A mass shooting in a Pittsburgh synagogue.A mass shooting in the local dance bar.A raging fire, forcing the evacuation of the synagogue and 75 percent of our congregation. This is the story of when the rabbi experienced trauma after these events.
What’s with the raging wildfires and destructive flooding, the mass shootings and mindless meanness all around? How many more need to die to motivate Your mercy, to finally get You to act on our behalf? What the heck is going on with You, God?
How I found faith that got me through these tumultuous years.
When both my parents and mother-in-law died within 20 months, everyone wanted to help. Yet I wasn't ready to receive. Here are 8 ways to help that supported me until I was ready for me.
After 11 deaths in 11 days, I had it out with God. I realized with over 419,000 dead in American fromCovid-19 decimating, it was time for that conversation with the Creator.
COVID-19 could kill us, but it shouldn’t also bring shame upon us or our infected loved ones. And it won’t. Unless we play into the growing stigma that is at once immoral and dangerous to our mental health. If we play into that stigma, then COVID-19 will do both: shame us unfairly while increasing the chances it might kill us.
I feel this sense of deja vu as we began to cancel plans and hunker down. Yes, the coronavirus-compelled communal self-quarantine descending upon our county, state and country felt vaguely familiar. Here's how we get through then and will now.
In a speech at Hebrew Union-College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Or Ami congregant Seth Front kvells about the positive impact that Congregation Or Ami interns and rabbis have had on their daughter Amanda.
A year after the Borderline shooting and the SoCal fires, we reflect on the first person experiences, and explore Torah's insistence that we take action in the face of danger, including mass shootings and changes in climate.
Don't Wait: Lessons from my father-in-law Murray Novembert. (Yom Kippur sermon)
A poem about facing the moments over the High Holy Days - small but meaningful - when my dad won't be there.
A poem about those moments when I'm not feeling the sadness in the midst of the mourning.
Poem about when a friend visited me during my dad's shiva.
Standing for Kaddish that first time is surreal. This poem captures the multitude of feelings as I stood in temple to recite Kaddish for my father Ken Kipnes.
I am still a mourner. A poem about how my body - tears, trembling shoulders, welling up of emotions - remind me that I am still a mourner. Remembering my father, Ken Kipnes.