From the Bimah: Jewish Lessons for Life

Latest Episodes:

Brotherhood Shabbat Sermon with Guest Speaker Rabbi Elan Babchuck Feb 28, 2026

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Rabbi Elan Babchuck serves as the Executive Vice President at Clal (National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership) and the Founding Executive Director of Glean Network, which partners with Columbia Business School. He has published in The Atlantic, The Guardian, Washington Post, and Religion News Service, writes a column for The Wisdom Daily, contributed to Meaning Making – 8 Values That Drive America’s Newest Generations (2020, St. Mary’s Press) and is the co-author of Picking Up the Pieces: Leadership After Empire (2023, Fortress Press). His newest book about Shabbat, Sacred Time, is coming out in 2027.

He also serves as a Founding Partner of Starts With Us, a movement to counteract toxic polarization in America, and is a founding Research Advisory Board Member of Springtide Research Institute.

Talmud Class: Johnny Gaudreau's #13 Jersey in the Olympic Gold Victory Photo Feb 28, 2026

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What do we do with what we remember? How does what we remember cause us to act? This question comes from two places.

It is Shabbat Zachor, the special Shabbat before Purim when we remember Amalek that hated us, that tried to kill us, and that inspired commands to never forget that hate, and to respond in kind.

And it is the week of the US Men’s Hockey Team’s first Olympic gold in 46 years. Poignantly, the team’s victory picture included the #13 jersey of their teammate, and hockey super star, Johnny Gaudreau, who was killed along with his brother Matthew in August, 2024 while they were riding bikes by a drunk driver at the wedding weekend of their sister. The team also featured Goudreau’s young children in the photo.

All of us move through life carrying all sorts of memories. Painful memories that evoke hurt, loss, indignation, grievance. Joyful memories that evoke triumph, accomplishment, blessing. We carry the memories of people whom we have loved and lost who were always there for us. And the memories of people who disappointed and wounded us.

What do we do with all those memories? There is a special mitzvah in Jewish tradition to remember: zachor. There is a special Shabbat, tomorrow, to focus on remembering.

Remembering is the easy part. Where the rubber hits the road: what do we do with what we remember?

Shabbat Sermon: DIY Instructions for the Tabernacle? What Did Moses Receive at Sinai? with Rabbi Peretz Rodman Feb 21, 2026

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The Torah offers more than one account of what was revealed to Moses on Mt. Sinai. This week’s reading, Terumah, suggests that the Ten Commandments were not the focus of revelation. What are the implications for us of the different portrayals of Moses’ experience?

About Rabbi Peretz Rodman

Rabbi Rodman is a Jerusalem-based writer, translator, and editor. A native Bostonian, he has studied and taught at Brandeis University, Hebrew College, and the Rothberg International School of the Hebrew University.

Talmud Class: A Spiritual Response to a Sordid Saga Feb 21, 2026

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There is a depressing news story that won’t go away. There are fresh chapters every week. The story goes something like this: People who were preeminent in their field—law, business, finance, real estate, professional sports, entertainment, higher education, medicine, health and wellness, spiritual counseling, politics, government—were emailing with a registered sex offender.

What is that? So many people. So many different fields. So preeminent. So polished. So terribly off.

If our Torah is to speak to our world, in a way that helps us understand our world and live a better life, we need to get to the bottom of this conundrum.

Our weekly Torah portion speaks to this dilemma with a simple question: Are we the same person on the inside as we project to the outside world?

What are some practical strategies for being the same person on the inside and out?

Shabbat Sermon: Strap on Your Skis with Rav Hazzan Aliza Berger Feb 14, 2026

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Even before she stepped into her ski boots to compete in Cortina, Lindsey Vonn’s story was profound. To be a top contender at the age of 41, after six years of retirement, after a partial knee replacement and countless serious injuries, is remarkable in and of itself. But Vonn wasn’t just competing 24 years after her first Olympic games, and she wasn’t just competing on a body which had recovered from countless serious injuries. Just days before the Olympics, Vonn ruptured her ACL racing in Switzerland. Where most athletes would have taken a year to recover, Vonn was planning to ski nearly 100 mph down a notoriously difficult cliff face in the hopes of winning another Olympic gold.

