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Jewish institutions awaken to climate crisis, with hundreds pledging action
(JTA) — For a decade starting in 2002, Jennifer Laszlo Mizrahi devoted herself to pro-Israel advocacy. After that, the Jewish philanthropist and activist from Annapolis, Maryland, went all in to fight for disability rights, working in the field for the next decade. Now, Mizrahi is focused on climate change.
“Let me put it this way: In 2021, we donated to one climate organization, and in 2022, we donated to 17 of them,” Mizrahi said, referring to the small charity fund she runs with her husband, tech entrepreneur Victor Mizrahi. This year, the couple made their largest climate-related donation yet, sending a group of nine climate reporters to Israel to meet tech startups working on ways to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Mizrahi and her husband have also begun commercially investing in such startups.
“I was hoping other people would solve it,” she said. “But the pace of the change is not nearly meeting the demand at the moment. I felt that even though I don’t know the subject, I’m just going to have to do it because I have kids and I don’t want this world to fall apart.”
Climate change has long ranked at or near the top of a list of issues concerning Jews in the United States, according to multiple surveys, and Jews have been heavily involved in the wider climate movement. But until recently, the issue had a marginal place on the agendas of Jewish communal organizations, which neglected climate even as the subject took on importance in the activism and policies of other religious communities and in the larger philanthropic world.
Mizrahi’s newfound emphasis on climate is an early example of a larger shift that is underway in Jewish philanthropy, a multibillion-dollar world made up of thousands of individual donors, charitable foundations and nonprofit organizations.
“It’s the beginning of what will become a more widespread focus among Jewish groups,” said Rabbi Jennie Rosenn, the founder and CEO of the Jewish climate group Dayenu. “We’re seeing an awakening to this as a profoundly Jewish issue, and awakening to the role that the Jewish community has to play in addressing the climate crisis.”
Scientists say that decisions regarding carbon emissions made in the next few years will affect life on Earth for thousands of years to come. The most recent warning came in March, when leading global experts with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change published a new report, stating that “there is a rapidly closing window of opportunity to secure a liveable and sustainable future for all.”
The large Jewish populations living in the coastal United States are vulnerable to extreme storms, sea-level rise, severe heat and other weather disruptions — a situation dramatized in the recent Apple television series “Extrapolations,” in which a rabbi contends with rising sea waters infiltrating his Florida synagogue. Meanwhile, Israel is experiencing a slew of impacts from drought and floods to security threats tied regional climate-related instability.
A flooded road after heavy rainfall in the central Israeli city of Lod, Jan. 16, 2022. (Yossi Aloni/Flash90)
Israeli officials visit the site where a road collapsed into a large sinkhole at Mineral Beach in the Dead Sea on December 7, 2017. Many facilities and beaches have been closed or shut down in recent years following the increase in sinkholes caused by ever-declining sea levels, as climate change strains the country’s water resources. (Mark Neyman/GPO)
The last few months have seen a flurry of new initiatives aimed at both greening Jewish institutions and directing collective action on climate.
In December, for example, Rosenn’s group published a report calculating that endowments of Jewish organizations, from family foundations to local federations, are invested in the fossil fuel industry to the tune of at least $3 billion. The report launched an ongoing campaign called All Our Might that urges Jewish leaders to withdraw these investments and put the money toward clean energy instead.
Meanwhile, many of the most prominent Jewish organizations in the country — representing local federations, Hillel chapters, summer camps, community centers, day schools and nearly every religious denomination — had already joined a new green coalition organized by another Jewish environmental group and were preparing to unveil pledges to do more in the fight against climate change.
The unveiling of the climate pledges happened in March, under the leadership of Adamah, a nonprofit created through the merger of two stalwarts of Jewish environmentalism, Hazon and the Pearlstone Center.
“Climate and sustainability have not been on the list of priorities for the vast majority of Jewish organizations; this coalition and these climate action plans reflect a deep paradigm shift and culture change moving forward,” Adamah CEO Jakir Mandela said at the time.
