Blog

7 Elul 5785 | August 31, 2025
Rabbi Stephen Wise

This summer at Camp George I ran a program with my fellow faculty members with 11 and 12-year-olds about productive arguments. We use as the basis for our program the arguments of Hillel and Shamai, the most well known commentators in the Talmud who constantly disagreed.  The lesson was that while they might have not been able to agree on Jewish law, the Talmud records both their answers because their arguments were both valid: “ Eilu v’eilu”- this and that are honorable.  The campers were then to try and look at examples at Camp and so they debated the merits of different snacks from the tuck shop, Skittles versus potato chips, pop versus Gatorade. Then we debated activities at camp, water skiing versus high ropes course, arts and crafts versus pottery. We set up debates and allowed them to make arguments and present their case including rebuttals. At the end of the day they realized that we didn’t need to settle on one winner or the other, but that all the arguments were valid. Overall, what we wanted to teach was that whether it’s a summer camp or life they’re always going to be people who disagree with you. The point is that we need to validate other people while still expressing our opinions and understand that sometimes there can be merit in both sides. And there’s value in hearing each other and that all of our honest and thoughtful reasoning is valid.

8 Elul 5785 | September 1, 2025
Rabbi Rony Keller

Makhloket l'shem Shamayim is a disagreement for the sake of Heaven. It reminds us that not all arguments are harmful. The classic debates between Rabbis Hillel and Shammai weren’t about ego or winning. They were about seeking truth with humility and respect. That kind of disagreement is sacred.
As we enter the Jewish month of Elul, a time of reflection, that lesson resonates differently. This past year has been heavy. The rise in antisemitism has shaken us. And Israel, so central to our hearts and our people’s story, has faced unimaginable pain, pressure, and loss. We’ve seen fractures both inside and outside our community, and it has been challenging for us all.
Elul invites us to take stock, not just of our actions, but of our conversations. Have our arguments come from a place of love? From a desire to protect and uplift? Or have we let fear and frustration drive us?
Makhloket l'shem Shamayim calls on us to disagree with care, to stay rooted in connection even when we don’t see eye to eye. That is what Elul is for: returning to who we are and what we stand for with compassion, courage, and clarity.

9 Elul 5785 | September 2, 2025
Rabbi Daniel Kirzane

Different voices in the Torah show different perspectives on truth. 
For instance, one description of Yom Kippur focuses on Aaron, portraying the high priest as the one who atones for the whole nation. “Thus he shall purge [וְכִפֶּר] the Shrine of the impurities and transgressions of the Children of Israel, for all their sins” (Lev. 16:15-16). The people are absent from this ritual performed on their behalf; Aaron is their representative before the Holy One.
Later in the same chapter, the text addresses us readers directly. “And this shall be to you a law for all time: In the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall practice self-denial; and you shall do no manner of work” (Lev. 16:29). Here, the people are involved in their atonement, committing their bodies and souls to the process of purification.
Can a priest or a rabbi, a parent or a teacher, a judge or a jury determine whether our repentance is complete? Can I speak for you and you for me, mutually implicated as partners in the project of redemption? Our texts offer us different views.
The ambiguity of a single verse delightfully summarizes the matter: “For on this day atonement shall be made for you [יְכַפֵּר עֲלֵיכֶם] to cleanse you of all your sins; you shall be pure before the Eternal” (Lev. 16:30). On our own, with one another—some years one way and some years another—may we each find our own right path to purity.

