I'm Jewish and respect the traditions of Judaism, but through all

Hear now the voice of Louie Schwartzberg, who spoke with humility and wonder: “I’m Jewish and respect the traditions of Judaism, but through all the time I’ve spent photographing nature, I also have a deep appreciation for the power of the universe. No, not the power of the universe, but just celebrating life.” In these words we hear the meeting of two realms: the sacred traditions handed down through faith, and the living temple of the natural world. His declaration is not a rejection of one for the other, but a weaving together of both, so that life itself becomes the altar, and gratitude the offering.

The meaning of this quote lies in the balance between reverence for tradition and awe before creation. Schwartzberg affirms his respect for Judaism, acknowledging the roots that shaped him, the prayers, the rituals, the stories of his people. Yet, in gazing through the lens of his camera at flowers blooming, clouds drifting, and light unfolding, he has also found a second scripture—written not in parchment, but in petals, rivers, and stars. His words remind us that celebrating life is itself an act of worship, one that transcends all boundaries and binds us to the eternal.

The origin of this insight comes from Schwartzberg’s lifelong devotion to capturing the hidden rhythms of the natural world. Through his time-lapse photography, he reveals what the human eye cannot see unaided—the silent unfolding of beauty, the perseverance of growth, the grandeur of the small. In so doing, he discovered that life itself is sacred, not only in the temple or the synagogue, but in the meadow, the mountain, the forest, and the sky. His declaration flows from lived experience: that to look deeply at creation is to awaken reverence in the soul.

History too gives voice to this truth. Consider the psalmist King David, who lifted his gaze to the heavens and declared, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.” Though rooted in Jewish tradition, David saw in the stars a testament beyond words, a call to celebrate the majesty of life itself. So too did Francis of Assisi, centuries later, sing of Brother Sun and Sister Moon, blending his faith with the poetry of creation. In their voices, as in Schwartzberg’s, we hear the eternal harmony between religion and nature.

The emotional power of Schwartzberg’s words lies in his correction: not “the power of the universe,” but “celebrating life.” Power often tempts us to conquest and control, but celebration invites us to gratitude. To celebrate life is to marvel at its fragility, to honor its beauty, and to cherish its fleeting gifts. It is to recognize that every breath, every moment of light, every act of kindness, is worthy of reverence. This is wisdom: that true spirituality does not seek to dominate, but to celebrate.

The lesson for us is profound. We need not choose between honoring tradition and honoring nature, for both flow from the same source. Respect your ancestors, their rituals, and their wisdom, but also open your eyes to the living miracles around you. The bee pollinating a flower, the tide shaping the shore, the laughter of a child—these too are sacred texts, if only we have the eyes to read them.

Therefore, let your actions reflect this teaching. Practice gratitude daily—not only in formal prayer, but in the way you walk upon the earth. When you eat, give thanks for the life that sustains you. When you see beauty, pause to acknowledge it. When you encounter others, celebrate the life within them. In this way, you will not only honor tradition but embody its deepest purpose: to revere the gift of existence itself.

And so, remember the words of Schwartzberg: respect traditions, but also celebrate life. For life is the temple in which we all dwell, the great mystery in which faith and wonder unite. Walk in reverence, live in gratitude, and you shall find holiness not only in rituals, but in the very fabric of being.