#Rosh Hashanah Stories

[storytour-blog]

The Magic Pomegranate Seeds

The pomegranate eaten on Rosh Hashanah has great significance, The most outstanding aspect of the pomegranate is its seeds. As we say before eating the pomegranate on Rosh Hashanah, “May it be Your will, G-d and G-d of our fathers, that we be filled with mitzvot (good deeds) like a pomegranate is filled with seeds.” The times were bad, a poor woman was having a hard time finding food for her…

[readsofawe]

Collections, anthologies, and even individual stories count!

[ofpd]

ok ngl it's nice to read the teshuva story in shul on nye

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Apples (or not everyone believes in fairytales)

Summary:

Fairytales are for children who's grandparents didn't have numbers forced into their arms and stars sewn into their clothes. Fairytales are for children who don't see war growing in their school. Fairytales are for children who aren't different and have always been different.

Anthony Goldstein doesn't believe in fairytales, they're not the stories his grandparents told him growing up. They taught him about the war they survived, and he doesn't realize until too late that it's the same war he'll survive. Anthony doesn't believe in fairytales, but he does believe in people and listening to stories and apples.

No matter how sour they may be.

In honor of Rosh Hashanah, I like to share this story I wrote about Anthony Goldstein. I know I’m a few days late, but to this day, this is probably one of the most important stories I’ve written.

Ao3

[hornedcraft]

my bf comes from an extremely religious jewish family and it is extremely interesting to feel the differences. my shul was reform and his (that he still gets dragged to) is VERY CONSERVATIVE, like one notch below orthodox, so we both had hugely different experiences with judaism

we had a looooooooooong convo about it last night trading experiences, and it's very interesting to me how our differences in insulation with the community changed us. he knows a ton about the actual religion bc he went to shul weekly, did a special torah study group, and went to 2 different jewish private schools; but he knows fuck all about like. antisemitism. because he was always ALWAYS around majority jews for his whole life before moving downtown. meanwhile, we were VERY isolated from other jews, so i know very little about the actual religion; but i was subjected to a lot of antisemitism in my youth and online, so i can identify a dogwhistle in like. seconds.

it's to the point where he didn't know that the lizard people conspiracy was an antisemetic thing. but on the other hand, i don't know the names of most of our holidays off the top of my head.

extra fun bc we both pivoted out of judaism as a religion and only have it as a cultural/racial thing, and now do witchy things together<3 i love him a lot. it feels very complimentary.

[bdkinz]

Don't try to fly with your Garbage: Pre-Rosh Hashanah Story about Waking Up to Life

While most of us have flown with dirty laundry in our suitcases, I would venture to guess that most of us have never considered taking a big bag of garbage on a plane. Yet, that is what happened in the following story: The Rambam tells us that the shofar is calling to us, ” Awaken all people who are in a slumber.” The call of the shofar – of Rosh Hashanah and Elul – tells us to inspect our deeds…

[ymandel]

A Heist in Heaven

“Where did all the sins go?”

The angels stared at the lopsided scale. The side of merit, weighed down with good deeds, had hit the floor. The side of sins had flown up to the summit of Heaven, completely empty.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev folded his arms over his open holy book. “I have assembled you all here today for a heist.”

“You are the greatest thief in all Transylvania.” Shmiel nodded. “No has ever seen you at the front door of a home, you always find a hidden way in. You will find the backdoor to Heaven.”

“You have been breaking into homes -” 

Sarah interrupted - “I am not a thief!”

“No, but every week, you sneak into homes of poor people. You fill their kitchens with food, you leave money for clothing in drawers.” Sarah nodded. “No one has ever seen you, and no one suspects at all. You will sneak us past the angels without them noticing.”

“And you have been seen many times,” the rabbi said to Zalmen. “But no one knows who you are, for you are a master of disguises. You will disguise us all.”

“Excellent! As what?”

“As me.”

And Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev was summoned to the Heavenly court.

Gabriel the Prosecuting Angel began. “The Eye that Sees All and the Ear that Hears All and the Hand that Records All have recorded you entering Heaven to empty the scales of sin. How do you plead?”

“Guilty, of course. How can I say otherwise in the World of Truth?”

“Then you must pay double, as it says, the thief must pay double.”

“But I have so few sins, not even enough to pay once!”

“Then as it says, the thief must be sold to pay their debt.”

And Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev looked to Heaven’s summit and cried, “And what do we say in our prayers? To our Creator who acquires his servants in judgment!”

And a Voice called out, “You and all yours are now mine. Return to your holy work.”

And the angels rejoiced and said, “Go, and have a sweet new year!”

[johninrags]

Yud - Let there be light

"The little that holds alot". So much indeed, it holds the big bang in place. This tiny letter is the secret of all existence. The Yud is an infinite sphere, the center of which is everywhere, the circumference nowhere. Here is a great poem on the spark of creation....

Beyond, beyond

It sounds full of wind and mist, doesn't it

It means other things exist, doesn't it

Beyond, beyond

It says Adam leave your list, doesn't it

Father why does my head feel this joy and this dread since the moment I said

Beyond

I've got an itching on the tips of my fingers

I've got a boiling in the back of my brain

I've got a hunger burning inside me, cannot be denied

I've got a feeling that the Father who made us

When he was kindling the pulse in my veins

He left a tiny spark of the fire, smoldering inside

The spark of creation, is flickering within me

The spark of creation, is blazing in my blood

A bit of the fire that lit up the stars

And breathed life into the mud, the first inspiration

The spark of creation

I see a mountain and I want to climb it

I see a river and I want to leave shore

Where there was nothing let there be something

Something made by me

There's things waiting for me to invent them

There's worlds waiting for me to explore

I am an echo of the eternal cry of

Let there be

The spark of creation, burning bright within me

The spark of creation, won't let me rest at all

Until I discover or build or uncover

A thing that I can call, my celebration

Of the spark of creation

The spark of creation, may it burn forever

The spark creation, I am a keeper of the flame

We think all we want is a lifetime of leisure

Each perfect day the same

Endless vacation

Well that's alright if you're a kind of crustacean

But when you're born with an imagination

Sooner or later you're feeling the fire get higher and higher

The spark of creation

- by Stephen Schwartz

[mariacallous]

As a kid in Hebrew School, I learned that my classmates would have apples and honey and round challah at Rosh Hashanah to bring in the New Year, and that was pretty much it when it came to food traditions. But at home, it was a different story. 

