Parashat Pinchas | Numbers 25:10–30:1
We have just entered the Three Weeks, the Jewish calendar’s annual period of mourning commemorating the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem, as well as other tragedies in Jewish history. The Three Weeks is a season of heartbreak that begins with the 17th of Tammuz and culminates with Tisha B’Av, the saddest day of the Jewish year.

There is so much we are witnessing — in the world, in our communities, and in our personal lives. The Three Weeks invite us to pause and witness; to open our hearts to pain and suffering and to allow room for grief and despair as we lament.
The Jewish path does not ask us to close our eyes to suffering. It asks us to bring our whole hearts to what is true for us in this moment, and then to keep choosing life, kindness, and sacred connection.
I am proud to be part of Bayit’s Liturgical Arts Working Group, and created this piece especially for our newest collaborative collection, Laments 5786.

“Breathe into this moment as we witness the horrors happening in the world.”
The prompts were: What are the laments of our hearts as we approach Tisha b’Av this year? What feels broken in us, in our communities, in our world? What are we holding, how do we hold it without breaking, and where do we go from here?
It is a powerful collection, and is available for personal reflection and communal use. I invite you to peruse it, and I hope it helps as you reflect.
The collection includes nine pieces of my work, and I want to share two ‘art only’ pieces:

Confusion, disbelief, and heartbreak– I know I am not the only person who feels these things right now.

Parashat Pinchas begins in turmoil, and yet from within that turbulence comes one of the most comforting phrases in Torah: “I hereby give My covenant of peace.”

A covenant of peace.
What does it mean to seek peace when the world feels anything but peaceful? What does it mean to walk a path toward wholeness when so much around us feels broken? What does it mean to breathe, to pray, to remain open-hearted, when the suffering of the world threatens to close us down?
These are not abstract questions for me this week.
In Pinchas, we see not only the aftermath of violence, but also the work of continuity and care. The portion moves forward into counting the community, honoring the claim of the daughters of Tzelofchad, and preparing Joshua to lead. Even in a season of rupture, Torah keeps turning us toward responsibility, memory, and the future. It reminds us that peace is not passivity. Wholeness is not denial. Covenant asks us to stay present, to remain connected, and to keep listening for the sacred even when life is difficult.
Perhaps peace begins there.
Not in pretending that everything is fine.
Not in looking away from what hurts.
But in pausing long enough to reconnect — with our own souls, with those we love, and with the Source of Love and Light.
Here’s my prayer for this week’s parasha:
The Path to Wholeness

The Path to Wholeness
In these tumultuous times,
when our troubled hearts
seek the comfort of believing
that everything will be all right,
we turn to You, Holy One,
Source of Love and Light.
Quiet the fears that threaten to deafen us;
grant us shleimut —
the inner peace we so desperately seek.
Encourage us
to p a u s e,
reflect, and reconnect
with ourselves and
with our loved ones.
Source of Goodness,
Shine Your healing light on us
and those we hold in our hearts.
Enable us to look for blessings
even in the most challenging
of circumstances.
Allow us to grow
closer to You
with every breath,
every heartbeat,
every prayer
and every tear.
Shelter us, shield us,
show us the path
to wholeness.
A Personal Update: Good News to Share!
On a personal note, I was blessed to spend some quality time with my amazing, courageous daughter this week. Sam was diagnosed with stage 4, triple-negative breast cancer in October, and is being treated at MD Anderson in Houston.

When Sam was at MD Anderson in March, scans showed that the tumors had grown by 30%, and that there were additional nodules in her lungs. This meant the chemo regimen she had been on was no longer working. Her oncologist switched her to Trodelvy, a drug that just received FDA approval last week, and Sam has now completed 8 rounds of Trodelvy.
I’m delighted to share that it’s working!
Her primary tumor is smaller, the secondary tumors and lymph nodes are smaller, and there appear to be no new lung nodules. Because her cancer is metastatic, Sam is being treated palliatively, not curatively, and will be on chemo for the rest of her life. Eventually, as was the case at the March visit, whatever “chemo cocktail” she is on will become ineffective, and it will be time to try another one.
Her primary tumor is smaller, the secondary tumors and lymph nodes are smaller, and there appear to be no new lung nodules. Because her cancer is metastatic, Sam is being treated palliatively, not curatively, and will be on chemo for the rest of her life. Eventually, as was the case at the March visit, whatever “chemo cocktail” she is on will become ineffective, and it will be time to try another one.
The current plan is for Sam to do another 8 rounds of Trodelvy and have her next scans at the end of September. We are praying that Trodelvy will continue working for a long time!
Thank you for all of your prayers, love, and support. It means the world to both of us.
Independence Day

Living near Philadelphia, I cannot ignore the resonance of this place and this milestone. Two hundred and fifty years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, I find myself holding both gratitude and grief. I am grateful for the ideals of dignity, liberty, and possibility. I am grieving the ways we fall short of those ideals, and the ways fear, hatred, and division continue to wound the collective soul of this country.
Perhaps that belongs in this week’s reflection, too.
Love is not always celebration. Sometimes love is honest lament. Sometimes love is the willingness to tell the truth about what is broken, while continuing to pray for healing, justice, and renewal.
Maybe that is one way to understand a covenant of peace.
Not as a finished state.
Not as a reward for getting everything right.
But as a sacred commitment to keep turning toward wholeness — in ourselves, in our relationships, in our communities, and in the wider world.

Guided Journaling Questions
- Where are you longing for peace in your life right now?
- What helps you pause and reconnect when the world feels overwhelming?
- What grief, heartbreak, or uncertainty have you been carrying quietly?
- Where are you being invited to choose wholeness instead of certainty?
- How do you hold gratitude without denying what is difficult?
- What would it look like for you to take one small step toward peace this week?

Closing Blessing
May we have the courage
to breathe into this moment
and believe that what we do matters.
May we have the wisdom and tools
to rebuild what is broken
and be present to what is true for us in this moment.
May we have the strength
to continue our journey
and may it lead us toward shleimut—
connection, compassion and community.
May God’s healing light shine upon us,
upon those we love,
upon those they love,
and upon all who are in need of comfort.
And may God shelter us, shield us,
and show us the path to peace.
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