Part of the Learning Series, Seasons of Responsibility: Interreligious Conversations on Environmental Justice and Repair

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There are ways to exist in harmony with all of creation that cultivate the soul and a relationship with the Divine. Hussein Rashid and Rabbi Gordon Tucker bring Muslim and Jewish texts into dialogue to explore how religious traditions resist transactional relationships with the earth and with one another. Drawing on the sabbatical vision from Leviticus and a Muslim sources on overtaxation, they reflect on restraint, renewal, and the dangers of extraction. Timed with converging sacred moments—the beginning of the Jewish calendar, Persian New Year, and the close of Ramadan—this session offers a shared language for ethical living in a fragile world.

About the Speakers

Hussein Rashid, PhD, is a free range academic, currently affiliated with Union Theological Seminary. He is a board member of the Interfaith Center of New York. He specializes in working on Muslims in US popular culture and Shi’i theologies of justice. He has served in various academic and culturally creative capacities, most recently as Project Director of The Arts of Devotion at the Smithsonian’s National Muslim of Asian Art. He has taught at Virginia Theological Seminary and Reconstructionist Rabbinical College. He is also a producer of the PBS Digital Series American Muslim Stories and of the award-winning New York Times op-doc The Secret of Muslims in the US.

As vice chancellor for Religious Life and Engagement, Rabbi Gordon Tucker focuses on enhancing Jewish life at 91�첥, enriching our study of Judaism with the joy and deep understanding that only lived experience can provide. A leading scholar and interpreter of Conservative Judaism, he also articulates the enduring power of 91�첥’s compelling approach to Jewish law and Jewish life, while strengthening 91�첥’s religious leadership through partnerships with organizations in the Conservative Movement and beyond.

About the Series

Across Jewish, Christian, Muslim, and Hindu traditions, spring is a season of reflection, renewal, and ethical commitment. Grounded in holidays from Tu Bishvat and Lent to Ramadan, Holi, and Passover, this interreligious series explores responsibility, repair, and leadership in the face of urgent ecological challenges. Together, participants consider how religious wisdom can inspire ethical action and collective hope. 

In Parshat Va’era, God reveals Himself to Moses and appoints Moses as His prophet. This exchange is a turning point in the story of the Exodus: God has heard the Israelites crying out from slavery and remembered the covenant He made with them. It is Moses who will be His messenger to Pharaoh, Moses who will demand that Pharaoh let God’s people go. Because Moses is nervous about his ability to be a convincing leader in the face of such odds, especially given his speech impediment, God instructs him to bring his brother Aaron. They will use magic to prove the pair’s connection to God: Aaron is to throw his staff down in front of Pharaoh, and his staff will become a serpent. Even though it works and the staff does in fact become a serpent, Pharaoh remains a non-believer. He summons his magicians, and they are able to perform the same feat. Aaron’s serpents—God’s serpents, really—prove to be stronger, and they devour those created by the Egyptians. Yet Pharaoh still refuses to recognize God’s power.

In the Quranic telling of this story, Pharaoh’s magicians are convinced by Aaron’s^[1] staff-serpent eating their own, understanding this means that God is on Moses and Aaron’s side (Surat Taha [20:70]). Pharaoh immediately threatens them with violent amputation and crucifixion if they follow the God of the Israelites. Pharaoh is alarmed; he assumes that Moses and Aaron have come to dispossess him of his kingdom and accuses Moses of having been the magicians’ leader all along. And he does so despite knowing his accusation could not possibly be true: he had made a deal with the magicians to grant them special status should they triumph over Moses and Aaron (Surat Ash-Shu’ara [26:4142]). But that’s the thing about false narratives—they don’t have to be true at all to be damaging.

Like Moses approaching Pharaoh, Jews and Muslims are constantly being asked to prove themselves in today’s world. Harmful stereotypes about the two groups abound: Jews are greedy, Muslims are terrorists; Jews control the media, Muslims oppress women. And neither group is free from the threat of violence. Visibly religious Muslims and Jews are attacked on the street, even in “tolerant” cities like New York; our houses of worship are targeted both by threats and by real physical violence; American politicians and others in power denigrate us to the media. Yet we continue to stand strong with dignity and constantly advocate for ourselves and our religious needs in the face of false accusations and assumptions about us.

