Kristallnacht, which literally means “the night of broken glass,” occurred on the night of November 9, 1938; this date marked the beginning of the Holocaust.

Jews have blessings for almost every occasion. I recommend we recite one before emptying the contents of our parents’ home after they die.

Every year, in this season of renewal, we are given the extraordinary opportunity to begin again.

I invite you to join me in talking about politics in the lead-up to Election Day – but in the spirit of Jewish values, there are a few rules.

I have a hard time believing that, however good the intentions may be, typing "Please forgive me if I hurt you" into our browsers can create change.

I often use the imagery of a bullseye when teaching young children the complicated concepts related to the High Holidays and Yom Kippur. Each day when we try to do our best, it’s like we’re aiming for the center of the bullseye. But sometimes we say something that hurts someone a friend’s feelings, or we do something unkind to a loved one. That’s when we land on an outer ring and miss the mark.

Anyone can open the door to Judaism for another, but will those standing at the door be intimidating shomrim (guards) or welcoming mezuzot (encased Torah texts on doorframes)?
 

We saw a swastika in the sand. “Daddy, are you OK?” my daughter asked, knowing how my family history as a child of a Holocaust survivor affects me. 

Elul is upon us. The sound of the shofar reminds us that this silent epidemic must be addressed. Its cries echo those left in the depths of sorrow, feeling alone, believing that those who love them most would be better off without them. Our fear of mental illness must be replaced with a resolve to educate ourselves and others.