Rabbi Steven Moskowitz

The following commentary was distributed to rabbis and Jewish leaders throughout the country by the Jewish Federations of North America. Eight years after his brother’s tragic death, the unparalleled medieval Jewish thinker, Moses Maimonides, wrote a letter to a friend, speaking about his recent struggle with mourning and loss: “Now my joy has been changed into darkness: he has gone to his eternal home, and has left me prostrated in a strange land. Whenever I come across his handwriting or one of his books, my heart grows faint within me, and my grief reawakens.” This letter was discovered among the hundreds of thousands of documents uncovered in Cairo’s Ben Ezra synagogue in what is now called the Cairo Genizah. There, hidden away for centuries, were prayerbooks and Bibles, Talmuds and commentaries, holy books scattered among seemingly incidental letters and writings. Several weeks ago I arrived at the synagogue to discover a box of old books. The caretaker informed me that this

Hanukkah arrives this evening and with it the thought of miracles. A great miracle happened there, we proclaim. Nes gadol haya sham. A miracle? “When Mattathias had finished speaking these words, a Jew came forward in the sight of all to offer sacrifice upon the altar in Modiin, according to the king’s command. When Mattathias saw it, he burned with zeal and his heart was stirred. He gave vent to righteous anger; he ran and killed him upon the altar. At the same time he killed the king’s officer who was forcing them to sacrifice, and he tore down the altar.” (I Maccabees 2:23-26) The war was not only against Antiochus Epiphanies but the Jews who supported him. The first battle was in fact Jew against Jew. How is it that a story of the Maccabees fighting against the Syrian-Greeks, and against the Jews who welcomed their culture, became a story of miracles? It is because the rabbis, living centuries after the Maccabees and the corruption to which their rule gave rise, and follo

What follows is my sermon from this past Shabbat in which I discuss the Senate's report on torture. This week we read the story of Joseph and his brothers. The brothers grow increasingly jealous of Joseph. They conspire to kill their younger brother. Then they decide to sell him into slavery. They throw him in a pit and sit down to a meal. I have been thinking about that verse: Vayeshvu le’echol lechem, they sit down to eat. (Genesis 37:25) They turn aside from their brother’s pain. This week I sat at my breakfast table reading the newspaper. I read of the resurgence of antisemitism and the continuation of terror. I read of the tragic death of Eric Garner and the simmering tensions near my home town of St. Louis. I lost my taste for food. We must no longer turn aside from these injustices. I read as well this week’s Haftarah. The prophet Amos declares: Spare Me the sound of your hymns, And let Me not hear the music of your lutes. But let justice well up like w

This week we begin the gripping story of Joseph and his brothers. Joseph is the youngest child of Jacob, born to his beloved wife Rachel. Jacob showers love and affection on Joseph. The brothers become jealous of him. One day they conspire to kill him, but instead throw him into a pit and sell him into slavery. This is how Joseph and then his family, and then ultimately the Jewish people, end up in Egypt. The tension quickly builds in the opening chapter. “When Joseph came up to his brothers, they stripped Joseph of his tunic, the ornamented tunic that he was wearing, and took him and cast him into the pit. The pit was empty; there was no water in it.” (Genesis 37:24) How could Joseph’s very own brothers be so cruel? “Then they sat down to a meal.” (Genesis 37:25) After throwing him into a pit, they callously sit down to eat. And yet how often do we go about our days, eating our meals, as injustices are committed around us? This was the prophets’ keen observation. Abra

Years ago, when studying in Jerusalem, my friend and I skipped an evening lecture to attend a soccer match between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Beitar Yerushalyim. Our teachers were not happy with our decision. Our protests that this too is Israeli culture were dismissed as naiveté. What could we possibly learn at a soccer stadium? How to curse in the most colorful of ways? Israeli soccer is not the highbrow culture of the poet Yehudah Amichai or the novelist Amos Oz. It is not the thoughtful and passionate debate of the beit midrash, the study hall, where I spent most of my days. We watched fights break out. We looked on in disbelief as fans threw a smoke bomb. It was a rather unsatisfying game. The final score was 0-0. It ended in a tie. It concluded with the fans muttering “Teiku.” Modern Hebrew has borrowed a word from Talmudic times. It has lifted a word out of the study hall and brought it to the arena. Teiku is the Talmud’s word for when a debate is concluded without decisi

Jacob awakes from his dream of a ladder reaching toward heaven with angels going up and down and exclaims, “Surely the Lord is present in this place, and I did not know it!” (Genesis 28:16) A Hasidic story. A wealthy man who approaches the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, and asks if he could meet Elijah the Prophet, the messenger of God who rose to heaven in a chariot of fire. The man had heard rumors that Elijah wanders the earth to bless people in need of his help. The wealthy man had achieved great success and counted many accomplishments to his name. Everything he ever wanted, he was able to acquire. (I first heard this story from Rabbi Naomi Levy.) At first the Baal Shem Tov insisted he didn't know how to find Elijah. And then one day the Baal Shem Tov said to the man, "You can meet Elijah this Shabbat. Here is what you must do: Fill up your coach with a Shabbat feast. Pack hallah, wine, chicken and vegetables. Pack cakes and fruit and delicacies and bring it

