"Where are you from?" is a question I can never quite answer without using the phrase "Then I moved to..." five times. A single place that I can call 'home' has never existed -- the world, and its countless cultures, is where I find solace.
The story of Jonah is how a mortal man tried to run away from the mission his Creator had gifted to him. He was subsequently swallowed by an enormous fish which spit him out onto dry land only when he resolved to return to his true mission in life.
A few weeks ago I was filling out paperwork to see a new doctor for a checkup. The questions seemed straightforward, until one stumped me: Are you religious?
Halloween chocolate haunts me. October 31st's abundant temptations of free, sugary treats, with chocolate being the most popular, bumps up against my religious consciousness. Which will prevail?
This is not only about the Washington Navy Yard and Sandy Hook and Colorado and Virginia Tech, horrific events that make headlines; it is also about the over 300 people, including 50 children, that are shot every day in America.
Climate change is one of the greatest moral disasters of human history, because the people who will suffer the most have been the least responsible for its cause. Those of us in the developed countries somehow think that we will escape its results, turning away from the hundreds of millions who will be caught in the whirlwind of misery that is coming.
The prophet Isaiah is on my mind and in my heart more and more. His voice rings in Yom Kippur's Haftarah with messages I fear we've forgotten. With messages I believe we must begin to remember, even if they hurt our hearts. Especially because they hurt our hearts so deeply.
The Temple of the Arts in Beverly Hills has an unusual mission - to promote the spirit and teachings of Judaism through music, art, drama, dance and f...
I'm pledging allegiance to my feelings of admiration, respect and love this Yom Kippur, asking forgiveness for all the times I let the moment of truth die and promising to do better this year... especially to those who matter most to me.
The eve of Yom Kippur is the appropriate time to pick up the phone to friends and family from whom we have drifted and seek to draw closer. This is especially true of those whom we may have wronged. But it's also true of those who have wronged us.
Taking one day a year to remove ourselves from the world in order to undertake deep reflection is a very good thing. Continuing that reflection on a daily basis is even better.
A few years back, during my Logo TV days, I was asked to be Grand Marshal of Orlando Pride. This was a huge honor for me. However, that year torrential rain forced Pride to be moved a month later -- smack dab on Yom Kippur. Oy vey!
On Yom Kippur, our day of renewal, our tradition provides us with stage directions and a powerful script. The day is further enriched by the improvisational theater that we provide ourselves.
Towards the beginning, the primary motivation for my fast was probably a sense of obligation and maybe of accomplishment. But over the course of a decade, I've come to look upon my fast as a privilege -- a complex, deeply personal opportunity.
One of American Jews' great traditions -- not found in the Bible or any other sacred book -- is fretting over whether Jewish Major Leaguers will play on the high holidays, particularly Yom Kippur, the most sacred day in the Jewish calendar.
Jews, who know only too well what it feels like to be wrongfully scapegoated, must stand with our Muslim brothers and sisters when they are subjected to the same kind of defamation and character assassination.