Rabbi Arthur Weiner

As I have mentioned over the years, I have never been a fan of “themed” Shabbats. The only exception I make to this policy is Religion and Science Weekend (formerly known as Evolution Weekend ), a project of the Clergy Letter Project, a community of thousands of American religious leaders concerned about the assault on science in many corners of American political and religious life. Religion and Science Weekend is an opportunity for serious discussion and reflection on the relationship between religion and science. The goal is to elevate the quality of discussion on this critical topic, and to demonstrate that religion and science are not adversaries. Rather, they look at the natural world from different perspectives and ask, and respond to, different questions. At a time when religion is all-too-often being equated with fundamentalism and when our nation is in a deep and troubling period of science-denialism in public life, it is critically important to engage this topic directly a...

Earlier this week, I received an email from a dear friend and colleague, one of the most prominent and influential Rabbis in the United States. It’s always wonderful to see the men and women with whom I studied during my years in Rabbinical school succeed in their careers, and lead their communities with such distinction. It is not uncommon for Rabbis and professional colleagues, or even your colleagues, associates, and friends to append their professional titles, accreditations, and the like to the bottom of their emails. Some add a graphic of some sort as well. Some people like to add a meaningful quote.  More and more, I see many people adding he/him/his or she/her/hers as a symbol of respect and solidarity to the LBGTQ community. But appended to the very bottom of this email was the following sentence: Mindful of the Gabrielino/Tongva peoples as the first caretakers of Tovaangar (Los Angeles basin, South Channel Islands) Wait … what?  What is that all about? I nee...

Two weeks ago, my Shabbat message was entitled Dear Governor Murphy , Speaker Coughlin, and President Scutari: You Failed New Jersey’s Jews . In that message, I spoke with you about how New Jersey’s political leadership failed to bring the IHRA antisemitism definition bill to a vote, despite its broad bipartisan support in both the Assembly and the Senate. I also wanted you to see the public letter, signed by over 100 Rabbis serving communities throughout New Jersey, expressing our profound disappointment and outrage at that decision. Given the media attention that has surrounded the Rabbi's letter, the organizers of this campaign are now encouraging members of the general public to sign a similar letter. This new letter is directed to Governor Sherrill and the leadership of the NJ State Assembly, urging them to act without delay and pass this critical legislation. I am asking all those who read my Shabbat message to read the letter that follows carefully and if you agree ...

Dear Governor Sherrill, Mazal Tov on your recent election and inauguration as Governor of the State of New Jersey. This moment is a significant personal achievement and a meaningful milestone for our state. I want to wish you much success as you assume the responsibilities of leadership, and pray that your tenure will be marked by wisdom, courage, and a deep commitment to the well-being of all New Jersey’s residents. New Jersey has a habit of producing leaders who attract national attention. Ambition, in itself, is not a flaw.   It can even be a blessing. But leadership begins at home, and in this moment, the needs of New Jersey’s Jewish community cannot be deferred or diluted. As we welcome Shabbat, we mark your recent election as Governor of New Jersey with both hope and expectation. Jewish tradition teaches that leadership is not measured by how far one’s voice carries, but by how carefully one listens, especially to those who feel newly vulnerable. And today, many Jewis...

There are moments in Jewish life when a Rabbi’s words or message to their community must comfort, moments when they must persuade, and moments when they must confront. This Shabbat is not a moment for soft language or careful equivocation. The title of this message is not reckless; it is deliberate. The title names responsibility without demonizing motives, addresses actions and outcomes without impugning souls, and speaks to those in power rather than speaking as partisans to opponents. At a time when antisemitism is rising and Jewish fear is endlessly contextualized rather than addressed, gentleness can become a form of evasion. Religious leadership demands truth-telling as well as compassion, especially when that truth is uncomfortable. To speak plainly now is to model for our community that Jewish fear does not need to be endlessly translated into more palatable language before it is taken seriously — and that Jewish safety and dignity are not negotiable. Last Friday, the New J...

This week we begin the book of Shemot , the story of our people’s descent into slavery and, ultimately, their redemption. And the Torah opens with a single, chilling verse: “Vayakam melech chadash al Mitzrayim, asher lo yada et Yosef.” “A new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.” It is one of the most consequential sentences in the Torah, and one of the most disturbing. How could Egypt not know Joseph? Joseph was not a minor figure lost to history. He saved Egypt from famine. He reorganized its economy. He was, in effect, the architect of Egypt’s prosperity. And yet, suddenly, the Torah tells us that a new king arose who “did not know” him. Our traditional commentators are almost unanimous in their understanding that this was not ignorance. It was willful forgetting. It was a conscious decision to erase an inconvenient past in order to justify a new and dangerous present. That act of historical distortion is what sets slavery in motion. Oppression doesn’t begin wi...