As an Iranian Jew, Rosh Hashanah was an elaborate affair. We’d gather the extended family together for the first two nights of the holiday, the first at my parents’ house, the second at my aunt’s. Dining tables, coffee tables, and folding tables would be lined up to make one long dinner table, covered with tablecloths to accommodate a good 20 or so family members. The table would be spread with platter after platter: mountains of saffron-laced basmati rice, crispy tahdig, and flavorful stews — maybe a deep green stew of celery and lots of herbs, or a tomato-based eggplant stew, tangy with unripe grapes.

But before dinner, we’d (mostly) pause the loud chatter — a lively mix of Persian and English — for a full Sephardic Rosh Hashanah seder. Yes, there were apples and honey. But we’d also have dates, beets, pomegranate seeds, slow-cooked black-eyed peas and beef tongue, Persian leeks, and fried zucchini, each with a symbolic meaning and a blessing for the coming year. 

This date upside-down cake takes the dates from my family’s Rosh Hashanah seder and pairs them with the two fragrant ingredients found in so many Persian sweets: cardamom and rosewater. The cake’s batter uses buttermilk for a bit of tang and goes easy on the sugar to provide some balance for the topping: a super sweet combination of velvety dates in a rich butter caramel. It’s a moist and aromatic dessert that pairs perfectly with a glass of amber-colored Persian tea.

[fdelopera]

Musings on the Moon Knight System for the High Holidays

BROKE: Moon Knight System in the comics are Jewish in name only. They’re basically pagan idolaters.

WOKE: Jake is MK System’s spiritual protector in the comics (especially MacKay), and connects the most with their Jewish identity.

BESPOKE: The Moon Knight System are very Jewish, but Marc, Steven, and Jake have a lot of specific religious trauma, and they each connect to their Jewishness in different ways and at different times ... just as most Jews do. Their Jewishness is an intrinsic part of who they are.

At the Rosh Hashanah 2nd day service yesterday, the Rabbi said something that brought Moon Knight System to mind.

During the Malchuyot, Zichronot, and Shofarot prayers, she said this before the Zichronot prayer:

“Jews are all about memory. We tell and retell the stories of our ancestors to link our generations together. We tell the story of the Exodus and redemption, and these are human memories. Here in the Zichronot section, we consider G-d's memory. What we are asking in Zichronot is, "Am I remembered? Is my life in G-d's memory?" And the answer is, yes. Adonai remembers each one of us, every single creature created in G-d's image is seen and noticed.”

And yet, what about those of us who are dissociative? What about those of us whose memory is scattered, fragmented, and traumatized, just like the Jewish people have been throughout our history?

What about those of us whose memory stops at a certain point, just as our family tree goes back only a few generations to those who escaped the pogroms and the Holocaust? Yes, we can trace some of our ancestors across the ocean to the shtetls, and we can search for the deep root systems that our people have grown from, but we know that if we do, we will only find tragedy and death.

For every one of our ancestors who has a gravestone in an intact Jewish cemetery in the Old Country, there are countless others whose roots were cut, who were murdered by Romans and Inquisitors and Cossacks and Nazis, whose bodies were desecrated, and who were never buried in Jewish soil. And yet, even as the Nazis and the Russians and the Spanish and the Romans and so many others tried to erase us from living memory, still we persevered. There are still some branches left. Our cultural memory endures, even though it is fragmented.

And yet, what of us who strain to remember? What of those of us who have high walls instead of doorways, keeping us out? Perhaps we can even see trees growing on the other side, but we cannot enter, not yet. How then can we connect to our past? Must we wander for another 40 years? And on Yom Kippur, how can we atone if remembrance is scattered and hidden like the Lost Tribes of Israel?

I imagine that Marc has wondered thoughts like these from time to time, especially around the High Holidays. Marc wants to think of himself as an apostate. If he’s being particularly edgy, he might even describe himself as an idolater. But I don’t think he is. Marc has a Jewish soul. So does Jake and so does Steven.

And as much as Marc might want to think that he is beyond atonement for the things he’s done, perhaps in quiet moments, he still hopes to atone as best he can. Perhaps some nights, Marc and Jake and Steven share dreams of teshuvah, of repentance, of making amends. With Gena. With Crawley. With Frenchie. And yet, how to even begin?

Perhaps Elias Spector, the Orthodox rabbi, might once have read the following passage on Rosh Hashanah as he spoke to the congregation from the bimah. And even if Marc was dissociating into the ether when he heard these words, sitting as far away from his father as possible, halfway to hiding deep within, the duty of being the Rabbi's son weighing heavy on his shoulders ... perhaps Jake and Steven listened, and they remembered for all of them:

“When a person commits a sin and does not turn in repentance, when that person forgets the sin, Hakadosh Baruch Hu remembers. When a person fulfills a commandment by doing a good deed, but forgets about it, Hakadosh Baruch Hu remembers. When a person commits a sin and later turns in repentance by remembering that sin, Hakadosh Baruch Hu grants atonement, and forgets the sin. But when a person fulfills a commandment and is constantly filled with self-praise because of it, Hakadosh Baruch Hu forgets it. What a person forgets, G-d remembers, and what a person remembers, G-d forgets.” -- The Hasidic Master Shmelke of Nikolsberg

Shana tovah and g’mar chatima tovah to the Moon Knight System. May they be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

So you want to write about a Jewish Ed Teach - a quick guide to writing a Jewish man of color, by a Jewish moc

Given Taika Waititi is Jewish, I am always so happy when I see fanfic authors writing about Ed being Jewish! We need more Jewish poc rep and I'm always happy to see it. That being said, I've also seen a lot of misunderstandings, so I wanted to to write up a few quick guidelines.