As part of the Quranic version of the story, we are privy to God’s guidance to Moses and Aaron. He tells the pair: “Go forth . . . and never falter in remembering Me” (Surah Taha 20:42). Relinquishing our religion, beliefs, or convictions will not protect us. God tells Moses and Aaron to confront Pharaoh, but also to “speak to him mildly” when doing so (Surah Taha 20:43–44). God cautions Moses and Aaron not to panic, but to stand strong in their faith and be dignified. It is not fair or reasonable that Jews and Muslims have to continually prove their worth and importance and yet, it is our reality. And we must find ways to contend with that reality in order to keep ourselves and our communities safe.

One of the most meaningful and powerful ways that we have found to manage that painful reality is through interfaith connection and dialogue. At the Washington Theological Consortium’s Abrahamic Dialogue program, we were able to connect with each other and with other Jews, Muslims, and Christians. We had the privilege of attending each other’s houses of worship, spending Jummah together at a mosque and Shabbat morning at a shul. At the mosque, we visited with the imams and had the opportunity to learn about historical and contemporary challenges facing their communities. So too at the shul we connected with community leaders to discuss that week’s parashah, the Joseph story, and its role in both of our traditions. The two of us even received an aliyah together at the synagogue, an honor of a lifetime for both of us.

Our week of connection was not always easy. Any time different groups get together, there are sore points. As one of our professors put it, there is no such thing as interfaith dialogue conducted on an even playing field: there are always power imbalances, and we have to be aware of how they impact us. Furthermore, there are countless other challenges when it comes to interfaith dialogue: How do people conduct dialogue with those whom their religion preaches are damned? How do LGBTQ people interact with those who do not believe their marriages are legitimate? How do we put aside centuries, or in some cases millennia, of pain and intercommunal violence in order to build trust? The reality is that we must face these hard questions if we want to build any sort of meaningful connection.

Since October 7, 2023, fostering these connections has become increasingly difficult. The heightened political tensions between Jewish and Muslim communities around the world were evident within our group of twenty-odd participants.  Some had lost loved ones in Gaza, others had lost loved ones in Israel or knew individuals taken hostage. The challenge is not just political tension, but also real, deep emotion and heartbreak over our personal and communal losses. What we learned, though, throughout the week is that trying to avoid these conversations would do nothing but strain our communication. It was only by having the hard conversations, those that make all of us uncomfortable, that we could forge meaningful relationships. It was only when everyone could be fully authentic that we could support one another.

We must recognize that Jews and Muslims, though our beliefs, rituals, and some of our politics may differ, are faced with increasing bigotry in our society. Like Moses, we are constantly asked to prove ourselves to an unfriendly audience. And so we should take our lessons from Moses too. We should show up in the world as our authentic selves, remain dignified, and most importantly, rely on each other. In a time like this, when it is harder every day to be a Jew or a Muslim in America, we must rely on one another as siblings, just as Moses relies on Aaron, to get through. We must take our challenges, the things that could divide us and allow them to make our relationships stronger.

The publication and distribution of the 91�첥 Commentary are made possible by a generous grant from Rita Dee (z”l) and Harold Hassenfeld (z”l). 

^[1] In the Quranic version, it is Moses who asks God to send Aaron with him, because of his speech impediment.

When confronted with challenges I ask: When did this last happen? What did people do then, and what could we learn from it? We ask this in the Division of Religious Leadership and in the Hendel Center for Ethics and Justice. We stand on the shoulders of those who did our jobs before us. They spotted trends, observed demographic shifts, and responded to the times in light of the past. Were those times so different from ours? I suspect the details are different, but the underlying melody is often the same.

History frequently feels like it follows the swing of a pendulum. We go to an extreme, and just when we think we have witnessed or participated in enormous change, the pendulum starts swinging the other way.

There is nothing new under the sun. וְאֵ֥ין כׇּל־חָדָ֖שׁ תַּ֥חַת הַשָּֽׁמֶשׁ׃

This is true in rabbinical and cantorial education.

It is true in multifaith and justice work.

It is true in war and peace.

It is true about race relations in the US.

It is true about women’s rights in the US.

