Ma’ariv by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat of Bayit

You mix the watercolors of the evening

like my son, swishing his brush

until the waters are black with paint.

The sky is streaked and dimming.

The sun wheels over the horizon

like a glowing penny falling into its slot.

Day is spent, and in its place: the changing moon,

the spatterdash of stars across the sky’s expanse.

Every evening we tell ourselves the old story:

You cover over our sins,

forgiveness like a fleece blanket tucked around our ears.

When we cry out, You will hear.

Soothe my fear of life without enough light.

Rock me to sleep in the deepening dark.

El chai v’kayam, tamid yimloch aleinu l’olam va’ed.

Baruch atah YHVH, ha’ma’ariv aravim.

Living and enduring God,

you will reign over us always.

Blessed are You YHVH

Who evens the evenings.

Dear One, you love me so much

you give me your Torah

for argument and play

waltzing and conversation

from one life to the next.

Your Torah nourishes me,

familiar as the womb.

Wrap me tight in your Torah

like a newborn. Laugh in delight

when I learn to break free.

Your Torah lights up my eyes,

fuses my heart with my choices.

Give me just one letter

to suck like candy, like manna

changing flavor on my tongue.

Tell me a true story again

about who I used to be

or who I might yet be

-- like you, always becoming

who you are becoming.

Beloved, draw me close.

I've been scattered:

melt me until we mingle.

I want to come home in you.

Choose me again. Don't stop.

Baruch atah YHVH, ohev amo Yisrael.

Blessed are You YHVH, Who loves Your people Yisrael.

-by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat of Bayit 

Blessed God of our ancestors,

beginning the chain of work,

we give thanks:

For the portion of dough we take off the challah

before we bake it in order to sustain

high priests, artists and those who are in need;

For the seed and the earth and the rain

and the sun and the farmer and the picker

and the miller and the baker

and the trucker and the packager

and the store owner and the grocery checker

and the shopper and the cook

and the waiter and waitress

and those who will clean up after us,

for those who brought us this food that we bless together;

For the scientists and activists

and the teachers and the learners

and the new farmers and the leaders

who work to help us heal this earth, our home;

For all those who work to sustain us

For all those who work for sustainability.

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu

Melech Ha’olam Brucha at Shechina,

Ruach Ha’olam

Blessed One-ness,

HaMotzi Lechem Min HaEretz.

Amen

All who sit around these tables,

Friends and strangers,

In peaceful conversation

And pleasant disagreement,

We take this moment to acknowledge

Whenever we eat together

That we are blessed

And, in our turn,

We bless.

Blessed be the creator and the created,

Blessed be the sustainers and the sustained.

Blessed be the eaters and the eaten,

Blessed be the feeders and the fed.

Blessed be the cooks and the meal,

Blessed be the drinkers and the water.

Blessed be the farmers and the produce,

Blessed be the baker and the bread.

Blessed be them all.

Blessed be the doers and the done upon,

Blessed be the freers and the freed.

Blessed be the leaders and the led,

Blessed be the sellers and the sold. 

Blessed be the prayers and the prayed for,

Blessed be the servers and the served.

Blessed be the teachers and the taught,

Blessed be the tellers and the told.

Blessed be them all.

Blessing us, One-ness,

With the biggest and the smallest of blessings:

We do not lack.

Blessing us, One-ness,

With a history, ancient and current,

That is never boring.

We give thanks

Blessing us, One-ness,

With boundless compassion 

For all people.

We pray for even a fraction of that empathy

That we may feel the joy and the suffering of all who surround us

And so that they may also feel ours

So that we all may act accordingly and save the world. 

Blessed One-ness

Making peace

Sustaining wholeness

For each other

And everyone else, too. 

Amen

-by Trisha Arlin

Coming through the sea

was only the beginning.

The giddiness of walking

through walls of living water... 

But the story doesn't end there.

Now it's desert, without a map.

What if the next forty years

are bone-dry and desolate?

Maybe it wasn't so bad, that life

numb and familiar. Cucumbers

and fish fresh from the Nile.

Certainty: a fixed path.

Now hope unfolds its mighty wings

and every step risks failure.

When I falter, remind me

I didn't cross the sea alone.

Remind me there's a mountain

I'm heading toward, a promise

that spans lifetimes

of becoming, together, with you.

בָּרוֹּךְ אַתָּה יהו''ה גָּאַל יִשְׂרָאֵל:

Baruch atah YHVH ga’al Yisrael.

Blessed are You, YHVH, redeemer of Israel.

-by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat of Bayit 

Blessed Mystery, Brucha At Shechina,

Breathing in our history

Breathing out our stories,

Bless this mezuzah.

We earned this mezuzah,

This is a hard fought mezuzah.

This mezuzah has been in the trenches,

This is one tough cookie of a mezuzah.

There are way too many tears in this mezuzah,

But just as many laughs.

And oh wow,

There's a lot,

A lot,

Of love

And so many memories.

Breathing in our history,

Breathing out our stories,

Every time we come to this door,

The door to our new home,

We can touch our fingertips to this glorious mezuzah

And have a holy conversation

With everything

And everyone

That brought us to this place.

Blessed Mystery, Brucha At Shechina,

We give thanks for our new doorway

And its new mezuzah.

May we live here happily, 

As long as we want to,   

Amen.

-by Trisha Arlin