Disclaimer: I'm just one Jew with an opinion, and this is based on my own experiences! I'd love if other Jews, especially other Jews of color, in the fandom would like to chime in with their thoughts as well!

It is possible to be a Jewish athiest! Judaism is membership in a people, and belief in g-d is not required (and, in my community, it's even considered a very personal question!). Some of the most observant Jews I know are athiests; belief in g-d and level of Jewish observance are not directly correlated. Cannot overstate how common it is for Jews to not believe in g-d or go back and forth on the question.

On that note, there are different levels of Jewish observance. Every individual is different, but in general there's Orthodox (very strict), and then, way on the other side, there's Reform and Conservative (Conservative does not equal politically Conservative). Conservative and Reform are very similar, except the Conservative movement tends to be more observant of traditional Jewish law and uses a lot more Hebrew. If you live in an area without a lot of Jews (like where I live!), it's very common for Reform and Conservative movements to have a lot of overlap and collaborate on a lot of stuff together.

Not every Jew keeps Kosher, or keeps Kosher to the same level of strictness.

Synagogue services are not like Christian services, especially outside of holiday services. Ordinary Saturday morning services are often more like a group conversation as we try to work new meaning out of the Torah. The B'Nei Mitzvah, the big ceremony that marks a kid being old enough to participate fully in Jewish life, is more like "baby's first thesis defense" than anything else! There have literally been pauses in services I've attended before as someone ran to the temple library to check their sources.

Not all Jews speak Hebrew. Some Jews might not know any, some might be able to stumble through the more important prayers, some might be able to sight-read okay, some might only know religious words but not modern words, some might be fluent! Just about any level of proficiency is believable.

Ed's got a lot of tattoos! Tattoos are a big traditional Jewish no-no, but (again!) different movements and different Jews have their own opinions. I know a Conservative tattoo artist! It's not something that other Jews would comment on (unless they're just assholes) and it wouldn't make anyone kick him out of synagogue services (no joke, I read that in a fic once).

Hannukah is not the only (or even the most important) Jewish holiday; it's just the one most non-Jews know about. The two biggest holidays are Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I think Ed's favorite holidays would be Purim (you get to wear costumes and put on plays!) and Passover (retelling of a story along with a big meal!).

Depending on the area and the Jewish demographic, Jews of color can sometimes feel uncomfortable in our own community, especially when other Jews automatically assume we must be converts. While this is a real issue, it is not something I want to read authors who aren't themselves Jews of color write about because it is a deeply inter-Jewish issue.

Depending on the community you grow up in, religious trauma isn't as common with queer Jews as it is with queer Christians. The Reform movement has been advocating for queer Jews since the 1960s (you read that right, yes). I'm not saying there are no queer Jews who have religious trauma, I'm just saing it's a lot less common, and I have always felt immediately accepted as queer in Jewish spaces.

The inverse is not true. Queer spaces are not always accepting of Jews (or of people of color, a double whammy!).

A few stereotypes to avoid: Jews are often stereotyped as being greedy and corrupt. Jewish kids are bullied by Christian kids because "we killed Jesus," when I was ten I had another kid ask to "see my horns." Always avoid comparing Ed directly to animals, especially rodents.

If you're a non-Jew looking to write about a Jewish Ed, I recommend doing some research. MyJewishLearning is a great website that's very accessible.

Every Jew interacts with our Judaism differently, so if you're writing a Jewish Ed, please take a moment to think about what it means for him! Membership in a community? Calming traditions that remind him of home, family, and community? A point of pride - we're a resilient lot! Even just a note in his background that he's not as connected to as he might like to be?

[libraryofgage]

Hashah Tovah! It's Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and there's no such thing as too much Jewish Steve in my book (that being said, this story isn't about the New Year, it's about Shabbat hfjdks)

Also, I'm gonna be honest, this fic is a love letter to Judaism and my experiences with my temple and the people there. My experiences aren't universal, though, so please don't take anything here as, like, the end-all-be-all of Judaism. If you have questions about anything here, you can ask me; I'll be happy to answer ^_^

The time period is also very loose. Upside Down happened, but some of the attitudes are probably a bit more modern. Honestly, I suggest just shutting off your brain and enjoying the story lmao

CW: vague mentions of antisemitism and homophobia

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

(also this is like 4k so buckle in bois)

----

Steve's car has officially given up on life. Honestly, he's surprised it even managed to live this long. For all it's been through, it probably deserves some rest and TLC. Steve just wishes it could have demanded that rest and TLC on any other day.

Because it's Friday. Because it's Shabbat. Because he's about to have a mob of concerned elderly members of his temple crowding his door if he doesn't go to services tonight, and that's not something he wants his neighbors to see.

He considers calling Robin, but she won't be much help. She might be his Emergency Goy, but she doesn't have a car. Now that he's thinking about it, Robin may not be the best Emergency Goy, not that he'd ever tell her that.

He knows one other person with a car, of course, but that means he has to call Eddie. Not that Steve has anything against him, of course, but Eddie makes him feel a lot of things that he's not quite ready to confront just yet.

Steve frowns, staring at the phone for a long moment, trying to come up with any other option.

Steve comes up empty.

Shit.

He takes a deep breath and takes the phone off the receiver, slowly punching in the numbers as though he'll suddenly have an epiphany before he's finished dialing.

