My son and I sit across from each other at the dinner table over candlelight and quiche. Pushing two fingers together, I flick dry crusty bread crumbs off my placemat from lunch while we wait for curls of steam to evaporate. Under socked feet, I feel vagrant leaves from the garden on the cold wood …
Reclaiming Sabbath Keeping
When I was ten years old, my family moved into a neighborhood with a Jewish synagogue two blocks from our house. Each week, on Saturday, our streets filled with cars and those cars carried faithful, orthodox Jewish worshipers who drove to our neighborhood so they could walk to worship. It was …