A full prayerbook for the maariv service on Tishah b’Av, compiled by Isaac Gantwerk Mayer from resources shared through the Open Siddur Project. . . .

This is a Hebrew adaptation of the poems traditionally recited by the Beta Israel community for the festival of Sigd, altered and adapted to fit the traditional qedushta form of poetic Amidah additions. The texts of the first few prayers were rewritten substantially and combined with relevant verses so as to fit in the strict form of the magen, mehaye, meshalesh, and El Na. After this, the qiqlar is slightly edited to fit a couplet rhyme scheme, while the silluq (the freest of the genres of qedusha piyyut) is almost entirely preserved — the only change being several verses whose placement is postponed so as to better lead into the qedusha as a silluq should. Regarding translations, the silluq largely uses my original translation with slight alterations (replacing the clunky use of ‘God’ as a pronoun with a gender-neutral THEIR, translating the Agaw passages into Latin rather than English to preserve general comprehensibility while clarifying that this is a different language), while the rest of the poems are different enough for their translation to largely be from scratch. These would be recited with the Ark open for all the piyyutim, as one would on the Yamim Noraim, ideally using melodies from the Sigd liturgy. . . .

A version of the Pesaḥ Haggadah with full cantillation. . . .

Jews have read sacred texts to commemorate miracles of redemption for a long time. Purim has Megilat Esther. Many communities read Megilat Antiochus or Megilat Yehudit for Ḥanukkah. But to many modern Jews, the most miraculous redemption in recent history was the founding of the state of Israel, as we commemorate on Yom ha-Atsma’ut. Like Purim, the story of the founding of Israel was entirely secular on a surface level, with no big showy miracles like a sea splitting or a mountain aflame. Like Ḥanukkah, a Jewish state in the Land of Israel won its independence against mighty forces allied in opposition. But we don’t have a megillah to read for Yom ha-Atsma’ut. Or do we? Just as Megillat Esther is said to be a letter written by Mordekhai to raise awareness of the events of Shushan, so too does the Israeli Scroll of Independence, Megilat ha-Atsma’ut, raise awareness of the events of the founding of the State of Israel. In this vein, I decided to create a cantillation system for Megilat ha-Atsma’ut. Ta’amei miqra were chosen attempting to follow Masoretic grammatical rules – since modern Hebrew has a different grammatical structure, the form is somewhat loose. Because of the thematic similarities to Purim, I chose Esther cantillation for the majority of the text. Just as some tragic lines in Esther are read in Eikhah cantillation, some lines regarding the Shoah or bearing grim portents for the wars to follow are to be sung in Eikhah cantillation. And the final phrases of chapters II and III are to be sung in the melody for the end of a book of the Ḥumash, or the Song of the Sea melody. They can be done in a call-and-response form, with the community reading and the reader repeating. . . .

A megillah attesting to the terrible events of World War II from the vantage of North African Jewry in Casablanca. . . .

The full Birkat haMazon (or Grace after Meals) according to Nusach Ashkenaz with optional additions for egalitarian rites, fully marked with ta’amei miqra (also known as cantillation marks or trope). Ta’amei miqra originally marked grammar and divisions in any Hebrew sentences, and older Hebrew manuscripts such as those from the Cairo Geniza often show ta’amei miqra on all sorts of texts, not just the Biblical texts we associate them with today. This text includes the full tradition for Birkat haMazon, including texts for weekdays, Shabbatot, and festivals, as well as additions for a wedding meal, a circumcision meal, and a meal in a mourner’s house. . . .

Shmini Atseret is a strange festival. In some ways part of Sukkot, in some ways its own thing, it occupies an equivocal place in the yearly cycle. But one thing that is completely true: Shmini Atseret is on Pi Day. Well, Pi Approximation Day — the twenty-second day of the seventh month. Inspired by my friend and math enthusiast Aryeh Baruch (may he have a long life), I’ve compiled this altered form of the haftarah for Shmini Atseret in the diaspora, including the description of King Solomon’s “molten sea,” as well as an Aramaic “reshut” poem with a numeral acrostic of the first few digits of pi. . . .