During this past Yom Tov, I spent some time with my son who lives out of town.
My first-born son's recent marriage was a huge simcha for the family, but the wedding was actually the culmination of a simcha that began years ago - at his bris.
Walking along a Brooklyn street recently, I saw a scene that could very well be used in a dictionary to explain the word nachas.
During Rosh Hashona, when it is customary to greet friend and stranger alike with good wishes for the upcoming year, I try to avoid uttering the phrase, "Have a happy and healthy New Year.
Years ago, when I was in college, I took an undergraduate course in law. I don't remember much of what I learned, but the concept of criminal negligence has stuck in my mind.
I recently attended an out-of-town simcha. Among the guests were several acquaintances whom I hadn't seen in several years.
I was at a wedding just the other day, and the music was deafening.
Another Nine Days have come and gone, and we gratefully give a sigh of relief knowing that these days of deprivation - no meat, no swimming, no showering, no music, culminating in a 25 hour fast - no food or water - are finally behind us, and the rest of the sun-drenched summer is there for us to enjoy.
Earlier this month, I spent the July 4th weekend at an out-of-town Shabbaton.
We've all been to hundreds of weddings throughout our lives. Most of them have been the simchas of friends - some of very close family members.
Several weeks ago, there was back and forth "dialogue" in the editorial pages of the Jewish Press concerning the very subjective view as to who is the more "authentic" Jew amongst the various segments of the Orthodox community.
With Pesach upon us, Jews must refrain from indulging in some of their favorite foods, drinks and even cosmetics for over a week.
In this week's Dating Primer column, Rosie Einhorn and Sherry Zimmerman write about the destructive nature of frequent, often unjustified criticism directed towards children and some of the repercussions of what they feel is unintentional but nonetheless genuine verbal abuse.
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of being a guest at a Shabbaton hosted by Machane Chodosh in Forest Hills, N.Y.
One of the most distressing issues that pre-occupies the minds of young and old alike is the growing "Shidduch Crisis."
For many people, one of the most difficult blessings to say with the proper kavana - sincerity - is the one uttered upon hearing of a person's passing - Baruch Dayan HaEmet - Blessed is the True Judge.
Last month, when I was in Jerusalem, I naturally went to the Kotel, a place I always felt was home, since my paternal ancestors were Kohanim.
Perhaps the one characteristic that unites people of all nationalities, cultures and creeds is a fascination with weather, especially bad weather.
At this moment, in cities, towns and neighborhoods across the country, someone's mother, child, friend, or spouse glances impatiently at the clock, only to have flashes of mild annoyance chill into icy pricks of worry and fear.
I recently attended an all-day shidduch program sponsored by the National Council of Young Israel in Manhattan.