Havdalah is a short service performed in the very narrow space that separates the holiness of Shabbat from the ordinariness of the rest of the week. The service calls us to be totally present, using all of our senses.

Summer is coming soon, and it’s all I can think about this Shabbat, when I am at home in D.C., dreaming of Massachusetts. Because out of all of the things I love about camp, it’s possible I love Shabbat the most. And as my countdown ticks down, my excitement riles up.

The bimah is the heart of a temple's sanctuary – a gathering place for life cycle events, the focus of our High Holiday worship rituals, and the site that draws us together when we seek comfort from pain.

In 2007, I was diagnosed with primary progressive multiple sclerosis. In my case, it has lived up to its name, and has progressively weakened my body from the waist down, leaving me wheelchair bound. With the loss of my mobility, I also lost the ability to be called for an aliyah, to see the open Torah scroll, to participate in Selichot services, and to join with family and friends for birthday and anniversary blessings. For those of us unable to be on the bimah because of a physical disability, it is easy to feel left out of the Jewish community.

During this journey, I’ve been asked: “Why?” In Judaism, I found meaningful rituals and a history of peoplehood that I have taken on as my own. From the time I left the Christian church, I sought a spiritual home – a place of tolerance and acceptance. In Judaism, I’ve found exactly that.

I recently traveled throughout Cuba with 16 congregants from Beth Emeth in Wilmington, DE. At each stop, as we engaged with the island’s history, its challenges, its people, and especially its Jewish communities, I was reminded of the story of Bonchi the Silent.

Most of us are looking for simple ways to re-center ourselves and our lives, and ReformJudaism.org's new weekly podcast is designed to help you do just that.

I’ve often been taught that as the people of Israel, named after our forefather, we are meant to struggle with God. It just never occurred to me that could include the struggle to remain upright.

I ask you, is this a sheyn punim (a pretty face)? I’ve been dying to say those words for the past four years, ever since I came to China to work as a teacher of oral English at Nanyang Normal University.

Sometime around my 50th birthday, I was hit by

In the midst of the water crisis here in Flint, MI, Shapiro’s Delicatessen of Indianapolis – purveyors of exceptional Jewish foods since 1905 – traveled 300 miles to deliver a “We stand with you” meal to Flint’s Jewish community on the last Shabbat in January.