We are in a Moral and Ethical crisis.

The events in Gaza and the West Bank demand us to speak out for those suffering from violence and hunger.

This isn’t about assigning blame or claiming whose cause is righteous. True righteousness calls on all people of faith to speak out against the horrors inflicted on victims. The duty to feed the hungry is a core part of our tradition.

The path that brought us to this moment is long and complicated. But that’s a story for another day. We Jews around the world are deeply distressed that Israel is involved in tactics we condemn, using food as a weapon. This must stop. The current system for distributing food is inadequate. Israel cannot control Hamas; Israel can control itself. Israel needs to do better.

Perpetuating the cycle of hatred through such harsh punitive measures poses an existential threat to Israel’s safety and security. Palestinian widows and orphans will view revenge as their goal, making them vulnerable to anyone offering retribution as part of a vision for them.

Being moral and ethical in a place where those things may not exist is one of the hardest things to do, but it is in these situations that the best values of our tradition must shine through the darkness. I urge Israelis to pressure their government to change its policy. I ask Donald Trump to urge all parties to provide an overwhelming infusion of humanitarian aid.

Finally, I urge all of us to financially support food initiatives like those offered by the New Israel Fund or World Central Kitchen. I am often asked what we can do, and this is something we can do. We cannot stand idly by while our neighbors blood is shed or starved.

Pincus-From Righteousness to Self-Righteousness: The Peril of Unchecked Zeal

How do you respond to the following:  We will destroy Hamas even if we must sacrifice every remaining hostage and countless thousands of Palestinian women and children?

For some, this is a statement that requires no analysis. For some, this is a righteous stand; for others, it is self-righteousness. 

There is a moment when a subtle but important shift can happen within us, a transition from genuine righteousness to the often-destructive path of self-righteousness. It is a journey from trying to do what is right according to a higher calling to becoming convinced that we are inherently right, unwilling to consider anything else. Often, this occurs without our awareness.

Pinchas in this week’s Torah Portion offers timely insight into today’s tense social environment. Pinchas was zealous for God.  In a moment of crisis, he acted decisively with deep conviction. He kills Zimri, the blaspheming Israelite, and the Midianite princess/seductress/ and lover, catching and killing them in the act, so to speak. In response to these gruesome murders, the plague that was decimating the Israelites comes to a halt, and God recognizes Pinchas as righteous.

We have struggled with this text. Was Zimri righteous, or someone deranged or delusional? But the text is clear that he acted rightly.  This extreme example prompts us to ask ourselves a similar question: How do we know if our actions are righteous, or if they are self-serving? How can we distinguish between selflessness and self-righteousness? Does the greater good drive our response, or ego and selfishness?

To answer this, I try to step back and ask myself, How am I reacting and why? What does this moment require from me?

It’s so easy to lash out, especially when we feel threatened. That primal “fight or flight” reflex can make us feel trapped, and the only option may seem to be to attack and fight our way out. But even in those moments of intense pressure, thoughtfulness and strategy are essential. What do I want to achieve right now? Am I the conciliator, seeking understanding and resolution, or the vanquisher, determined to win at all costs? Or is the right path somewhere in between?

Understanding my motivations makes all the difference. Whether it’s a heated issue like the Israel-Palestine conflict or something more personal like a disagreement with a family member, we need our inner compass to guide our outward actions and help us make decisions about the best way to proceed.

Finding our shared values often helps us find common ground. This is a powerful tool for navigating disagreements.

For example, we all agree that hunger is bad—everyone should have enough food to eat. There is the value we share.  But we can differ on how to achieve this goal.  Some will take the “give a man a fish” approach, others will opt for the “teach a man to fish” method. This is a question of process. We are arguing about the method to achieve the goal.  We are not vilifying the person offering an opinion.  We can be respectful even when we disagree with each other’s ideas.  Otherwise we can lapse from righteousness to self-righteousness.

Zeal can be misleading and deceptive. Do zealots truly hear God’s word, or are they only hearing their own amplified voices inside their heads, mistaking them for divine commands? Pinchas is shown as hearing God’s command, but history also provides many examples of those who, in their zeal, caused great destruction—like the Sicarii, whose self-righteous fervor led to the destruction of the Second Temple, the tragedy of Masada, and the slaughter of Israelites. Their conviction was unwavering, but they profaned God’s name, and their actions resulted in ruin. Some of us might rationalize this behavior instead of taking the time to analyze the issues critically.

