Watch, Listen, Learn

Trauma, history, fear—all of these lead us down a path that is as futile as it is dangerous. At the end of one terrible war and in the midst of another, we can do better. We must grow in our ability to imagine one other.

The ten spies who enter Canaan create 40 years of delay in the Israelites’ journey to the Promised Land. What did they do wrong?  And how can we avoid making the same mistake they did as we witness the brutality all around us?

Amid ICE raids and ballistic missiles, here’s what I saw from the stage at a multifaith vigil in downtown Los Angeles, what I heard from my Iranian friend who yearns for home, and why I believe our most audacious dreams must be born in the darkest times.

This Pride Shabbat, we need to reckon with the current landscape for our trans siblings. We need to understand that trans people are being used as a wedge to divide Americans, and as a test case for increasing authoritarianism. What does our parsha teach us about the dangers of callousness, and what brighter, more beautiful future can we imagine?

When trauma is acknowledged, not denied, not justified, not dismissed through comparison, only then can something new and hopeful be imagined. 

After the antisemitic murder of two young beloveds on a DC street, there are four things I know. Parashat Behar-Behukotai 5785

A strange, mysterious half-story told in the Torah hints at a failure of leadership and a failure of law, and calls us to be brave and bold, especially when our dreams seem furthest from reality.

A blessing for strength in spirit and body for a new Pope in a time when spiritual and moral leadership matters more profoundly than ever.

…Because there is a space between stimulus and response. What we do in that space is our choice. So please: tell me you’re scared. I’m scared too. Tell me times are tough. Tell me we’re facing a narrowing landscape of possibilities. But please do not tell me there’s nothing we can do. There’s always a choice to make.

There are a number of parallels between the creation of the world and the splitting of Yam Suf, casting this dramatic moment of the Exodus as a kind of “recreation story.”  Which makes the appearance of a provocative midrash about an Israelite woman picking fruit from a tree and feeding it to another that much more fascinating… and I’d like to suggest, subversive.  What exactly happened in the Garden of Eden, and what message does it hold for the generation crossing the sea? Click here to access the text study sheet.

Prepare to embrace the bold vision of Passover (that we are all heading toward freedom, that pharaohs crumble and fall) requires focus. Let’s affirm the twin pillars of the Hebrew Bible (chesed/lovingkindness and tzedek/justice) to gird ourselves for the battle ahead!

Ours is not the first generation in which telling this story, reiterating these foundational ideas, is risky. Dangerous, even. And perhaps that is the greatest reason of all to tell this story truthfully.

Let us not turn to the garden—or the theater, or the studio—to escape this world, but to enrich the soul, to strengthen our hearts to plant for a better future. Making art, tending gardens, telling stories, especially from within the narrowest constraints—all of these can be sacred acts of defiance.

The rabbis radically reinvent Elijah. From violent zealot to gentle peace builder. The path to the messianic era depends on this transformation.

Using Jews as a wedge to break apart the world order is not new.  We must be honest about what’s happening here.

When your most precious resource faces grave risk, you create a sanctuary to protect and nurture it. You hold close the seeds, so that when the conditions are right, you can replant and rebuild.

We are lost and disoriented.  How can the core values of this week’s Torah portion supply us with a compass to navigate the landscape of moral injury?

Yitro reminds us, in the twisted reality of our time: do not quiet your intuition. Defy the new norms. Live from your deepest moral convictions, not your most callous political calculations. And do not eat the tainted grain— no matter how hungry you are. Keep searching for an alternative food source. There is always another food source.

– Rabbi Sharon Brous | B’shallakh 5785 Four postures our tradition warns against, in the face of grave threat: Do not snail. Do not capitulate. Do not meet become the mirror image of your enemy. Do not render yourselves preemptively powerlessness. Instead: do what you know

We are all struggling in this moment of deep darkness – either riding the constant emotional rollercoaster or already feeling numb. The thing is that both of these will destroy us. Instead, we need to stay connected to our humanity and each other to get us through. That is the only way we will find ourselves back in the light.

This is the moment to remember who we are, to ground ourselves in the story that stands in determined opposition to the story of tyranny.  To tell of a God who cares about the vulnerable.  To become again a people whose faith compels us to protect the frightened.

After 15 months of catastrophic loss, unspeakable heartache, and the utter undoing of not one but two peoples—in body and spirit, we stand—at this moment—at an inflection point. May this be the beginning of the end of the suffering. May it be the beginning of the path toward a just peace.

Even as the fires burn, let us hold on another, give voice to what we have lost, and turn toward what remains.