Tell Me Your Names

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5778

Our names aren’t just our names. Our names tell a story about our past, our present, and our future. Our names are full of hope, passion, and promise. When I tell you that I want to know your names, I tell you that I want to know you. Truly. Who are you? Where do you come from? What do you care about? Who do you want to be in the world? When we know each other’s names, that is to say, when we really know each other…that is when we enter into sacred relationship. That is when we build a spiritual community of meaning and purpose. That is what seals us for blessing in the Book of Life.

The Shofar: Our Call to Battle

When we hear the shofar, we prepare ourselves for a desperate and critical battle. And our tools for that moment, are love, truth, presence, and compassion. We gird ourselves in teshuva, tefillah, and tzedakah: sacred returning, prayer, acts of righteousness to create the world we will so desperately pray for during our season of introspection and renewal.

The month of Elul is our month to get ready. To clothe ourselves in love, truth, presence. and compassion as we prepare to quench the fires of fear, to extinguish the flames of hate, and to stamp out indifference.

Making Sense in a World of Nonsense

Unfortunately, even though we yearn for the logic of “If A, then B” reality doesn’t always turn out so neat and tidy. We know that. We’ve seen that in the news. We’ve seen that in our lives. We’ve seen that good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people.

...And still, we pray. And still, we yearn. And still, we hope for a world that will make sense. A world where our good deeds will be appropriately rewarded. Where the leaders of all nations work for the best interest of their citizens. Where we see the senselessness of devastation and destruction and work for the safety and security of all peoples.

Whenever a Jew prays, a Jew always prays for Peace

Parashat Matot-Masei

I think this is a universal experience, so you’ll have to let me know if this has happened to you too.

There’s something you know. Maybe it’s a quote, a famous saying, a philosophical idea, or even a line from a movie…but, for the life of you, you have no idea where it comes from.

You’ve searched for it. You’ve googled it. You’ve opened up random books hoping you flip to the right page. You’ve googled it again. You changed a few words…and you google it again. Perhaps, you have even driven friends and loved ones crazy with your incessant googling.

Well, I have a phrase like that. I’ve shared it and taught it multiple times in many settings. And every time, I try to say it with conviction, mostly so no one will question me on it. I’m always secretly terrified that some well-meaning or moved person will ask where it comes from…and I’ll have no idea!

But! No more! Last night, while G-chatting with a classmate about this week’s Torah portion (because that’s what rabbis do), I decided to give it another shot…and, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, I found it!

The Misogyny of Omission

Parashat Pinchas

Let me begin this Shabbat by sharing some of the insider trade secrets of the Reform Rabbinate. There are a lot of exciting things that happen when you are ordained a rabbi. There is the ceremony itself. The big, fancy piece of paper you get. The days and weeks of celebrations and congratulations. The feeling of accomplishment and awe. The opportunity to head out to serve the Jewish people.

But, the most prized in this remarkable period of transition, the most anticipated status change, the most coveted opportunity…is joining the Central Conference of American Rabbis’ members-only Facebook group.

What's in a Name

Sermon for Parashat Vayishlach at a "Mispacha Shabbat," a service designed to be engaging to all members of the family, young and old.

Let me tell you a story. It’s a story about my great-great-great grandmother and my great-great-great grandfather, and their son, my great-great grandfather. My great-great-great grandfather, Shlomo, was a farmer. And his wife, my great-great-great grandmother Rayzel, ran the family store and managed all of the finances.

One day, Rayzel to Shlomo: “We’re going to have a baby!” They were so excited! They moved the goats outside so there could be space for a crib, they made sure to put their various sharp, pointy farming equipment in carefully locked cabinets. They pulled out boxes of their favorite toys from when they were children.

Rayzel went to the shtetl’s Lamaze class. And Shlomo, he just did a lot of pacing.

Concert Across America

Shabbat Shalom! I missed you all! It was nice getting to check in and catch up with a few of you last Shabbat. Gavi and I were away for most of the summer in Florida for an internship I had down there. It was a lot of really hard work. Slaving away day after day without a moment’s rest. And it is really nice to be back home.

You know…I’m starting my 5th and final (God willing!) year of rabbinical school. I’m trying to soak in all of the academics I can before I have to go out into the real world. And the good (or maybe bad) news for all of you, is that you are going to have to listen to me ramble about all of the stuff I’m learning in class!

The topic right now that’s grabbed the strongest hold of my attention is a course in “ritual studies.” That’s right. I go to school to talk about the theory and creation of sacred rituals. I’m not sure why there’s anyone who doesn’t want to be a rabbi. We’ve been talking about what defines a ritual. What rituals are for. Sociological, psychological, political, and anthropological critiques of rituals. And what makes for good (or bad) ritual.