Josh Feigelson


It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

~ Mary Oliver


I think a lot of us have been praying this week. These past few weeks. This whole summer.

Or maybe now, in retrospect, we realize we were praying. Or we should have been.

What If We Renamed Identity Politics, ‘Humility Politics?’

During a recent encounter on social media, a friend of mine, who is a brilliant professor at a leading American law school, was trying to think about two legal stories in the news media: Donald Trump’s statement that the judge in a civil case against him should recuse himself because of his Mexican heritage; and calls for the removal of a judge who gave a short sentence to Brock Turner, a Stanford University student convicted of rape.

What’s Here, and What Isn’t? On Questions, Suspicion, and Faith

Years ago, just after I graduated rabbinic school, I remember being at a training retreat for Hillel student interns. These were students who had not previously been involved in Jewish life on campus, and who were recruited to be part of a cohort that would deepen their own connection with Jewish life while engaging their peers in Jewish experiences.

The Big Questions of Baseball

“[Baseball] breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall all alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.”