Our foundational story as a people is that we were once enslaved in Egypt.  But we became a free people in a free land.  We learn from this (and the torah mentions dozens of times) that we cannot stand by when others are being oppressed.  Whether enslaved or just treated unethically, Jews have an obligation to stand for equality and justice.  And we constantly remind ourselves of our past when we recite mi hamoha or kiddush or any of the other blessings which recall our exodus story so that we never lose sight of that obligation.

In the Talmud, we are told to pay workers a fair wage and to treat all people with respect.  Baba Metzia instructs us that, “One who withholds an employee’s wages is as though he deprived him of his life.”  It equates the unethical treatment of workers to murder.  In reality, that is all too true as we see suicide rates rise in factories where people are treated horribly.  But perhaps the most effective and simple rule comes from Leviticus, which teaches us that, “You shall not rule over him [your worker] ruthlessly.” 

In the end, it is hard to determine what fair is.  With all the variables of the cost of living, quality of life and other issues at play, it is incredibly complicated, and I don’t inherently blame Apple or other companies for missing the mark.  Our tradition is about seeking perfection, not about attaining it. 

But we should also follow our obligation to struggle on the side of those who are oppressed.  Clearly there are ethical issues with Apple and how the company treats their employees – and we should speak up and rebuke the company to encourage better practices, so that they follow our tradition’s teaching of not ruling over employees ruthlessly.  Given the fact that Apple’s new CEO has made public statements of apology and is clearly trying to make changes, I think that letters, emails, and phone calls encouraging that practice and reminding the company of its obligation to the world community as a tech giant would be well in order.

If answers to these questions can be provided in a way that is protective and acceptable to all parties involved, I believe that surrogacy can be a good option for couples who would like to conceive but are unable.  Rabbi Elliot Dorff, one of the great ethicists of the contemporary Jewish community, notes that although early objections were raised within the Jewish community these questions have been resolved.  Women have not been degraded by surrogacy, but empowered.  Legal issues of uncertainty of the parents and protections for the surrogate’s privacy have also been addressed. 

The concern that remains is the status of the child.  Would a child be considered Jewish if s/he were carried by a non-Jewish woman?  Although it goes beyond the scope of your particular question, it remains an open question. 

I would argue that Judaism does allow for payment of a surrogate mother.  To restrict payment would be to unduly deny loving couples from the opportunity to raise a family.  The values of compassion and the mitzvah of raising a family, which are paramount in Jewish tradition, override any other concern I have.

Yes.

For me as a Reconstructionist Jew, the values that I focus on when thinking about how I dress are; comfort, respect (both for my body and for the community), and necessity.  Clothing ought to be comfortable when you wear it and should also show respect for the body and the customs of the community I am in.  Finally, clothing should also be practical.  As an active outdoors person I am struck by the number of people I come across who are dress inadequately to be outside.  It isn’t safe, and doesn’t represent the best values of our tradition.  The same is true in my work.  If clothing looks good, but doesn’t help me be a better rabbi then I probably don’t need to wear it.  Additionally, I personally find that wearing clothing with lots of labels takes away from the individual person and so I prefer clothes without identifying markers that are visibly printed.

Certainly there are other values at play for me; tradition and tzniyut.  Reconstructionists believe that the “past has a vote, but not a veto.”  That means the customs of our ancestors should always be considered and given weight within a conversation of values.  Although many liberal Jews wears clothing mixed with wool and linen, I personally don’t wear shatnez.  Although there is no particular reason, I understand that an ancient custom has importance and I appreciate being able to provide the link in that chain of transmission. 

Modesty is a more complex issue and I believe has personal tones to it that need to be carefully considered.  Clothing should show respect for the body and care of the soul.  But the kinds of clothes that meet those goals are different for different folks.  I get frustrated when people complain or judge other folks because they don’t approve of how they dress.  And this happens at the synagogue, particularly around young teens.  I remember once receiving a note from a board member of a synagogue I worked at complaining that I wore sandals on the bima.  And I recall thinking at that time, why was he looking at my feet during my devar torah!  He couldn’t imagine why I made that choice, and I couldn’t imagine why he was concerned about it.  I just think there are better ways to build community and show respect for our individual differences and preferences. 

