Resources

While we are deeply connected to the land of Israel, with spiritual roots that seek to implant themselves in its rich soil, connection is not predetermination. What we build on top of the land, as a civilization with our own agency, matters just as much. Whom we build it with matters.

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.

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.