D'var Torah

To me, Jacob feels human for his fearfulness — and even more human for his backsliding. Some of us may carry ourselves with confidence and consistency as we fight for what’s right, but others — and I’ll include myself here — may have moments of glorious God-wrestling, after which we may retreat back into our more cautious selves. This doesn’t make us pushovers; it  just makes us human. 

Like Jacob’s dream, our justice work must be grounded in this world, absorbing the pain of everyday injustice with our hearts open to those suffering. And yet, our work must remain aspirational, reaching for the sky and not settling for anything less than our basic demands of human dignity and human rights.

Parshat Toldot is a cautionary tale, in which the disastrous effects of the scarcity mindset are illuminated; it comes to highlight its devastating impact in our world. In contrast, a mindset of abundance can pay dividends.

As our ancestor Abraham experienced, our most liminal moments also often coincide with moments calling for meaning-making and the rituals that bring us spiritually home. Yet few who flee by forced circumstances arrive with the means that Abraham had to purchase the dignity of sacred space and time.

As a whole, the rabbinic discussions about Sodom demonstrate that, for the rabbis, the true definition of “sodomy” is toxic selfishness combined with an extreme devotion to property rights.

A D’var Torah for Parshat Lech Lecha by Rabbi Rachel Schmelkin “It’s time to torch those Jewish monsters. Let’s go. 3pm.”  On August 12, 2017 in Charlottesville, Virginia, I stared at the screenshot in horror, witnessing a direct threat to the Jewish community. Hundreds of Neo-Nazis and white supremacists had marched carrying torches the night...

In a year in which we’ve suffered so much loss, in which we’ve witnessed the destruction of so many worlds, this teaching calls on us to see ourselves in God’s image, to not only build worlds worthy of establishment but to destroy worlds that are not fit to stand.

Strategically, we stand a better chance of finding our way if we do not dismiss (other's) capacity for moral reasoning. We stand a better chance of moving their hearts if we assume they have one. 

The illusion of security, the illusion of living in a world not deeply steeped in racism, and the comfort of staying committed to our illusions ultimately cuts us off from the fullest joy of life radically open and in relation to that which is. 

Jewish leaders need to be authoritative and steadfast in ensuring that September 11th and its commemorations do not provide annual pretense for rage against Muslims (and Sikhs and the countless others conflated with Muslims). Nor can we allow political opportunists to seize upon our unresolved grief and pain once again.