Resources

“All politics is local.” That phrase was associated with the late U.S. Congressman and former Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill. This week features an Election Day. With so much of our attention focused on Israel and Gaza, we might be tempted to miss all the local and state elections happening this week. As if...

What feels so hard in this moment is that I don’t know what the right course of action is. One of the problems I see in the world’s response to Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack is a preponderance of either Chesed or Gevurah thinking.

Land, for Jews and all peoples, equals safety, security, and sustained fruitfulness. It is home. May we always be grounded in the knowledge that the gift of land and the blessing of home hinges entirely on the choices we make, day after day, to co-exist peaceably with others, as neighbors, as family.

It is on us to use our tradition responsibly, and to challenge its misuse, whether that be in the service of racism and racist institutions, homophobic policies and legislation, nationalistic aspirations, or exclusive claims to land.

I believe one reason we dispose of people who have done harm (or are accused of doing harm) is to avoid looking at ourselves and our own baser natures.

We offer these texts as starting points for rabbis and cantors to speak to their communities after this first full week of war. When we have no real answers to provide people in this painful time of uncertainty, the best we can do is offer teaching that orients and grounds us.

Perhaps Sukkot is the festival of understanding our journey, for journeys have no concrete and steel foundations, only earth and sandy feet. And the yearning that should come out of this collective memory must be a passionate commitment to end homelessness everywhere, physical, spiritual, or national.

Let Sukkot be our call to action this year. May it give us the spiritual resolve to live in the midst of great uncertainty and challenge, and to take action to pursue climate justice in this vast interconnected world of ours.

We find that we have to learn from our ancestors with a dual dose of humility and chutzpah: both to learn from their wisdom, and also to transcend their limitations.

'On Rosh Hashanah, it is written and on Yom Kippur, it is sealed: How many will die and how many will be born? Who will live and who will die?' This is one of the most beloved and troubling of Rosh Hashanah prayers. But such is the power of great poetry.