Certainly a Reconstructionist understanding of tzniyut is different than some more traditional approaches.  In the end, however, I think the values that guide the conversation are the same.  The beauty of Judaism is that we can all travel the same journey, end up in different places, and continue the conversation moving forward. 

This is one of my favorite questions – thank you so much for asking it!

Talmud Gittin cites a beraita (a text from the time of the Mishnah that was not included in the document) which says that we bury Jews and non-Jews together for the interest in peace.  Rashi, in his commentary on that text, is quick to note that “we bury” does not mean we bury them together, but that we have an obligation to see to the burial of non-Jews just as we have an obligation to see to the burial of Jews within the community.  In the more contemporary world, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein wrote in a teshuvah that if a community wants to bury Jews and non-Jews together that they should also maintain a separate section for only Jews to be buried.

This seems to be the most common practice.  In every community I have served the custom has been to have two sections of a cemetery; one for families where an immediate relative is not Jewish and another section for families where everyone is Jewish.  There are smaller matters to consider such as whether to create a separation between the two sections or whether to purchase two separate plots.  From my own experience, I think that if a community is going to purchase and maintain a cemetery, it should be as open to the dead as the community is open to the living.  If we welcome interfaith couples and families in life, we should be willing to bury them together when that life has ended.

That does not mean that some restrictions should not apply.  Every cemetery I have overseen had strict rules about the burial of non-Jews.  Only non-religious burials were permitted (performed by the rabbi) and non religious symbolism was allowed on the monuments. 

In reality, most cemeteries have policies governing the burial of non-Jewish family members.  Those policies are surely as varied as the Jewish community.  I would encourage to you call the cemetery and ask them.  Almost half of all marriages in the Jewish community are interfaith – this is a question that cemeteries have thought about and will have an answer.  Once you have the information from the cemetery, then you can consider what path you will take.

Again, congratulations on your upcoming wedding.  I wish you nothing but mazal and simhah in your new life’s journey.

Jews do lots of different things surrounding burial, reflecting the variety of practice within the Jewish communities and differing opinions among denominations. The authors of the Bible note that Sarah and Abraham are buried above ground or in caves – not interned in the ground as is the common custom now. And even today many Jewish cemeteries provide mausoleums for burial as an option to families seeking an alternative to the traditional burial.

There are a variety of values in determining who can be a rabbi. Some seminaries ordain both men and woman, both straight and LGBTQ people, old and young and others do not. My response is not meant to place judgment on that decision making process. Although I strongly believe in equality as a core Jewish value, not everyone shares that concern. And clearly some Jews get to a place after thoughtful consideration where they do not allow women to be ordained and named as rabbi.

Thanks so much for your question. This is perhaps one of the most difficult issues facing the State of Israel and the Jewish community at large. Fortunately, the rabbis have discussed this issue at length and have provided us a good framework for this conversation.

This is a great question! Thank you so much for sharing it. I love this teaching of Hillel Hazaken. In fact, it is how I try to live my life. And I think that Hillel’s famous teaching is an important part of what it means to be a Jew.

 Eventually, I did find my way back to the synagogue.  And I recall clearly phoning my childhood rabbi to tell him that I was being ordained.  I thought the silence on the other end of the phone indicated a heart attack due to incredible surprise!

 I share this story to give you my own experience so you will understand where I am coming from.  In general, I don’t believe in pressuring partners or children about issues of faith.  For whatever reason, Jewish guilt rarely works in this arena and the bitterness of pressure often encourage people to stay away out of anger or frustration.  It is so hard when children are involved and I can’t begin to appreciate how difficult this situation is for you.  But I believe that if you force the issue you may win in the short term but do long-term damage to the Jewish identities of your partner and children.  Perhaps you are feeling an uphill battle because you are fighting on the wrong front.

 Pirke Avot tells us that we “must not separate ourselves from the community.”  But it never spells out what that means.  I know people who have incredibly deep relationships to the Jewish community through trips to Israel or through philanthropy, but who never step foot in to the synagogue down the street.  I know others who find community through the Jewish Community Center but not with the local rabbi.  Relationships and identity just isn’t that simple.

