Between the fire and thunder of Sinai, a moral voice rang out clearly with a principle that would be echoed in our tradition time and again: You shall love the stranger for you were strangers in Egypt.
We are intimately familiar with such rabbinic practices such as lighting candles, Kiddush and singing zemirot, Sabbath songs, at the table. We have ingrained the notion of the home as a mishkan me’at, a small sanctuary, and the table at which we eat as the mizbe’ach, the altar. In our individual lives, we may or may not make decisions about what we do or do not observe. Be what may: in our tradition, Shabbat is a presence we cannot deny.
TV interview on Rising Antisemitism in “Ethical Perspectives on the News” by the Inter-Religious Council of Linn County. Featuring Rabbi Esther Hugenholtz and Lisa Heineman, Professor of the University of Iowa.
Brokenness is a universal human experience: everyone has encountered brokenness in their lives, their world or in themselves. Of course, while brokenness is the great leveler, our experience of brokenness is not a level playing field. Some of us are subjected to greater trauma than others; some of us may have more access or resources to heal from or repair the brokenness we face. Nonetheless, I’d wager to say that as I give this sermon, there will a number of you who are encouraged to reflect on what is broken in your lives. It seems as inevitable as death.