As our colleague Hazzan Natasha Hirschhorn says, these times are unprecedented, here we go again.

The Broadway musical Suffs, about the suffragists who worked for women in the US to have the right to vote, is an interesting juxtaposition to Kohelet. The main character, Alice Paul, sings about a march she is imagining into reality in Washington, DC, right before President Wilson’s inauguration. She sings, “How do we do what’s never been done, how will we find a way, find a way?”

On the one hand, marches were not a new invention. On the other, the right size, scale, and timing for the march was essential. It was titration. They needed the right formula.

In the show, women try different strategies to achieve the vote. Some suppressed their inner rage and made themselves palatable for the men in power. Others took to the streets, understanding that no amount of self-contortion would move the men to share power. They acted radically and did not conform. Some tried to minimize the size of the request and ask women of color to wait their turn. Others said we all get the vote, or nobody does.

Though they took different positions, the women could all feel they played a role in achieving the amendment granting women the right to vote. It was probably a combination of the harsh and the gentle tactics. Each person had to figure out which role they could best play, but they were all necessary.

In the seasons of our own lives, we feel pulled toward some types of work rather than others. During my career there were periods when I felt called to multifaith work. I worked at a Presbyterian seminary, Auburn Theological Seminary, during rabbinical school. I felt we could be better Jews if we were in close relationship with people who worshiped and believed differently from us. It helped give me perspective and appreciation for my own tradition. 

Then I had a period of justice work primarily in the Jewish community. Expanding our practice to include justice work as a religious expression on par with other halakhic obligations felt essential. I came to 91�첥 for that reason: to help shape us for this moment of justice work in the world, as observant Jews.

Suddenly, or not suddenly—a war in Israel and Gaza has interrupted everything else. 

Does the wisdom of Kohelet speak to us today? Kohelet teaches that there is a time for fighting and a time for peacemaking. Thematically, reading Kohelet on Sukkot, when things are fragile, can remind us that however we feel now will not be permanent. The time for whatever we are doing now will pass. We will have to “find a way, find a way,” in the words of Alice Paul.

לַכֹּ֖ל זְמָ֑ן וְעֵ֥ת לְכׇל־חֵ֖פֶץ תַּ֥חַת הַשָּׁמָֽיִם׃ {ס}        

עֵ֥ת לָלֶ֖דֶת        וְעֵ֣ת לָמ֑וּת        עֵ֣ת לָטַ֔עַת        וְעֵ֖ת לַעֲק֥וֹר נָטֽוּעַ׃        

עֵ֤ת לַהֲרוֹג֙        וְעֵ֣ת לִרְפּ֔וֹא        עֵ֥ת לִפְר֖וֹץ        וְעֵ֥ת לִבְנֽוֹת׃        

עֵ֤ת לִבְכּוֹת֙        וְעֵ֣ת לִשְׂח֔וֹק        עֵ֥ת סְפ֖וֹד        וְעֵ֥ת רְקֽוֹד׃        

עֵ֚ת לְהַשְׁלִ֣יךְ אֲבָנִ֔ים        וְעֵ֖ת כְּנ֣וֹס אֲבָנִ֑ים        עֵ֣ת לַחֲב֔וֹק        וְעֵ֖ת לִרְחֹ֥ק מֵחַבֵּֽק׃        

עֵ֤ת לְבַקֵּשׁ֙        וְעֵ֣ת לְאַבֵּ֔ד        עֵ֥ת לִשְׁמ֖וֹר        וְעֵ֥ת לְהַשְׁלִֽיךְ׃        

עֵ֤ת לִקְר֙וֹעַ֙        וְעֵ֣ת לִתְפּ֔וֹר        עֵ֥ת לַחֲשׁ֖וֹת        וְעֵ֥ת לְדַבֵּֽר׃        

עֵ֤ת לֶֽאֱהֹב֙        וְעֵ֣ת לִשְׂנֹ֔א        עֵ֥ת מִלְחָמָ֖ה        וְעֵ֥ת שָׁלֽוֹם׃ {ס}   

A season is set for everything, a time for every experience under heaven: A time for being born and a time for dying, A time for planting and a time for uprooting the planted; A time for slaying and a time for healing, A time for tearing down and a time for building up; A time for weeping and a time for laughing, A time for wailing and a time for dancing; A time for throwing stones and a time for gathering stones, A time for embracing and a time for shunning embraces; A time for seeking and a time for losing, A time for keeping and a time for discarding; A time for ripping and a time for sewing, A time for silence and a time for speaking; A time for loving and a time for hating; A time for war and a time for peace. (3:1-8)

To my surprise this has again seemed like a time for multifaith work. The Jewish people alone are small and insignificant in number compared to the number of people in the world. Perhaps this is the time to be catalyzers of coming together.

This moment is calling me to try to warm up relationships across faith lines. It is inspiring me to seek out colleagues in the seminaries and schools with which we share Morningside Heights. Covid and then the start of the war chilled old relationships. People changed jobs. Suddenly it felt like we didn’t have people to call on at the precise moment when we needed each other.

In Jewish tradition, reaching back to the Kabbalists in the 16th century we have had the custom to invite people into our sukkah as guests, ushpizin in Aramaic. This year, the ushpizin we are inviting to the 91�첥 sukkah are multifaith and civic leaders. We are reaching out and connecting. This past year (and its many curses) was filled with small and large acts of protest, fighting, and aggression. The war has not ended. Most people have changed some. For many of us, we have done it in isolation from our multifaith partners. All of us who are alive are wounded in some way. We are ready to reassess our tools and choose a different one than we have been using recently. But which one? The one I am grasping is reaching across the streets and welcoming people into our temporary dwelling. Looking for ways to mend or build relationships. We are not pretending this is a blank slate. We are saying that being together and creating new bonds is essential to building peace.

There is truly nothing new under the sun. Since Abraham, Jews have been welcoming strangers into their tents, practicing the mitzvah of hakhnasat orhim. Now is the time for each of us to take a step and reach out, particularly if we are nervous about doing so.

Having just marked the first anniversary of October 7 and now approaching Shemini Atzeret and Simhat Torah, there is much to despair. We never thought we would reach this terrible anniversary.

And so, like the characters in Suffs, we continue working on the same issues as our predecessors; we extend them grace for the paths they took, and we note that our children and grandchildren will scrutinize how we managed and judge us, and then pick up the mantle and lead.

This is a time to look deeply at our history and determine which of the tools our people have used throughout our history might suit today’s world.

Whichever tool you think it is now time to pick up, please do not tarry. As we learn from the writer Grace Paley, “The only recognizable feature of hope is action.”

The publication and distribution of the 91�첥 Commentary are made possible by a generous grant from Rita Dee (z”l) and Harold Hassenfeld (z”l). 

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Part of the series 91�첥 Alumni in the World: Scholarship and Impact 

�¾��ٳ���Rabbi Aaron Brusso(Kekst Graduate School ’01and Rabbinical School ’00), Rabbi of Bet Torah, Mt. Kisco, NY

In the 1970s and 80s there was a Jewish communal attempt to dissuade Jews from entering into relationships with a partner from a different background. These efforts played themselves out as policies, programs and messaging. Like many organizational structures and leadership approaches of the time, the program was hierarchical and authority based. Since then the landscape has shifted significantly as identity formation and rabbinic authority play out differently than they did 50 years ago. Together we will think about the the impact and limits of disapproval policies, the purpose and meaning of the Jewish wedding ceremony and how to shift the conversation to a pastoral and relational one with a couple. A conversation that transfers responsibility for these questions from the community back to the couple, empowering them to articulate their identities and authenticities and determine their relationship to the narratives, rituals, symbols and faith statements of Jewish tradition.

Aaron Brusso has been rabbi at Bet Torah in Mt Kisco, NY, for the past 15 years. He is treasurer of the Rabbinical Assembly and recently chaired a committee to evaluate the professional organization’s 50-year prohibition on officiation at interfaith weddings. He is a member of the 91�첥 Chancellor’s Rabbinic Cabinet and a 2020 recipient of T’ruah’s Human Rights Hero award for his work on immigration. He has written for JTA, The Forward, and Slate and been featured in the Washington Post. He is a 2000 graduate of the 91�첥 Rabbinical School and received a master’s degree in Jewish philosophy from the Kekst Graduate School. 

