Category: religion

The Palace of Redactions: A Modern Megillah

On Purim, we wear masks to hide our faces. But the Megillah is a story about taking masks off. It is about a world—much like our own in 2026—where wealth and status are the ultimate masks. Behind the silk curtains of Shushan and behind the redacted lines of the Epstein files, the same crime is hidden: the belief that some people are “taken” (lekach) for the pleasure of those who are untouchable. Today, we aren’t just celebrating a victory; we are demanding a revelation.

The Megillah is a crime report of systemic objectification. The “law of the women” (Esther 2:12, Sefaria) turned state-sponsored trafficking into a standardized procedure. This mirrors our modern “Dat” (decree): the Non-Prosecution Agreements and Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs) that transformed silence into a contractual obligation. When abuse is cloaked in the law, it becomes invisible.

Neither Ahasuerus nor Epstein acted alone. Ahasuerus relied on seven advisors—the enablers who legalized cruelty to protect the throne and the men in power. Today, we see this in the strategic redactions that shield the powerful while the victims’ trauma remains exposed.

A just society cannot be built on the minimum files the system is willing to release. Our call to action is to mirror Esther’s courage. She moved from being a nameless body to an active agent of justice who acted lo chadat—not according to the “rules” of the elite.

We must demand accountability from the enablers, not just from the predator. Mordecai’s challenge echoes today: “And who knows, perhaps you have attained to royal position for just such a crisis.” (Esther 4:14, Sefaria)

We are called to be the generation that finally tears down the palace walls and unmasks the truth.

May we be blessed with the eyes of Esther, to see through the redactions and masks of our own time. May we be granted the voice of Vashti, to say NO to the commodification of our bodies and our dignity. And may we be filled with the resolve of Mordecai, to understand that our positions of safety are not for our comfort but for the protection of those still trapped behind palace walls.

May the light of truth scatter the darkness of the inner court, and may we see a day when justice is a shared inheritance for all.

 

Thoughts on our current War-A War of Choice vs. a War of Necessity

The distinction between a war of choice and a war of necessity can be ambiguous. Most individuals fall into one of three categories: support, opposition, or uncertainty.

I find myself in the third category. War is a profoundly destructive force that aims to annihilate and devastate. Beyond the immediate destruction, the future remains shrouded in uncertainty. Which threats are imminent? The question defies a straightforward answer.

The First World War was a precursor to the Second World War, which in turn led to the reconstruction of Europe and the onset of the Cold War.

Explanations justifying the actions of the United States and Israel in the present context are imperative. Congress should have been adequately informed in advance and must exercise its constitutional authority to authorize war. The support of allies is crucial, though not indispensable. However, without their consultation, the partnership’s strength is significantly diminished.

Once the initial damage is done, it is time to transition to the next phase. If a complete repair is not undertaken, we risk fomenting another round of dissatisfaction and hatred, perpetuating the cycle indefinitely.

I earnestly desire peace, not merely the cessation of war but the capacity to coexist harmoniously despite our differences, marked by empathy, respect, and mutual understanding. Then, might the path forward be hopeful.

 

Shabbat Shalom

I find myself drawn to the folk music and protest songs of an earlier tumultuous time in this nation’s history and some of the current balladeers singing about the need for justice in a time of injustice.

As Black History month draws to a close, and the work of civil rights seems more urgent than ever, I wanted to welcome Shabbat with Teach Your Children, the classic from Crosby Stills and Nash.

Wishing everyone Shabbat Shalom

Parshat Tetzaveh-Responsible Governing for the People

Parshat Tetzaveh marks a pivotal shift in the wilderness narrative of the Jewish people. While previous portions focused on the physical Tabernacle, Tetzaveh focuses on the human element: the inauguration of the Kohanim (priests). By establishing this dedicated class, the Torah ensures a disciplined bridge between the Divine Presence and B’nei Israel.

