Uncategorized
Judaism doesn’t want you to wander and live just anywhere — or does it?
(JTA) — I was a remote worker long before the pandemic made it a thing, but it was only last month that I really took advantage of it. Early on the morning of New Year’s Day, I boarded a plane from Connecticut bound for Mexico, where I spent a full month sleeping in thatch-roofed palapas, eating more tacos than was probably wise and bathing every day in the Pacific. I’ll spare you the glorious details, but suffice it to say, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a January.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, I found myself again and again coming into contact with expats who had traded in their urban lives in northern climes for a more laid-back life in the tropics. There was the recently divorced motorcycle enthusiast slowly wending his way southward by bike as he continued to work a design job for a major American bank. There was the yoga instructor born not far from where I live in Massachusetts who owned an open-air rooftop studio just steps from the waves. There were the countless couples who had chosen to spend their days running beachfront bars or small hotels on the sand. And then there were the seemingly endless number and variety of middle-aged northerners rebooting their lives in perpetual sunshine.
Such people have long mystified me. It’s not hard to understand the lure of beachside living, and part of me envies the freedom to design your own life from the ground up. But there’s also something scary about it. Arriving in middle age in a country where you know nobody, whose language is not your own, whose laws and cultural mores, seasons and flora, are all unfamiliar — it feels like the essence of shallow-rootedness, like a life devoid of all the things that give one (or at least me) a sense of comfort and security and place. The thought of exercising the right to live literally anywhere and any way I choose opens up a space so vast and limitless it provokes an almost vertiginous fear of disconnection and a life adrift.
Clearly, this feeling isn’t universally shared. And the fact that I have it probably owes a lot to my upbringing. I grew up in an Orthodox family, which by necessity meant life was lived in a fairly small bubble. Our house was within walking distance of our synagogue, as it had to be since walking was the only way to get there on Shabbat and holidays. I attended a small Jewish day school, where virtually all of my friends came from families with similar religious commitments. Keeping kosher and the other constraints of a religious life had a similarly narrowing effect on the horizons of my world and thus my sense of life’s possibilities. Or at least that’s how it often felt.
What must it be like — pardon the non-kosher expression — to feel as if the world is your oyster? That you could live anywhere, love anyone, eat anything and make your life whatever you want it to be? Thrilling, yes — but also frightening. The sense of boundless possibility I could feel emanating from those sun-baked Mexicans-by-choice was seductive, but tempered by aversion to a life so unmoored.
The tension between freedom and obligation is baked into Jewish life. The twin poles of our national narrative are the Exodus from Egypt and the revelation at Sinai, each commemorated by festivals separated by exactly seven weeks in the calendar, starting with Passover. The conventional understanding is that this juxtaposition isn’t accidental. God didn’t liberate the Israelites from slavery so they could live free of encumbrances on the Mayan Riviera. Freedom had a purpose, expressed in the giving of the Torah at Sinai, with all its attendant rules and restrictions and obligations. Freedom is a central value of Jewish life — Jews are commanded to remember the Exodus every day. But Jewish freedom doesn’t mean the right to live however you want.
Except it might mean the right to live any place you want. In the 25th chapter of Leviticus, God gives the Israelites the commandment of the Jubilee year, known as yovel in Hebrew. Observed every 50 years in biblical times, the Jubilee has many similarities to the shmita (sabbatical) year, but with some additional rituals. The text instructs: “And you shall hallow the 50th year. You shall proclaim liberty throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: each of you shall return to your holding and each of you shall return to your family.”
Among the requirements of the Jubilee was that ancestral lands be returned to their original owners. Yet the word for liberty is a curious one: “d’ror.” The Talmud explains its etymology this way: “It is like a man who dwells [medayer] in any dwelling and moves merchandise around the entire country” (Rosh Hashanah 9b).
The liberty of the Jubilee year could thus be said to have two contrary meanings — individuals had the right to return to their ancestral lands, but they were also free not to. They could live in any dwelling they chose. The sense of liberty connoted by the biblical text is a specifically residential one: the freedom to live where one chooses. Which pretty well describes the world we live in today. Jewish ancestral lands are freely available to any Jew who wants to live there. And roughly half the Jews of the world choose not to.
Clearly, I’m among them. And while I technically could live anywhere, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to. I like where I live — not because of any particular qualities of this place, though I do love its seasons and its smells and its proximity to the people I care about and the few weeks every fall when the trees become a riotous kaleidoscope. But mostly because it’s mine.
A version of this essay appeared in My Jewish Learning’s Recharge Shabbat newsletter. Subscribe here.
—
The post Judaism doesn’t want you to wander and live just anywhere — or does it? appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
The stories of Passover and Pittsburgh share a common humanity
At the heart of the Passover story is an act of courage that feels both ancient and urgent.
Before the plagues, before the parting of the Red Sea, a man named Moses made a brave choice. Saved and raised by the Pharaoh’s daughter, he could have looked away from the suffering of others. But instead, Moses recognized his connection to and the humanity of the Israelites, insisting that Pharaoh let his people go.
We often tell the Passover story as one of liberation, and it is. But it is also a story about the risk of crossing divides in society and the tension between extending an open hand or isolating yourself.
That tension is not confined to ancient Egypt: it persists within the Jewish community today. In the wake of the 2018 Pittsburgh synagogue shooting, much of the conversation understandably focused on security, accountability and the urgent need to confront antisemitism directly. The intensity and urgency of that conversation has only increased as Jewish Americans face more hate than ever in our post-Oct. 7 reality. Security and accountability are essential. But on its own, hardening our institutions is not enough. We must also engage in the hard work of educating and building connections across lines of difference.
Hate festers in the absence of relationships across those boundaries, and confronting it requires human connection. When we build compassionate, healthy communities, we begin to heal the persistent societal wounds, such as antisemitism and hatred, that divide us.
In the days and weeks following the attack in Pittsburgh, something remarkable happened: communities that could have remained distant instead drew closer. Muslim neighbors raised money to help cover the cost of funerals and Christian congregations opened their doors, providing the Tree of Life Congregation a safe place for worship services and to gather in community. In those dark days, Pittsburghers, and people from near and far, prayed, cried and raised their voices in song together. They modeled a response to hate rooted in shared humanity.
Passover asks something similar of us. Each year at the Seder table, we are instructed not simply to retell the story but to see ourselves within it, to remember what it felt like to be strangers in a strange land. The Passover Haggadah commands us to welcome the stranger as we were once strangers in the land of Egypt.
The story is a call to action, asking us to recognize the common roots that unite us all. If we are to truly embrace the stranger, then our work must extend beyond our own community and bring people of different backgrounds together to cultivate mutual understanding and learn more about our neighbors. That mandate guides our work at The Tree of Life. We are building a new institution rooted in Pittsburgh with national impact, dedicated to inspiring courageous action and creating compassionate communities. We are bringing people together to engage with one another and to stay connected even when it is hard.
Our programs focus on inquiry, connection, and community engagement, remembering our past and celebrating Jewish tradition and joy. For example, the Holocaust Center of Pittsburgh, one of our core programs, worked closely with Lily Sassani, a local Girl Scout, to develop a Holocaust Education patch, which is now available to all Girl Scouts. The LIGHT Education Initiative, our cornerstone education program, hosts the Eradicate Hate Student Summit, which in 2025 brought together 450 attendees and, with the support of the Grable Foundation and Benedum Foundation, offered $1,000 grants to 34 schools in southwestern Pennsylvania to design and deliver programming on their campuses.
We’re also sharing the story of what happened on Oct. 27, 2018, the history of antisemitism in America and our work to uproot hate in a traveling exhibition visiting communities across the country, beginning in Pittsburgh and next headed to Broward County, Florida, home to Parkland, another community sadly shaped by tragedy. The exhibition offers a peek into what we will be doing in Pittsburgh at the site of the deadliest antisemitic attack in United States history.
Empathy and understanding are powerful antidotes to hate. Developing both is slow, but important. Beloved Squirrel Hill resident Mr. Rogers knew this and exemplified it. He famously responded to racist ideas of his time, not through loud condemnation but by modeling a different way forward. Amid contentious debates over segregated pools, he invited a Black character, Officer Clemmons, to join him in cooling his feet in a small wading pool and sharing a towel. He didn’t argue; he demonstrated.
We are not naive, nor do we think there is a single answer to the challenges and divisions we all face. What we do know, however, is that at the same time that antisemitism has increased exponentially in recent years, divides are deepening and isolation is rising. Pew Research suggests that approximately eight in ten Americans say they cannot even trust people of different political opinions to agree on basic facts.
When antisemitism is rising and trust is waning, the instinct is often to pull back; to ignore the forces of good at work and hide behind walls. Imagine if Moses had remained in Midian, continuing his exile. Ours would be a very different story.
Instead, Moses stepped out in faith and sought community. For the truth is, liberation is not only about moving past a place of discomfort, grief and hardship. It is about what we choose to build afterward and who we bring along the way. Only by recognizing our common humanity and building bridges across lines of difference can we bring about the better future that the youngest people seated at our Seder tables deserve.
The post The stories of Passover and Pittsburgh share a common humanity appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Trump Says US May Exit Iran War Soon, Threatens to Quit NATO
Emergency personnel operate around a destroyed car following a targeted Israeli strike, amid escalating hostilities between Israel and Hezbollah, as the US-Israel conflict with Iran continues, in Beirut, Lebanon, March 31, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Stringer
The United States will end its war on Iran fairly soon and could return for “spot hits” if needed, President Donald Trump told Reuters on Wednesday, hours before he was scheduled to make a primetime address to the nation.
Trump also said he would state in the speech, which is due at 9 pm EDT (0100 GMT on Thursday), that he was considering withdrawing the US from the NATO alliance.
Asked when the United States would consider the Iran war over, Trump said: “I can’t tell you exactly … we’re going to be out pretty quickly.”
He was expected to reiterate a two-to-three-week timetable for ending the war in Iran during the address, a White House official later said.
US action had ensured Iran would not have nuclear arms, Trump said: “They won’t have a nuclear weapon because they are incapable of that now, and then I’ll leave, and I’ll take everybody with me, and if we have to, we’ll come back to do spot hits.”
An Iranian official, Mehdi Tabatabai, said in a post on X that an important letter to the American people from Iran‘s President Masoud Pezeshkian would be released “in a few hours.”
TRUMP CONSIDERS QUITTING NATO
Global oil supplies were expected to be hit twice as hard this month as in March, the International Energy Agency said on Wednesday, underlining the urgent need for an end to the conflict Trump began with Israel on Feb. 28.
Trump said separately on social media that Iran had asked for a ceasefire but that he would not consider it until Tehran ceased blocking the Strait of Hormuz, a major fuel shipment route. Iran denied making any such request.
Two security sources from Pakistan, which is mediating in the conflict, earlier told Reuters that Islamabad had proposed a temporary ceasefire to both sides but had not heard back from either.
US Vice President JD Vance communicated with intermediaries from Pakistan about the Iran conflict as recently as Tuesday, a source briefed on the matter told Reuters on Wednesday. At Trump‘s direction, Vance signaled privately that Trump was open to a ceasefire as long as certain US demands were met, including reopening the Strait of Hormuz, the source said.
Trump had signaled on Tuesday he could wind down the war in two to three weeks even without a deal, and scaled up threats to pull the US out of the NATO defense alliance if European states did not help stop Iran threatening the waterway.
In his remarks to Reuters on Wednesday, Trump said he would express his disgust with NATO for what he considers the alliance’s lack of support for US objectives in Iran.
