The hardening of Pharaoh’s heart is one of the most confusing aspects of the Exodus story, but has perhaps the most to teach us about freedom and oppression in our world today.
Long ago, in our ancestral past, a deep split occurred in Judaism, creating a division between the person of intellect and the person of the earth.
The blasts of the shofar reverberate in the heart of the earth, amplifying her cries. Are we courageous enough to let those sounds penetrate our hearts, to draw out our cries?
Why do we come to synagogue on Yo Kippur, and what is it that we hope will be waiting for us on the other side of these twenty-four sacred and challenging hours?
Rosh Hashanah is known, among other names, as Hayom Harat Olam, the day the world is conceived. Today is when the forces of the universe unite and the possibility of something new is formed.
How do we, in this generation, understand sin? And what do we believe are the best ways to deal with our sin?
My earliest concepts of God, gleaned from my religious training, were of a power distant and removed at best and vindictive and frightening at worst.
In a society where one’s value or influence is often determined by the amount of money one gives, voices get lost.
“A woman is acquired [in marriage] in three ways…by money, by document, or by intercourse.” This is how the first mishnah in the tractate Kiddushin begins.
Seven weeks after the fall holidays have ended this week’s Torah reading, Vayishlach, offers us a path back into the work of teshuva.