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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.

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. 

For the sake of the food insecure in these difficult days, and for the future health of our country, I hope that Ki Tavo’s powerful linking of sacred space and religiosity to the obligation to give to those in need can be strengthened. As Americans increasingly seek spirituality and community outside of organized religion, community builders, religious and non-religious alike, must work to cultivate cultures of giving.

Our belief that there is a divinely inspired, ethically enacted pathway for living embedded in a sacred text we reread every year for contemporary relevance makes the entirety of the Jewish project rather queer from its very inception. It is and has always been our greatest strength.

Our hearts and bodies want to give, but our brains get in the way. 

...the Torah teaches us that the particular and the universal are inextricably intertwined. Just as we need partners in the fight against antisemitism, we must use our power to become partners to others in the fights for social, racial, and economic justice. As the Talmud says, ​​even a poor person who is sustained from tzedakah must also perform tzedakah (Gittin 7b). When we feel the fragility of our power, when we feel we need help, even then – precisely then – we must share what we have with others.

Rabbinical Student and T'ruah board member Kelly Whitehead on Juneteenth and collective memory.

We are not bound to the worldviews and ideologies of those who came before us, but neither can we discard the ancestors with whom we disagree. How do we engage in the often difficult spiritual task of recognizing the image of God in the forebears with whom we deeply disagree, without capitulating to or validating the ideologies they espoused?