615 N. Broad St. Philadelphia, PA 19123 | 215.627.6747
615 N. Broad St., Philadelphia, PA 19123 | 215.627.6747
A sage is a passenger on a horse and wagon. As they pass a farm, the driver sees some hay. He stops his horse, looks around carefully to make sure no one is watching, runs out, and grabs a bundle of hay.
Late one night, in the city of Chelm, known to be populated by fools, Shmuel happened upon his friend Avrum. Avrum was down on his hands and knees, underneath the street light, searching for something. Shmuel inquired as to what Avrum was doing. “I’ve lost my keys,” he replied. “Perhaps you’ll help me search.” Shmuel joined him. After half an hour, they had still had no success. “Avrum, where exactly did you lose the keys? Maybe we can concentrate our efforts.” Avrum replied, “I lost them in that alley over there.” Shmuel was dumbfounded, “So why are we looking here?” 
Please join us for Jewish Meditation before Shabbat services on Friday evenings, starting August 9, 5-5:30pm (you are welcome to arrive 4:45 to settle in; please be sure to arrive by 5:15 when the doors close for silence). In these coming weeks we will focus on brief teachings from This is Real and You Are Completely Unprepared: The Days of Awe as a Journey of Transformation, by Rabbi Alan Lew.
In an article this April, Rabbi Kuhn taught us: “A recent study found that Philadelphia has the highest rate of “deep poverty” – people with incomes below half the poverty line – of any of the nations 10 most populous cities.* The study found that Philadelphia’s “deep poverty” rate** is around 12.9%, or 200,000 people.”
Even as we look to the Prophets to inspire us that justice will someday flow like a river and righteousness like a mighty stream, while the homeless are in our midst, they have much to teach us.
By Rabbi Bill Kuhn, sermon delivered Kol Nidre evening 2011
A man was walking along, minding his own business, doing his job on a day just like any other ordinary day. When out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fire. He didn’t really think anything of it, as he sees little fires all the time in his line of work. But this fire was different, it would not go out. Eventually he turned and noticed this extraordinary fire, and his life was changed forever. For the longest time, Moses stared at the bush that was burning unconsumed in the desert. And when God saw that he had turned and noticed, God called out to him, “Moses, Moses.” And Moses answered, “Hineini,” “I am here.” [Ex. 3:1-4].
By Rabbi Bill Kuhn, sermon delivered Rosh Hashanah morning 2011
A couple of months ago, I met with a small group of some of the top Jewish leaders Philadelphia, and one of them said that he really wondered if the Jewish community in America would exist in another generation. I have thought a lot about that statement, and I must agree that there are threats to the very existence of our Jewish community, but actually, the threat to our existence comes from the fact that conditions have never been better for Jews in America. We are totally accepted into American society as never before.
By Rabbi Eli Freedman, sermon delivered Yom Kippur Morning 2011
I’m not Thomas Friedman. Yes, we have the same last name, although he spells it wrong, but that is the end of the similarities. Why do I say this? Because Pulitzer Prize winning, New York Times “Foreign Affairs” Correspondent Thomas Friedman can tell you about the political situation in Israel better than I ever could. So, what can I tell you about Israel that Thomas Friedman can’t?
By Rabbi Eli Freedman, sermon delivered erev Rosh Hashanah evening 2011
As many of you know, this summer I got married. Laurel and I decided to take a road-trip to and from our wedding in Texas. While leaving Asheville, NC and heading into the birthplace of Rabbi Bill Kuhn, I saw a large welcome sign. On that sign it read, “Tennessee: The Volunteer State.” I usually do not place much stock in state mottos. I come from the Bay State and now live in the Keystone state, neither of which names deeply resonates with me, however, for some reason I was struck by Tennessee: The Volunteer State. I assume it is because, as a synagogue community, we have been thinking a lot about what it means to be a part of congregation in recent months.
By Rabbi Jill Maderer, sermon delivered Yom Kippur Morning 2011
A boat filled with travelers sails in the ocean, when suddenly one passenger begins to drill a hole in the floor. His fellow passengers plead with him to stop, but the man says, “Mind your own business. This is my seat, and I can do whatever I want to the floor under it. Am I telling you what to do? No. So why don’t you leave me alone?”
