A huge complex uncovered near what some believe to be the Biblical birthplace of Abraham is exciting researchers who for years were unable to investi...

Partners in Torah brings you Harry's Video Blog and the always entertaining Harry Rothenberg. In this week's Torah portion, Parshat Terumah, the Jewish people are commanded to build the Tabernacle and the Ark while still in the desert. Trees don't grow in the desert.

After the natural disaster, begins the race among readers of holy texts to say something stupid regarding the "reason" for the suffering. This is especially tempting when the weekly Torah portion, Vayera, is the tale of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Any Jew, Christian or Muslim who bothers to look into the face of Sikhism will find the face of the God of Love looking back. The same is true for any of the world's religious and spiritual traditions.

Forgiveness clears our mind of the detritus of a million small grudges, lifting the burden and physical and psychic stress of resentment. It has been established: people who forgive easily lead healthier, happier and more spiritually meaningful lives.

Is it religion that specially tempts people to intolerance or just plain old human nature? Are human beings as such tempted to intolerance?

As the world watches a man attempt to sacrifice his son in response to quiet voice in his head, it should give us pause for other such moments in history carried out by men we now deem holy.

The story of Exodus tells us over and over again that all human beings fear change even when all the evidence is pointing towards how much better the unknown will be.

Our aspiration shall be to imitate the prophets and messengers of God.

Time and again, Abraham is asked to sacrifice like no normal person is, or could be. He is asked to abandon, or take the life of his child, and God in each case intervenes. God saves. God guides.

Awe of creation and the Creator permeates one of the central biblical texts of Rosh Hashanah: the binding of Isaac. In a Jewish-environmental context, one rabbinic interpretation might be called an "eco-conscious" reading.

Consider Abraham, one of the cornerstones of the Judeo-Christian faith. He's the man from whom we all descend. But according to his example, I should be willing to kill my own children to prove I am a faithful servant of God.

The Torah teaches that the earliest civilizations knew God's unified nature quite well but that there was an unfortunate descent of comprehension over the generations.

The right wing punditry is at it again this year, stirring up a sense of victimization by claiming there is a "war on Christmas". In fact, Christianity wouldn't exist without the eclectic collection of ideas and practices that were the diverse roots from which it grew,

I think the future of God lies not in religion, but outside of it.

As the great theologian Howard Thurman put it, "Ask yourself what makes you come alive and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

This year at Eid Al Adha, a celebration of second chances and forgiveness, we must remember this lesson as we continue to witness new beginnings that seem promising but fade with time.

Abraham's feeling of need to show faith in this way was fundamentally misguided. God had already established a covenant with him in Genesis 17; his decision to sacrifice Isaac went well beyond the scope of their pact.