(This week’s Angel for Shabbat column is excerpted from my book, “Rhythms of Jewish Living,” chapter two.)

Jewish religious experience is intimately linked to the rhythms of the natural world. The rhythms of the sun and moon govern our times of prayer, our religious festivals, our meditation of the universe. The phenomena of nature evoke within us responses to the greatness of God, the Creator, and we recite blessings on witnessing the powers of nature.

Centuries of Westernization and urbanization have profoundly affected Jewish religious sensitivity. There has been a steady and increasing alienation between Jewish religious observance and the natural world, with a parallel diminution in sensing the awe of God as Creator of the natural universe.

Why were our Temples in ancient Jerusalem destroyed? Jewish tradition offers answers.

The first Temple was destroyed in 586 BCE by the Babylonians--because of the sins of the people of Israel. This is evident especially from the prophecies of Jeremiah. The Talmud notes that the Israelites of that period committed major sins. The destruction and exile were brought about "because of our sins."

The second Temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70CE. The Talmud suggests that the destruction was a punishment for the sin of "Sinat Hinam," Jews hating each other without justification.

My dear and respected friend, Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo, recently wrote an article about the "relocation" of God. Here is an excerpt from that article.

LET US ALL OFFER SPECIAL PRAYERS FOR THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL AT THIS VERY DANGEROUS TIME. MAY THE ALMIGHTY GRANT SAFETY, SECURITY AND STRENGTH TO THE STATE OF ISRAEL AND ALL ITS INHABITANTS. MAY THE ALMIGHTY GRANT ISRAEL A GENUINE PEACE, AND MAY HE BLESS ALL GOOD PEOPLE EVERYWHERE WHO STRIVE FOR PEACE AND UNDERSTANDING AMONG HUMANITY.

Thoughts for Rosh Hashana 5774

Sometimes it takes a crisis to remind us of the transience of life. It might be an illness, the death of a loved one, an accident, a shocking and tragic news report. At these crisis moments, we suddenly and starkly remember that we are mortal, that life on this earth is temporary.

When people confront their own mortality, they often come to the realization that time is precious; that life is too valuable to be frittered away on nonsense; that it is self-destructive to engage in petty feuds or egotistical competitions. It can take a crisis to help us live on a higher, happier level. Facing the transience of life, we take our living moments more seriously.

Shalom uvrakha, I hope your school year went well, and I wish you a terrific summer. Here are a few items for your attention.

This week’s Torah portion begins (Bemidbar 22:2): “And Balak the son of Zippor saw all that Israel had done to the Ammorites.” Interestingly, the Torah doesn’t tell us at this point who Balak is!

The passage then continues with two verses describing how the Moabites feared the advent of the large contingent of Israelites. Only at the end of verse 4 are we informed that “Balak the son of Zippor was king of Moab at that time.” Wouldn’t it have been more logical to tell us from the outset that Balak was king of Moab?

Ruth Calderon, a new member of the Israel Knesset, has a Sephardic father and an Ashkenazic mother. She was raised outside the Orthodox religious establishment in Israel, but has earned a doctorate in Talmudic literature from the Hebrew University. She works to bridge gaps among all segments of Israeli society.

In her inaugural speech in the Knesset, she made an impassioned plea for all Jews to draw on the wisdom of Torah. The Torah heritage does not belong to one segment of the Jewish population, but to all Jews.

What did the Israelites do during their forty years of wandering in the wilderness?

They didn’t need to work for their food, clothing or shelter. They didn’t have businesses to run. They didn’t have homes to repair or gardens to tend. They didn’t have theaters for entertainment or arenas for sporting events. They didn’t have televisions or internet connections or facebook. They didn’t have a formal school system for their children, or summer camps, or vacation homes.

We may assume that the Israelites—men, women and children—spent part of their days studying Torah. But what else did they have to do? How did they deal with what must have been overwhelming boredom? What did the Almighty have in mind when He imposed forty years of wandering on them?