Entering a Holy Relationship

During my time as the (first!) social justice intern at Women of Reform Judaism, I had many conversations with WRJ leaders from all over the country. I heard time and time again that WRJ was the place where they could combine their dedication to Judaism and the Jewish community and their desire to act for good in the world. Working for social justice in a distinctly Jewish and feminist way created opportunities for more as the sum was greater than each of its parts; engaging with important and vital issues became a spiritual practice, a way to enter a holy relationship.

In the months since I was ordained, I have been working as a rabbi at Temple B’nai Jeshurun (TBJ) in Short Hills, NJ. TBJ is the largest synagogue in New Jersey and has a long history in the area. We are lucky to have diverse experiences and viewpoints represented. I am often humbled by the role I get to play in people’s lives, accompanying them in the lowest moments of grief and the highest moments of joy and celebration. I have a variety of responsibilities, including overseeing the social justice work of the congregation. We have worked on a variety of issues this year, with the primary focus on ending hunger. By partnering with local food pantries and county and state-wide hunger assistance and advocacy organizations, we have tried to take the mandate of feeding the hungry seriously. Those who are most vulnerable in our society are often also experiencing food insecurity. Here, I see over and over again the importance of finding an issue that will galvanize members to action, and how that work can be a deep part of one’s religious practice. Each member of the community participates — from the youngest nursery school students to the young at heart, everyone at TBJ has a role to play. A synagogue is a spiritual home, of course, and it can also be a catalyst for hope, connection, and collective responsibility.

Rather than trying to reinvent the wheel every time we have an idea, our Tikkun Olam Committee often consults with our local partners and the local NJ Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism (RAC) staff on how to move ideas forward. When SNAP benefits were suspended in November, for example, we immediately reached out to the Interfaith Food Pantry of the Oranges (IFPO) and asked what they needed most, given that their numbers were soaring. We put out an emergency call to the congregation and raised thousands of dollars within hours so IFPO could buy fresh produce for their clients. The following week, TBJ contacted the leaders of Mend NJ, a local hunger relief network that works on both advocacy and direct service, to ask what we could do to help. They asked for supermarket gift cards, so we became a drop off site. Strong pre-existing relationships with organizations meant we were able to take immediate action. TBJ members were glad to have some direction for their tzedakah in a moment when the number of people in need was growing, and I was relieved to have partners in this vital work that I knew I could rely on and trust.

While tzedakah is of course always important, we also know that it is not always enough. Our social action initiatives must be paired with social justice. One way to consider this is thinking about the difference between tzedakah, widely understood as charity, and tzedek, justice. They often work together, but we also must understand where they differ and how we can bring both to our communities. Civic engagement and advocacy are critical aspects of fixing our world. At TBJ, our clergy often signs onto letters with RAC-NJ and advocate on issues where we believe there is wide consensus within our community. This is not always easy! In our increasingly polarized society, houses of worship are one of the few places where people with political opinions may still be in relationship with one another. Holding space for challenging conversations is also a part of social justice. We need to be able to talk about issues even when, especially when it is hard. To that end, when I deliver a sermon, I often talk about values, rather than direct politics. Some recent examples include: how to disagree and stay in relationship; the idea that each person was created B’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God; using the characters from our holy stories to inspire us to be braver in the world; and more. By focusing on values, I am hopefully able to inspire others to take deeper action. I am also trying to find more opportunities for TBJ members to engage in direct advocacy where appropriate.

Throughout my time working on these issues, first with WRJ and now at TBJ, I am continually reminded that the pursuit of justice is both a communal endeavor and a personal spiritual journey. The relationships we build, the partners we trust, and the values we seek to embody allow us to transform urgent needs into meaningful action. Whether we are providing direct support to neighbors or advocating for systemic change, our efforts are rooted in a Jewish vision of a world repaired through compassion, courage, and collective responsibility. I carry with me the lessons from WRJ and witness them daily in my rabbinate: that when we unite our commitment to Judaism with our longing to do good, we expand what is possible. Together, we can create a community that not only practices tzedakah and pursues tzedek, but also inspires others to see this work as sacred, sustaining, and profoundly hopeful.