The New York Times story about her leading up to the race was titled, “Linsey Vonn is Skiing on One Good Knee, but It’s a Helluva Knee.” There was so much excitement for her race. As her teammate, Mikaeila Shiffrin put it, “her tenacity and grit, and what she’s showing up with this Olympics and staying true to her own values, that’s just straight up beautiful.”

When Lindsey crashed, all that positive energy shifted. There were nasty comments all over the internet and social media. People said she had no business skiing on a ruptured ACL. That of course she wiped out. How irresponsible. The blow back was so intense that her teammates and coach, even the president of the International Ski and Snowboard Federation, all began making public statements to defend her.

It was a fascinating turn-around. Before Vonn crashed into the gate, there was no critique of her choice, simply admiration. Everyone was talking about how amazing it would be if she could win. But when she caught the gate and crashed, suddenly there was so much blame, so much anger and resentment directed towards her. As if she were wrong to dream. As if the only thing that mattered was winning. As if losing with an injury was somehow embarrassing.

We have to talk about that turn-around, about that shift. Because that move, to applaud effort as long as it’s successful, to criticize risk-taking when it doesn’t turn out, that instinct is so tempting and so dangerous. How often do we hold back because we are too afraid of failing? How often do we foreclose the possibility of joy because we are too afraid to take a risk?

Talmud Class: 'Boring' is a Compliment Feb 14, 2026

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Transformation. We were one thing. Now we are different, and better. How does transformation happen?

Do our sources believe in the effectiveness of a transformational experience, that we are wowed and inspired and changed by some profound moment? Or are our sources skeptical that a single experience, however powerful, can sustain long-term personal growth?

The Book of Exodus has a definite point of view.

If ever there were a transformational moment, it would have been Sinai. God literally comes down to earth and gives the Jewish people God’s laws. The Torah spends a lot of ink on the pyrotechnics, the thunder, the lightning, the fire, the smoke. Sinai was the epitome of intensity. Our senses were never more alive. We could see thunder and hear lightning.

Sinai was intense, but was it effective? After Sinai, the Israelites build and worship the Golden Calf, violating the Commandments that they had just agreed to uphold. A lot of razzle dazzle, but it did not work, and it did not last.

What does work? The unsexy answer? Boring works.

The second half of the Book of Exodus, five portions that are a slow read, detail the building of the Mishkan, the wilderness Tabernacle. The opposite of exciting. But that’s the point. Redemption is found in granular small acts, that are repeated day after day. The sewers sew. The wood carvers carve wood. The jewelers fashion stones. The builders put it all together. Each person gives their gift. No razzle dazzle. No seeing thunder and hearing lightning. No senses on fire. Just doing ordinary deeds every day.

What are your daily rounds that heal and restore you?

daily exercise
daily prayer
regular therapy
regular AA meetings
regular visits with elderly parents
regular phone calls checking in with out-of-town loved ones so we stay connected despite the distance
making your bed, doing your dishes, taking out the garbage, doing your laundry,
maintaining your physical space.

One powerful experience rarely to never transforms, says the Book of Exodus, as its most electrifying gambit—Sinai—did not work. Transformation takes a lifetime of repetitive, granular, very local deeds. By doing these deeds every day, we become better. Boring is a compliment.

Shabbat Sermon: 30 Years to 'I am Jewish' with Guest Speaker Adrian Gonzalez Feb 07, 2026

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Over the last 30 years, Adrian Gonzalez met and married his beloved, Leslie, joined Temple Emanuel, raised four wonderful children, and celebrated their bnei mitzvah right here on the Rabbi Samuel Chiel bimah. For all of this time, Adrian has been on his own spiritual journey. This year, he made the decision to officially join the Jewish people. Adrian shares his journey and about the love that brought him into the covenant.

Adrian Gonzalez, the son of Cuban immigrants, was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. After earning a Materials Science Engineering degree from Cornell University, he began his career at Motorola in Tempe, Arizona, where he met his wife, Leslie. They later moved back East to be closer to family and settled in Newton, Massachusetts, where they have lived since 1996. Adrian and Leslie have four children and have been members of Temple Emanuel for nearly 25 years.