The transition from building structures to preparing “human vessels” reminds us that even the holiest space requires empathetic leadership to come to life. The priesthood was not an elite social hierarchy but a role of “functional holiness.” In Exodus 28:1, God commands Moses to “bring near” Aaron and his sons to serve, separating them to manage the meticulous maintenance of the Mishkan, which the general population could not sustain.

The priestly garments are a physical manifestation of this duty. The Choshen (Breastplate) bore the names of the twelve tribes, ensuring that the Kohen Gadol (High Priest) literally carried the nation’s weight “on his heart” (Exodus 28:29). This teaches that a leader’s primary function is representation and empathy, not merely ritual performance.

Faithfulness among the Kohanim was measured by adherence to strict protocols. The Milu’im (consecration process) involved smearing blood on the right ear, thumb, and big toe (Exodus 29:20), symbolizing a total commitment to:

  • Hearing: Attuning oneself to Divine instruction.
  • Action: Performing service with precision.
  • Movement: Walking a righteous path.

The Ner Tamid (Eternal Flame) serves as the ultimate metaphor for this duty. Commanded to kindle the lamps “from evening to morning” (Exodus 27:21), the priests maintained a consistency that transcended personal fatigue. Their faithfulness was embodied in the Tamid—the “always.”

The discipline required to keep the light burning is a powerful metaphor for contemporary society. Capricious or arbitrary leadership undermines the sacred role of those dedicated to preserving institutions. Just as the Kohanim served the Mishkan, today’s dedicated bureaucrats and elected leaders play a critical role in upholding the rule of law.

Long before democracy took its modern form, our tradition recognized that power is a sacred responsibility to the people. This value remains central to the rule of law and equal protection. Like the Kohanim, we are entrusted with preserving these “eternal flames” for generations to come.

 

Terumah-Power to the People

In Parshat Terumah, the transition from Sinai’s abstract thunder to the Mishkan‘s detailed blueprints offers the ultimate master class in institution-building. It suggests that while revelation provides the “why,” the institution provides the “how”—transforming a fleeting spiritual moment into a sustainable communal reality.

At Sinai, the relationship with the Divine was a “top-down” event—overwhelming and temporary. In Terumah, this is reversed by the command: “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8). The shift here is profound, creating sustainability. Inspiration was found at Sinai. It is a spark; an institution becomes the hearth that keeps the fire burning. The text then speaks of a dwelling, with an interesting word choice: it doesn’t say God will dwell in it (the building), but among them (the people). The institution is not the goal; it is the vessel that allows the communal presence to persist. The idea is further elucidated as the focus shifts to the people’s action.

The word Terumah means “to lift up” or “set aside.” Crucially, the materials for the sanctuary were not collected through a flat tax but from “every person whose heart prompts them to give.” This reveals two core principles of healthy institutions. The first is shared ownership; when people contribute their own “gold, silver, and copper,” they are no longer spectators; they are stakeholders. The second is the diversity of people’s contributions. The Mishkan required everything from precious metals to goat hair. This teaches that an institution is only robust when it integrates the varying capacities of its members—from the wealthy benefactor to the skilled artisan.

This Parsha is known for its precise measurements—cubits of gold, rings of silver, and specific wood types. These details serve a vital purpose. They instill discipline and consistency. Without a structured “sanctuary,” collective energy dissipates. The Mishkan’s physical boundaries protected the sanctity of the community’s mission. This consistency ensured that the institution’s values of justice and holiness weren’t subject to the leader’s capricious mood or the crowd’s whims, but were anchored in a permanent, repeatable structure.

Our times test our understanding of what it means to live in community, bound together by the rule of law, freedom, dignity, and respect for all people. We need each other, and together we are stronger and less susceptible to those impulses. To ensure our country and its institutions endure, we must give of ourselves, investing in its care and championing the values at our core.