Unfortunately, he doesn't, and the phone is now ringing. It rings twice before getting picked up, Eddie's familiar voice saying, "You've reached Casa de Munson. The fuck do you want?"

"Do you always answer the phone like that?" Steve asks, momentarily forgetting about the favor he was planning to ask.

He hears Eddie hum and can practically picture the way he's now leaning against the wall next to the phone, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Stevie. What, pray tell, has you calling me?" he asks.

Steve almost hangs up. This is already stressful for him. What if Eddie doesn't agree? Worst, what if he does? Wouldn't that mean Eddie is going to see a part of himself that nobody but Robin has seen? That's fucking terrifying. What if Eddie suddenly hates him?

"I, uh, I need a favor," Steve admits.

"What kind of favor?"

If he wanted, Steve could just lie. It wouldn't be his first time lying about Friday plans. "My car won't start," Steve says, hesitating for a second more before continuing, "and I need a ride to the next town tonight."

"Gee, Harrington, get invited to a party?" Eddie asks, a slight edge to his voice that Steve can't quite place.

"What? No. I...it's not a party, okay? This is really important to me, man. Can you give me a ride or should I ask someone else?"

Maybe Hopper or Joyce would have enough time to give him a ride. He just needs to be dropped off. Getting back...can be a bridge he crosses when he comes to it.

"What time would we be getting back?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve from his thoughts.

"Probably after nine. And we need to be there at six, so that means leaving here no later than five," Steve says, trying to ignore the growing hope and sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. "I know it's really last minute, but you could spend the night at my place after. If you want."

"Will it be fun?"

"Uh, maybe? I don't know, man, it kinda depends. I find it fun, but you might get...bored," Steve says. Or offended. Maybe infuriated? Maybe betrayed that this is a whole part of Steve's life he's never hinted at.

"You're being real mysterious about all this, big boy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just hard to explain."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm bored and curious."

----

On the drive, Eddie keeps trying to figure out where Steve is directing him. He keeps asking questions, Steve keeps dodging them, and that feeling of inevitable dread keeps growing.

Of course, all that dodging is rendered obsolete as Eddie pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the van. A few families are walking into the temple, some parents glancing curiously at the unfamiliar van, some glancing suspiciously, and some too distracted by kids to notice.

"Uh, are you sure this is the place?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly as he looks at the temple and then at Steve.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, his hands nervously gripping the material of his sweater. "I'm Jewish," he blurts out, feeling his face burning. When a few seconds pass without any response, he burns holes into a tree outside and adds, "It's Friday night services. Shabbat. I've missed too many because of...you know. The, um, the Rabbi called and asked if I was okay, and I promised to be at services tonight. You don't have to stay if you don't feel comfortable."

"You don't look Jewish."

Steve tenses, jerking his head to look at Eddie. There's no malice in his eyes. No suspicion, either, thankfully. He just looks...confused. "What's a Jew supposed to look like?" Steve asks in return, wondering if Eddie even knows that he's toeing the edge of the antisemitic swimming pool.

Eddie opens his mouth before closing it again. "Uh...I don't know, actually. Just...not you, I guess?"

Okay. Yeah. Steve can deal with this. He forces himself to relax. "Well, Jews come in all shapes and sizes," he says. He hesitates before deciding to get a burning question out of the way. "Are you angry?"

"What the fuck would I be angry about?"

"That I didn't tell you. That I was Jewish. To be fair, only Robin knows."

Eddie shakes his head, turning in his seat to face Steve. "No, Stevie, I'm not angry. I mean, I live in Hawkins, too. Not exactly the place to be standing out unless you wanna get accused of murder."

Despite himself, Steve can't help snorting at that. He takes a deep breath, the last bit of tension leaving his shoulders. "Well, uh, do you want to stay for services?" he asks.

"Can I? I'm not Jewish. And I'm dressed like this," Eddie says, gesturing at his clothes.

A Hellfire Club shirt, denim vest, gaudy rings, and dark jeans. It's incredibly Eddie, and something about it reassures Steve. He says, "You're with me, so not being Jewish is fine. And your clothes are okay, too. It's not formal."

"My shirt literally says Hellfire."

"Well, it's a good thing Judaism doesn't really have a hell."

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds, clearly full of questions, but then he just nods and climbs out of the van. Steve blinks and scrambles out as well, wanting to create some kind of buffer between Eddie and the congregation members who see a stranger and instantly become defensive.

The moment he's shut the door, he hears a little kid shout excitedly, "Steve!"

He whirls around in time to see a young girl rush across the parking lot, much to the shock and concern of her guardian. Thankfully, there aren't any cars, so the girl is unimpeded in her rush to Steve.

Eddie comes around the side of the van just in time to see the girl launch herself at Steve, giggling when he lifts her up and spins. "Yael! Have you gotten bigger?" he asks, smiling brightly as he comes to a stop and sets her on his waist.

Yael returns his smile with a grin of her own, tilting her head up so he can clearly see the brand-new gap in her teeth. "I lost a tooth! See? It came out last week," she tells him, practically bouncing in his arms.

By now, Yael's grandfather has reached them, smiling indulgently. "Yael," he says, his voice gentle but firm, "you know better than to run across parking lots." When she mumbles an apology, he looks at Steve, his smile turning warm. "Steve, it's been a few weeks. I'm glad to see you again, and you've even brought a friend."

Steve returns the smile and nods, shifting closer to Eddie. "Yeah, things got a little...chaotic in Hawkins. Oh. Mr. Adler, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, Elijah Alder."

Mr. Adler's eyes light up, and Steve suddenly remembers something incredibly embarrassing. "Oh?" he says, looking at Eddie with renewed interest, "So this is the famous Eddie Munson? I'm glad to see you've healed well."

Eddie blinks, glancing at Steve. "Uh, thanks. How'd you know?"

