Uncategorized
In making a Christian case for Shabbat, Charlie Kirk stripped off its Judaism
Charlie Kirk isn’t wrong about Shabbat — he just has some funny ideas about what it should be.
In the conservative influencer’s new book, Stop, in the Name of God: Why Honoring the Sabbath Will Transform Your Life, released following his assassination in September 2025 and instantly sold out on Amazon, the outspokenly devout Christian describes the day of rest adoringly. It’s a “gift,” a taste of redemption, a break from the incessant noise of the newscycle and workday. It’s a time to connect with family and the single most important sign of God’s covenant with humanity.
These are all ideas straight out of Jewish thought. And, indeed, Kirk quotes from The Sabbath, by Jewish luminary Abraham Joshua Heschel, in nearly every chapter, often multiple times, while sprinkling in and other thinkers like Jonathan Sacks and Viktor Frankl.
But for many Christians — Kirk was a devout evangelical, and he was clearly writing for a similar audience — whether to observe a strict Sabbath is the subject of a lively debate. Foundational to Christianity is the idea that the coming of Jesus as messiah rendered God’s ceremonial laws — rules around food, behavior and temple sacrifice — obsolete and created a new order in which the Sabbath resides “in the heart,” rather than existing as a literal day of rest where you turn your phone off and cease work of any kind.
“Let no one act as your judge in regard to food or drink or in respect to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath day – things which are a mere shadow of what is to come; but the substance belongs to Christ,” said Paul in Colossians. This idea has been understood by most Christians to mean that Jesus erased the need for Shabbat; instead, every day should be like Shabbat. (“Christ has set us free for something better: namely, the pursuit of holiness and fellowship with the living God as a daily lifestyle,” writes Focus on the Family in an article on the topic.)
Kirk, however, disagreed; he began observing Shabbat four years before his death — specifically as a Saturday Shabbat, not the Sunday rest more common in Christianity. Stop in the Name of God is both an explanation of why he did so and an argument for why everyone else should do the same.
And yet the book is less a simple paean to a core Jewish ritual and more a tortured argument for how Christians can reconcile a deep suspicion of Judaism while reaping the benefits of marking Shabbat — mixed in alongside the political grievances that Kirk is best known for: opposition to the pandemic lockdown and vaccines, exhortations to traditional gender roles and, most importantly, advocacy for a Christian nationalist vision of the U.S.
Just how Jewish is Shabbat?
Kirk clearly did his research. As he makes his case for Shabbat, he leans heavily into commentaries from Heschel, Frankl and Sacks along with Christian theologians including Martin Luther and John Wesley.
While Kirk makes a case for taking a day off each week on its practical merits (better sleep, better focus, lower blood pressure), most of his argument is rooted in religion; in addition to commentaries from Jewish thinkers like Heschel, Frankl and Sacks he cites Christian theologians including Martin Luther and John Wesley, along with the Bible itself, to argue that a day of rest is a Christian requirement. He digs into the deeper theological implications of Shabbat framing it as a mirror of God’s own rest in Genesis. Noting that, biblically, Shabbat applies not only to the Israelites, but also to their animals and their workers — an element of Jewish law many readers are likely unaware of — he reads the day as a symbol of freedom. He even proposes that the fact that Shabbat applies equally to all makes it the foundation of all morality, a surprising point from someone who was outspoken about his negative views of a wide array of minority groups.
This vision of Shabbat is deeply Jewish, as are many of the interpretations Kirk borrows, and he clearly has an appreciation for the Jewish rituals. The Shabbat meal “is not dinner. It is liturgy,” he writes. “Eating becomes an act of worship.” Though he says he knows readers might view prohibitions against electricity or cooking on Shabbat as “burdens,” he argues instead that they are “scaffolding for sacred life” that “create space for joy to flourish undisturbed.”
Kirk comes across as almost envious of Orthodox Judaism.
But he can’t stay in this mode of admiration, because he isn’t speaking to Jews; his main audience is conservative Christians. And for them, Kirk has to address a specific controversy rife with antisemitic undertones: Christians believe that Jesus, as the messiah, fulfilled all of God’s ceremonial laws and rendered them irrelevant, forming a new covenant that requires only having faith in Jesus and living a broadly moral life. That means anyone — especially Jews — who still follows them is engaging in “legalism,” a term that carries a pejorative tone in Christianity.
“Observance of a weekly day of worship, whether it be Sunday, Saturday, or any other day, should never be allowed to become a matter of religious legalism,” is how Focus on the Family put it; the emphasis is theirs.
The gist of this argument is that anyone adhering to the biblical laws fulfilled by Jesus is following a false religion, nit-picking specifics instead of leaning into devotion. Kirk’s attempt to reconcile this contradiction — respecting Shabbat without falling into dreaded “legalism” — characterizes the book.
Kirk writes in his opening chapter that the Christian God is his “ultimate authority” but he recognizes “not everyone who reads this book shares this belief and I deeply respect that.” In the very next paragraph, however, he writes that “the Bible has built the West and it is the Bible that will ultimately guide and restore it.”
This tendency to proclaim respect only to immediately undermine himself is repeated throughout the book, particularly when he discusses Judaism. Despite his clear love of the Jewish Shabbat, he cannot help but reject it because it’s not Christian. And this is key to his argument: At its roots, Kirk’s praise of Shabbat is more concerned with convincing his readers to embrace Christianity than it is with learning from Judaism. It is only Christianity, he writes, “that can heal the divisions of our age and restore meaning to a world desperately in need of it.”
Kirk can only endorse Shabbat — for himself and for his audience — if he can prove it’s Christian, and he devotes two entire chapters to making this case, taking pains to prove that his understanding of Shabbat is free of the sin of “Judaizing.” Jesus, he writes, is “the Lord of the Sabbath” who “invites us not to legalism or laziness — but to life.” He promises that, though “the Pharisees had turned it into a crushing yoke,” Jesus’ Sabbath is not “legalism — it is liberation.”
In doing so, he reinforces the idea that Judaism is, in some way, evil, immoral and a false religion. For all his admiration toward Jewish practices, he agrees with his more skeptical co-religionists that Judaism must be exorcised from Shabbat if Christians are to observe the practice.
This discomfort with Judaism is perhaps best summarized in one, strange choice.
Though the book quotes generously from Heschel’s The Sabbath, Kirk’s prime example of the benefits of Shabbat observance comes not from Orthodox Jews, but from Seventh-Day Adventists — a small Christian movement that strictly abstain from work on the Saturday Sabbath. He waxes poetic about their “unique behavior patterns” that include “device-free” prayer and meals in the home. “Their weekly withdrawal from the world’s pace is not escapism — it is resistance,” he writes. “It is prophetic.”
Of course, they’re not the only group to do observe a Sabbath in this way — but Kirk seems more comfortable making his case for Shabbat’s benefits using a Christian group than he does praising Jews.
The point of a Christian Shabbat
It’s no great shock that Kirk spends much of the book arguing for the primacy of Christianity.
For all his proclamations that Shabbat is for everyone — and that his argument is neither religious nor political — Kirk was famous for participating in contentious debates on exactly those topics, and can’t help but turn to them even in a book about the day of rest. He spends time not just on Judaism, but on a multitude of what he considers to be liberal enemies of Christianity.
In the introduction, Kirk includes a rant about Joe Biden, a tirade against the pandemic lockdowns and a series of boastful descriptions of his own success. He notes that he is a busy man running three different companies with 300 people on payroll, emphasizes his essential ability to fundraise millions of dollars and touts his close relationship with President Trump. The chapters go on to offer a questionably scientific defense of creationism, a rant against materialism (and selfies), and several critiques of what Kirk believes are “false religions.” This last point, which crops up in multiple chapters, serves as an opportunity to bash Greta Thunberg, who Kirk accuses of leading an idolatrous cult of nature worship; Anthony Fauci, who is the figurehead of what Kirk calls “scientism”; and a meandering rant against Herbert Marcuse, one of the figures of the Frankfurt School, a fairly esoteric school of philosophy that Kirk blames for “woke” ideology.
None of these things have any obvious connection to Shabbat, and Kirk doesn’t attempt to make much of one. Still, their inclusion in a book ostensibly tied to a Jewish practice is revealing. An increasing number of Christians are adopting Jewish practices — not only Shabbat, but Passover Seders, wearing tallits and blowing shofars.
Yet however philosemitic these practices may appear, Stop in the Name of God demonstrates how comfortably they coexist with an antisemitic worldview that places Christianity above all else. Kirk’s argument for Shabbat is less about an appreciation for Jewish practice than a final entry in his life’s work advocating for a United States ruled by biblical values. The book is less about Shabbat than it is about Christianity. Ultimately, Kirk argues that all other religions are evil, morality cannot exist without God and that Western civilization will fall if it does not obey the Bible.
That’s not to say there isn’t real appreciation for Jewish practice woven into the book. But Kirk bends the meaning of Shabbat to his real mission: Christian nationalism.
The post In making a Christian case for Shabbat, Charlie Kirk stripped off its Judaism appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
At the Vatican with Chicago’s mayor, a rabbi gave Pope Leo a White Sox kippah
(JTA) — Lizzi Heydemann didn’t plan what she was going to say to Pope Leo XIV.
But when the Chicago rabbi found herself face-to-face with the new pontiff during a Vatican visit alongside a delegation of Chicago leaders, she thanked him for the way he has spoken about the war in Gaza.
“I said, you know, it’s been a hard time over these past two years to be a rabbi, but I want to thank you for, in the midst of conflict, holding the humanity of everyone involved in the conflict,” Heydemann recounted.
Leo, the first American pope and a native of Chicago’s South Side, repeatedly advocated after his election last year for the release of the Israeli hostages as well as a ceasefire in the war in Gaza, which he has referred to as “vengeance” and “barbarity.” The comments angered some Jewish leaders who have interpreted them as unfairly targeting Israel, but for others including Heydemann, they have offered a template for how to criticize the war.
“You may be anti-war, but I do not hear you denouncing or degrading people,” Heydemann said she told Leo. “Thank you for holding the humanity of Israelis and Palestinians in the same breath and the same thought. It’s not something that is modeled very often.”
She added, “He seemed grateful, and like he knew exactly what I was talking about.”
Heydemann, the founder and leader of Mishkan Chicago, an independent Jewish spiritual community, had been invited by Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson to join a delegation of civic, business and faith leaders traveling to Rome last week. (Johnson has been a vocal critic of Israel who has drawn criticism himself from some Jewish leaders in Chicago.) She said she was the only rabbi to take part in the trip.
As she waited for the pope to enter a room where the delegation was assembled on Thursday, Heydemann said she began weeping.
“What I reflected on is that he, maybe more than anyone in the world, is a religious leader with the world’s eyes on him,” Heydemann said. “He is beloved and critiqued constantly, and every rabbi in America has had a little taste over the last few years of that weight.”
While the interaction carried an unexpected emotional weight for Heydemann, it also came with a distinctive Jewish Chicago touch: a White Sox-themed kippah.
She said she included the kippah, which featured the Chicago White Sox logo on the exterior as well as a pomegranate on the inside, in a chest of Chicago-themed gifts presented to the pope on Thursday during the visit as a nod to his lifelong devotion to the baseball team.
“We thought that would be a sweet point connection between me and the pope,” Heydemann said, adding that the pontiff’s typical white zucchetto looks “awfully like a kippah.”
“It brings us all joy to imagine that after a long day at work wearing the cream-colored one that matches his robes, maybe at the end of the day he’ll switch it out for a jersey material, White Sox kippah, and thinks fondly of sweet home Chicago, and the Jewish spiritual community gave it to him,” Heydemann added.
A list of gifts that circulated in local media included another piece of Jewish paraphernalia: a tote bag with the words “Resisting tyrants since Pharaoh.” That’s a catchphrase from T’ruah, the rabbinic human rights group where Heydemann has been on the board. But the rabbi said the inclusion was an error: She was carrying the bag, not giving it to Leo.
Looking back on the meeting with the pope, Heydemann said her experience reflected a broader conviction about “building bridges, even in the presence of difference.”
“There’s too much at stake in our world for us to not be continuing to be in relationship with one another in the presence of differences,” Heydemann said.
The post At the Vatican with Chicago’s mayor, a rabbi gave Pope Leo a White Sox kippah appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Finalists announced for lucrative Jewish literary award
(JTA) — Amir Tibon’s memoir about his family’s ordeal during the Oct. 7 attacks on Israel and Laura Hobson Faure’s history of Jewish children who fled from Germany to France during World War II are among the finalists for the 2026 Sami Rohr Prize.
The annual award — which alternates each year between works of fiction and nonfiction and which honors emerging Jewish writers — is considered one of the most prominent awards in Jewish literature.
The winner of the award, which comes with a $100,000 prize, will be announced on June 16.
A panel of judges will decide among four nonfiction finalists for this year’s award. Since the prize was established in 2006 — the first award was presented in 2007 — Sami Rohr Prize panelists and advisors have included historian and diplomat Deborah Lipstadt, historian Jonathan Sarna and longtime Columbia University journalism professor Sam Freedman.
“What strikes me about this year’s finalists for the Sami Rohr Prize for Jewish Literature is the remarkable range of stories they tell and the depth of insight they bring to Jewish life and history,” Debra Goldberg, director of the Sami Rohr Prize, said in an email. “Each of the four books explores questions of memory, identity, displacement, resilience and responsibility through deeply personal narratives that feel both timely and enduring.”
The 2026 Sami Rohr Prize finalists are:
Laura Hobson Faure, “Who Will Rescue Us?: The Story of the Jewish Children who Fled to France and America During the Holocaust.” Faure is a professor of modern Jewish history at Université Paris 1-Panthéon-Sorbonne. Yale University Press, her publisher, describes “Who Will Rescue Us” as “the first comprehensive study of Jewish children’s flight from Nazi Germany to France — and their subsequent escape to America from the Vichy regime.” It is her second book.
Shaul Kelner, “A Cold War Exodus: How American Activists Mobilized to Free Soviet Jews.” A professor of Jewish studies and sociology at Vanderbilt University, Kelner’s second book details how American Jews transformed a largely overlooked human rights issue into a landmark 20th-century mass-mobilization effort.
Jordan Salama, “Stranger in the Desert: A Family Story.” Salama, an author and contributor to The New Yorker, National Geographic and other publications, traces his Jewish family’s history “from Moorish Spain and Ottoman Syria to Argentina and beyond.” A mix of travelogue, memoir, history and reportage, “Stranger in the Desert” is his second book.
Amir Tibon, “The Gates of Gaza: A Story of Betrayal, Survival, and Hope in Israel’s Borderlands.” The first book by the Israeli journalist is a first-person account of his family’s ordeal as residents of Kibbutz Nahal Oz, which was violently attacked by Hamas on Oct. 7, 2023. Alongside accounts of the day’s losses, Tibon also recounts the heroic efforts by his father, a retired major general, to race into the battle zone and rescue his son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters from Hamas gunmen.
“As the Prize approaches its 20th year, I hope it will continue to support writers whose work expands our understanding of the Jewish experience and sparks meaningful conversation for generations to come,” Goldberg said. “I am immensely grateful to share in the Prize’s mission to honor excellence, nurture talent and connect Jewish voices across the globe.”
The Sami Rohr Prize, named for the late American real estate developer and philanthropist who fled Nazi Germany as a boy, is administered in association with the National Library of Israel. 70 Faces Media, the parent company of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, is the prize’s media partner.
The post Finalists announced for lucrative Jewish literary award appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
A decaying historic farmhouse finds a savior in Chabad
A Dutch Colonial home, just one of a handful of pre-Revolutionary War houses left in New York City, has been vacant and decaying for years. The windows are boarded up, signs warning against trespassing cover the property, and chunks of the ceiling are missing inside.
This historic landmark has an unlikely savior: Chabad, the global Lubavitch movement, which is planting one of its thousands of outposts there.
“Dilapidated is an understatement,” Rabbi Zalman Liberow of Chabad of Flatbush said as he gave the Forward a tour.
Chabad of Flatbush, led by Liberow and his wife, Chana, bought the historic Brooklyn property in December 2024 and will soon begin renovations to make the place livable. In the meantime, the couple has already transformed the barnhouse next door into a sanctuary, where a photo of the Lubavitch rebbe hangs on the wall near a compartment once used to store hay.
As other Jewish organizations have shifted toward digital community, Chabad has continued investing heavily in brick-and-mortar real estate, ranging from modest suburban homes to multimillion-dollar towers and converted landmarks. It’s a strategy that anchors Chabad in the communities it serves, but can also be costly: For the most part, Chabad couples — each unit headed by a rabbi and rebbitzin — finance their own operations, raising their own money to buy homes and establish centers of Jewish life.
The Liberows said a generous donation of Bitcoin from a donor, Eliot Stavrach, ultimately allowed them to purchase the 22,000 square foot lot for roughly $3 million, along with securing a high-interest loan to pay the mortgage while the couple awaited the sale of their old headquarters down the street. Last week, that transaction went through and reaped nearly $1.1 million.
The seller had also cut the asking price by nearly half, offloading what had become a white elephant, Liberow said.
“For him, it was a pain. For us, it was good,” Liberow said. “And I thought, even better, this is such an important piece of United States history.”
