Jewish Camp is a valuable way for interfaith families to learn and share in the joy of Judaism in a comfortable, fun and meaningful environment. See which camps identify as welcoming to interfaith families.
Connecting Interfaith Families to Jewish Life in Greater Cleveland by providing programs and opportunities for interfaith families to experience Judaism in a variety of venues, meet other interfaith families, and to connect to other Jewish organizations that may serve their needs.
This is an interactive, fun, and low-key workshop for couples who are dating, engaged or recently married. The sessions will give you a chance to ask questions about faith, to think about where you are as an adult with your own spirituality and to talk through what's important to you and your partner.
A great way for Jewish professionals and volunteers who work with and provide programming for people in interfaith relationships to locate resources and trainings to build more welcome into their Jewish communities; connect with and learn from each other; and publicize and enhance their programs and services.
This post originally appeared on PJ LibraryÂ and is reprinted with permission.
Chances are, your preschooler isnâ€™t an expert onÂ Rosh HashanahÂ celebrations (theyâ€™ve only been alive for a few of them so far). You may not be an expert on Rosh Hashanah either, and if the holiday is new to you, youâ€™re likely learning alongside your little one. Thereâ€™s no time like the present for you both to learn about the traditions that make Rosh Hashanah so special!
Between learning the colors and practicing how to write their own names, preschoolersâ€™ days are filled with learning â€“ and that learning wonâ€™t stop during Rosh Hashanah. The Jewish New Year itself has a lot of traditions for you to learn about together, such as why you dip apples in honey, blow theÂ shofar and bake round challah.
Get acquainted with Rosh Hashanah as a family using these amazing books, all of which are perfect for the preschool age!
With simple text, this book explains symbols and customs of Rosh Hashanah by comparing a child’s birthday celebration with the rituals of the Jewish New Year. A birthday cake or honey-dipped apples and a shofar or party horns are just two of the comparisons.
Beni loves getting together with family on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year — if only it werenâ€™t for his mischievous cousin, Max. Max is making trouble for everyone! But Grandpa has a few words of wisdom about starting off the New Year right.
With Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, just around the corner, Little Red Rosie wants to make a round challah to celebrate the holiday. Who will help her make the challahâ€”and then eat it? You might be surprised!
Hearing the shofar is an exciting experience for children. After beginning with this important holiday tradition, the author then introduces dipping apples in honey, making greeting cards and baking round challah.
One of the biggest challenges for me as an interfaith spouse and parent has been learning to think ahead about holidays that arenâ€™t part of my own internalÂ calendar. Iâ€™m used to many things that return with fallâ€™s cooler temperatures: school schedules, extra-curricular activities, busy lives. Pumpkins, squash, and apples appear at stores and farmersâ€™ markets, and, as a lover of sweater-weather, I look forward to cooler temperatures.
What Iâ€™m not used to anticipating is a major holiday season right at this major turning point in the year. This forgetfulness remains regrettably true even after more than a decade of having an interfaith partner. I still forget that he might take a day off on Rosh Hashanah (and Iâ€™m still surprised when he, despite being Jewish from birth, forgets to think ahead about it, too).
Eventually, I get used to the rhythm of fall. School starts, schedules become chaotic, but by the time Halloween and Thanksgiving roll around, the â€śnewâ€ť schedule is old-hat, and Iâ€™m good and ready to begin planning for the craziness of December. Itâ€™s not easy, but Iâ€™m used to the idea of thinking about a Thanksgiving menu or winter holiday shopping on top of all the regular chaos.
The New Year, thoughâ€”the Jewish New Yearâ€”surprises me every time. Itâ€™s getting better. Iâ€™m learning to think ahead.Â I know, for example, that weâ€™ll have time this Sunday to watch the football game and bake a round loaf of challah in the process.
My first daughter was born around the time of Rosh Hashanah. That year, I ate apples and honey while still in the recovery room.Â Now that sheâ€™s turning six, she knows that the return of fall means not just school starting again, but also her birthday, which comes with cakeâ€”and apples and honey. Sheâ€™s already planning to bring apples and honey in to share with her classmates, so perhaps planning ahead for Rosh Hashanah and the High Holidays wonâ€™t be such a jolt to her internal calendar as it remains for mine.
Perhaps itâ€™s the doubleÂ whammy of the new school year and a childâ€™s birthday to plan (often baking a cake at home, as well as healthier treats for her classmates at school, not to mention planning a party) that makes fitting in a major holiday season that much more challenging to remember, to plan for.
