Yitro reminds us, in the twisted reality of our time: do not quiet your intuition.

Defy the new norms. Live from your deepest moral convictions,

not your most callous political calculations. And do not eat the tainted grain—

no matter how hungry you are. Keep searching for an alternative food source.

There is always another food source.

Four postures our tradition warns against, in the face of grave threat:

Do not snail.

Do not capitulate.

Do not meet become the mirror image of your enemy.

Do not render yourselves preemptively powerlessness.

Instead: do what you know.

We are all struggling in this moment of deep darkness - either riding the constant emotional rollercoaster or already feeling numb. The thing is that both of these will destroy us. Instead, we need to stay connected to our humanity and each other to get us through. That is the only way we will find ourselves back in the light. 

How do American Jews navigate complex conversations about Israel and Palestine across generations? And what does it take to truly listen to each other? Rabbi Sharon Brous sits down with IKAR’s CEO Melissa Balaban and her daughter Emma Wergeles to reflect on their recent trip to Israel and the West Bank with Encounter. From different generational perspectives, they share what challenged them, what moved them, and why direct engagement with both Palestinian and Israeli perspectives is essential for for any hope of a lasting and just peace.

This is the moment to remember who we are, to ground ourselves in the story that stands in determined opposition to the story of tyranny. To tell of a God who cares about the vulnerable. To become again a people whose faith compels us to protect the frightened. 

After 15 months of catastrophic loss, unspeakable heartache, and the utter undoing of not one but two peoples—in body and spirit, we stand—at this moment—at an inflection point. May this be the beginning of the end of the suffering. May it be the beginning of the path toward a just peace.

Read the sermon here.

Even as the fires burn, let us hold on another, give voice to what we have lost, and turn toward what remains.

How did Joseph, a man hardened by one life experience after the next, soften his heart to forgive his brothers? A remarkable midrash imagines a conversation between Joseph and Benjamin that changes everything. Ten names and all the worlds of meaning, of missing, of memory they contain.

What is Joseph's legacy? And what can we learn from the character with the most costume changes in all of the Torah?