The Olympics may be a great microcosm of how the world works, but it might not present the best vision of what the global community aspires to.
(JTA) — Nice’s Jewish community decided to hold Shabbat activities as planned despite the slaying of dozens of people in the city in southern France, in what French President Francois Hollande said was a terrorist attack directed at revellers celebrating the country’s national day. The attack was carried out by a 30-year-old man who drove a rented…
Consider the key card: a piece of plastic no bigger than a business card, flimsy and seemingly innocent. And yet it’s also possibly the trigger to a cascade of changes that could transform the experience of the Sabbath by making a bevy of other devices, from iPads to stoves to cars, permissible on the traditionally low-tech day of rest.
First there was KosherLamp, the bedside light that could be turned on and off on the Sabbath.
Jewish voters in Nevada suffer the same affliction as anyone else ahead of caucuses in the presidential race: No one is quite sure how the damn system works.
It may be the most elevated Shabbat service in the country, and not just because of the spirited singing.
Sabbath-observing Jewish Democrats will be shut out of the party’s caucus in Nevada.
A piece of civil rights history with a poignant link to a New Jersey Jewish community is going on the auction block.
An “Accessibility Shabbat” will be held in communities across Israel — and it’s designed to highlight the need for greater respect for the handicapped and disabled within the religious community, and in Israeli society in general.
I’m a nice Jewish girl. I’ve lived in New York City, gone to synagogue, and attended modern Orthodox Jewish day schools my whole life. Which is why it struck many of my friends and fellow community members as absurd – hell, it strikes me as absurd – that instead of opting to spend the summer after my high school graduation as a babysitter or counselor at a Jewish camp, I decided to stuff a season’s worth of possessions into a 65-liter backpack and work fifty hours a week on a sustainable farm in Danby, Vermont, for a family I’d never met in my life.