What feels so hard in this moment is that I don’t know what the right course of action is. One of the problems I see in the world’s response to Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack is a preponderance of either Chesed or Gevurah thinking.
Today, we still struggle to recognize the gray within our heroes as well as within our ideological opponents. We jump to point out the hypocrisy, unethical behavior, and dearth of compassion in our enemies, while doing everything possible to underplay that of our allies — and, of course, ourselves.
Since the attacks on October 7, T'ruah has offered public webinars for prayer and mourning, to engage with the moral challenges of the war, and to hear from staff who traveled to the region.
I yearn to live in a generation where everyone, including our leaders, recognizes that leaders sin; where our leaders admit their mistakes, are held accountable, and where they actively make amends.
Real intimacy — with the Divine and with each other — is an ability to say I will show up, but only if I can demand that when there is destruction there is rebuilding, when there is grief there is space to mourn, when there is heartbreak there is space for healing.
[Unders stress,] we are often functioning far from our cores, where we can access our unique strengths and talents, offer our best selves, and hear – and perhaps even seek – other voices.
Our Torah is a unique holy book and it is like none other. The torah takes us on a journey towards the Promised Land, but we never get there. The people who are in charge of our journey fail in their attempts at leadership. Our Torah portrays our leaders as fallible, mortal, and prone to...
A d’var Torah for Parashat Korach I often notice comparing and self-judging thoughts arise when I read about the work of activists: There they are speaking boldly at major rallies, or tweeting or blogging to many followers, or traveling to meet with Important People. What am I doing? Why aren’t I more like them? Then...
I had never been inside Perth Amboy’s quaint, two room art gallery on the outskirts of this heavily Hispanic town in Central New Jersey. What brought me inside at this moment, nearly four years after I moved to Perth Amboy to be the rabbi of Congregation Beth Mordecai, the remaining synagogue in town, was not...