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It was impossible for me to read this week’s Torah portion—or indeed, do much else—without thinking of the House voting, just a week and a half ago, to raise substantially the barriers for Syrian refugees to enter the United States. And I saw an echo of the hysteria—yes, I will call it that—sweeping our country...

On August 31st, 2005, I sat waiting for a connection in Brussels, coming back from a summer studying in Israel. I was about to begin rabbinical school in just a few weeks. TVs streamed footage of the devastation of Hurricane Katrina; it was the first I knew of it, having been cut off from most...

In the militia headquarters in Odessa decades ago, I was surrounded by harsh interrogators who castigated my friend and me for visiting Russian Jews, who were aliens in their eyes. I felt anger and even hatred at these leaders and their many followers who had made Jewish life impossible for a large segment of our...

My father’s family were refugees from Vienna, who fled just before World War II broke out, but not before my grandfather had been deported to Dachau. He remained incarcerated there from November 13, 1938, until January 19, 1939. He knew he had to leave Austria with his family. But leaving wasn’t easy. First, it meant...

I am starting to write this from a cramped seat on an El Al flight to join the Center for Jewish NonViolence action from May 14-23 in the West Bank. I’ve been asked to drash Beha’alotecha in light of this trip, but, full disclosure, I have to write now because there won’t be enough time after...

Commentary on Parshat Vayechi (Genesis 47:28 – 50:26) This past summer, five participants in a Birthright Israel trip (free 10-day Israel tours offered to young adults) left the tour to visit with Palestinians on the West Bank. Their decision to do so came after receiving a map that made no effort to demarcate the Palestinian...

The window – where the dove returns with an olive branch –  is about hope and connection. The window is an escape from the crushing waves of the endless news cycle of fear and violence. The window is a possibility of change – of redemption.

How can we take on our own “marking of the doorposts” for this moment? What am I prepared to do, or say, to help bring this cursed war to an end? How might I “mark” myself as someone committed to the collective liberation of Palestinians and Israelis?

One of my favorite programs at my synagogue is our B’nei Mitzvah family retreat. At the beginning of the summer, we take our incoming seventh grade families to camp for the weekend. It’s remarkable: relationships between kids change, parents get to know each other, and, after the Bar or Bat Mitzvah, we keep most of...

If America is to be the land of the free, a melting pot of diversity and equality, it too must clear the stones from the proverbial roads and build up pathways for immigrants, especially refugees and asylum-seekers.