Ta Shma

At Sinai, people hear God’s voice. But a Midrash records that what they were most impressed by a glimpse of the entire community of the angels in heaven, and the way that the angels were arranged. What could possibly have been so moving about the angels' formations?“Mitteler Rebbe,” "Ki Anu Amecha," and “Nigun Hisva'adus” from RAZA Kapelya (2023) by Chana Raskin. Produced by Joey Weisenberg and Chana Raskin for Hadar’s Rising Song Records.

The Torah signals to us from the start that words have great power.  A book that opens with an account of a world created through divine speech acts reveals its own interest in the creative possibilities of language.  So we can expect this text to choose its words carefully, deliberately. We might not, however, have expected the extent to which the Torah is willing to manipulate the other features and forms of language in order to communicate ideas.

At the end of the day, or perhaps at the end of the Jewish calendar year, am I actually a better person as a result of the many hours given over each year to Torah study? Or, am I the same person I was before, just another year older?

In our prayers, we often call God “ברוך - blessed.”  What images might this word evoke, and how might it deepen our connection to God, the source of blessings?

For much of our lives we are unable to receive or offer the holding and embracing that we need. Sukkot is yhe holiday that invites us to pause—to hold and to be held.

The search for God will span a lifetime. But once a year the dynamic is different. If Judaism offers up life as a giant game of hide and seek with the Holy One, Yom Kippur is the one day when God doesn't hide. The game is paused, and God emerges in search of us.

The idea that God can revive the dead became central to our prayers and Jewish theology in general.  But what does this “resurrection” entail?  Do we have to take it literally, or can we understand it in a more metaphorical way?  And what do we lose without the literal meaning?

There is a halakhic obligation to eat on the day before Yom Kippur. What is the nature of this obligation? Where does it come from? What can it teach us about the meaning of Yom Kippur itself and the process of Teshuvah? Recorded for Hadar's onliene yom iyyun on Erev Yom Kippur 5789.

Akeidat Yitzhak, the Torah reading for the second day of Rosh Hashanah, is usually seen as the ultimate Jewish model of personal sacrifice. But is willingness to die for God really the epitome of sacrifice? In this session, R. Tali Adler  explores a midrash that questions Akeidat Yitzhak's role as the central model of personal sacrifice, and offers a story about Rachel our Matriarch as an alternative.

How are we meant to begin the process of teshuvah, returning to God?  Is this something we initiate, or does God help us to begin?  Or perhaps it is some combination?  How is this process understood in the Torah and in our Amidah?