Rabbi Arthur Weiner

This week brought major news about the Gateway Project, the massive undertaking to modernize and expand the rail infrastructure between New Jersey and Manhattan. For those of us who live in this part of the world, this is hardly an abstract policy discussion. It is deeply personal. It is about children and grandchildren commuting to work, family members sitting on delayed NJ Transit trains, and the familiar frustration of hearing about signal problems, tunnel congestion, or yet another inexplicable delay somewhere between Secaucus and Penn Station. When completed, the Gateway Project promises something genuinely transformative: increased rail capacity, far greater reliability, and modernization of one of the most fragile transportation chokepoints in the United States. And yet there is one sobering reality: the full project will take another 20 years to complete. Some reading this Shabbat message may never see its final completion. That naturally raises a question. Why undertake ...

There is a famous story about an emperor who was convinced he was wearing magnificent clothes, when in fact, he was wearing nothing at all. Everyone around him saw the truth, but no one dared to say it. Why? Because they didn’t want to look foolish. They didn’t want to stand apart. They didn’t want to challenge what everyone else was pretending to believe. Until a child spoke up. The emperor isn’t just in the parade anymore. He’s on the red carpet. Looking at some of today’s most high-profile public events and awards shows, whether the recent Met Gala, the Cannes Film Festival, the Grammy Awards or Academy Awards, it’s hard not to feel like we are watching a modern version of that story unfold. Many of the outfits worn by celebrities (and let's tell the truth—we are talking about women’s clothing, or actually, lack thereof) are designed to shock, to reveal, to push boundaries, often leaving very little to the imagination. At a certain point, this isn’t fashion. It’s…something...