"Steve asked the Rabbi to include you during the Mi Shebeirach."

"The Misha what now?"

"Mi Shebeirach," Steve says, gently nudging Eddie with his elbow. "It's a prayer for healing."

Mr. Adler nods once, his eyes practically dancing with new gossip. "Oh, yes, you've created quite the stir among the Sisterhood, you know. They have a backlog of Mi Shebeirach cards and nowhere to send them."

Steve translates that information as "the old ladies have been dying to know who this mysterious Eddie Munson is, so Steve had better brace himself." His smile becomes a little strained. "Well, let's get it over with, then."

Mr. Adler nods and gestures for Steve and Eddie to follow as he leads them toward the temple. While they walk, Yael looks at Eddie, her eyes wide. "Why is your hair so long?" she asks.

"Cuz I like it that way."

"Oh. Why are you wearing rings?"

"Because they're cool."

"Oh. Why did you need healing?"

"I was hurt really bad."

"Oh. By what?"

"A bear."

"Oh. Are you Steve's friend?"

Eddie glances at Steve, meeting his eyes for a brief second before smiling at Yael. "Yeah, Stevie and I are best friends."

Yael smiles right back. "Steve is my best friend, too! He's super strong and can carry me without getting tired and makes the best hamentaschen at Purim!"

"Yael," Mr. Adler says, cutting off any continuation of the conversation as they reach the doors of the temple. "Why don't you go let the Rabbi know Steve has joined us?"

Her entire face lights up with joy. "Okay!" she shouts, wiggling in Steve's arms until he lets her down. She tugs open the door, straining until Steve smiles and helps her. "Thanks! Bye, Steve!"

With that, she dashes into the temple, her voice carrying Steve's name into the room full of other people. When almost all of them, including three children that Steve can see, stop what they're doing and look over at the door, Mr. Adler says from behind Steve and Eddie, "Brace yourselves, my boys. The wolves have appeared."

Steve groans as Mr. Adler pushes them both inside. "Should I be worried?" Eddie whispers, leaning in closer to Steve as the door shuts behind them.

"I apologize in advance," Steve tells him.

Despite his words, he has a large grin as the three kids shout his name and rush over, much like Yael did. They're followed by a few teenagers and their parents. The kids pounce on Steve, two holding onto his biceps and hanging from them as he raises his arms while the third clings to his leg.

"Where ya been?" one of the teens asks, her hair pulled back into a ponytail so permed it looks ready to burst.

"Yeah, man, I've been manning the oneg table by myself," another teen says, his arms crossed over a Metallica shirt. He's got piercings climbing up one ear and through an eyebrow, and his gaze moves to Eddie as he speaks, taking in the other boy. "Who's this?"

"Yeah," another girl asks, smiling at Eddie and batting her eyes in a way that makes even Steve feel uncomfortable, "who's your friend, Steve?"

"Kids," an older woman says, pushing her way through them, "you know better than to crowd. Shouldn't you be passing out prayer books right now?" Once she's managed to shoo the teens away, she turns her gaze on the children still clinging to Steve. "And you three, I heard Mrs. Rost needs help in the kitchen. Something about there being too many cookies to platter all by herself."

Steve suddenly finds himself weightless as the kids abandon him, dashing down the hall toward the kitchen. He smiles with slight relief and looks at the woman. "Thanks," he says, rolling his shoulders.

"Of course, Steve. Now, who's your friend?" she asks, looking Eddie up and down curiously.

"Oh, right. Uh. Rabbi, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, this is Rabbi Sara. I, um, I was hoping he could sit in on services tonight?"

Rabbi Sara immediately smiles at them. She holds out her hand to Eddie, shaking firmly when he returns the gesture. "Of course! I'm glad to see you're doing better, Eddie. We've been a bit worried about you here," she says. She glances around before leaning in and conspiratorially whispering, "There's a betting pool on whether his name would be added to the Mourner's Kiddish."

Steve snorts, knowing exactly which members would have started that bet. "Yeah, well, tell Diane and Yakov they've lost."

Rabbi Sara barely holds back her laughter, nodding once as she lets go of Eddie's hand. "Well, how about I spare you boys from socializing more," she offers.

When Steve nods, she gestures for them to follow her, leading the way to the sanctuary. He glances at Eddie as they walk, taking in the way he's tugging on a lock of hair and looking at the hall around them. "You doing okay?" Steve whispers, leaning in closer.

Eddie glances at him, is silent for a few minutes, and then says, "It's a lot to take in."

"Service will be easier. Lots of music. You'll like it," Steve promises, smiling reassuringly at Eddie. He hesitates before adding, "And if you want to leave, just let me know. The important part was making sure people saw I wasn't dead."

That's not entirely true. Steve doesn't want to leave the Shabbat service. He misses the routine of it and the feeling of togetherness as everyone sings. But Eddie's comfort is taking precedence here; he's already given Steve a ride and has begun subjecting himself to Steve's nosy congregation. Leaving early if he gets overwhelmed is the least Steve can do, really.

The teen in the Metallica shirt, Sam, holds out two prayer books when Rabbi Sara leads them to the sanctuary doors. His gaze lingers on Eddie for a few seconds more before asking, "Dude, do I know you?"

Eddie blinks and raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. Do you?"

Their gazes hold for nearly a minute before Sam's eyes widen and light with recognition. Steve is bracing himself for the worst (you know, devil worshipper, accused murderer, wannabe criminal, take your pick). Instead, Sam grins and says, "Yeah, I totally do! You're in that band, yeah? The one that plays at Hideout sometimes? Corroded Coffin. Your music is metal, man."

Eddie returns Sam's grin, throwing an arm over his shoulders and leaning in close. "You know, you're alright. Always happy to meet a fan. What's your favorite song?"

"You played that new one last Saturday. Bats, I think. It spoke to me, man."