The commitments made by members of Adamah’s Jewish Climate Leadership Coalition include sending youth leaders to global climate summits, reducing emissions of buildings and vehicles and lobbying the federal government to pass climate policies.
More than 300 congregations and nonprofits have joined. For Earth Day, Adamah announced a million-dollar fund offering interest-free loans and matching grants to Jewish groups for projects to reduce their greenhouse gas emissions.
If any single event can be said to mark the debut of the climate issue as a top Jewish communal priority, it is probably the recent annual conference of the Jewish Funders Network, which took place in March in Phoenix, bringing together thousands of donors and charity executives.
For the gathering’s first event, before the formal opening of the conference, a group of participants went on a field trip to downtown Phoenix to learn about the local effects of the climate crisis. Far more people signed up than organizers anticipated, and with about 55 passengers, the tour bus chartered for the occasion reached capacity. Mizrahi, who was among the participants, said the trip was helpful as a networking opportunity for like-minded philanthropists.
“We wanted to expose them to how the existential threats posed by climate change are not long term, but are already here,” Yanklowitz said. “People down in the Zone are dying every summer from heat exhaustion and dehydration.”
Based on his debrief with the group afterward, Yanklowitz feels the trip left an impact on participants.
“I didn’t hear anyone say, ‘Oh, I’m changing my commitments.’ But I did get the sense that climate change was kind of abstract for many people, and that now it really hit home,” Yanklowitz said.
The rest of the conference featured multiple talks and gatherings dedicated to climate, including on the main stage, and an announcement that Birthright, which offers free trips to Israel for young Jews, was increasing its own climate activism with the help of a new donation.
In an interview, Ellen Bronfman Hauptman and Stephen Bronfman, children of Birthright founder Charles Bronfman, said their $9 million gift is meant to honor their father on the occasion of his 90th birthday, while also bringing Birthright more in line with the values of a new generation that is environmentally-minded.
Birthright organizers will use the funding to develop programming focused on climate that could, for example, expose participants to Israel’s clean tech scene. The money is also intended to help Birthright lower its own carbon footprint, potentially by switching to electric buses or adding more vegetarian meals.
The Bronfmans hope that Birthright’s significant purchasing power in Israeli tourism will nudge the industry toward more ecologically sustainable practices.
“To me, Birthright is like Walmart — everyone wants to do business with them,” Stephen Bronfman said. “They have the power to dictate terms to their service providers and affect the supply chain.”
The widespread interest in climate mobilization among Jewish groups comes after years in which the issue languished outside the mainstream. Rosenn, the head of Dayenu, who has attended about 15 conferences of the Jewish Funder Network, noticed a change this year.
“There used to be half a dozen people at a breakfast before the program talking about climate. And it wasn’t even climate, necessarily — it was the environment writ large,” she said.
The Jewish world is, in many ways, still lagging behind the larger climate movement. Divesting endowment funds from the fossil fuel industry, for example, is seen as a bold step among Jewish groups even though at least 1,590 institutions representing nearly $41 trillion in assets have already publicly committed to doing so, according to a website tracking such pledges. About a third of the groups on the list are defined as faith-based organizations, but only three are Jewish: Kolot Chayeinu, a congregation in Park Slope, Brooklyn; the Reform movement’s pension system; and the American Jewish World Service, a global justice group.
Rabbi Laura Bellows, now Dayenu’s director of spiritual activism and education, waves matzah as she encourages major financial organizations to divest from fossil fuels at a rally in Washington, D.C., April 20, 2022. (Bora Chung | Survival Media Agency / Courtesy of Dayenu)
Adamah’s own climate plan doesn’t include a pledge to divest but only a promise that it will investigate the option of doing so for its endowment and employee retirement funds. Instead, the plan touts the group’s education and advocacy efforts, and focuses on reducing emissions at its retreat centers.