Today, Adrian is a trusted advisor and leading industry analyst with more than 26 years of supply chain research experience. He is president of Adelante SCM, which includes Talking Logistics (an online video talk show and blog) and Indago (a research community for supply chain and logistics executives). Adrian is also a LinkedIn Top Voice with nearly 250,000 followers.

Outside of work, Adrian is an avid cyclist, a fundraiser for Breakthrough T1D, and the author of a best-selling book yet to be written.

Talmud Class: Is Anything as Strong as Inertia? Feb 07, 2026

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Inertia is super strong. What, if anything, is stronger?

My late father-in-love used to say, “more than people know what they like, they like what they know.” People like what they know. They like certainty, clarity, predictability. They don’t like being rattled. They don’t like uncertainty. They don’t like unpredictability. They don’t like staring into a murky future.

The address in our sacred canon for the strength of inertia comes from last week’s reading. When the children of Israel left Egypt during the Exodus, the Torah says they left chamushim. Rashi offers two explanations for that word. One is that they left with arms, as they would need to fight wars on their way to the promised land. But the other explanation Rashi brings is that chamushim is related to the Hebrew word chamesh, five. Namely, only one in five Hebrew slaves chose to leave. Fully four out of five Hebrew slaves chose to remain slaves.

That Rashi is so evocative, so prescient, so rich. Fully 80 percent of Hebrew slaves chose the predictability of slavery over the insecurity of freedom. This despite their moaning and groaning under the burdens of slavery. This despite seeing God’s saving power with their own eyes—it’s dark for the Egyptians, not dark for us; the first-born of the Egyptians perish, our first-born are fine. Despite an interventionist God redeeming them from the misery of slavery, 80 percent of the Hebrew slaves opted for slavery. More than people know what they like, they like what they know. How often has this dynamic played out in Jewish history, with fatal consequences for those who opted to remain where they were.

Rashi goes on to add that the 80% died in Egypt. Throughout Jewish history, inertia has proven not only strong but deadly.

How does inertia show up in your life? How does inertia show up in our life? What, if anything, enables us to resist the incredible power of inertia? What can we learn from David Brooks’s final piece for the Times about how to resist inertia?

Would you have been the 20%? Or the 80%? Are you the 20% or the 80%?

Shabbat Shira Sermon with Cantor Elias Rosemberg Jan 31, 2026

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January 31, 2026

Talmud Class: Baltimore or Israel? A New Wife/Grandmother's Dilemma Jan 31, 2026

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Suzanne was happily married to her first husband, with whom she had two daughters, and four grandchildren. All lived happily in Baltimore. He died. At the age of 70, she was blessed to find love a second time with a man whom she married. Suzanne and her second husband went to Israel, and they loved it.

She writes to Abigail Shrier, an advice columnist for The Free Press. Now age 74, Suzanne shares her dilemma:

I feel I am in my last act….I will soon be enfeebled to some degree, and not myself. Right now I’m still energetic, connected, engaged. I searched for what to do next, for fulfillment, to find meaning, to leave a mark. When my husband and I were last in Israel, it hit me. Took my breath away. I want to live in Jerusalem…But my conundrum: I have two daughters, and four grandchildren…between 6 and 12. They love me; I adore them. My daughters need me, and I need them. We don’t live far from one another and are together often. But I am never as alive as I am when I am in Israel, or as close to the meaning of my life….Should my last effort be to embed a lasting bond with my grandchildren, or should it be to be in the place that allows my soul to sing?

Several questions to ponder: What does it mean to be a listening ear? If Suzanne had asked you, how would you understand your role?

What do you think on the merits? For Suzanne, for all of us, the clock is ticking. For Suzanne, for all of us, our time is limited. Alexander Hamilton wrote like he was running out of time. His sense of his own finitude inspired him to write 51 of the Federalist papers. How does the fact that we are all running out of time shape what we do with the time we have left?

Do you have your own version of Suzanne’s dilemma, loving two things, and not able to do both well at the same time? How do you resolve your dilemma?

What does Jewish wisdom teach us about how to think about this most human dilemma: since we are all running out of time, what do we do with the time we have left?

Abigail Shrier has a definite point of view! What do you think about what she says (the merits) and how she says it (her style)?