Steve stares at Eddie, wondering how he missed the fact that Corroded Coffin started playing gigs again. A curl of something like regret or maybe hurt begins to build in his stomach, and he's almost overtaken by it when Eddie nods and says, "Oh, yeah, that one's about Stevie."

"Oohh, dude, that makes so much sense now."

"You wrote a song about me?" Steve asks, successfully regaining Eddie's attention.

Apparently, Eddie sort of forgot he was there. His relaxed posture becomes a little awkward, and he removes his arm from Sam's shoulder. He clears his throat, tugging a lock of hair in front of his mouth as he says, "Yeah. Is, uh, is that a problem?"

"No," Steve says, feeling a reassuring smile tug at his lips, "but you should play it for me sometime."

"This is all very touching," a voice says behind them, "but can you take the flirting inside the sanctuary? We still need our prayer books."

Steve jolts and looks behind them, laughing awkwardly when he sees Rivkah, a woman in her early 30s, and her partner, Tamar. "Sorry," he says, grabbing Eddie's arm and dragging him through the doors.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie whispers, allowing himself to be pulled over to some chairs near the left corner of the sanctuary, "is everything okay? Like...are we...safe?"

It takes a moment for Steve to understand what Eddie means. Like, of course, he can't guarantee their safety. It's a synagogue. Every person here old enough to understand the world knows the risk, the potential for one person to show up and wreak utter destruction. Steve is about to say as much (and explain the temple's "worst case scenario" game plan) when he notices Eddie glancing at Rivkah and Tamar.

A light bulb practically clicks on above him, and he almost laughs at himself. He sits down and tugs Eddie into the seat next to him. "Yeah, we're safe, Eds," he promises, smiling softly when Eddie looks at him. "Rivkah and Tamar are married. I attended the ceremony. It was very nice. Tamar broke the glass."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, and he looks around the sanctuary with renewed interest. His gaze especially lingers on the people that file in, taking in the couples and families and groups that wouldn't make much sense outside the temple's doors. Steve is content to let him look, allowing himself to relax back into the seat and wait.

After almost 15 minutes, Rabbi Sara approaches the bema and smiles at everyone. "Good evening, and Shabbat Shalom," she says, nodding along as her greeting is returned. "I'm glad to see so many familiar faces tonight. And some new ones. The week has been long for some of us, but it's now come to an end, and we have gathered to celebrate its end, another week's beginning, and being together. Now, please open your books to page 47 for the L'cha Dodi."

Steve flips open his book as Anna, the cantor and the same girl who tried to flirt with Eddie, starts playing the guitar next to Rabbi Sara. "Uh, the book is backward," Eddie whispers, leaning close to Steve.

"Hebrew is written right to left," Steve explains, taking Eddie's book and opening it to the right page. "Also, don't worry about singing along. Just try to follow. If you don't know where we are, just nudge me. I'll point you to the right spot."

Eddie nods, looking almost overwhelmed, but Rabbi Sara starts singing before Steve can reassure him verbally. Instead, he just shifts so their shoulders are pressed together, flashing a tiny smile when Eddie looks at him before joining the rest of the congregation in singing.

Steve has to point Eddie at the right line a few times, but he doesn't mind. He's memorized the prayer by now, and the book is really just for show. He pulls Eddie up with the rest of the congregation during the L'cha Dodi, turns him to the sanctuary doors, and places a hand on his back to gently nudge him into a bow. Eddie blinks through it, following along but seeming overwhelmed by the entire process. When the prayer is finished and Rabbi Sara invites them to greet each other, Steve looks at Eddie with a smile (one of the most genuine smiles he's had in weeks), holds out his hand, and says, "Shabbat Shalom, Eddie."

Eddie doesn't hesitate to take his hand, leaning in close and returning the smile. "Shabbat Shalom?" he asks, speaking slowly to test the words and let Steve approve of the pronunciation. When Steve nods, Eddie's smile grows wider, and he whispers, "Shabbat Shalom, sweetheart."

That...that's a new nickname. And Steve doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe Eddie just wanted the pseudo-alliteration, but his smile says otherwise, and Steve feels like he's frozen in place.

And then a few of the kids dash over to him, shouting, "Shabbat Shalom!" at the top of their lungs and practically fighting to shake his hand first. Steve would feel honored if he didn't know they raced to beat each other to every adult.

After greeting, they light the candles. After lighting the candles, Rabbi Sara leads them into the next prayer, the rest of the service flowing smoothly with her as their guide.

The service is (beautifully, wonderfully, incredibly, thankfully) the same as always. Prayers are sung, and Steve can practically feel them in his bones. He's never been particularly religious (his mother would say they're more culturally Jewish than anything else), but he can't deny that the sound of over 50 people, young and old and in-between, singing together is an otherworldly experience.

They are singing a language that only a few of them actually know how to speak. Steve is reading a language that he wouldn't recognize outside of the prayer book. It's disconcerting as always, but also special, because he shares in the ignorance and devotion wrapped into singing words he wouldn't understand without the book's translation on the opposite page.

The Mi Shebeirach and the Mourner's Kiddish are Steve's sign that service is almost over. And for the first time in forever, Steve doesn't speak any names when Rabbi Sara calls for them. He sinks back into his seat, an unfamiliar relief easing tension he didn't even know he had anymore. But it's true. Everyone is fine, and they've all healed, and Steve no longer has to say Max's name or Will's or Hopper's or Eddie's. He no longer has to dodge questions or call up the Rabbi and ask her to include an extra name in the service.

And this realization, the sheer relief he feels at the simple act of staying quiet when Rabbi Sara's gaze sweeps past him, is almost enough to bring him to tears. His throat gets tight, his eyes burn, and his voice almost cracks when he joins the rest of the congregation in singing for those in need of healing and those who have passed.

