What Gifts Did You Bring?

The most meaningful gifts we can offer others are rarely material – they are the gifts of our presence, the gifts of compassion, understanding, and kindness.

I grew up in New Jersey, far from both sets of grandparents who lived in New England. Back then, travel to visit was a journey and a real effort. We saw my grandparents only two or three times a year.

After my maternal grandfather died, my grandmother remarried a Holocaust survivor from Germany who worked for Hasbro Toys. When they would pull into our driveway after their long drive to visit us, my four brothers, sister, and I would race out to the car, bursting with excitement after so much time apart. We would exchange hugs and kisses, and often the first thing out of our mouths was, “What gifts did you bring us?”

What gifts did you bring us? My parents were appalled.

And yet, we adored my grandparents, not for their physical gifts, but for their boundless love and their unwavering acceptance. We were young children who had not yet matured enough to express gratitude for the truest gifts they gave us, the gift of themselves, their presence, and their open hearts. We never had the chance to fully express this to my grandmother. She died of metastatic breast cancer just before I turned sixteen.

In this week’s Torah portion, Terumah, from the Book of Exodus, God instructs Moses to tell the Israelites: ‘Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved’ (Exodus 25:2).” It should be noted that the name of the portion itself, Terumah, literally means “gifts.”

These gifts were for the building of the mishkan, the portable sanctuary. Their purpose was not simply to create a beautiful sacred space, but to allow each person to invest something of themselves in a shared holy project. In giving, the people expressed gratitude for their redemption from Egypt and for the covenant they were about to enter at Sinai. Through these voluntary offerings, they began to understand what it meant to become Am Yisrael, the People of Israel, a people bound to one another and to God.

Of course, God does not need gifts. God does not require gold, fabric, or precious stones, nor even a sanctuary, in order to dwell among us. The gifts were never for God. They were for the people themselves. In the act of giving, hearts were shaped, relationships were formed, and holiness took root.

One of the enduring teachings of Terumah is that the most meaningful gifts in our lives are rarely material. The deepest blessings come from the people who show up for us, who offer their time, their care, their compassion, and their presence. These are the gifts that sustain us as individuals and bind us together as a community.

Life is ephemeral. We do not always realize in the moment the magnitude of what we are being given. Parashat Terumah reminds us to notice, to receive with humility, and to respond with gratitude. To honor the gifts in our lives is itself a sacred act.

This teaching feels especially resonant this week, as our three monotheistic traditions enter sacred seasons that call us to give from the heart, each in our own language and ritual grammar. For our Muslim friends, Wednesday evening marked the beginning of Ramadan, the most holy month in Islam. This sacred time is devoted to spiritual reflection, self-discipline, prayer, and deepened responsibility to community. For our Christian neighbors, Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent, a forty-day journey of humility, repentance, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. And for our Jewish community, Wednesday ushered in the month of Adar, the month of Purim, when one of our central mitzvot is the giving of tzedakah and gifts to others.

Parashat Terumah teaches that holiness is not built through obligation alone, but through offerings that come from a willing heart. In different ways, these sacred seasons ask the same of us. They invite us to step beyond ourselves, to notice the needs of others, and to recognize that spiritual life is inseparable from how we care for one another.

It is no coincidence that in the week we read a Torah portion devoted to gifts freely given, our faith traditions are each emphasizing generosity, humility, and responsibility for the vulnerable. While our practices and beliefs are distinct, the moral vision beneath them is shared. Difference itself becomes a gift when it leads us toward deeper compassion, greater understanding, and a more just world.
​​​​​​​
May we learn to see the people in our lives, and the people beyond our own communities, as gifts. May the offerings we bring, of kindness, compassion, and presence, help build a world worthy of God’s abiding presence. “V’asu li mikdash, v’shachanti b’tocham – let them build Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8)

Shabbat Shalom!

LGBTQ+ Rights are Jewish Rights

Shortly after I arrived in Raleigh, I encountered an unexpected and deeply sobering phenomenon. On multiple occasions, different people reached out to schedule appointments with me to ask how to apply for asylum in Canada. They heard that I am a dual U.S. – Canadian citizen and wanted to explore whether that path might be available to them and their families.

Each of these individuals shared something significant in common. Every one of them identifies as a member of the LGBTQ+ community. Each expressed fear that their rights to healthcare, marriage equality, bodily autonomy, and legal protections will be rolled back or eliminated under the current US administration. Each worried that as more federal protections for LGBTQ+ people are weakened or returned to individual states, they could lose access to employment, face barriers to housing, be denied equal benefits, or be forced to choose between their livelihood and living openly as their full selves. Many spoke of a growing fear that discrimination, harassment, and even violence could once again become sanctioned by law or tolerated by society.

