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Rabbi Stephen Lewis Fuchs


Last year, I was privileged to conduct the first Jewish service since 1938 in the northern German city of Friedrichsstadt. In the interim, to my joy, there have been several Jewish cultural and religious events in Friedrichsstadt, including the bat mitzvah of Laura Wendt, a young woman from Denmark, in a service led by my colleague, Rabiner Dr. Walter Rothschild.

Much credit for the “heavy lifting” necessary to replant Jewish life in this town belongs to Horst (Ephraim) and Rita (Devorah) Blunk, whom I first met in 2014 during adult education sessions and services that I conducted...

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As the summer passes its midway point, rabbis begin to think seriously about the coming Days of Awe. We know that Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur provide us the largest congregations we are likely to see during the year.

It is a humbling and daunting task to attempt to craft messages that will resonate with those who come to worship.

Our hopes are high. We spend hours preparing what we hope might be life-changing messages.

And yet, realistically, we know that the meaning the season of repentance will have for individual Jews depends more on what each of us is willing...

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Whether you prefer the 1843 book or any of the many movie versions made since, there is no question that Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is a classic.

Now, despite the season for which Dickens wrote it, A Christmas Carol is a Yom Kippur story if there ever was one.

As a small child, I lived to hear Ebenezer Scrooge say, “Bah! Humbug!”  Only when I was a bit older did I start to appreciate the drama that unfolds after the first commercial.

Scrooge spends a restless night marked by four fateful encounters. The first is with the ghost of his dead business partner...

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My consciousness of my special identity as a Jew as it relates to athletics began in the 1950s, when, on a Rosh HaShanah afternoon, I heard the mellifluous voice of the great Red Barber say, “The old familiar number 31 of Brooklyn first-base coach Jake Pitler will be missing today, as he is observing the Jewish new year and is not in the ball park.”

My consciousness of Jews in American sports developed further during many an oneg Shabbat at my congregation, Temple Sharey Tefilo-Israel in East Orange, N.J. While my parents socialized with friends, I drifted into the temple’s library...

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This year marked the first time in my life I did not attend a Passover seder. Instead, Erev Pesach found me in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.

At the time, my wife Vickie was in San Francisco tending to her ailing 94-year old mother. I planned to drive from Connecticut to New Jersey to join the family seder there, but it didn’t turn out that way.

That Friday morning, I woke up with a severe pain in my leg. I was not overly concerned when I called Vickie in California to tell her – but she was. She called our son and asked him to come right over. When he got to our...

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