Patriotism and love for America can sometimes make it hard for many of us to recognize when harmful actions are justified in its name. Consider the dark chapters of our nation:

The attacks of 9/11 triggered a wave of revenge, transforming us both at home and abroad. Our history is replete with other examples, including Japanese internment camps, ethnic cleansing of Native Americans, turning away Jews fleeing the Nazis, and more.

And as Jews, we grapple with settler violence in the West Bank and the prosecution of the Gaza war. Perceived righteousness can blind us to the humanity and legitimate grievances of the other side.

Anger, fear, insult, anxiety, and even joy—our emotions are triggered in the moment. But our reactions don’t have to be reflexive. They can’t be.

This brings me back to the core question: What are my values, and how are they shaping my life right now? Reflecting on this calls for a mindful pause—a moment to breathe and assess my position before facing a challenge. It’s important even in everyday, mundane moments. That’s why I avoid writing emails directly in the app when the stakes are high. Instead, I open a word processor and draft my message. I review the draft to make sure it clearly communicates what I want to say. If it aligns with my values and is likely to produce the outcome I want, I then copy and paste.

Reflection is our safeguard. It creates space for righteousness to emerge, rather than fostering a rigid, unforgiving sense of self-righteousness. It encourages us to be passionate about what is truly good while remaining open to understanding, compassion, and the shared humanity that connects us all.

Let us all strive to stand up for what is right, to embrace the humanity of others, and to act with humility, guided by honest assessments of our hearts and motivations. Shabbat Shalom.

#BringThemHomeNow

 

The IRS ruling is clearly a bad idea and is meaningless

The IRS allowing clergy to endorse political candidates from the pulpit is one of the stupidest ideas from a place known for some really dumb stuff. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. We will do what we have always done.

I do not publicly endorse or support a political candidate. Doing so undermines my role as a faith leader. I focus on the core values of my tradition and critique policies and ideas that oppose them. The clergy I respect and admire always maintain the dignity of their pulpits and do not turn them into crude political platforms for politicians. However, many clergy have used their pulpits to promote individuals. These two practices have existed long before this absurd ruling and will continue to do so.

The threat of losing tax-exempt status has been a strong argument discouraging some from endorsing candidates. For most of us, that wasn’t a concern. We knew it was wrong and didn’t need the threat. However, we have used the threat when others push hard for a particular person. Some have and will continue to believe that endorsing a candidate is the right choice. They use subtle hints or openly ignore the rule against endorsements. They are not me, nor most of my colleagues. We are empowered to stand by our values and advocate for our community, not for individuals who might share some values but probably not all.

I strongly believe in the principles of our tradition and speak out for them whenever I can. This is about ethics and morality. This is not politics. Politics do not belong in sacred spaces; sacred values do.

So, IRS, thanks for nothing.

 

 

If you prick us, do we not bleed? What are we really trying to say?

What are we really trying to say?

Shylock is an antisemitic character, a villainous figure in William Shakespeare’s play The Merchant of Venice. He has come to represent a usurious moneylender, and for a gangster, he’s the guy who ruthlessly takes that pound of flesh through loan repayment terms. And for someone familiar with the play, it’s an intentional insult and antisemitic. But then comes Donald Trump.

Trump is not known for his soaring oratory. Arguably, this is intentional, as he presents himself as a man of the people. He uses straightforward language that everyone can understand. To his audience, Shylock means a usurious moneylender.

Does Trump understand the back story? Probably. But he rarely seeks nuance. He simplifies complex issues and makes statements in ways that his supporters can understand. He also uses the righteous anger of certain groups as a political weapon. The “hair on fire” moments he creates distract from other topics. It’s 24/7 constant outrage, nonstop. And it’s exhausting. That’s also a tool he uses.

How we handle this depends on the outcome we’re aiming for. As an exceptional teacher of mine once said, “If you are a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”

If you want to clarify the situation, you could quietly approach Donald Trump and respectfully point out the offense caused by sharing the history of the word. If your goal is to criticize his insensitivity and provoke the anger of those offended by such remarks, both Jewish and non-Jewish alike, you would create the controversy currently underway in certain circles. It all depends on what you aim to accomplish.

Likely, he knew. However, it could have been a slip of the tongue. He is known for using a stream-of-consciousness style in his remarks. He has advisors who would have counseled him afterward. But even if it was a slip, Trump does not apologize; he moves forward. To quote the play, “I am not bound to please thee with my answers.” Calling Trump out in public to disparage him accomplishes little for anyone, except Donald Trump.