Eddie nudges him gently, and Steve glances at him and then at their shared armrest. Eddie's hand is lying palm-up, a silent invitation, and Steve doesn't hesitate to accept. He slips his hand into Eddie's, interlocking their fingers, and feels infinitely better when Eddie squeezes his hand gently.

----

"So," Steve says, refraining from getting up as others file out of the sanctuary, practically tripping over kids racing to reach the oneg brownies first, "did you...like it?"

Eddie is silent for a few minutes, staring down at their hands. Steve almost pulls away, an apology ready on his tongue, when Eddie squeezes his hand tighter. "Yeah. It was...different. But good. I...there was more singing than I expected."

Steve grins, glancing up to see the sanctuary has mostly cleared, and stands. He pulls Eddie up with him. "Yeah, we sing most of our prayers. It's nice."

"It is," Eddie agrees, still looking a little lost for words.

Steve doesn't push. Instead, he pulls, leading Eddie out of the sanctuary. He gives their prayer books to Sam, grabs two tiny, sample-sized cups of Manischewitz wine, and gives one to Eddie. "Don't drink it yet," he says, nodding to where Rabbi Sara has her own cup and is waiting for the rest to be passed around.

Once everyone is ready, she blesses the wine, blesses the challah, and invites them all to drink and eat. Steve braces himself before knocking the wine back, the strong, warm grape flavor coating his tongue, vaguely reminiscent of cough medicine. He sees the same grimace on Eddie's face. "This is shit wine," Eddie whispers, his nose still scrunched as he tosses the cup into the trashcan like he can't get rid of it fast enough.

"Yeah. It's specifically for services," Steve says, "it's not supposed to be good."

"Right," Eddie mumbles, glancing at the oneg table, his eyes lingering on the desserts laid out. "Do you wanna stick around? You know, talk to people?"

Usually, Steve would. He likes catching up with the kids and teens, likes ganging up on them when their parents come around and playfully scold them, and he likes hearing the most recent temple gossip. But as he looks at Eddie, feels their hands still tightly holding onto each other, Steve finds he doesn't mind leaving early.

So, he leans in closer to Eddie and grins at him. "Or," he whispers, "we could steal an extra pack of brownies from the kitchen, sneak out the back, and eat them on the drive home."

Eddie returns the grin, amusement and eagerness practically dancing in his eyes, and says, "You read my mind, sweetheart."

Later, when Eddie pulls into Steve's driveway after an hour-long ride spent eating brownies, explaining different prayers, and telling him about old temple gossip, a different kind of tension will start to fester between them. Steve will delay getting out of the car, Eddie won't comment on it, and they'll slowly gravitate toward each other.

And they'll kiss. It will be awkward and taste like chocolate and end far too quickly, but it will be perfect.

Steve will pull away, a faint blush rising and his heart racing faster than it ever did with Nancy, and shyly offer to let Eddie spend the night. And Eddie will accept and spend the night and ask to attend Shabbat with Steve again and...

And so much more.

But for now, while he has no clue of the future that's about to start after an hour's drive, Steve glances around the crowded hall and pulls Eddie toward the kitchen.

After all, they've got brownies to steal.

[readsofawe]

If you’re looking for a #readsofawe short story, why not read one of mine? A Jewish girl, a cute robot, a dystopian future—what’s not to like?

[ivystoryweaver]

Happy New Year, Jake

Happy Rosh Hashanah to the Moon Knight system

I haven't written enough for Jake, so he gets an impromptu story this lovely Rosh Hashanah (New Year).

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader

Word Count: 820

Content: Fluff, slight feelings of unworthiness, mentions of food, alters mentioned, brief reference to past trauma, mentions of religion and religious practices, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You asked Marc and Steven if you could do this.

Celebrate something with Jake.

Marc had some happy memories of holidays - Passover meals - finding the afikomen and getting a few dollars for it. The food, the wine, the prayers, the traditions.

Hanukkah wasn't quite as big of a holiday, but there were presents and dreidel to play and latkes to eat.

There were candles to light and services to attend.

Then, one day, there was no more happiness.

Steven's memories were spotty at best, but they were happy. His heart was rooted in the traditions of those before him.

But Jake had none of this. He was a shadow - a creature of the night. He had only been in your life for less than a year.

Jake was a difficult man to get to know. He preferred to keep to himself, but he was soft for you - that, he could not fight.

You didn't want to ambush him, or even surprise him. You asked his permission.

"Could...do you think we could have a little dinner for New Year's?" You asked him one night, moonlight spilling across the bed as you drew circles on his bare chest with your fingertips.

"New Year's?" He gruffed out, confused. "In September?"

"Rosh Hashanah," you supplied. "You know...the new year. If you want. I wanted to make you dinner - just something nice."

Jake's calloused hands scratched lightly down the curve of your back. "Not sure, mi vida. Better ask - "

"I did," you interrupted. "Marc's not ready yet and Steven is okay skipping this year - at least the dinner so you and I can share it. Only if that's okay with you. It doesn't have to be anything you're uncomfortable with."

The stubble of his chin tickled the skin of your cheek as he whispered back and forth with you.

"Okay. Yeah. I...I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, but...sure."

You were excited, having hoped Jake wouldn't turn you down.

You prepared a savory meal - doing most of the work the night before. You set an elegant yet simple table, with your best dishes, a tablecloth and your grandmother's silver.

A round challah loaf sat on her silver serving platter. You prepared apples and honey to symbolize the hope for a sweet year. You also served pomegranates and some vegetables. You made some brisket for Marc to eat later. Wine glasses and water glasses were set appropriately. You were ready.

You put the finishing touches on the table just as Jake emerged from your bedroom, straightening his tie. Jake was no stranger to wearing a tie or looking absolutely dashing at any given moment.

But this was something else. Instead of his typical leather jacket, he wore a dark suit jacket. Noticing your blatant stare, he ran a hand over the stubble of his jaw.