Adamah’s chief climate officer, Risa Alyson Cooper, acknowledged that Jewish community institutions have been “largely absent” from the divestment movement and said her group regards divestment as one of several required tools for addressing the climate crisis.
She said the Jewish community hit a milestone when 12 of the 20 founding members of Adamah’s climate coalition said in their climate plans that they would consider amending their financial practices. That was significant, she said, in light of the organizations’ complex and deliberate governing structures, which can make executing such changes onerous.
“While the Jewish community may have lagged behind in years past, we are catching up quickly,” Cooper said.
Such a shift would mark not only a milestone for Jewish climate activism but also a departure from how the Jewish community has historically done philanthropy, said Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster, executive vice president of the Interfaith Center on Corporate Responsibility.
She said wielding financial holdings for social impact has been a hallmark of advocacy by Christian groups. Last year, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) opted to divest from fossil fuels in light of the climate crisis.
The Jewish community, meanwhile, has tended to act primarily through charitable donations. One of the reasons for the difference, she said, is that the Jewish community is much less centralized with communal assets spread across many endowments, making the actions of any single group relatively less impactful.
“Adamah had done some really important work to change individual behavior and grow people’s connections to the environment, but the bigger piece of bold collective action to fight the climate crisis was missing,” Kahn-Troster said. “The overall community is late to respond to the urgency of the problem. But I do think that the work of these organizations is very significant, so I’m excited to see it.”
Kahn-Troster’s historical view is informed by the legacy of her father, Rabbi Lawrence Troster, an environmental activist who had pushed for communal Jewish action on climate, and by the passion for climate justice displayed by her 15-year-old, Liora Pelavin, a member of the Jewish Youth Climate Movement, an arm of Adamah.
“Finding a meaningful Jewish space to do grassroots-level climate advocacy that many young people are demanding has been really important to Liora,” Kahn-Troster said.
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Shabbat Vayikra: Learning From the Traditions of the Past
The term for rabbinic ordination is Semicha. It means laying hands on someone, which implies confidence, identifying with the person, and expecting there to be a continuity in passing on the tradition. The word comes from the law mentioned in the context of sacrifices, where one was commanded to place one’s hands on the head of the sacrifice before it was offered.
“And if a person brings a sacrifice to the Tabernacle … he should place his hand on the head of the sacrifice, and it will be accepted as an atonement” (Vayikra1:4).
Placing one’s hands on the animal was meant to create a bond between the human and the animal, and to respect the sacrifice the animal was making. The animal represented one’s failure to rise above the norms expected of humans. Therefore, there was a need to atone. The sacrifice of the animal was giving the human a second chance, and for this, he had to be grateful to the animal and God. To put one’s hands on the animal’s head was a sign of empathy. Ironically, we are, in a way, blessing them.
When one blesses children, one also places one’s hands on their heads. This goes back to Yaakov’s blessing. When we bless our children, we are showing we care and praying they will be protected and succeed in life and carry on our traditions.
The same thing happens when a rabbi is appointed. Those who give Semicha hope the rabbi will continue their traditions and work to keep them and the community alive, and follow the spirit of the Torah as well as the law. This too can be a kind of sacrifice, of oneself for the greater good. Sadly, as with parents and rabbis, not everyone succeeds. Sacrifices had another important function: community and eating together.
Although the sacrificial system has fallen into disuse for the past 2,000 years, there are still lessons to be learned from the procedures and laws mentioned here in the Book of Vayikra, which merit analysis.
The issue of sacrifices is controversial. But the voice on this issue that resonates with me is that of the great Maimonides, who seems to have two different points of view. In his great work, the Mishneh Torah, he includes in great detail those areas that have fallen into disuse, such as sacrifices and many of the laws of purity. But on the other hand, in his philosophical work, The Guide to the Perplexed (Section 3.32) he says quite clearly that sacrifices were introduced because that’s what everybody did at that time, and it would have seemed abnormal to start a religion without including sacrifices. His implication is that they were a temporary feature that would be replaced. And, in fact, they were replaced by devotional prayer after the Second Temple was destroyed.
