Janet Falon has written more than 100 pieces, which can be thought of like the "additional readings" that synagogues will often include in services, to be used in celebrating all the Jewish holidays. The readings have been used in various Jewish organizations, including synagogues, Rosh Chodesh groups, and private seders. Janet is happy to share these readings and is available to custom-write other pieces.
Click on a title below to sample Janet’s Jewish liturgical writings:
My Confession
Why I Fast, or, So Be It
Why I Don’t Fast
Miriam the Speechwriter
Women, Too
Janet has, and is eager to, create rituals that either follow or include more traditional rituals but personalize both their content and verbiage. Although she is most familiar with Jewish rituals, she is willing to work with rituals from other religions and spiritual practices.
Life-cycle events that are not traditionally spiritual -- such as retiring, finishing a doctoral dissertation, finalizing divorce proceedings, etc. -- are also wonderful events to be celebrated with a customized ritual.
Click Here for Havdalah Ritual for a Failed Adoption
Standing on Ceremony is Janet’s business dedicated to writing for ceremonial occasions. Your wedding or commitment ceremony is a life-changing event that can be even more memorable when your ceremony, and especially your vows, are an expression of your personal emotions. Working with you and your partner, Janet Ruth Falon puts your love into words that truly express what you wish to say at this significant time in your life.
Janet crafts meaningful ceremonies for couples of any religion, spirituality, or gender. She has written beautiful vows for Jewish and Christian ceremonies as well as for interfaith couples, gay and lesbian couples, and couples who prefer to express their love in a non-religious, yet spiritual ceremony.
To inquire about customized ceremonies, call 215-635-1698 or click here.
It is said
that the women, too,
are obliged to light the Chanukah candles.
This is unusual;
in most cases, it's only the men who have to anything.
It's the women, usually,
who keep the home fires burning
from which the men kindle torches
to chase fear from the night.
It's the women, usually,
who play the pilot lights
that are always on, on low,
but that can burst into tall peaks of flame
on demand.
It's the women, usually,
who only feed the fires
(as their families)
as the men get credited
for the conflagration.
But at Chanukah
it's not enough
for the women to feed, or nurture,
or stay in a steady state of readiness
like a kept woman.
At Chanukah
it is said
for eight days
the women are required to act,
to take a symbolic stand,
to stand by the candles
and illumine them
in hopes that the candles
will stand by the women
and shed light on who they can be,
and illumine them
in return.
How can I focus inward
on my spirit
my heart
my head
if all I hear are the growlings of an animal need
the rumblings of grinding-against emptiness
and the juicy churnings of desire?
I can force myself to push beyond the utterings of my viscera
and listen to the airier voice that rises
and merges
and mingles like the everywhere smoke of Memorial Day barbecues
but that eats up effort I might otherwise use
more wisely
on other matters that matter more.
And after all,
the belly is the source of breath,
and inspiration,
and power;
all that hibernates under the skin of hunger.
I'd rather pray fortified,
my body satisfied,
planted solidly on the ground like an old apple tree
so that I can leave it behind and soar
mega-aware that I've already compromised
and am, therefore, deliciously human.
It is traditional, during the Yom Kippur service, to hit your chest with your fist as you recite the list of sins that you, and members of your community, might have committed.
My Confession
I used to think
that when I was beating my chest with my fist
it was because I'd been bad
was guilty
and was trying to create a physical reminder
of all I'd done wrong
I used to think
that when I was beating my chest with my fist
it was because, like the Tin Man, there was nothing
inside and I needed to hear the emptiness
reverberate to remind myself of the hollowness of a
mortal life and how I needed to fill the emptiness,
each year, with the viscera of good intentions
Now I know
that when I'm beating my chest with my fist
it is because I'm knocking on the door to my heart
I'm gaining access
and entrance
to the pink, warm part of me
hoping to release the love
and forgiveness
of my self
I fast because I'm supposed to
I fast because I'm afraid not to
I fast because I don't want that to be the reason I don't get a clean page in The Book
I fast because I don't want that to be the reason The Gate closes before I slip in
I fast because God wants me to
I fast in case there is God
I fast because I want to prove to myself that I have discipline
I fast because I want to show myself I'm not a slave to food
I fast because I want to demonstrate that I have mastery over my needs
I fast because I have the ability to concentrate on things other than my animal self
I fast to see if I can
I fast because it's no big deal
I fast because food tastes sweeter after
I fast because I eat like a pig in anticipation on this fast
I fast to punish myself because I've sinned
I fast because I want to see if lack of food makes me feel spiritual
I fast because it makes me feel clean
I fast because not eating gives me more time to be in the spirit of Yom Kippur
I fast because I always have
I fast because everyone else does
I fast in solidarity with people who've fasted throughout history
I fast because the rest of my community is fasting
I fast because I feel virtuous later when I tell people I've fasted
I fast because I'd be embarrassed to tell people I hadn't
I fast because
I fast.
Moses, awkward, chose to be mute
Aaron delivered
but it was Miriam who put words in the mouth
words that flowed like honey of bees that sting
sweet enough to make the message palatable
thick enough to spread through the crowd
sufficiently golden to reflect
and remind of the calf.
Miriam the speechwriter is remembered most for dancing
but she was the one who gave voice
who swallowed the clouds and spit them out in letters
who translated God to People
and moved them to reconsider
and tears.
A woman's words, once again, ghostly and potent
A woman's voice, once again, silent and still