(M)oral Torah

‘I was asleep, but my heart was wakeful.’ The first part of this verse is a call. ...Within myself there is something to be awakened.

Passover’s story reminds us to see ourselves as newly freed slaves. The Nachshon story invites us to see ourselves as agents of miracles.

The Kli Yakar (16th century, Prague)... says that it is this stinginess that brings “tzara’at of houses,” that our refusal to share is what will ultimately destroy our homes and society.

The haftarah in the guise of Naaman says that one need not be defined by tzara’at – or, we add, any aspect of ourselves by which others define us, as though we are unidimensional.

Without the structure of community and the grounding of ritual, my action, based on the heat of my emotions, would be like a wildfire rather than a well-tended altar.

When leaders choose discrimination and censorship, when they care more about excess for some rather than access for all, Achashverosh is still among us.  

...as we learn from Leviticus, for communal sin there can be expiation. The process begins not with bringing a bull to the sanctuary, but with a commitment to learn history, and a commitment to ensure that history is learned by others.

It is incumbent upon us to create spaces for God to come into the world. I would add, if we are not doing everything we can to create structures to house all holy human beings, then we are not doing our part in imitating godliness. 

Our movements for justice rely on the ecology of different people and different groups bringing the contributions that make our hearts sing.

When anger is a mode of life or when expressed in an unjustified manner, it is prohibited by Judaism. But if a person is wronged, they are allowed to express their natural feelings, including anger.