European states took pains to appear unruffled, and France’s junior army minister Alice Rufo said operations by NATO in the Strait of Hormuz would be a breach of international law.
JET FUEL AND DIESEL SHORTAGE
The conflict has spread across the region and caused major energy disruption.
IEA head Fatih Birol said the main issue so far from Iran‘s effective closure of the Strait of Hormuz was the lack of jet fuel and diesel that was already a problem in Asia and would hit Europe in April or May.
The head of European budget airline Ryanair said jet fuel supply to Europe could be disrupted from June if the conflict did not end in the next month, potentially forcing the airline and rivals to consider cancelling summer season flights.
Businesses around the world are struggling, with cosmetics and tea among the latest sectors to report difficulties.
However, global stocks rallied and oil prices fell almost 3% as hopes of a de-escalation fueled the biggest rebound in regional equities in more than three years.
Higher fuel prices are already weighing on US household finances before the November midterm elections, with two-thirds of Americans believing the US should work to exit the Iran war quickly, a Reuters/Ipsos poll found.
TANKER HIT OFF QATAR
Drones hit fuel tanks at Kuwait’s international airport, causing a big blaze, and authorities in Bahrain reported a fire at an undisclosed company facility from an Iranian attack.
Qatar said an oil tanker leased to state-owned QatarEnergy was hit by an Iranian cruise missile in Qatari waters, but that there were no injuries or environmental damage.
An overnight strike hit Shahid Haghani Port, Iran‘s largest passenger terminal, deputy regional governor Ahmad Nafisi told state media, calling it a “criminal” attack on civilian infrastructure.
Iran has fired repeatedly on Gulf countries, some home to US bases, during the conflict, and is using the Strait of Hormuz, a conduit for a fifth of global oil and liquefied natural gas, as a bargaining chip.
Iran‘s Revolutionary Guards have threatened to hit US companies in the region including Microsoft, Google, Apple, Intel, IBM, Tesla, and Boeing, from 8 pm Tehran time (1630 GMT) on Wednesday. Trump has said he was not concerned.
LATEST STRIKES
In Tel Aviv on Wednesday, evening air raid sirens and air defense systems were repeatedly triggered as Iran fired a volley of missiles around an hour before the start of Passover, the Jewish festival of freedom.
Israel’s fire and rescue service said there had been multiple “impacts” in the greater Tel Aviv area. It was not immediately clear if the impacts were caused by missile strikes or debris from missile interceptions.
Shortly after the latest Iranian attack, the Israeli military said in a statement that the Air Force was carrying out strikes on dozens of targets across Tehran.
Uncategorized
UK Police Arrest 3 More Men Over Arson Attack on Jewish Community Ambulances
Charred remains of ambulances belonging to Hatzola, a Jewish community organization, which were set on fire in an incident that the police say is being treated as an antisemitic hate crime, in northwest London, Britain, March 23, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Hannah McKay
British police said on Wednesday they had arrested three more men in connection with an arson attack on Jewish community ambulances in north London last month.
The ambulances were set on fire on March 23 in what British Prime Minister Keir Starmer described as a “deeply shocking antisemitic arson attack.”
The SITE Intelligence website has said an Iran-aligned multinational militant collective called Islamic Movement of the People of the Right Hand had claimed responsibility for the incident near a synagogue in the Golders Green area of London.
Counter-terrorism officers are heading the investigation, but as yet the incident is not being treated as terrorism.
The Metropolitan Police said the three men, aged 20, 19, and 17, had been arrested at separate addresses in east London on suspicion of conspiracy to commit arson with intent to endanger life.
Two were British nationals, while the third was a dual British-Pakistani national. Last week, detectives detained two British nationals aged in their 40s and later released both on police bail.
“We know concern among the Jewish community remains high, but I hope these arrests show that we are doing everything we can to bring those responsible to justice,” said Commander Helen Flanagan, Head of Counter Terrorism Policing London.