Terrorism seeks to instill fear. Its goal is to terrorize. The danger of terrorism is that it makes us question doing the most ordinary of things. On Tuesday, in Jerusalem, four Jews were brutally murdered while standing and beginning to pray the Amidah. One brave Druze policeman was killed while saving the lives of his fellow countrymen. In that moment preceding the chanting of the words “Blessed are You Adonai our God; God of our ancestors, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob…” our thoughts are supposed to be focused on God, all distractions are to be pushed aside. We focus on God and God alone. It was in this moment that terrorists burst into the synagogue with their murderous intent. On this occasion their bloodied shouts of “God is great” silenced our “Blessed are You Adonai shield of Abraham.” And yet, we will return to our prayers.... This post continues on The Times of Israel.

This week we read of Sarah’s death. She dies at the age of 127 years and Abraham buries her in the Cave of Machpeleh in Hebron. This begins our attachment to this city located in today’s West Bank. All the patriarchs and matriarchs, with the exception of Rachel, are buried there. Following the mourning for Sarah, Abraham sends his most trusted servant, Eliezer on an errand to find a wife for his 37 year old son, Isaac. (Talk about helicopter parenting!) Eliezer travels to the country of Abraham’s birth and goes there to the town well. The well was the singles bar of ancient times because young women would go there to fetch water. So Eliezer wisely went to the well in order to find a young wife for his master. He decided that he would choose this wife not based on her beauty but instead on her character. And how would he make this determination? He decided that whoever offered to give him water and offer as well to water his camels would be the right woman. “When Rebekah had l

There are certain verses of my holiest of books that haunt my Jewish dreams. Here is one such verse: “Hagar thought, ‘Let me not see when the child dies.’ And she sat a distance and raised her voice and wept.” (Genesis 21:16) And here is the story. Sarah is unable to bear children and so she instructs her husband Abraham to have sexual relations with her maidservant, Hagar. She gives birth to a son and Abraham names him, Ishmael—God will hear. Some years later Sarah, as God promised, miraculously conceives and gives birth to a son, Isaac. According to the Torah she is 90 years old and Abraham 100 at this point. Sarah soon becomes jealous of Ishmael and overprotective of Isaac. She worries that Hagar’s son will supplant her son’s rightful place as heir to Abraham’s promise. Sarah instructs Abraham to banish them. He is troubled by this demand and consults with God. God advises Abraham to heed his wife’s request and reminds him that Ishmael will also become a great nation. Muslim

We recall this week’s portion in the opening benediction of the Amidah with the words: “Blessed are You Adonai shield of Abraham and helper of Sarah.” God is a protecting shield. The Torah recounts: “Some time later, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision. God said, ‘Fear not, Abram, I am a shield to you; Your reward shall be very great.’” (Genesis 15:1) A shield is a military image. It blocks the path of enemies. It leads the charge. It affords added protection. And yet Abram responds: “O Lord God what can You give me, seeing that I shall die childless?” Our hero Abraham addresses only the promise yet unfulfilled and not the reassurance of divine protection. If it were possible to say it appears as if Abraham loses faith. He lacks confidence in the journey he has only recently set out upon. God commands, “Lech lech—Go!” and Abraham goes. And then he begins to doubt the promise, saying in effect, “You told me I am going to be a great nation but how can this be true

In 1862 a reviewer wrote the following about Victor Hugo’s publication of Les Miserables : “One cannot read without unconquerable disgust all the details Monsieur Hugo gives regarding the successful planning of riots.” And yet most people describe the Broadway production of “Les Miserables” to be among their favorites. It is a remarkable show. 150 years after the Paris Uprising of 1832, or depending on your perspective the June Rebellion, with no allegiances to either side in that struggle standing among us, we are afforded the luxury of historical perspective. We can more easily judge the artist’s work. This is among the challenges confronting us when evaluating the production of John Adam’s opera, “The Death of Klinghoffer.” Not only is thirty years insufficient time to grant us an objective, historical view, but the struggle continues. Palestinian terrorists remain our enemies. The memory of a painful summer of war still haunts us. We do not see a death, but murder. And

This evening begins the holiday of Simhat Torah, the day that marks the joy we feel when we begin the Torah reading anew. According to Jewish tradition the Torah is perfect. If a sentence appears repetitive, a word seems curious, a letter seems out of place, the fault cannot be with the Torah, but instead with the interpreter. Each and every week we unroll the scroll and discover a question. And so we begin again. Why does the Torah begin with a bet? If the Torah is without error and authored by the hand of God then why open with the second letter of the Hebrew alef-bet, rather than the first? The rabbis offer suggestions. Their answers are discovered in a collection of sermons called Bereshit Rabbah, a book compiled in the land of Israel during the third century. Rabbi Jonah said: Why was the world created with a bet? Just as the bet is closed at the sides but open in front, so you are not permitted to investigate what is above and what is below, what is before and what is behind