10 Elul 5785 | September 3, 2025
Rabbi Alan Cook

I enjoy word games.  My daily routine includes about a half-dozen different word and letter puzzles, and I seek out other opportunities to play with words.  I enjoy writing, and spend an inordinate amount of time dreaming up puns (often to the consternation of others).  I’ve even considered trying my hand at being a cruciverbalist (a fancy name for one who creates crossword puzzles).
As a longtime aficionado of the New York Times daily crossword, I’ve always been fascinated by the way the puzzle constructors wrangle words into the grid in clever ways.  But it is the clues that they devise to assist solvers that truly fascinate me.
For a cruciverbalist, clues are key:  they need to have a variety of ways to refer to common grid-filling words such as “NAVE” or “OREO” or “EWOK” in a creative fashion.  One of my favorite recent clues used “Has to hurt?” to elicit the answer “MUSTACHE.”
Perhaps in our interactions with one another, we could learn something from these crossword creators.  As Plant and Page teach us, “you know sometimes words have two meanings.”  When something is said that surprises or upsets us, perhaps we would do well to consider whether we heard them in the same way that the speaker intended.  Let us speak kindly, and may any words which spark disagreement be offered in the spirit of a machloket l’shem shamayim.

11 Elul 5785 | September 4, 2025
Cantor Joanna Alexander

When disagreeing over cultural parts of life, as one might do over sports, movies or comics, disagreeing for the sake of comradery, for the sake of learning from others’ opinions, or even for the sake of trying to convince them, may feel like fleeting fun. When disagreeing over life and death, morality, ethics and the future of the world, it is often difficult to overcome an “us versus them” mentality.
Machloket l'shem shamayim asks one to stand in another’s shoes and acknowledge their perspective, empathize with the narrative while still believing in the rightness of one’s own argument.
When we argue for the sake of heaven, we know we deal with urgent matters of justice on this earth, matters which defy simple answers. But matters on which life and death may reside. And yet, even with such dire consequences we must be open to disagreement, we must seek where those disagreements can broaden our arguments, where they can strengthen our arguments, where they can help us expand our sympathies.
Our tradition asks us to “argue for the sake of heaven” not because we will solve the argument, or find THE answer, but so we will see the divine in the face of our adversary. So, we will know that the surety of our cause can be as disastrous to our people as the unconfronted 
implementation of “their” cause. When we keep heaven at the center of the disagreement, we cannot forget there is divinity in their opinion as well.

12 Elul 5785 | September 5, 2025
Rabbi Eric Linder

It was a horse!
It was a mule!
Toward the beginning of Fiddler on the Roof, Tevye overhears this argument between two of his neighbors, and this scene is meant to introduce the Jewish way of conversation and argument.
And the truth is, I think that we treat most arguments like this, in the sense that I am right and you are wrong.
But most arguments are not so clear cut, and it would behoove us to realize that our debates and disagreements aren’t a sum-zero-game for one to win and another to lose. 
In our society today, we find it so hard to listen to others because they we think that they are “wrong” and that if they were “right,” it would make us “wrong.” 
I challenge all of us to instead look at our arguments and disagreements as a way to listen and learn, as opposed to a way to win or lose.

13 Elul 5785 | September 6, 2025
Rabbi Glenn Ettman

Our Arguments, Ourselves: The Holiness of Being Wrong
Sometimes the arguments, disagreements, and confusions are as important as the text itself because we are challenged to find a deeper connection to harder experiences. 
Cain killed Abel. Jacob wrestled the angel. Joseph was thrown into a pit. Abraham was forced to choose between faith and his son. Moses had to summon the courage to return to Egypt. The Torah reminds us: life is not about ease, but about how we overcome it. Our path forward is shaped not by what happens to us, but by how we respond.
Elul invites us into a different posture; one not of certainty, but of humility. This season is not just about reaffirming what we know, but daring to confront what we may have misunderstood. In a world that celebrates being right, Elul gently asks: what if we’ve been wrong?
This is the wisdom of machloket l'shem shamayim—disagreements for the sake of heaven. These are not arguments to win, but to discover. Not about ego, but about uncovering enduring truths through honest inquiry.
Perhaps this is what Jefferson meant by “we hold these truths to be self-evident.” It is not that truth is obvious, but that it reveals itself when we search with integrity. 
Elul calls us to enter the new year not with polished perfection, but with open hearts ready to ask, to wrestle, to listen, and to become. This season gives us permission, and compassion to find our self evident truth and even admit we were wrong once in a while.