A great deal has changed in the past half century, and we should never minimize the progress that has been achieved. At the same time, we still have a long way to go before true equality, safety, and full inclusion are a lived reality for our LGBTQ+ community. As of today, the ACLU is tracking 384 anti LGBTQ+ bills across the United States. Here in North Carolina alone, there are currently seven anti LGBTQ+ bills on the state’s legislative docket. While not all of these bills will ultimately become law, the very fact that they appear on legislative agendas causes harm. It sends a message of fear and exclusion that impacts not only LGBTQ+ individuals and families, but all of us who believe in dignity, justice, and the sanctity of human life.

For decades, the Reform Movement has spoken truth to power, stood with the marginalized, and advocated boldly on behalf of LGBTQ+ rights. Even with so much progress, there is still much work to be done. The Reform Movement’s long history and clear commitments to LGBTQ+ inclusion and justice can be explored through its published positions and educational resources. In recent years, the Central Conference of American Rabbis published Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells, a sacred collection that celebrates and affirms the achievements of the LGBTQ+ community. Through liturgy, poetry, prayer, and reflection, the book frames LGBTQ+ dignity firmly within a Reform Jewish spiritual and ethical context.

Some may ask why the Jewish community, and particularly the Reform Movement, has been so deeply committed to advocating for LGBTQ+ rights. Others may question why we teach about these issues so openly in our synagogues and religious schools.

Our answer is found at the very heart of Torah. Judaism teaches us that we are commanded to speak up for those whose voices are too often silenced, to pursue justice relentlessly, to challenge systems that cause harm, even when doing so is uncomfortable, and to stand up for what is right and just. Sometimes this means questioning accepted norms, especially when those norms treat human beings as “other” or “less than.” There is a profound difference between diversity and inclusion, and liberation and justice. Diversity may invite us into the room. Justice insists that every person’s full humanity is honored once we are there.

The Torah articulates this most powerfully in the language of sacred worth. “God created humanity in the divine image, creating it in the image of God, creating them male and female.” (Genesis 1:27). This teaching, that every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God, demands more than tolerance. It demands affirmation, protection, and love – precisely because every single human being is imbued with the spark of the Divine.

This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Yitro from the Book of Exodus, brings us to Mount Sinai and the giving of the Ten Commandments. Revelation at Sinai is not selective. The entire Jewish people stand together, every soul present and every voice counted. The rabbis tell a midrash, a story, to emphasize that every single person was included in both the giving and the receiving of Torah. They teach that the Divine voice at Sinai did not speak in a single voice alone. Rather, God appeared in many voices, so that each person could hear Torah in the way they were able to personally perceive and receive it. Covenant belongs to all. No one is excluded from standing at the mountain. No one is erased from the moment of sacred encounter. That vision stands in direct opposition to any system that seeks to deny the dignity, safety, or humanity of LGBTQ+ individuals.

We live in a world that still does not fully embrace the fullness of the humanity of those in the LGBTQ+ community. Here in the United States, we are witnessing a growing movement to erode hard won protections, to threaten the sanctity of LGBTQ+ lives, to limit access to healthcare and family benefits, to undermine marriage equality, and to endanger the safety and well-being of transgender children and adults. These realities are not abstract. They affect people we love.

This weekend at Temple Beth Or, we continue a long-standing decades old tradition (begun by our beloved Rabbi Emerita Lucy Dinner) with our weekend-long Sex Education Retreat for our eighth and ninth grade students. As part of this meaningful and values driven weekend, we are honored to welcome David Weitzman from Keshet as our guest speaker for our community-wide Erev Shabbat service, for our Confirmation students, and as a featured educator throughout the retreat. Keshet is a national organization dedicated to LGBTQ+ equality in Jewish life. David’s presence allows us to engage in these conversations thoughtfully and faithfully across generations.

The conversations I have been having over the past year (since the beginning of the current U.S. administration) have been deeply painful. They carry fear, uncertainty, and the longing to be safe and seen. At the same time, they remind me why education, advocacy, and communal responsibility matter so deeply. The Sex Education Retreat weekend is not separate from these concerns. It is one of the ways we lovingly teach our youth, and ourselves, that Judaism insists on dignity, safety, and the sacred worth of every human being.

Last week, I wrote about the danger of being a bystander. When it comes to LGBTQ+ justice, we cannot stand on the sidelines. We are called, as a community, to stand up, to speak out, and to advocate with compassion and courage. Judaism does not ask us to be comfortable. It asks us to respond. We live our values when we show up for one another and insist, together, on the sacred worth of every human life.

I close with this prayer, which remind us why we gather and why this work matters:

“We come together this Shabbat, each bringing to this sanctuary a private world of hopes, of fears, of dreams. Some of us are burdened by anxieties and cares that all but crush our faith in the future. Others have hearts filled with happiness, grateful for the joys of the past week, yet aware that even the most fortunate are vulnerable before the mystery of tomorrow. Every life is a unique blending of joy and sorrow, of fulfillment and frustration.

Beneath our uniqueness we are all bound together by our common humanity. All of us most deeply yearn for the blessings of freedom and peace.”
(Kol HaNeshamah: Shabbat Vehagim).

Please join us this evening for our special Erev Shabbat Service this evening with guest speaker, David Weitzman from Keshet.

Shabbat Shalom!