by Rabbi Misha

Every spring, exactly one week before Passover a unique ritual takes place in the South of India. The local Jews leave their towns, cities and villages, and make pilgrimage to a small, holy mountain tucked away to the east of the backwaters.

by Rabbi Misha

Before I begin, I'd like to invite you all to a very special gathering we're holding this evening, which can connect us to both the reality of the current situation in Israel/Palestine, and the hopeful ways people are working to overcome it.

by Rabbi Misha

It has been fifteen years since I began obsessing over Pharaoh. It began in a tiny village in the south of India, a lush, tropical heaven by a river, where I had come to watch a play. It was a little longer than most plays I had seen with a run time of just over two weeks.

by Rabbi Misha

One of the greatest polemical books in the Jewish canon is The Kuzari, a medieval book by Rabbi Yehudah Halevi. The book tells of the idol-worshipping King of Kuzar, who has a recurring dream, in which he is visited by an angel who tells him: 

by Rabbi Misha

I always remembered my time in the Israeli army as depressing.

by Rabbi Misha

Imagine the world going silent.  

by Rabbi Misha

A happy story is set to reach its climax tonight in my neighborhood in Brooklyn. You’re all invited, and it’s worth accepting and taking the Q train out to Cortelyou Road to witness it tonight at 9pm. 

by Rabbi Misha

Creation is the move from chaos to order that is often obscured by darkness. Like most things in this universe, we can’t see it happening. It’s like the communication between trees, the realization reached by the person next to us on the subway, or the perfect, disjointed unison of a Jazz quartet.

by Rabbi Misha

To mark 100 days of the hostages in captivity, and 100 days of death and destruction, as a means of praying for an immediate ceasefire, an end to the displacement, destruction and killing of innocents, and a safe return of the hostages, I turn to the ancient words of the poet:

by Rabbi Misha

Moses died differently. So did Miriam and Aaron, as well as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. These six all died, according to the Talmud, with a kiss from the shechinah, the gentle presence of God.

by Rabbi Misha

“Never underestimate the power of one small moral act.” This was one of the lines that stuck with me from my father’s talk about the West Bank on Monday.

by Rabbi Misha

At our Shabbat/Hanukkah concert last week I described how my father has been making us all nervous by insisting on spending some nights in Palestinian villages in the West Bank that are threatened by extremist Jewish settlers.

by Rabbi Misha

Norman Lear passed away this week after 101 years of working to bring light and love to this world. I had the good fortune to know Norman and have occasional conversations with him, often expanding on the first thing he ever told me: “We have to take religion back in this country.”

by Rabbi Misha

Despite the ceasefire, I arrived on Monday to a country at war.

by Rabbi Misha

As I write, for the seventh Friday in a row, families of hostages and their many supporters are gathered in front of the Tel Aviv Museum for Kabbalat Shabbat. This is the first week in which there are smiles on some of their faces.

by Rabbi Misha

Late one night, Rabbi Israel Salanter walked past the rickety shack of an old shoemaker. The rabbi noticed that, despite the late hour, the man was still working by the light of a dying candle.

by Rabbi Misha

A Mizrach is traditional Jewish art piece that is placed on the eastern wall of the house.

by Rabbi Misha

One of the infuriating aspects of this war has been the decline of humility. So many people keep telling so many others their unshakeable opinions, often with a moral judgement of anyone who doesn’t hold their opinion.