#MaccaBEtheLight

Sermon for Misphakha Shabbat at Woodlands Community Temple. Lots of music, lots of families, and, this time around, LOTS of hanukkiot! It's a "visual worship" service, which means there are large screens with these (and other) images projected during the sermon. Chag Urim Sameach!

If you have a message that’s really important to you, that you think everyone needs to hear, what’s the way you get it out? I think some our students might be best equipped to answer. Twitter.

140 characters. You have to be succinct, you have to be snappy, you have to catch the eye in an instant. Other people see it, are inspired by it, and pass it along to their friends.

And I think that Hanukkah is the original Twitter.*

And I’ve still got 16 characters to spare!

Tzaddikim in Training

The text and video below are my "Senior Sermon" at HUC-JIR. The Senior Sermon is delivered in the 4th year of rabbinical studies and is the one opportunity to preach in this capacity to the students, faculty, and administration of the New York campus. Video and the rest of the sermon text are after the jump. Hope you enjoy!

When I was six or so, my mother said me, “being a good Jew means being a good person.” I was a dutiful son, so I believed her. And I still am, so I still do. Since that moment, I’ve been trying to figure out how to be good.

Of course, I think she meant something more grand than good, but you know, she said it to a six-year-old, so “good” will have to suffice. I’ll have to check with her after services, but I am pretty sure she meant something like working to save the world!

I won’t give you a laundry list of the world’s problems, however – not now, anyway. It’s 11am and you’ve checked the Times, Ha’aretz, or Facebook at least once. It’s enough to say that for me – and probably for you – being “good” requires becoming a part of resolving these problems.

Shabbat Shuva: Asking Questions with Eyes Wide Open

Something felt different this year. Tragedy after tragedy opened our eyes to injustice in new, heartbreaking ways. It became more difficult for our communities to hide from the realities of social and economic inequality.

In the coming year, what changes will we seek?

Our Goofy Looking Instrument

Photo from ReformJudaism.org

What a goofy looking instrument. In the Reform Movement generally and at Woodlands specifically, we have modernized so many parts of our Jewish experience. We have projector screens in our sanctuary, we include egalitarianism and modern notions of science in our prayers, we have an electric ner tamid, we play acoustic guitars with plug-ins to a sound system…but we still use a ram’s horn to announce the beginning of the year. Wouldn’t a trumpet or bugle provide a cleaner, crisper sound? Why do we use this awkward, rough, imperfect piece instead of a modern instrument?

Rosh HaShanah 5776: The Fruit from Our Tree

Who better to start a celebration of the 50th anniversary than the person who has been here for the shortest amount of time? (Anyone here for the first time or join in the last year? Don’t worry, we can get through this together.)

I’m reminded at this moment of an iconic Jewish story, but I am going to tell it a little differently than you may have heard it before. I call it “Back to the Future: starring Honi haMa’agel.” Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. But…actually...don’t stop me. I’m going to tell it anyway.

Peace in our Rampart

This year I have had the honor of interning at Woodlands Community Temple. For our Friday night Kabbalat Shabbat services we write "iyyunim," introductions to set an intention for a given prayer. Each week we have a theme that all of the iyyunim tie back to. This past Friday, we spoke about Memorial Day. My Senior Rabbi, Billy Dreskin, really liked the iyyun I gave before the Silent Prayer, so I thought I would publish it here. I hope you have a meaningful Memorial Day and have the time to reflect on lives lost in conflict and hope for a world where we no longer know the violence and pain of war.

Questioning Our Way to Freedom

As a kid, I asked a lot of questions. I would follow my mother around saying: “What’s that? How does this work? Why do we do this? When did you do that?” I’ve been told that I had an adorable blend of inquisitiveness and pestering.

It will come as no surprise, then, that Passover is my favorite holiday. The Four Questions are an iconic moment in the seder. I am an oldest child and the eldest of my cousins, so it was never my job to ask, but I would still spend the night peppering my family seder with other requests for explanations and information.