But my Jewish growth comes from a wider circle—those closest plus my extended Jewish family. It is this extended family that exposes me to new forms of Jewish belief and commitment. It is this extended family that challenges and enriches me through the ideas of fellow Jews who think and practice a little differently from me. Tapestry is the term Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin uses for our rich variety of Jewish practice, tradition, and thought.

In some tapestries, the backside looks like a jumble of threads, while the front appears harmonious and whole. Sometimes, the more we examine thetapestry, the more we can see the jumble— we forget that, like a pointilist painting, there is a magnificent work of art made up by seemingly disparate and perhaps discordant elements.

This lofty notion of tapestry plays itself out in many arenas, among them in our daily Jewish living. A Reform Jew may live out his Jewish commitment through a methodical analysis of which mitzvot are most meaningful, perhaps therefore by taking social justice ideas from the synagogue out into the community. A Conservative friend from the synagogue down the street may share that same desire to intensify her commitment, she by being more halachically traditional. And an Orthodox young person may be curious about the attention his friends devote to their more liberal practice. The songs may be different in each synagogue, but their purpose remains the same. We seek harmony, and harmony requires different notes. The entire world envies the Jewish genius for survival; we have survived through our pluralism.

Everywhere we look in nature there is great diversity; and everywhere we look among people there are a thousand ways to get the same thing done. Think of another kind of image: the flowers in a field.

When we consider such a field, with its yellows and reds and whites, we see the differences. These differences are like an invitation to prefer one color over another. Move a little bit away and you gain perspective. How beautiful is the blend. Even outside of nature and within Jewish life, we should be haunted by the Talmudic tradition that "these opinions and their opposing opinions are the words of the living God" (Eilu ve 'eilu divrei Elohim Hayim).

American democracy is unique in the world in fostering so many different approaches to values and spiritual matters. In these times when some are convinced that they have a handle on the "right way," it is refreshing to expose oneself to all kinds of ideas and all kinds of people. In the American

Jewish drama that we live out with such joy, the opportunities are especially rich. Here we are without fear of threat that the government won't allow this or that practice, or will insist that we do things in the "one right way."

Given that freedom, we enrich ourselves when we share those different ways with our children, and when our children learn about themselves by experiencing and appreciating the differences that others embrace in their lives. The tapestries, the fields of flowers, the Jewish community which we sometimes call family are all part of harmonious blends especially because of the variety within each.