Migrants and Refugees

Our Torah is a unique holy book and it is like none other. The torah takes us on a journey towards the Promised Land, but we never get there. The people who are in charge of our journey fail in their attempts at leadership. Our Torah portrays our leaders as fallible, mortal, and prone to...

We are creatures of story—it’s how we make sense of ourselves in the world. So it is with purpose that Deuteronomy, the fifth and final book of the Torah, begins with our shared story. Our individual stories define our individual identities; our group story, delivered here by Moses, defines us as a People. What seems...

An introduction to the Book of Ruth that sees the faces of African asylum seekers in the family of Elimelekh and Naomi, who seek refuge in a foreign land.

I had never been inside Perth Amboy’s quaint, two room art gallery on the outskirts of this heavily Hispanic town in Central New Jersey. What brought me inside at this moment, nearly four years after I moved to Perth Amboy to be the rabbi of Congregation Beth Mordecai, the remaining synagogue in town, was not...

T’ruah is the fiscal sponsor of Right Now, an organization of American and Israeli Jews that advocates for the rights of African asylum seekers in Israel.

We can imagine how miserable it was for Noah, his wife Naamah, and their whole family, spending nearly a year in the ark, filled with pairs of every animal and bird species – let alone seven pairs of the kosher animals! Yet, it seems that somehow Noah was hesitant to leave the ark. He sends...

Avraham Avinu, our common ancestor Abraham, was an immigrant. “Go,” God commands in this week’s portion, “from your land, from your native territory, from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” Taking his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, and his household members with him, Abram (as he is still named at...

It was impossible for me to read this week’s Torah portion—or indeed, do much else—without thinking of the House voting, just a week and a half ago, to raise substantially the barriers for Syrian refugees to enter the United States. And I saw an echo of the hysteria—yes, I will call it that—sweeping our country...

My father’s family were refugees from Vienna, who fled just before World War II broke out, but not before my grandfather had been deported to Dachau. He remained incarcerated there from November 13, 1938, until January 19, 1939. He knew he had to leave Austria with his family. But leaving wasn’t easy. First, it meant...

“I am a nester,” my friend said just weeks before Pesach, as we pondered the ramifications of her house having been dismantled for mold remediation. Her home is sacred space for her, a place set apart to replenish herself. Normally, she would have been cooking up a storm in her house. Instead, we baked a...