What do we share?

“Tzedek, tzedek tirdof” - “justice, justice, you shall pursue.” We often hear this short phrase in Reform Jewish spaces but we don’t always deeply examine its myriad potential meanings.  The repetition of the word justice implies that justice may be understood in multiple ways. I have seen this in my Rabbinic work: for some, justice means taking social action and feeding the hungry, or doing activism and marching in the streets. For some, it means providing education and answering questions about the Judaism that they learned, so that they can understand their own identity more fully. For some, justice is about healing, or facing a challenge with dignity.  I believe that justice looks different in different contexts. I am committed to exploring what justice is in all aspects of my Rabbinic work.

Growing up, I was taught that Judaism upholds justice as a fundamental value.  I was drawn to the Rabbinate because my religious school classes were where I learned that Jewish values have a voice in the conversation about the moral and social questions of our day: feminism, LGBTQ inclusion, immigration, and so many more. I saw that Jewish conversations mattered and that in Jewish communities, people took care of one another in joyful as well as in tough times, and that the bond over caring for our corner of the world was extraordinary.  I am enthusiastic about my future as a Rabbi, bringing people together and inviting people into deep and resonant Jewish conversations.

In my work as a Rabbinic Intern at Yale’s Slifka Center for Jewish life, I saw that pursuing justice also meant helping a marginalized Reform community on campus find renewed pride in doing Jewish their way. I provided meaningful education so that Reform students felt empowered with knowledge on prayer and Jewish practice, and could explain themselves with confidence when questioned by others.  At times, pursuing justice also meant addressing the greater Hillel community. I addressed the students at Shabbat dinner on the topic of consent on Women’s Shabbat, which fell as the #metoo movement was breaking. I spoke about the first mention of consent in Torah and Jewish law. Afterward, Orthodox and liberal students alike thanked me for bringing a Jewish perspective to the national and campus conversation.  As a Rabbinic voice, it was my obligation.

Pursuing justice as the student Rabbi at Temple Beth Am outside of Pittsburgh meant helping an aging congregation, once vibrant, now suffering due to socioeconomic and demographic shifts, see itself as part of the Jewish world and connected to the movement.  It meant helping them honor their past and their future, and acknowledging the radical changes in numbers that they were experiencing. Part of this was providing meaningful worship, with music that they knew and loved, that reminded them that they had a home and a history within Judaism.  Another part of this pursuit of honor and dignity came in my conversations with them, listening to their fears about the future - providing comfort that was real, not empty promises. It also meant crafting sermons that helped them see their legacy: as a congregation who has hosted rabbinic interns for over 30 years, they have shaped Rabbis and communities all over America.  Helping them see that their lives touched thousands others helped affirm their pride and served as an antidote to anxiety as they faced an uncertain future.

As the cofounder of @Modern_Ritual, an online platform including a website and social media (Instagram) account, I work in partnership with my friend and classmate to model passionate, resonant Jewish life.  We guide people to resources when they’re looking for a community where they can get to know Jewish ritual, holidays, or explore how Judaism might fit into their own lives. We’re interested in helping people see what I learned growing up: that Judaism has a distinct voice to add to our current national conversation; that Judaism can be lived and expressed meaningfully in the modern world.  And it would be beautiful if people were simply able to experience meaningful Judaism that spoke to their lives - but that is not enough for me. I’m not interested in building a Judaism that helps individuals become self-sufficient, uninterested in participating in local and national conversation. I’m interested in continuing to build a Judaism that invites people into the process of healing the world, of working for justice - whether in their professional lives or personal lives.  I’m interested in building a Judaism that builds and heals the world.

I care about building and healing justice-filled Judaism because justice is the foundational value that helped me access the richness of the Jewish tradition: the prayer book, our epic Torah stories and teachings, and the abundance of community.  As a Rabbi, I will continue to think creatively about creating a world in which anyone can experience the depth and texture of Judaism, no matter their motivating principles.