Originally given during Shabbat services at Beth Israel Congregation on Friday, September 4, 2026.

Some distances between people feel impossible to cross.

A careless word. A betrayal. An apology that never came. Something we said and desperately wish we could take back.

And when the distance becomes wide enough, we start looking across it—waiting for something to change on the other side.

But what if that’s not where the way back begins?

This week, Torah gives us a haunting image: “It is not beyond the sea.”

The ocean may be real. The hurt may be real. Reconciliation may still be a very long way off.

And yet:

Distance is measured in miles. Return is measured in direction.

What might change if teshuvah begins not when we finally reach the other shore—but in the moment we stop walking away?

Read “Across the Sea,” a reflection on Nitzavim-Vayeilech, broken relationships, and the first step of return as we approach the High Holy Days.

Originally delivered Friday services on September 28, 2026.

What does it mean to say Amen when we don’t know what comes next?

In Parashat Ki Tavo, Israel stands between blessing and curse and accepts a covenant that will reach generations not yet born. At a baby naming, that ancient Amen takes on new meaning: bringing a child into the world means saying yes not only to the blessing, but to everything that loving and raising a child may ask of us.

What does it mean to say Amen to the whole thing?

Originally given Friday, August 21, 2026, during Shabbat services:

In Parashat Ki Teitzei, Torah commands us to use honest weights and measures. During Elul—a season devoted to examining our middot, our own “measures”—that ancient command raises a deeply personal question: Do we judge ourselves, the people we love, and the people we struggle with by the same standard? The Weights We Carry explores what it means to practice accountability with an honest scale—and to notice when our own thumb may be tipping the balance.

Originally delivered at Northminster Baptist Church on August 16 as part of the annual pulpit swap between Northminster and Beth Israel Congregation.

“Come closer.” Joseph speaks these words to the brothers who once betrayed him—and they echo through a story of justice, hospitality, and relationships that can deepen even after decades. Coming Closer reflects on what becomes possible when we tell the truth about where we have been, open our doors to one another, and discover that even old friends can still become closer.

Deuteronomy is the book of Shema — of listening. So why does this week's portion open with See?

I sat with that question all week, and with an image I could not shake: the soul as a window of colored glass, every trait its own color, the light coming through all of them at once.

Then I found out the image was not mine…

There is something beautiful about the rhythm of the Jewish calendar.

Just weeks ago, we sat together with the sorrow of Tisha B'Av. We remembered a city in ruins, a Temple destroyed, and generations of loss. We allowed ourselves to acknowledge what is broken—not only in our history, but in our own lives.

Judaism, however, never leaves us in mourning for long.

As August unfolds…

Have you ever noticed how Judaism has blessings for things most of us simply pass by—a rainbow, thunder, bread, even good and bad news? This week's Torah portion asks a surprisingly timeless question: What if the greatest spiritual danger isn't suffering, but becoming so comfortable that we stop noticing the gifts already surrounding us? This latest reflection on Parashat Eikev explores how a simple blessing can teach us to see the ordinary with new eyes.

There is something different about seeing Jewish children together at camp. Judaism gets out of the classroom and into their bodies. It gets loud. It gets sweaty. It gets covered in lake water and grass and paint.

There is a sentence in Parashat D’varim that sometimes slips by us each year without much notice. As Moses begins his final retelling of Israel's journey through the wilderness, he says something unexpected:

"Adonai was angry with me also because of you..." (Deuteronomy 1:37)