 I want to empower you to provide a rich and varied Jewish identity for your children and for yourself.  That is your right and obligation as a parent.  The Talmud teaches us that parents are obligated to teach our children about faithfulness and service (along with a profession and how to swim).  And I encourage you to continue to be open and honest with your partner about your concerns and to share with him your passion for giving your children a strong and meaningful Jewish identity.  You two will need to work together to find a variety of experiences in your community that may meet your needs and the needs of your children.  Speak with your local rabbi and connect with other Jewish families. 

 But remember that the most important teaching moments about Judaism and Jewish tradition don’t happen at the synagogue.  They happen at home around the seder table or while lighting candles for Shabbat.  They come at bedtime as we sing the Angel’s blessing and as we teach our children to sing the Shema.  And they occur when we least expect it but when they are most needed.  

This question challenges us on a variety of levels. First is whether this is an American civil problem or a Jewish legal concern or both. Secondly, if we choose to approach this as a halahic concern, how do we interpret texts that simply don’t have a grasp of the technology being used and the stresses and problems that arise from computer usage? Schools have a sacred obligation to protect students. That being said, I have serious concerns about a school installing software to remotely watch and block computer use, no matter whose computer it is.

It would be inappropriate for one Jew to ask another Jew to violate Shabbat for their benefit.  Regardless of outward appearance in observance it is not our place to make assumptions about how Jews behave on Shabbat.  Each Jew has a different way of connecting to our tradition and when we make assumptions about how someone observes Jewish tradition we are bound to make mistakes that can hurt feelings and tear relationships. 

However, it is always nice to help a neighbor who is in need.  This is particularly true if that kind of assistance can help someone enjoy the holiday more fully.  When we are able we should always extend a hand to help those around us.  It is a Jewish value to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.  What better way to exemplify that than by helping with some small things that so often go unnoticed, not just the large tasks that are easy to recognize.

Have you spoken with your neighbors about their request?  Have you told them that it bothers you?  My guess is that if you reach out to them to express your own discomfort with an open heart and open ears, you may hear more about what is going on for them; you may better understand where they are coming from and be better able to assist them.  You might also get your Shabbat back! 

Certainly a shabbes goy as a general principle is ethical.  But if a neighbor is imposing on you, your obligation should be to let them know so that you can work together to find a solution.

Although mental illness may have once been a dark secret within the Jewish community, I don’t agree that communities continue to hide it. Certainly Jews have a primary value of pikuah nefesh (preserving life) and if there is ever a belief that someone might harm themselves or others we have a moral (and at times legal) obligation to notify the proper authorities. We must recognize that we cannot solve all problems people face and that even our most experienced rabbinic leaders are not trained therapists or doctors.

 The Talmud’s teaching that we are all responsible for one another means that we are obligated to one another.  Whether we are at home or traveling, each of us has experienced feeling a sense of connection to someone we just met because they are Jewish.  We share a common history and a sacred purpose, regardless of affiliation, denomination or observance.  And it is why we often feel a communal sense of shame or fear when someone in the Jewish community behaves in a way that does not reflect the best of Jewish values or morals. 

 But to be sure, we are not responsible for another’s actions.  God gave to humans the ability to choose right from wrong and gave to the Jewish people a series of mitzvot to help guide us.  Whether another person chooses to follow or not follow those laws is not our responsibility as a whole.  Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Lazeh is instead about obligation to one another; it is an outward calling rather than an inward feeling.  When we feel called to join with the community in worship, when we help another member of our community because we feel obligated to care or when we share in a Passover seder, we are living in to this teaching. 

 Like so many things in Jewish tradition, just as in a forest it is easy to lose sight of the individual trees it is easy to lose sight of the individual in the midst of the whole.  Rather than focusing on the entirety of the Jewish people, I would encourage you to look first at the Jews you meet in person.  What is your level of obligation to them and how can you deepen your connection to them?  If we begin here, then the larger question of how we connect and live in to the obligation we have to Jews around the world will seem much more doable.    

 A Shabbat elevator is a difficult dilemma for the halahic community and not all parties agree on its use.  While the majority of observant Jews are comfortable using a shabbes elevator, Rabbi Elyashiv authored an opinion a few years ago outlawing their use.  His argument, as I recall, was that while descending a person’s weight influenced how much the brakes were engaged.  Others have argued that the weight of a person might also influence the motor and power needed for lift or that a person might inadvertently hit a button.  Although shabbes elevators and other kinds of Shabbat-compliant electronics (lights witch timers, alarm clocks and lamps just to name a few) have been in use for decades there has always been some measure of conflict around them.

