Rabbi Steven Moskowitz

Following the detailed instructions for building the tabernacle we find the command not to work on Shabbat. We are forbidden from performing creative labors. Just as we built the tabernacle so too do we build what Abraham Joshua Heschel calls a “palace in time.” We accomplish this by refraining from work. The rabbis in fact derive the list of forbidden Shabbat labors based on what was done to build the tabernacle. It is a curious notion. We fashion a holy day by not doing. Sure, there is much that we are commanded to do on Shabbat: recite the kiddush, sing our prayers, read Torah, eat a grand meal to name a few, but the day’s spirit is created by saying no to a long list of labors. It is an exhaustive, and perhaps even tiresome, list of prohibitions. Among these is the command: “You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the sabbath day.” (Exodus 35) This is among the more confusing commandments. People will often say, “Driving my car is not work. Turning on my l

When interviewing for jobs people compile resumes that feature their career highlights, focusing on their many successes. Promotions are featured. Rewards are delineated. Missteps are reframed. Brief tenures are deleted. A recent The New York Times article suggests that we would be better served, and grow and learn even more, if we also tallied a failure resume. Tim Herrera writes: Keeping a failure resume — or Anti‑Portfolio or CV of Failures or whatever you’d like to call it — is simple: When you fail, write it down. But instead of focusing on how that failure makes you feel, take the time to step back and analyze the practical, operational reasons that you failed. Did you wait until the last minute to work on it? Were you too casual in your preparation? Were you simply out of your depth? There are countless things that can go wrong when we’re trying to accomplish our goals or advance our careers. But those things are opportunities, not derailments. I wonder. Perhaps the ent

I have received many emails during the past week regarding Representative Ilhan Omar’s antisemitic tweets. Some were from the many organizations I support. Others were from friends and congregants. My Republican friends write, “See I told you so. The Democrats hate Israel. They provide fertile ground for a growing antisemitism among liberals.” My Democratic friends, however, find antisemitism on the other side of the aisle and write, “See I told you so. President Trump continues to offer oxygen to racists, neo-Nazis and white extremists.” Antisemitic hatred grows. Its venom is heard more and more. It exists on both the right and left. It can be found among Democratic and Republican supporters. I remain perplexed. Why must every instance of antisemitism be used as confirmation of one’s vote? Why must every discussion of this resurgent problem begin with the words, “See I told you so.”? Antisemitism is an increasing threat. Let us be clear and unified about this fact.... Th

Where can God best be discovered? The Bible offers a multiplicity of answers. It is as my teacher once remarked a symphony of voices. King Solomon suggests we find God in the Temple. The prophet Isaiah among those who care for the downtrodden and oppressed. The psalmist turns to God’s creation. Moses too first meets God in nature. Of course he discovers God in the most ordinary, and perhaps even lowly, of places—a bush. (Is this to suggest that people can find God anywhere and everywhere if Moses first sees God in a bush? Or is it to teach that people need to develop a Moses-like intuition so that they might discern God’s presence in even the most ordinary of places?) Mary Oliver writes: “The god of dirt came up to me many times and said so many wise and delectable things, I lay on the grass listening…” The psalmist affirms her insight. These poets give voice to Moses’ discovery. “The heavens declare the glory of God, the sky proclaims God’s handiwork.” (Psalm 19) And