 

 

Mishpatim and the Modern State

Ra'anan
Ra’Anan

In Parashat Mishpatim, we move from the heights of Sinai and the grand laws given by God to Moses to the granular details of civil law. The shift teaches that a righteous society is built not on abstract ideals but on the daily, impartial application of the Rule of Law.

Mishpatim introduces three pillars essential to our current struggles:

  • Resistance to Tribalism: Exodus 23:2 warns, “You shall not follow the multitude (the mighty) to do evil.” In an era of “mob justice,” strongman tactics, and polarized echo chambers, this mandate requires that truth must supersede the pressures of the crowd.
  • Absolute Impartiality: The text prohibits favoring the wealthy or the poor in judgment. Legitimacy and order collapse when the law is seen as a tool for the powerful or a shield for the ideologically aligned. The blindfolded Lady Justice proclaims that all should be treated equally under the law.
  • Protection of the Vulnerable: By repeatedly centering the “stranger,” the Torah insists that legal structures are only as strong as the protections they afford the marginalized. A society’s greatness is defined by how it protects its most vulnerable.

Our institutions are threatened as society’s trust in them erodes. Mishpatim reminds us that an orderly society is a deliberate choice, one that requires our involvement and confidence. Our future as a nation and world leader depends on upholding a system in which the rule of law anchors us against the storms of political passion

Thoughts on the Tu B’Shvat

I write this, it is Groundhog Day and Tu B’Shvat!

The American Sage, Punxsutawney Phil, has predicted another 6 weeks of winter. It is incredible where we get our news!

More importantly, I would argue that this is the 15th day of the month of Shvat, Tu b’Shvat. This day marks the beginning of the new year for trees.

It is about the rebirth that will come from life that has gone dormant during the winter within the greater cycle of the year. We could not have a more apt metaphor for what is happening in our lives. The brutal and violent transgressions of the Federal Government through ICE and the Border Patrol, as well as the multiple assaults on human dignity and respect, seem to have seeded the birth of a popular uprising against these violations of our rights.

As spring approaches, the trees will blossom, and warmth will fill the air. But the rededication to our ideals requires us to act. Our tradition teaches that we are partners with God in the ongoing work of creation. Now is our time to commit to this sacred task. We must each ask ourselves what we are able or willing to do, and get to work.

In the harshest, coldest, and darkest times, hope arises that something better is coming. The Jewish tradition and the founding principles of our country require us, in the words of Abraham Lincoln, to work to ensure “a government of the people, by the people and for the people shall not perish from the face of the earth.”

Wishing you a happy Tu b’Shvat.

Rabbi David

The complexities of Menorah Lighting made simple

People have been asking me how to light the Hanukkah Menorah, or Chanukiah. Should you light from left to right or right to left? And is that perspective from the person lighting the candles or from the window where others see it? Who knew it could be so complicated! Of course, this assumes we’ve already answered other questions: do we light all the candles every night or just one additional candle each night? Do we all light the same Menorah, or does each person get to light their own? Oy!

But the answer is that we have our opinion on the proper way for it to be done, which is as follows:

Facing the Menorah, we light the candle for the newest night, then light the rest of the lights. Our tradition says we should say the blessing and then do the thing for which we said the blessing immediately afterward. But because there are at least two blessings (three on the first night), many of us light while the blessings are in process.

But the most important rule of all is that we participate in the Hanukkah celebration by lighting the candles.

So, how do you light the Menorah?

With intention!

Chag Urim Sameach- Happy Festival of Lights

Chag Chanukah Sameach, Happy Hanukkah

Chanukah

We prepare for the first night of Hanukkah, deeply shaken by the murderous assault on Bondi Beach and at Brown University.

The wanton hatred and violence are almost overwhelming. But we must find a way to gather this evening around our chanukiot, light our candles, place them in the window, and be with each other, letting the miracle of rededication take hold with an additional layer of meaning, overcoming the darkness of the moment and shining a light of love and hope.

Chag Urim Sameach,

Rabbi David Levin

President

The Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia