The problem with the “anti-racism” movement sweeping the country is not that it tries to combat a social plague. Rather, the problem is that it lumps complex human beings into two categories, and, in the process, erases an essential component of the human condition—our cherished identities.

For the Torah, a polemic against statues and graven images is in truth a discourse about perception. To see the world rightly is to see that it is a living being. At every corner, it defies understanding and categorization. It is, in the words of mystic philosopher Martin Buber, an infinitely deep “Thou,” rather than an “it.”

I love L.A. because seeing the good in anything that’s so inherently imperfect keeps me young. Rather than incessantly complaining about crime, homelessness, inept governance or the high cost of living, I smile, take a puff of my inhaler and metaphorically wrap the city in my arms, trying my best not to pepper spray the air.

arth without its moon is like macaroni without cheese, Bert without Ernie, Batman without Robin. The moon has been at the center of timekeeping for millennia—it’s at the origin of our months (formerly “moonths”), and some calendars are still lunar-based. Plus, the moon has a strong gravitational effect on Earth. The ocean’s tides are mostly due to the moon. And the tilt of our planet’s spin axis—which is responsible for the seasons—is stabilized by the moon. So it’s kind of a big deal: Without a moon as big as ours, it’s possible Earth wouldn’t have the sort of environment that’s ideal for life to develop and evolve.

The typical American worker focuses on a given task for just three minutes. Each day, we touch or check our phones more than 2,000 times, and spend more than three hours staring at them, on average. So says Johann Hari, an author who has previously written about depression and addiction, in his new book “Stolen Focus.”

Casual TikTok viewers might think of the app as just a feed of Gen Zers doing viral dances and lip-synch reenactments. But the social network has also provided a space for some unlikely influencers: hospice workers, morticians, and funeral directors.

Dr. Sheila Tuller Keiter: Several times throughout the exodus narrative, God invokes His promises to our forefathers to rescue their descendants from Egypt and bring them to the Promised Land. Now that Israel has sinned with the golden calf, and God has lost His patience with His people, Moshe throws those promises right back at God.

The Mishkan was much more than a symbolic structure. It was a place in the physical world for the presence of God. Therefore, the significance of the question of whether or not the Mishkan would be built was actually a question of whether God’s presence would be present in our world or would be more distant.

Moshe was desperate to get Hashem to forgive the Israelites. Sure, he was upset at them too; they had effectively tried to replace him with a statue and completely forgone G-d in the process. Even so, he did everything he could to convince Hashem to forgive them, even saying that if G-d wouldn’t forgive them, He should erase Moshe from the Torah completely.

How far should professional sports go in promoting social causes? Was the Super Bowl halftime show the best ever? Why do people still love LA? What is really going on behind the Russia–Ukraine–US crisis? And much more in this week’s episode of “Conversations with Shanni.”

Shmuel Rosner and Jonathan Feiner discuss his book: “Mindfulness: A Jewish Approach.”

Harry Freedman, author of Leonard Cohen: The Mystical Roots of Genius, The Murderous History of Bible Translations, and a variety of other books with equally-sensational titles, joins Dan Libenson and Lex Rofeberg for a conversation that explores Leonard Cohen’s contributions to Judaism — and potentially to Judaisms of the future. They also connect Cohen’s musical creations to other Jewish figures, including Louis Jacobs and Miriam Anzovin (if you’re thinking “is she the one from Tiktok?” — yes!).