Words have power. That is a core belief of my tradition. But in a world where things are happening at a fever pitch both here and abroad, focusing on this word has taken precious attention away from discussing all those critical issues.

We need to be more careful in our word choice and what we want our words to accomplish.

United

Rabbi Adrienne and I first met at Temple Micah years ago when we shared the High Holidays there in Lawrenceville, NJ. It was wonderful to see her again at the United for Security Emergency Leadership Mission in Washington, D.C., last week. Our smiles show the joy of reconnecting, but they also mask the urgent issues facing the American Jewish community. This is a time for us to come together, setting aside denominational differences, and recognizing that we are all part of the larger community of Am Yisrael.  This national fly-in was to advocate on the Hill for increased funding for security and a commitment to

With Congressman Brendan Boyle

fighting Antisemitism.

We hope our advocacy efforts helped Congress and the Senate understand the unacceptable risks to our community and encouraged them to take action to protect us from those who mean us harm.

 

Oseh Shalom

עֹשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם בִּמְרוֹמָיו הוּא יַעֲשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם עָלֵיֽנוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל וְעַל כָּל יוֹשְׁבֵי תֵּבֵל.

Oseh shalom bimromav hu ya’aseh shalom aleyn ve’al kol yisrael ve’al kol yoshvei teiveil.

May the One who brings Peace in the Heavens bring peace to all of us here on earth.

~Amen

Lean In

I am reeling from the attacks on my fellow Jews here in the United States. I struggle to understand the apparent fight against anti-Semitism by targeting institutions like Harvard, which seems to provoke a backlash. It appears that Jew-hatred has been normalized enough for these miscreants to heed the words that sanction violent acts. Recent horrific attacks on Jews leave us wondering if we are safe. What should we do?

LEAN IN

I take pride in my heritage, the values of my tradition, and the prophetic call to make the world a better place. I connect with people who share my beliefs, and I also reach out to those who do not. I stand up for what I believe and engage in conversation with others.

I will proudly defend my identity, including that of an American who upholds the aspirations of our founding documents and the struggle for equality, justice, and liberty.

Now is not the time to cower in fear but to realize that many others are like me, seeking a safe and secure world for our children, believing in something greater than myself, and understanding that the “other” is not a threat; they are just someone I have yet to know. It can be scary and difficult to do.

I attend my synagogue.  If you haven’t done so recently, now is a great time to find community.  And there are so many causes that demand our attention, for our charge is to make the world a better place.  It is more important than ever to fulfill our mission.  There is strength in numbers, and besides our Jewish community, we have many allies.

I am a Jew; I am an American.  I fight for the causes I believe in because they are righteous and good.  Join me and Lean In.

Difficult and loving conversations about Israel

I had the honor of moderating a conversation for the New Israel Fund (NIF) at Beth Am Israel, located on the Main Line in suburban Philadelphia.

Our speakers, Rabbi Noa Sattath and Libby Linkenski are dedicated to fostering a shared society that upholds our Jewish values. Our values endure, even in challenging times like these, when they are stressed and tested as rarely before in our history. Indeed, our values are more important than ever for maintaining perspective. Libby shared three points to remember as we navigate these difficult times:

  1. People are not their governments. 

Palestinians are not Hamas. Israelis are not Benjamin Netanyahu. Americans are not Donald Trump. We are more than the actions of our extremist leaders and are not directly complicit in their worst acts.

  1. Don’t defend the indefensible. 

The conflict didn’t begin on October 7, and October 7 itself was indefensible. So is the ongoing assault on the people of Gaza. We can’t lose our moral clarity, regardless of politics.

  1. Two peoples, one land. 

Two peoples have always existed between the river and the sea, and both will continue to exist. Any vision that erases one side is a vision of unimaginable violence. The question is not whether we coexist but how. That’s where the conversation begins—and where it must end.

We must continue working to lay the foundation for a future where both people can live with dignity and security.

 

As we continue our trek from Egypt to Sinai, to Redemption and the gift of Torah,

I am moved by ‘Redemption Song,’ knowing our story is sadly not ours alone and is still unfulfilled for too many.

Last night we gathered for Yom HaShoah, the second while our people remain prisoners, held hostage.

Wishing for Shabbat Shalom

#BringThemHomeNOw