I would suggest that whereas nowadays nobody would think of starting a new religion without prayer, it’s possible that at some stage in the future, we may substitute prayer in the way we recite it today by Artificial Intelligence or some other system. Who knows? But in the meantime, as I said above, there are important lessons we can learn from the past from traditions that are applicable today.
The author is a writer and rabbi, based in New York.
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Extremist Yesterday, Authority Today: The Media Whitewashes Joe Kent
National Counterterrorism Center Director Joseph Kent attends a House Homeland Security hearing entitled “Worldwide Threats to the Homeland,” on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC, US, Dec. 11, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Elizabeth Frantz
Within hours of publishing his resignation letter on X, Joe Kent, the Director of the National Counterterrorism Center, had reached millions.
The media, predictably, was enthralled.
“‘Iran posed no imminent threat to our nation’: Trump-appointed intelligence official resigns over Iran war,” CNN blared.
Axios followed suit, presenting Kent’s claims with little skepticism: “‘No imminent threat’: U.S. Counterterrorism Center head resigns over Iran war.”
The Hill amplified another conspiratorial voice, headlining Tucker Carlson’s warning that “neocons” would now try to destroy Kent.
The New York Times published multiple pieces within hours, including one that packaged his resignation letter as a standalone piece.
Readers were invited to see Kent’s words as a serious, insider indictment of both the war against Iran and President Donald Trump’s administration itself.
Director Kent is entitled to resign on a matter of principle.
He is not entitled, however, to falsely smear Israel on his way out by abusing the tragic death of his wife.
Shannon Kent died not in a “war manufactured by Israel,” but at the hands of ISIS in Syria in 2019. The… https://t.co/mKKVm3epVH
— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) March 17, 2026
After all, this was a man personally appointed by the president, working under Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard.
The Daily Mail went further still, elevating Kent’s rhetoric about the “Israel lobby” in a headline that nodded to one of the oldest conspiratorial tropes in circulation.

The Associated Press soberly reported that Kent had resigned because “Iran posed no immediate threat.”
Across outlets, the framing was clear: Kent was to be taken seriously.
His claims — that the war was driven by Israel and its American “lobby,” that Trump had been “deceived,” and that Iran posed no imminent threat — were not meaningfully interrogated, but simply transmitted.
Even his more outlandish assertions were handled with care.
Kent claimed that his wife, Shannon, had died in a “war manufactured by Israel.”
In reality, Shannon Kent was killed in Syria in 2019 by an ISIS suicide bomber, a fact Kent himself stated plainly in a 2020 NBC op-ed. That article did not mention Israel once.
Odd how you didn’t mention Israel when you wrote this in 2020, isn’t it?
pic.twitter.com/leDBGWP1t7
— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) March 17, 2026
Apparently, it is only in retrospect that Kent has decided ISIS — an Islamist terrorist group that broadcast the executions of Western hostages from the Syrian desert — was somehow a product of Israel.
Yet even here, major outlets softened the reality.
NPR avoided stating how she was killed, noting only that she “died serving in Syria in 2019.”
The BBC similarly declined to mention ISIS, reporting merely that she “was killed in a bombing in Syria.”
This is how credibility is quietly manufactured: not through explicit endorsement, but through omission.
But there is a deeper problem:
The same media outlets now treating Kent as a credible whistleblower were, until recently, describing him very differently.
When Kent first entered national politics, his record was viewed — quite rightly — as something far more troubling.
Kent, 44, has twice run unsuccessfully for Congress in Washington state.
During his 2022 campaign, he gave an interview to a neo-Nazi YouTuber who had praised Adolf Hitler as a “complicated historical figure.” He also engaged with figures from white nationalist circles and reportedly complained that America was “anti-white.”
He sought support from Holocaust denier and white supremacist Nick Fuentes during a GOP primary. Though Kent later attempted to distance himself from Fuentes, the outreach itself was not in dispute.