ABOUT THE SERIES

Join esteemed 91�첥 alumni to hear about the important contributions they are making through their work as scholars and thought leaders in their fields. Through their engagement with Jewish text, history, and thought, they are enhancing the spiritual and personal lives of individuals, building more inclusive communities, and preparing the leaders of tomorrow, ensuring a stronger Jewish future.

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with Dr. Benedicte Sere, Visiting Professor, 91�첥 and Associate Professor of Medieval History, University of Paris Nanterre, Member of the Institut Universitaire de France

This session was generously sponsored by Temple Israel of Albany.

In a world where religious differences have often been a source of division, the concept of friendship emerges as a powerful tool for forging connections, fostering receptiveness to others, and nurturing understanding. Beginning with a discussion of Aristotle’s friendship, followed by several case studies, we investigate how friendship has been actualized and experienced throughout history within the context of interfaith dialogue. We will also consider to what extent an ambivalence about friendship exists in Jewish-Christian relations from the Middle Ages up to the present day.

About the Series

“Two Are Better Than One:” Friendship in Jewish Text and Tradition  

Friendship is a critical component of our daily lives, our mental health, and our Jewish communal experiences. Ecclesiastes (4:9) posits, “Two are better than one,” underscoring the significance of companionship and partnership in Jewish tradition and the role they play in a life well-lived. Join 91�첥 faculty to explore the concept of friendship through Jewish texts, history, and thought. They will consider friendship in times of joy and times of crisis, both with those in our inner circles and with our neighbors and fellow citizens more broadly.  We also consider some important paradigms for friendship and discuss the values we can distill from these models of friendship

Miracles of Today (Chancellor Shuly Rubin Schwartz): Adapting Jewish traditions provided a way to bolster Jewish pride and identification

Joseph, Hanukkah, and the Dilemmas of Assimilation (Chancellor Emeritus Arnold Eisen): How much distinctiveness should Jews maintain in a society and culture like ours that offers unprecedented opportunity and freedom?

�Ѿ����ٳ�—H���Գܰ�첹��—T�󲹲԰�����������Բ� (Dr. Burton Visotzky): A celebration of the achievements of Jews in America

Holy Innovation and the Holiday of Hanukkah (Rabbi Danny Nevins): “Hanukkah always feels contemporary because most Jews continue to feel conflicted by its themes of integration and separation from surrounding cultures.”

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EXPLORE MORE HANUKKAH CONTENT

Throughout the centuries, in Christian writings and homilies, the Pharisees have been called legalistic, money-loving, self-righteous hypocrites. That definition has become a label applied to Jews in general as well as any persons or groups the speaker or writer despised. For Jews, however, the Pharisees are respected teachers of the past who are in some way the predecessors of all forms of modern Judaism.
Who were the Pharisees, really? And why does this question matter today?

Speakers

Professor , Hartford International University for Religion and Peace

Professor , Pontifical Biblical Institute

Professor , Harvard University

Professor , Boston College

This joint event of Fordham’s Institute on Religion, Law, and Lawyer’s Work and Jewish Theological Seminary was also supported by AJC – American Jewish Committee

Part of the series, Relating to God

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With Dr. David Kraemer, Joseph J. and Dora Abbell Librarian and Professor of Talmud and Rabbinics

One often hears it said that “Judaism cares what one does, not what one believes.” But this is a distortion, an oversimplification. When one looks at sources from the period of the birth of Rabbinic Judaism (including early “Christian” writings), one finds that there was an active debate about this matter. In this session, we will begin by considering the arguments of those ancient Jews—Paul and James—who raised the important question of faith vs. mitzvot. We will then examine echoes of the same debate in early rabbinic sources.

ABOUT THE SERIES

Join 91�첥 scholars to explore what Jewish texts and thought can teach us about how we might understand, experience, and be in relationship with the divine.  View All Sessions in the Series

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At 91�첥, we are committed to providing the Jewish community with outstanding classes in Judaic studies. We hope you will partner with us so that we can continue to do so. Did you know that you can sponsor a learning session to honor a loved one, celebrate an occasion, or commemorate a yahrzeit? To learn more visit the  or email learninglives@jtsa.edu.