Somehow, we find a way to get it done. It feels haphazard, but somehow, our daughter has a party, has her cake, has her treats for her friendsâ€”both for Rosh Hashanah and her birthday. We look for, and usually choose, child-friendly Rosh Hashanah services to attend. We remember to check our stock of apples and honey. My spouse forgets which apple-and-honey cake heâ€™s baked in the past, so he looks through cookbooks and websites, trying to choose one, but eventually he does, and the cake is delicious, sweet, subtly spiced, another taste of fall.
Iâ€™m ready for fall, for a birthday, for Rosh Hashanahâ€”but Iâ€™m still not sure what weâ€™ll do for Yom Kippur this year. By the time the Day of Atonement rolls around 10 days later, Iâ€™m sure weâ€™ll have that figured out, as well.
Has anyone else had this trouble gearing up for the holidays because they did not grow up with them, or just because they always seem to occur before we’ve come out of our summer haze?
A lesson on caring for our world before a park cleanup made me realize I wasn't doing all I could to fulfill my responsibility to be a guardian of the earth.
If youâ€™ve read some of my blogs related to Sukkot and Tu Bishvat or articles in the InterfaithFamily article archive, you know that the environment is an issue that my family and I care deeply about. We have an organic vegetable garden, use earth-friendly cleaning products and buy local meats and produce whenever possible. We keep our house warm in the summer and cool in the winter, and support environmental organizations such as Jewish National Fund. I drive a small hybrid car and like any good tree-hugger, my favorite shoes are an old pair of Birkenstock sandals that I occasionally wear with socks in the winter.
Given our passion for the environment, you can imagine how excited we were when we learned that the family mitzvah project for our son Sammyâ€™s religious school class was a park clean up at White Rock Lake. White Rock Lake is the Central Park of Dallas.
The morning of the event, we grabbed our yard gloves and bug spray, and headed to our synagogue to meet our group. Before we left for the park, one of our rabbis led us in a discussion about our responsibility as Jews for caring for the earth. After discussing some Jewish texts, she asked the kids to share what they would do if they saw trash on the ground. They all said that they would pick it up and throw it away.
Then she asked if they would pick up the trash if it were gooey and dirty. Most children still said yes because they would have a nabber-grabber or plastic bag with them to use to grab the sticky garbage. These kids were not going to admit easily that there were times that they might not pick up trash. The rabbi then asked what they would do if they didnâ€™t have nabber-grabbers or bags.
Knowing that there is often a contrast between what people say about themselves and actual behavior, the rabbi shared a story about herself. She talked about how when she walks her dog in her neighborhood she often sees garbage along the side of the road. She tries always to pick it up, but sometimes she doesnâ€™t. Sometimes she walks past the sticky Gatorade bottle even though she knows she shouldnâ€™t.
After her story, we headed to the park. I parked my Prius next to my rabbiâ€™s. As we were walking to get our cleanup instructions and materials, I told her that I was also guilty of not always picking up the trash I see when I walk our dog.
I explained that while I have the best intentions if the dog hasnâ€™t gone to the bathroom, I worry that I wonâ€™t have enough bags to clean up his waste. I tell myself that Iâ€™ll pick up the garbage after he goes when weâ€™re on our way home, but often we donâ€™t walk the same way. I feel bad when I do this, but I do it anyway.
Admitting my own lapses in environmental stewardship was easier after hearing someone that has moral authority admit that they make the same mistake. As I confessed, my rabbi nodded in understanding and I realized that others shared the moral dilemmas of dog walking.
As we worked to clean up the park, I thought about the morningâ€™s discussion. I knew I could and should do more to live my earth-loving values and picking up trash when walking the dog was an easy way to do it. I resolved to increase the frequency of my trash pick up.
Later in the day, I shared my resolution with Sammy. I thought it was a good opportunity to model the concept of teshuva, repentance. I even explained the action I would take to meet my goal of increased garbage pick up: bring more bags to ensure that I had enough for garbage and poop.
Sammy thought my plan was good but asked if I was going to separate recyclables. â€śItâ€™s better to recycle if you can,â€ť he said. And what about dog waste that other owners neglected to pick up, he asked, â€śAre you going to clean up that too?â€ť
Walking the dog was becoming more morally complicated by the minute. I thought this must be why people walk by garbage and dog poopâ€“there are too many ethical decisions to consider.
