June is the beginning of the 2013 Atlantic hurricane
season but this year, we have already had several disasters including the one in Moore, Oklahoma on May 20 to remind us of how
fragile our safety and security can be in an ever-changing world. Though every
disaster is traumatic and causes a lot of pain and suffering, disasters also
tend to bring out the best in humanity – particularly in drawing together
diverse groups toward the common cause of relief and recovery. Go
to any disaster scene yourself and ask people what their religion is and you
will find that people are doing what needs doing and not caring about the
differences.
I became a mother on a stormy Mother’s Day in the year 2000. My labor may have been induced by an infection
and accompanying fever. And what a labor
it was! The sun rose and set. Nurses came and went. By the time my son was
born, I barely knew my name, let alone the day. But it was Mother’s Day, and
everyone made quite a fuss about that. In my post-partum haze, I thought it was
strange, if sweet, to focus on this seemingly superfluous detail. Nothing could
have made me any happier or more relieved than I already was. In the hours just
after my son was born, my thoughts centered on physical wellbeing, not the
larger meaning of the moment.
A couple of months ago an Women’s Interfaith Discussion
Group met to discuss common misconceptions people have about other religions.
Besides walking away with much more respect for other religions and the amazing
women in that group, I think we all agreed that for the most part we don’t know
squat about anybody else’s religion. Not really. We tend to lump everyone into
large stereotypical groups with not much more than media, hearsay, and
Hollywood to back any of our claims. 
I sometimes preach a sermon entitled “The Four Little Candles.”
The author of the original story is unknown. In it I tell the story of four
little candles that were burning softly and quietly. Listening closely
you can hear them speak. The first little candle is peace. Lamenting that the
world no longer wants to try and keep the peace the candle becomes tired and
slowly goes out. The second little candle, faith, cries for a world that finds
faith superfluous and unnecessary. A gentle breeze comes along and blows out
the little flame of faith. Love, the third little candle angrily huffs that
people don’t even know how to love the ones that love them, much less someone
else. Suddenly, the candle ceases to burn. 
“Music washes away from the
soul the dust of everyday life,” said German novelist Berthold Auerbach (1812-1882). In the early years of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints, Emma Smith, the wife of Joseph Smith, was asked to compile a
book of hymns for the new church. What I love about this story is that while
some new hymns were written more than half were selected from hymns already
being used by other churches. I love the fact that, for at least some other
Christian churches, we are still singing many of the very same hymns. While
some of our doctrine may differ we share a deep connection with the music of
faith and I feel a deeper sense of connection with other religions.
Among the top ten things you do not want to hear coming
out of your Jewish child’s mouth is, "Mom, who killed Jesus?" I will always remember the moment I heard those
words. They came from my then five-year
old son as he was sitting at the kitchen table in our home in Austin, TX. It was the week of Passover, which coincides
with Easter, and because we do not eat pasta or bread or anything with a grain
that has risen, he was eating the staple of the Passover diet: a hard-boiled
egg. It was actually the millionth
hard-boiled egg of the day, and as I stood there at the sink, my back to him,
peeling potatoes I was worrying about his cholesterol level and asking myself
if that was something you should be concerned about in a five year. And then, out of the blue I heard from behind
me, "Mom, who killed Jesus?"
February 1st was World Hijab Day. For those of you who
might not know, hijab is the head covering worn by some Muslim women. The idea
was to invite women who do not hijab, both Muslim and women of other faiths, to
wear the covering for one day to increase awareness and understanding. Many,
perhaps most, were completely unaware of the day. 
February 1, 2013 marked the first World Hijab Day, a day organized by New Yorker Nazma Khan to allow women to experience the hijab firsthand. Citing discrimination from Muslims and non-Muslims alike, she conceived of the idea so that those who have never worn hijab themselves could walk in the shoes of women who have.
As a rabbi I have done my fair share of
invocations and benedictions for community events, interfaith gatherings and
organizational meetings. I think of it
as the biggest bang for your buck when it comes to interfaith relations. Coming from the liberal east coast circles
where I was raised, being a female rabbi is not all that interesting but it’s a
different story down here. There are a
surprising number of people I meet who know very little about Judaism and even
fewer who are aware that there are female rabbis.