(M)oral Torah

Power corrupts even exceptionally just people, especially those responsible for holding even more powerful people and systems accountable. God and Moses… are not interested in building a society that is reliant on a select few righteous people; they are concerned with creating an infrastructure immune to human fallibility.

To live re’eh anochi is not to pretend that danger, hatred, or difference do not exist. It is to refuse to let fear have the final word. It is to keep choosing… presence over retreat, curiosity over certainty.

Power doesn't just tempt toward corruption; it reorganizes justice around itself until the bias no longer feels like bias.

No matter the circumstances, each imprisoned and formerly imprisoned person deserves a life filled with dignity.

In this week's commentary on Devarim, Rabbi Francine Roston reflects on the need to understand and process trauma before moving forward.

“Standing at the border of the Promised Land, God declares that [Moses’ deeply human chronicle of the Exodus] belongs within the eternal text of Torah. The messy, contingent experience of history is revealed to have been Torah all along."

Clearly, if the laws which govern our lives are promulgated by and in the interests of the privileged in the majority, then those who are insufficiently represented will be harmed.

This, to me, is the Torah: It is liberation. It is the release that comes from being seen, truly seen, in our whole, struggling, imperfect selves.

Each of us contains a Divine spark of holiness, but if our thoughts and actions aren’t directed toward holiness and channeled toward a redemptive vision, toward something larger than ourselves, then our sparks don’t connect and align.

We are responsible for one another. A society cannot call itself just while the sick are impoverished. It cannot call itself prosperous while the vulnerable are denied basic health care.