On Yom Kippur, Isaiah’s powerful prophetic metaphors call us to reflect upon the moral and spiritual shortcomings that stand in the way of the Jewish people’s progress.

My involvement with Judaism began in college, I engaged in Jewish culture in my kitchen and cooking became an accessible path into a world of Jewish tradition.

We want you to come to High Holiday services, but we want you to come back, too -- when it’s less crowded and when we can welcome you and show you what we’re all about.

I don’t want to raise my children in a home with yelling. And yet, when I slip in a way that’s human and understandable, I fail both myself and my children.

The real preparation for the upcoming Days of Awe is the work I need to put into myself. To be the best model for my congregants, I must practice what I preach.

As we turn to the start of a new Jewish year, perhaps we can be inspired by the all-too-familiar customer satisfaction survey to evaluate our spiritual lives.

In theory, no one wants to be that person who can’t let go, who refuses the request for forgiveness. But is it really possible, or even right, to forgive everything?

As the High Holidays approach, once again I am reading S.Y. Agnon’s Days of Awe. As much as the book means to me, though, the person who gave it to me means more.

Earlier this week, we marked the first day of the Hebrew month of Elul when it is customary to take stock of our actions and behaviors in an effort to do better in the year to come.