Below is my article distributed by ReformJudaism.org . Our tradition gives life to journeying. The Torah affirms wandering. Usually we think of the Torah in its discrete portions. We divide it up week by week. The reading of these five books can then be more easily completed in one year’s time. On this occasion think of the Torah in its entirety. Early on God promises that we will find fulfillment in a new land. God tells Abraham, “Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1) Abraham and his children and his children’s children build a new life in a new land. For generations our ancestors built a home in this Promised Land, but as everyone knows they become slaves in Egypt until hundreds of years later God rescues them and promises to return them to this land. The remainder of the Torah, actually the majority of the Torah, is about this journey home. We wander for forty years. Near the end of our holiest of boo

What follows is the written text of my Yom Kippur morning sermon exploring the recent war in Gaza, antisemitism and our best response to the world's evils. I returned from my annual trip to Israel searching for a return to normalcy. The signs of the war I left behind appeared everywhere. I ventured to West Neck Beach to join my friends for a morning swim in the Long Island Sound. It is my latest fitness passion: open water swimming. The parking lot was filled with trucks and tents. Apparently West Neck Beach parking lot is the staging area for the filming of “Royal Pains,” a show often filmed in the Huntington area. Over the years there have been times when our showers and bathrooms have been transformed into a Tiki Bar. The signs of the weeks prior reappeared. My mind wandered to my friends and acquaintances waiting at their army units’ staging area on Gaza’s border for the start of the ground offensive. Our parking lot appeared as such a trifling by comparison. A stag

What follows is the written text of my Yom Kippur evening sermon exploring human motivation and in particular the motivation for good. The summer that only recently ended has been an excruciating few months. While the weather was nearly perfect we watched the world slip into chaos. To name but a few of the tragic events there was the shooting down of the Malaysian airliner over the Ukraine, the unchecked terror of the Ebola virus, the racial riots in my hometown of St. Louis and the antisemitic mob hysteria in Europe, the war between Israel and Hamas and the rampaging destruction of ISIS. As ISIS rapes and murders its way across Syria and Iraq, a few Westerners were caught up in its path. Steven Sotloff was such a man. He was gruesomely murdered on September 2nd. He was kidnapped a year earlier. Most people did not know until some time after his death that not only was he Jewish, but Israeli. He made aliya to Israel in 2005. In a letter written in May and smuggled out to hi

A Hasidic tale. Rabbi Hayim of Tzanz used to tell this parable: A man, wandering lost in the forest for several days, finally encountered another. He called out: “Brother, show me the way out of the forest.” The man replied: “Brother, I am also lost. I can only tell you this: The ways I have tried lead nowhere; they have only led me astray. Take my hand, and let us search for the way together.” Rabbi Hayim would add: “So it is with us. When we go our separate ways, we may go astray. Let us join hands and look for the way together.” On Yom Kippur we recount our sins. We examine our ways so that we might mend our wrongs and repair our mistakes. In fact the Hebrew word for sin, cheyt, is better translated as missing the mark. Sin implies that one is tainted by an action, that repair is nearly impossible. Missing the mark, however, suggests that repair is more a matter of getting back on the proper path. And how do we get back on that path? With the help of others. This is

What follows is the written text of my Rosh Hashanah morning sermon exploring why we need the synagogue. I would like to speak this morning about ancient history. On this Rosh Hashanah I wish to meditate on history and wonder aloud about our future. For this occasion I have unearthed a number of artifacts. Here is the first show and tell item. It is of course a record album, an exhibit of classic vinyl. I uncovered this in my basement buried in the boxes from our move eleven years ago to our current home. There remain my albums stacked neatly in the moving boxes, never again to be unpacked until this very moment. Some of my younger students might be marveling at this object. Yes, this is what I once used to play music. To put this in contemporary terms, this double album contains 26 songs, a mere fraction of the 1,000 songs presently on my iPhone. This of course is no ordinary album. It is Pink Floyd’s The Wall . I recall the discussions when this album came out. It wa

A story. The Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, was legendary in his ability to beseech God and thereby gain protection for his people. On one occasion, when the people of his town faced a grave danger the Baal Shem Tov left his modest home and walked deep into the forest. He found there a particular spot and kindled a fire. As he sat by the warmth of the fire, he recited a prayer asking for God’s protection and care. The great rebbe arrived back to town and discovered the threat had passed. Everyone believed that it was the Baal Shem Tov’s actions that had saved the community. Some time later the Jews of the town again found themselves facing danger. Their rebbe, the Baal Shem Tov’s disciple, remembered what his teacher had done a generation earlier. He resolved to do the same. He walked deep into the forest, found the exact same spot, and likewise kindled a fire. Then he realized that he did not remember the words of the Baal Shem Tov’s prayer. And so he sat by the fir