Editorial & Opinion | Musings

08/10/2010 | | Musings

Among the signs of brutality, writes the Polish Nobel Prize winning poet Wislawa Szymborska, a clear conscience is number one.

08/03/2010 | | Musings

‘Judge everyone favorably,” teaches the Mishna. In my years in the rabbinate I have found this is a principle we observe very strictly when it comes to ourselves. We always put our own actions in a favorable light: “I was only trying to help!” or “I only said it out of concern” or “I’m not mean — you are too sensitive!” But when it comes to others, we are too willing, even eager, to assume unflattering motivations. 

07/27/2010 | | Musings

Israeli President Shimon Peres once offered his view on the greatest Jewish contribution to the world: “Dissatisfaction.”

Talk shows and preachers peddle calm and peace of mind. But Peres reminds us of the message of our prophets: Isaiah could not feel satisfied while living amidst anguish and war. Jeremiah could not ignore the widow, the orphan, the corruption around him. 

07/20/2010 | | Musings

In “The Arabian Nights,” Scheherazade keeps herself alive by weaving a narrative spell: her story is so thrilling that the Sultan keeps her around to hear the next night’s continuation.

Staying alive through stories: this is part of the secret of the Jewish people. We tell our tales, day by day, night after night. On Tisha b’Av we recount the story of destruction and loss. On Passover, of liberation and triumph. On Rosh HaShanah, of creation, on Shabbat of rest. Scholars, sages, fiddlers, fools — each magic link in the chain pulls us to the next.

07/13/2010 | | Musings

In December of 1941 Rabbi Unsdorfer, who was later to perish in Auschwitz, wrote the following about Joseph and his dreams, translated by scholar Nehemia Polen:

07/06/2010 | | Musings

When my daughter was 3, she taught me Talmud.

One morning I was making her waffles. When the toaster oven rang I said, “Oh, your waffles are ready.”

She said, “Why did you say ‘oy?’”

“I didn’t, I said ‘oh.’”

“You said ‘oy’” she insisted.

“OK,” I conceded, “I said oy.”

“Aha!” she said, eyes gleaming with toddler triumph. “You misunderstood yourself.”