 In my mind, a boat, trolley or automobile which was pre-programmed would hold any of the same problems as the elevators.  Perhaps even more concerning to the observant community would be the use of a fire to spark the engine or the transition from one reshut to another.  We might also have a concern about how folks would access these modes of transport (do you pay for the service, or pay someone to run them).

 All that included, the primary concern for me is one of enjoyment and connection to Shabbat.  Jews have always found a way to live in to the concept of oneg shabbat (enjoyment of Shabbat) and of truly resting.  For many Jews, particularly older Jews or families with young children, walking up multiple flights of stairs may be difficult or even impossible.  How could we ask them to be imprisoned in their homes when they should be celebrating with their community? 

 If Shabbat elevators, timers and lamps enable us to more fully celebrate Shabbat and can be developed within our framework of contemporary Jewish practice, then we should welcome them.  It is unlikely that modes of transportation fit in to that category. 

 I wish you many sweet shabbatot of enjoyment and debate!

It is best to begin by acknowledging something which is quite important to this conversation; the tremendous diversity within the Jewish community on Israel’s holding of territory taken during the 1967 war. Too often I hear from people who believe that American Jews should speak with only one voice on Israel. To me, this seems unrealistic and not authentic to our shared tradition of debate and sacred struggle. I am an ardent Zionist and a lover of Israel. I believe that Israel has a right to exist and has the right to defend herself against attack from the outside. But I also believe that with that right comes great responsibility.

In Jewish tradition, the preservation of life is of upmost importance.  The rabbis teach that piku’ah nefesh (the preservation of life) is one of our primary values.  The Babylonian Talmud in Tractate Yoma discusses the many circumstances where a person may even violate the laws of Shabbat in order to save a life.  Our tradition (Exodus 21:19) also mandates that medical treatment be given to someone who is in distress.  We owe it to ourselves and to others to provide care.  As a teacher of mine used to say, “God’s miracles don’t just happen on their own!”

The question before us also involves the quality of life – what kind of life is this woman living?  In rabbinic tradition, a person approaching death whose quality of life has evaporated is called a goseset.  One of the halahot related to a goseset notes that we may remove impediments to death.  An example given in Sefer Hasidim (a 13th century book of Jewish teachings) teaches that, “if a person is dying and someone near his house is chopping wood so that the soul cannot depart, one should remove the chopper from there.” 

I live in Oregon, where physician-assisted suicide is a legal practice.  And I have sat beside families as they said goodbyes and held one another and watched a loved one slip from this world in to the next.  It is a painful moment.  But I also see that there is compassion and comfort in the ending of constant pain.  I believe that no good can come from suffering without the hope of recovery to some meaningful life.  At some point, our medical technology improved to such an extent that we can keep the body functioning even after the soul is ready to depart.  Although Jewish tradition demands that we preserve life, it never envisioned a time when we could preserve life indefinitely without concern for the quality of that life.

Halahah in this case would allow for the removal of life support.  

I am a proudly identified American Jew.  I love living in the United States and although I have visited and spent long periods studying in Israel several times I don’t envision picking up and moving there.  While I think that each person experiences moments and celebrations in different ways, Yom Ha’atzma’ut has always been a moving holiday for me.  It represents something that is truly miraculous; a Jewish homeland in the place of our ancestors after thousands of years!  I recognize that Israel is not a perfect nation but I believe most Jews can agree that Israel is a force for good in the world.  Yom Ha’atzma’ut is a chance to celebrate that goodness with all people who are part of the Jewish civilization and to talk with members of our community about the Jewish values of tziyonut (peoplehood) and ahavat yisra’el (a love of Israel) – particularly young Jews who grew up in a time of Israel’s relative security.

In the end, I can’t tell you how you should celebrate or why you personally should feel moved to join in the festivities.  But I do encourage you to look for ways in which the holiday can be more than an Israeli holiday which we celebrate vicariously.  I believe we owe it to all the Jews who felt a calling to go home and build a new country to come together as a community and celebrate their achievements and honor their memories.