There is a teaching that says that there are two different kinds of arguments, two categories of debate.  The Ethics of our Ancestors, Pirkei Avot, teaches that some debates are for the sake of heaven and other debates are not for the sake of heaven. The rabbis asked, “What does it mean for an argument to be for the sake of heaven?” A debate for the sake of heaven has everlasting value.  It is an argument in which the two sides respect and value each other, where they do not allow their disagreement to mask their humanity.  It is an argument to find some deeper meaning and common ground, not an argument for one side to overpower and control the other. A debate not for the sake of heaven does not have value.  It is an argument where the two sides do not respect each other, where they do not...

“Your trip can be just another vacation, or it can be the journey of your life,” writes Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman in his book Israel: A Spiritual Travel Guide. I still remember my first trip to Israel. I was 18 years old, a senior in High School. It was a teen trip through my home syangogue. I still remember the first time I stepped off the bus. That first breath of fresh air. I’d always heard stories of people kissing the ground upon landing in Israel. The Tel Aviv airport had recently been remodeled. But my friends and I still wanted to kiss the holy ground. So we walked off the bus, onto the Jerusalem stone, knelt down and kissed the holy land. I still remember the first time I saw the Old City, in person. Our trip began at the most perfect look-out point. The Dome of the Rock shone...

I am full of gratitude this evening, for all of you for being here tonight, for helping to create the Sinai community that we all care about so deeply. At the risk of leaving someone out, I would like to thank a couple of people by name. Rabbi Zinn, for coming and speaking this evening. I have been asked many times what it is like to be a Rabbi and have a brother who is also a Rabbi. I am lucky enough to not know anything else. My only experience as a Rabbi is with a brother who is a Rabbi. That is incredibly special. My family, my mother, step-father, sister, brother, sister-in-law, aunt and nephew who are all here this weekend. The values, ethics and ideals that you embody as a family are the ones that I hope to be able to bring with me in everything I do....

As a young child, I loved the holiday of Purim. I would dress up, usually as Queen Esther, head to temple, watch the Purim Spiel and win prizes from playing games at the carnival. One year, dressed in a poofy 80s pink dress, I even ended up in the local newspaper! But, likely, between the ages of 9-22, with the exception of one celebration in Israel, I forgot about the holiday. It seemed, after all, to be a children’s holiday. My love for the holiday of Purim returned when I entered rabbinical school, and discovered the importance of the holiday as an adult. Purim for adults looks quite different from Purim as a child. There’s no carnival or prizes, but the theme of the day remains the same. For all year long, we take ourselves seriously, don’t we? We dress “appropriate” for holidays, for services. Our worship is serious, the...

Houston. Florida. Puerto Rico. Northern California. These are just four of the stories of natural disasters bringing destruction and devastation to our neighbors. As these disasters approach, while they are happening and in their aftermath we often ask ourselves, “What can we do?” With each successive event, many of us have asked the community, “What are we doing?” We can experience a wide range of emotions during these times. At times we feel empathy for those suffering. Other times we feel a sense of helplessness, because of the size and scope of these disasters. Still other times we feel a sense of purpose and energy, knowing that others are in need and we are capable of offering assistance. When approached with any Social Justice problem, we have a number of ways to respond. When faced with disasters as massive and diverse as the floods and fires that have struck our...

When you enter the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, you have a choice to enter through one of two doors: a door marked PREJUDICED or a door marked UNPREJUDICED. A door marked PREJUDICED or a door marked UNPREJUDICED. Which door would you choose? What if the doors were marked with the character traits GENEROUS and GREEDY? Which attribute describes you? Which door would you go through? Or what about MERCIFUL and JUDGMENTAL? Which door would you enter? Chances are, you picked the good doors. If you are like most people you would choose to enter the doors marked UNPREJUDICED, GENEROUS, and MERCIFUL. But cutting edge research shows us there might be a gap between who we say we are and who we actually are.  “Everybody Lies,” was the beginning of a title of a book that came out this past Spring.   The title of this book is compelling, and...

I was sitting in my college dorm room in October of 2004. It was Game 4 of the World Series. I watched as the batter hit a comebacker to the mound and the pitcher flipped the ball to first base. The Boston Red Sox had won the World Series for the first time in 86 years. I sat in shock, unable to respond, unsure of what to do. For a moment. That moment, quickly, wore off. I knew exactly what to do. I knew how to celebrate with my friends around me. I knew to go out into the streets and cheer and shout. This was a completely new experience for me and for all those people around me. None of us had seen this happen before, and yet we all knew exactly what to do. We knew how to behave. None of us had had this experience, and yet...

I was sitting in my college dorm room in October of 2004.  It was Game 4 of the World Series. I watched as the batter hit a comebacker to the mound and the pitcher flipped the ball to first base.  The Boston Red Sox had won the World Series for the first time in 86 years. I sat in shock, unable to respond, unsure of what to do.  For a moment. That moment, quickly, wore off.  I knew exactly what to do.  I knew how to celebrate with my friends around me.  I knew  to go out into the streets and cheer and shout.  This was a completely new experience for me and for all those people around me.  None of us had seen this happen before, and yet we all knew exactly what to do. We knew how to behave. None of us had had this experience, and yet...

A ‘new’ name for an old Sinai tradition: Open Hearts & Open Door begins September 13.   It began in the 1980s as the brainchild of Rabbi Howard Berman: An informal outreach program embracing interfaith families in thinking, discussing, and exploring how to build homes together. Under Rabbi Seth Limmer, it continues …this year as last, with a change of name that reverts to the original: Open Hearts & Open Door (formerly known as Interfaith Outreach).    “It’s a safe place, a place to talk about feelings and ideas,” he explains. “Now we’re recapturing the spirit and promoting our resources for conversations, no matter if you’re a Sinai member or not.” Every month, from September through May, with the guidance of Rabbis Limmer and Zinn, couples gather to talk about holidays and activities, rituals around specific lifecycle events, as well as the similarities and differences. Dating, married, kids or not:...

March 11, 2000. The day I became a Bat Mitzvah. The Torah portion was Pekudei, the very last Torah portion in the book of Exodus. I chanted both my Torah and Haftarah, and then I delivered my very first d’var Torah. My Torah portion was about building the Tabernacle and all of the details needed to set its foundation. That morning I shared with my family and friends that my Bat Mitzvah was the foundation of my Tabernacle, for it was only the beginning of my Jewish journey... I was only 12 years old. Over the past two years, I have officiated a little over 20 Bar and Bat Mitzvah ceremonies and attended countless others. Each Saturday morning, I find myself proud of the young man or young woman as they lead the congregation in worship, read from the Torah and deliver their d’var Torah. The liturgy for Shabbat morning,...