"I think this is like a...proper dinner," he attempted, sounding a little like Steven. "This too much?"

"Jake," you breathed, floating toward him. "You look incredible." Placing your hands on his muscled chest, you leaned in and brushed your lips tenderly over his.

"Shana Tovah," you wished him, motioning for him to have a seat at the table. But he pulled you back to his side, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

As you sat down to enjoy your holiday meal, your heart burned within your chest each time Jake seemed uncertain about what exactly to do. The last thing you wanted was make him uncomfortable, or make him somehow feel less...Jewish? Than Steven or Marc.

You only desired for him to be who he was. But you wanted him to feel a part of his history too, if he was comfortable.

"You okay?" You quietly asked, watching as he dipped his apple slice into the honey.

He paused, his warm brown eyes going wide. "Did I do something wrong? Is there like a prayer?"

"Jake, you can't do anything wrong. This is for you. Just...be with me." You reached across the table and squeezed his hand, watching as his shoulders relaxed.

"This is nice, baby," he spoke up after a few minutes. Leaning in, he made sure to catch your eye. "It's really nice. Thank you...for thinking of me."

You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm always thinking of you."

You shared your special meal and some traditions together, feeling so warm inside and so grateful for this man of yours. When you got up from the table, he pulled you close and told you how amazing you looked.

"Gotta dress up like this again so I can take you out," he roughly whispered against your ear while holding you against him.

Easing back, you brushed your fingers along his jaw. "You mean 'take me out' a date, right? And not...your nighttime job?" You teased.

"Very funny," he mocked, scooping you up into a hug, where you stayed for a while, content in his arms.

"Happy new year, baby," he whispered, feeling like he belonged.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[pomegranateandhoney]

Just added Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur service information to my shared Google calendar w/my partner -- and realize this year I will be bringing my son 😭🥰 with me to services.

I couldn't help but remember some years back, going to shabbat services with my then-girlfriend, watching one of the parents with his son leading kiddush. Back then I still had a deep-seated belief that I would never get to have children, which is a completely different story -- but it would always make me just a little teary with longing to see tiny hands and hear little voices saying our prayers.

Here I am now, years later, typing this as my son sleeps in the bassinet across from me. He is still so small, he still doesn't really perceive my prayers for him, still doesn't really even comprehend that he's a separate entity from me -- but in October, I'll bring him to the synagogue to begin the new year, a part of my own little family and our larger Jewish family. We'll say Yizkor for his grandfathers. So many firsts, so many new things.

So many blessings.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה, יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ, מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

[actualmermaid]

Hey Christians

I am once again getting reports that some of you are appropriating Jewish holidays and traditions, and 🌠 you should immediately stop doing that 🌠

Since I'm also a Christian, maybe you'll take this better from me. I usually see this behavior from people who are white, American, and/or Evangelical-adjacent, and I suspect that you're messing around with Jewish stuff because you feel alienated from your own cultural background, whatever that may be. You belong to what is essentially the big-box-store version of Christianity, and you're probably hungry for something that feels more "authentic." That's 100% understandable! But it is not a reason to appropriate traditions that belong to a community that has not shared them with you!

Luckily, there are some pretty easy ways to get acquainted with your own cultural heritage through traditional Christian observances.

Get acquainted with the traditional liturgical calendar. Our observances are structured around the solar year, and historically, these observances were tied to the patterns of agricultural labor. Religious festivals also had seasonal significance: the birth of Jesus coincides with the lengthening of days after the winter solstice, the resurrection of Jesus coincides with the rebirth of plants and animals in the spring, and so forth. The more you learn, the more you realize how much we've lost/forgotten!

If you know where your ancestors came from, you can research how folk-religious festivals are practiced in those parts of the world! What foods are eaten? What games are played? What stories are told? If there's a church associated with "your" cultural community, you might consider visiting them around important festivals and learning what they do. Remember, you are a student, and you should still approach these observances with respect and openness!

Here's a non-exhaustive list of things to try if you're feeling the temptation to appropriate a closed Jewish practice:

Instead of observing Rosh Hashanah because you're feeling left-out by the lack of major Christian holidays at this time of year, start looking forward to the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi (October 4). Here in the US, it's common for churches to hold a special "Blessing of the Animals" service or a "St. Francis the Peacemaker" service, often in cooperation with churches from other denominations! It's a lot of fun!

Instead of trying to host your own Passover seder (I have a horror story about this that I will refrain from sharing out of respect for my Jewish friends), just celebrate Easter like the rest of us! Easter, not Christmas, is the most important day in the Christian liturgical year. There are MANY ways to celebrate Easter in a more "traditional" way than you might be used to.

Celebrating Hanukkah as a Christian makes you look fucking stupid! Don't do it! Instead, if you want a multi-day traditional Christian observance, our things are the seasons of Advent and Christmastide! Again, depending on your cultural background, there are lots of ways to "practice Christianity" around this time. Fasting (similar to fasting during Lent) and lighting the candles on an Advent wreath are easy ways to start.

Don't try to observe Torah, that's not our thing! If you want to practice more "rules," consider trying out one of the many Christian fasting traditions (NOT the "Daniel Fast," which is basically a crash diet attached to some very bullshit theology), praying the Daily Office or using prayer beads, or wearing a head-covering in church. ("But I'm not Catholic," you might say, but if you do some research you'll discover that none of these things are unique to Catholics! You're not Jewish either, but that's not stopping you from messing around with their stuff!)

Before you come at me with excuses about this not being "biblical" or whatever, keep in mind that many Jewish observances are also not "biblical"! If you really want to try out a Jewish holiday, you should make a Jewish friend and let them invite you, but it's pretty hard to make Jewish friends if you're constantly trying to steal their shit! (The last 2000 years of Jewish-Christian relations are hard proof of this!)