But I didnâ€™t want too many moral choices to stop me from fulfilling my responsibility to be a shomrei adamah, guardian of the earth. So, I decided to keep it simple. Separate trash from recyclables when possible; otherwise place it all in the trash and pick up dog waste if I had enough bags. Focus on maximizing the amount of garbage I pick up.
Three weeks into the implementation of my resolution, Iâ€™m happy to report that I have increased the frequency of trash pickup when I walk our dog. Iâ€™m not perfect, but my goal is improvement not perfection. And that is exactly what Judaism asks of us.
It doesn’t ask us to be perfect; it simply asks us to commit and work to change our behavior in order to live more responsible and humane lives. As we move from the season of atonement into the season of rejoicing, my trash pick plan is, in a small way, helping me to do that. And thatâ€™s worth celebrating.
When Sammy was little, everything about being Jewish and celebrating Jewish holidays was â€śawesome.â€ť His love of all things Jewish stemmed, in part, from his loving and joyful experience at the preschool at our synagogue. It also came from a conscience effort made by me and Cameron to make religious engagement enjoyable.
As I wrote in Rosh Hashanah Party for the New Year, Cameron and I felt that when we were children faith was more serious than fun. We believed that this more formal approach to religion was one reason many in our generation were less religiously engaged as adults. In my own family, I had siblings and relativesâ€“inmarried and intermarriedâ€“who celebrated Jewish holidays because they felt obligated to; not because they found them meaningful or fulfilling.
We wanted Sammy to have a different relationship with faith. We wanted him to see the joy in Judaism, so we tried to create fun and memorable celebrations. These holiday observances had a strong community component in order to help nurture Sammyâ€™s connection to Judaism and the Jewish people.
When Sammy was in preschool, we decided to host a Jewish New Year party. We created a carnival-like atmosphere in our backyard for Sammy and our friendsâ€™ families to enjoy. We had games and holiday crafts and apple and honey-themed treats.
We had an apple beanbag toss, a kid-safe version of bobbing for apples using Nabber Grabbers, and a Pin the Apple in the Tree game. There were Rosh Hashanah-themed coloring pages, a Design Your Own Apple Tree craft, and apple-shaped cookies to decorate. It was a lot of work, but it was, in the words of my then-preschooler, â€śawesome.â€ť Our friends and their kids also loved it; so much so, that we decided to make it an annual event.
After several years of our Rosh Hashanah backyard carnival, Sammy and his friends outgrew the crafts and games. Our party had become too babyish. When Sammy told me this, I was a little shocked. He was still my little boy. Wasnâ€™t it just yesterday that he stopped wearing diapers? How could he be too old for coloring pages and the beanbag toss?
However, the fact was that he stopped wearing diapers four years earlier, and sports were now much cooler than Pin the Apple in the Tree. Sammy asked if we could replace the little kids stuff with gaga. Gaga is an Israeli variation of dodgeball that is played in an octagonal or hexagonal shaped pit and is popular at US Jewish summer camps and day schools.
So, in order to maintain the awesomeness of our Rosh Hashanah party, we turned our backyard into a gaga pit. Doing it was a real sign of Cameronâ€™s love for me and Sammy. Cameron derives much pleasure from working in the yard, and he sacrificed his grass for his Jewish family. I could tell that it took a lot of emotional energy for him to remain calm as he watched the lawn disappear inside the large space we used for the pit.
Once we established gaga as the party activity, I thought we had found a way for the tradition to grow with the kids, but Sammy and his friends were one step ahead of us on the coolness ladder. Last year we were told that gaga was out (Cameron was thrilled!), and choose your own adventure (or activity) was in. We adapted again.
We moved the party to a park in our neighborhood and invited our friends for coffee, juice and sweet (in honor of the New Year) breakfast treats. Some families brought their dogs and others brought balls. The kids played Frisbee, basketball, baseball and other games they invented; the adults spent time catching up.
The celebration wasâ€¦awesome, and it was about what it has always been about: sharing the holiday with our community, creating happy Jewish memories for our family and friends, and helping Sammy and his friends learn to associate observance with fun and enjoyment, rather than simply obligation.
When we host our annual Jewish New Year celebration this weekend, it will again follow the freedom-to-do-what-you-want model, and I imagine that we will stick with this format for a while now that Sammy is moving into the tween years. But then again, it might change. If Iâ€™ve become hip to anything over the past few years, itâ€™s that we must evolve to remain awesome. Just as we sometimes need to rethink our celebrations in order to keep them relevant to the next generation.