of Judaism too. Each of us has our own unique Torah from within the Jewish tradition. Each of us writes the Torah of our lives.

I learned much in these seven weeks.

• I learned, as I watched eagles nesting on West Bartlett Road that I want to soar like an eagle. And run like a deer (or like Caleb!).
• I learned that fear prevents peace. So if we can diminish fear, we can achieve peace. Eventually. And that is too simple.
• I learned that sometimes we do a great deal of preparation for something, for maybe not a lot of people. But the preparation we do is never wasted because it is often for ourselves, for our own inner core.
• I learned about the paradox between contemplation and action. It is not an either or choice. We need both. And one or the other is not bad. And it is impossible to fit a round peg into a square hole.
• I learned that our voices and our actions count, as we numbered our days and made each day count.
• I learned that grain really does become grain by Shavuot. And that it is helpful to have a little faith.

It was a rich seven weeks, with lots of intensity and growth, just like the Omer offering.

There is a tension about writing. Writing before or writing after. Writing Torah for the community or writing my own unique Torah. There is a project that did not get done—the file didn’t even get opened during all the seven weeks of the Omer. That file is the shell of the next book that is done. That file is the Torah of my life. It is time to begin to edit that. Maybe it will be finished by Rosh Hashanah. It is a good goal.