His campaign drew endorsements from figures like Paul Gosar, who has long associated with white nationalists, and Marjorie Taylor Greene, who has a long and well-documented history of antisemitic rhetoric. Kent’s website also featured support from Arizona state senator Wendy Rogers (R), who was later censured after appearing at a white nationalist conference and invoking anti-Jewish tropes.
Kent even hired a member of the Proud Boys as a campaign consultant.
At the time, much of the media covered this record in detail.
CNN itself reported extensively on Kent’s “past association with extremists” and his interactions with Nazi sympathizers and Holocaust deniers.
Now, that same outlet reduces this history to a paragraph that references his “past associations with far-right figures became a key issue,” while dedicating far more space to his peddling of conspiracy theories about the murder of Charlie Kirk.
The Daily Mail omitted it entirely, opting instead to highlight his “decorated military career” and a spat with Laura Loomer.
Equally absent from much of the coverage was the extent to which Kent’s claims were rejected across the political spectrum. Rep. Josh Gottheimer (D-NJ) pushed back publicly, while White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt directly called his central claim — that Iran posed no imminent threat — “false,” stressing that President Trump had “strong and compelling evidence” of an impending attack.
Joe Kent resigning and immediately pivoting to blaming Israel for everything is as predictable as it is unserious.
Scapegoating Israel isn’t just a tired antisemitic trope – it’s anti-American.
This is a guy with ties to white supremacists and has “PANZER” tattooed on his arm,… https://t.co/qbZRqf0s0c
— Rep Josh Gottheimer (@RepJoshG) March 17, 2026
In other words, the man has not changed; he is still peddling the same absurd conspiracies as he always has.
What has changed is the media’s willingness to contextualize him.
When Kent was politically inconvenient, his extremism was central to his identity.
Now that his claims can be used to undermine a war involving Israel — and, by extension, the Trump administration — that same extremism is quietly set aside.
The result is that a figure once treated as beyond the pale is suddenly recast as a credible authority on matters of national security and foreign policy.
His claims are not strengthened by evidence, but by the selective amnesia of the outlets amplifying them.
And the public is left with a dangerously distorted picture: not just of Joe Kent, but of the issues he is now being used to comment on.
Because when the media decides who is credible based not on consistency, but on convenience, it does more than mislead.
It erodes the very standard by which credibility is judged in the first place.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.
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The Nazis didn’t care that Paul Klee wasn’t Jewish
Paul Klee is hard to describe. The German artist’s works, which he began creating in his childhood until 1940, when he died at age 60, vary widely; they often feature abstract forms, but just as often figures. They are known for strong colors, but some are monochrome. He taught at the Bauhaus school, is considered by some to be the father of abstract art, but he’s also foundational to surrealism and German expressionism. He uses cubism and pointillism.
What he is not particularly known for is his political statements. But a new exhibit, Paul Klee: Other Possible Worlds, opening this week at the Jewish Museum in New York, is looking to change that.
The exhibit, curated by Mason Klein in his final exhibit as senior curator at the museum, includes work from throughout Klee’s career, tracing a throughline of political commentary on fascism and authoritarianism that has gone little discussed. Its centerpiece is the first U.S. exhibit of a cycle of sketches the artist made in response to the Nazi assumption of power in 1933. It was an important year for Klee — it was the year he was removed from his teaching position at the Düsseldorf Academy of Art, in response to pressure from the new regime.

Klee was not Jewish. But Nazi press defamed him as Jewish anyway to justify his termination. “He tells everybody he has pure Arabian blood in his veins, but he is actually a typical Galician Jew,”read an article in Nazi outlet Die Rote Erde.
Klee was one of the first artists the Nazis declared “degenerate,” a descriptor applied to the abstract artists, often Jewish, who the regime sought to smear as sick, immoral and corrupting to the idea of German culture that Hitler promoted; 17 of his works were featured in the infamous Degenerate Art exhibition organized by Nazi leaders in 1937, which compared the artworks to the drawings of the insane. In another Nazi publication, Volksparole, he was accused of advancing “the Bolshevist ideals in art of communists and Jews.”