The prior landlord had reportedly struggled to find a buyer for the landmarked home, which by law cannot be demolished, and any alterations to the facade must be pre-approved by the city Landmarks Preservation Commission. In buying the home, the Liberows are also preventing its further deterioration — to the relief of neighbors who said the abandoned site had become a hotspot for drug use and a symbol of neglect.
“I’m just happy that the house will not be torn down and will actually have a future — a good one, it seems,” said Lori Citron Knipel, a former leader in the Brooklyn Democratic Party who used to frequent the house. “So that absolutely warms my heart, because it’s been breaking every time I pass it.”
The house’s history
The Wyckoff-Bennett Homestead is likely among the ten oldest properties in Brooklyn and the 50 oldest houses in all of New York City, according to Simeon Bankoff, former executive director of the Historic Districts Council.
A 1968 report from the Landmarks Preservation Commission noted that “two hundred years of wear have done little to diminish the simple beauty of its clear-cut profile,” and described it as “the most beautiful example of Dutch Colonial architecture in Brooklyn.”
The house is also notable for its role in the Revolutionary War: During the conflict, it quartered German soldiers fighting for the British, known as Hessians. Two of the soldiers etched their names and units into a windowpane.
A historical marker at the house notes that those troops may have taken part in the Battle of Brooklyn, the first major battle after the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
According to Liberow, local legend holds that George Washington once stopped at the Wyckoff-Bennett house for tea — though, “we never did find the teacup,” he joked.
Bankoff attributed the properties’ staying power partly to the fact that prior to a venture called 22nd Street Investors LLC purchasing the lots in 2021, the property had only ever been owned by three families over more than 250 years.
Hendrick H. Wyckoff, son of a Dutch settler who emigrated to New Amsterdam in 1637, is believed to have built the house before 1766. In 1835, Cornelius W. Bennett purchased it, and it remained in the Bennett family for four generations before a Jewish couple, Annette and Stuart Mont, bought the property in 1983.
‘A piece of Brooklyn’s history’
The Monts had a deep appreciation for the home’s history, Citron Knipel said, and often opened it to the community. They hosted political fundraisers, birthday parties, and even a wedding at the house, she said, and they welcomed school groups into their home for local history field trips.
Only the facade of the house is landmarked, making its preservation legally required. But the Monts also preserved its interior details, including furniture from the Wyckoffs and Bennetts, an ornate fireplace framed by decorative tiles depicting biblical scenes, and an antique Richardson & Boynton Co. stove.
“There’s a sense of being part of and having a responsibility to the rest of the community to preserve it and move it forward,” Stu said in the 2013 documentary Living in a Landmark.
“And share it,” Annette added. “Because we have bought a piece of Brooklyn’s history.”
But an effort to secure the home’s legacy fell apart in 2010. The Monts had been in talks with the city to purchase the property, only to withdraw after the city reduced the sale price, deducting the rent the Monts theoretically would have paid to continue living there.
Annette died in 2013 at age 72, and Stuart died three years later at age 76. Their children, Ira and Randi Mont, sold the property to 22nd Street Investors LLC, registered to real estate investor Avraham Dishi, in 2021.
In an interview with the Forward, Ira Mont said he believed at the time of sale that 22nd Street Investors LLC would keep the house in good condition — and was disappointed that they ultimately did not.
Dishi drew two complaints for failing to maintain the Wyckoff Bennett house: one for the poor condition of the fence, still active, and another for the condition of the facade and roof, later withdrawn.
Officials at a Landmarks Preservation Commission hearing in March to discuss the Liberows’ minor proposed changes to the home noted there had been “all kinds of vandalism, fires, squatters, [and] drug users” there in recent years.
The Forward reached Dishi’s office by phone and left a message, but did not hear back.
Liberow said he has big plans for the house pending approval from the Landmarks Preservation Commission, including displaying a video in the front yard highlighting Jewish history in the United States. The Commission has already approved plans to install porch railings, a curb cut and a driveway at the site. And like the Motts, the couple plans to open the space up to the public. They’ve already begun hosting Hebrew school and holiday gatherings in the barnhouse next door, which they renovated for about $200,000 with rustic touches including wood paneling, barrels, lanterns and candle chandeliers.
For neighbors, the most meaningful change may simply be that the property is occupied at all.
“We got a very big welcome over here, because everyone’s so happy,” Liberow said. “Someone is going to save the property.”
The post A decaying historic farmhouse finds a savior in Chabad appeared first on The Forward.