What is the appropriate way to conceive of midnight for Reform Jewish religious purposes? Halachic? Secular? Or a little bit of both?
Some say Sukkot has become a marginal holiday for Reform Jews because it isn’t rooted in easily understandable rituals. But I can’t imagine a holiday more rooted in the fundamentals of being Jewish…and human.
No one has the right to tell you who you can and cannot love. So why do denominational rabbinic programs attempt to make that decision for their students?
There is no Judaism, much less humanity, without community. Words and deeds that set us apart from each other are, perhaps, the greatest sins of all.
Not even trying to hide it, they both gaped in our direction with an enormously puzzled look on their faces. I saw the rest of this blog post coming: ‘Can I ask you a question? Do you know what you’re wearing on your head?’
If, in fact, we are our brother’s keeper, doesn’t our responsibility towards others include refraining from tearing each other down as we seek to elevate ourselves?
Honest Reform Jews struggle to determine whether they feel commanded to respond to individual mitzvot. Sometimes they arrive at controversial conclusions. That’s how I started wearing tzitzit.
In theory, Reform Jews can follow any commandment by which they feel moved. But some traditional practices move few Reform Jews. Praying every morning with tefillin is usually one of those practices. Here’s why it moves me–and why that’s just fine.
The beauty of Reform Judaism is the freedom to adopt traditional practices that speak to your heart. The beast of Reform Judaism is getting the fish eye from Reform Jews who think adopting tradition makes you Orthodox. Problem is, tradition is just what many potential converts–like me and my kippah-covered head–are attracted to.