Klee, along with his wife Lily and son Felix, fled to Switzerland. But before he left, he drew hundreds of sketches satirizing Nazi ideology, full of chaotic lines, evoking the distress of the era. Klee’s concerns about the shifting culture are also seen in the pointed titles of each work, which he noted in a meticulous catalogue he maintained.

In “Stammtischler,” a clearly recognizable portrait of Adolf Hitler stares out from the page, with small, beady, scribbled eyes. In English, the title translates to “drinking companion,” a term with the positive-leaning connotation of an affable friend. But in German, writes curator and art-historian Pamela Kort, the term Klee uses suggests an oaf who voices loud, poorly-informed opinions. Given that U.S. pundits often discuss which candidate the voters can imagine drinking a beer with, “Stammtischler” feels like a warning.
The museum’s director, James S. Snyder, noted the exhibit’s resonance to our current era in his remarks at the exhibit’s press preview. And it is hard not to think of our current political milieu when perusing Klee’s sketches.
“This Game is Getting Out of Hand,” which shows a group of children with several balls in the air, depicts brawling as much as playing; Klee, the wall text elsewhere in the exhibit notes, was deeply concerned about the long-lasting effects of exposing children to Nazi ideology and violence. This evokes today’s extremist influencers — often young men who grew up immersed in the toxic soup of the internet — who use a trolling tone when espousing antisemitism or misogyny. It’s all a joke, supposedly, but the joke is getting less and less funny.

The political dimensions of Klee’s work are most obvious in the sketches. But they highlight the mockery of authoritarianism and fascism woven throughout his other work. “Your Ancestor,” a drawing of a monstrous, Gollum-like creature, pokes fun at the Nazi focus on eugenics. The wall text argues that his strangely colored paintings of fruit can be read as commentary on the pitfalls of selective breeding. “Athlete’s Head,” a portrait of a distorted face, is, according to the exhibit, “satirizing the Nazis’ superficial glorification of the heroic athlete” in light of a required five hours a day of athletics in schools.
Klee’s dismissal from his teaching position was not the first time Klee was slurred as a Jew. Over a decade earlier, when he was nominated as a professor at the Stuttgart Art Academy, critics who felt his art was too left-wing referred to him as “Paul Zion Klee.” (He did not get the position.)
This inspired Klee to paint “Harlequin on the Bridge,” which deals openly with antisemitism. In it, a harlequin figure represents Klee himself, a Star of David hanging over his head, against an ethereal, unsettling background. The work wrestles with the idea of the perpetual outsider, whether jester or Jew, as the bridge between worlds, their positionality enabling them to access new ideas, combine categories and reach other worlds.

Klee’s politics are not always obvious. At times, it can feel hard to imagine that these abstract, modernist works are truly making a winking political commentary on antisemitism or Nazism, especially given that Klee did not speak publicly about his political views — though he wrote about them in personal letters to his wife and friends. Other Possible Worlds compellingly highlights the political valences in his work, but they remain open to a wide range of interpretations.
It all raises the question of why, if so much of his work had a political subtext, Klee did not take a louder, more pointed stand against the Nazis. Even his sketches, which criticize the new political regime, do so via caricature and irony. The titles, which give a trenchant context to each work, are still indirect. The power of Klee’s work lies in its ambiguity and ability to contain worlds, but it makes for poor activism.
In his writing, Klee appears to have decided that the best response to the vilification was to refuse to dignify it with any acknowledgment, however much he addressed the criticism in his art.
“It seems unworthy of me to undertake anything against such crude attacks,” he wrote in a letter to his wife. “For even if it were true that I am a Jew and came from Galicia that would not affect my values as a person or my achievement by an iota.”
Paul Klee: Other Possible Worlds will be on display March 20 – July 26, 2026 at The Jewish Museum in Manhattan.
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