Some days ago, O Lord, we celebrated the festival of Purim, which commemorates the participation of Queen Esther in foiling the plans of the wicked Haman to crush our people of Persia under the heel of hatred and prejudice.

Though today we are blessed to live in a country that guarantees religious freedom to all its peoples, we must never let down our guard for always another Haman looms on the horizon.

So let it be, O Lord, that we ourselves never allow hatred and prejudice to taint our feelings towards our fellow beings, and that our country remain ever true to its own precepts; that we the people be free to practice a faith of our own choosing, and each in our own way.

It’s astonishing how twenty-eight years after my grandmother wrote these invocations, circumstances are the same or worse. After September 11, 2001, questions about religious freedoms, prejudice, and hatred multiplied, focused primarily on Muslims. Like any faith, however, what was preached by pockets of radicals wasn’t indicative of all followers.

Most recently, religious freedom was elevated when President Obama requested health insurance plans provide contraceptive coverage for employees who work for Catholic hospitals, universities, and service agencies. Although, it’s confusing to me as to how supporting birth control for these employees, who undoubtedly represent the breadth of religious beliefs, is considered an “infringement on religious liberties and conscience of Catholics.”

Just because someone works for an organization doesn’t mean they should be forced to subscribe to beliefs and behaviors that are counter to their own. No one is telling a bishop to go out and reproduce! And neither should a bishop order a teacher at a Catholic school to be abstinent!

The religious freedoms my grandmother was undoubtedly referring to was Judaism. Unfortunately, anti-Semitism is on the rise, fueled by deniers who claim the Holocaust never happened, hate speech on the Internet, and continuing turmoil in the Middle East.

Even though there might be tumult in various community and cities throughout America, which test the bounds of religious freedoms, the first amendment to the U.S. Constitution states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

This amendment serves as American’s Queen Esther against the temporary uprising of another Haman.

We thank you, O Lord, for the tranquility of this day.

In a world beset by strife and turmoil, we as individuals in our own little worlds, make every effort to live in peace and harmony with our neighbors, friends and family.

And when of an afternoon, we come to meet with our fellow members, we bring with us goodwill and friendship, and on parting, wish each other well.

Please, O Lord, let it ever be so.

Reading this invocation, I paused at the word “tranquility.” It’s aspiring, but difficult to achieve in today’s topsy-turvy, taxing, tumultuous society with ringing phones, beeping computers, blaring ads, screeching traffic, and endless demands from parenting to driving, working, shopping, tidying, gardening, cooking, accounting, responding, and recreating, which if you’re tired from your countless other obligations can be equally exhausting.

Tranquility in 2012? Maybe not.

Reading my grandmother’s letters, written long before I was born, I got a glimpse into what she may have considered tranquility. With five sisters and two brothers, and seven sisters on her husband’s side, her weekends were often filled with visiting, car rides, dinners and lunches.

Telephones were new-fangled and not a good replacement for letter writing. Walking to the store, typically several times a week, was common. Driving was for pleasure, often to the beach or other southern California site. Parks were sprinkled with picnic baskets, teaming with kids, barking dogs, and teens hanging out within eyeshot of watchful parents.

Times were simpler. Tranquility more attainable.

For Charlotte Bronte, author of Jane Eyre, tranquility wasn’t a desirable state. She wrote, “It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth.

Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, to absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex.”

If Charlotte Bronte lived today, she probably would have yearned for the opportunity to do little more than play the piano, knit a pair of socks, or “stagnate” for a few minutes!