Ramaz

The Ramaz Rams were privileged to welcome and the Auburn Tigers' very own , longtime college basketball coach, and outspoken advocate for the Jewish people. His message to students was clear and powerful: wear your Judaism proudly, stand strong against antisemitism, and lead with your values.

Parshat Naso contains the longest chapter in the Torah, describing the offerings brought by the twelve tribal leaders at the dedication of the Mishkan.

Each leader brings the same gift. Yet the Torah repeats the identical description twelve times.

Why repeat it again and again?

Check out the answer plus Shabbat activities, questions for your dinner table, and more in Dr. Noam Wasserman's Word of the Week Shabbat Column: https://tinyurl.com/2s8fe3c7

In honor of Shavuot, Middle School students welcomed two inspiring guests who brought mitzvot to life in meaningful ways. Charlie Breda of Project Tzitzis encouraged the boys to embrace the daily mitzvah of wearing tzitzit as a source of pride and spiritual connection. Rebbetzin Peshi Neuberger reflected on the power of Shabbat throughout Jewish history and inspired the girls to elevate their Shabbat experiences at home.

In Parshat Bamidbar, the Torah describes how the tribes camped around the Mishkan. At first glance, the phrase מִנֶּגֶד סָבִיב seems contradictory. If the tribes surrounded the Mishkan (סָבִיב), why describe them as standing “opposite” (מִנֶּגֶד)? Are they around the Mishkan, or positioned in a way that shapes how they relate to it?

Check out the answer plus Shabbat activities, questions for your dinner table, and more in Dr. Noam Wasserman's Word of the Week Shabbat Column: https://tinyurl.com/4ymbtvan

Parshat Behar introduces the mitzvah of Shemitah: Every seventh year, the land must rest. No planting, no harvesting, no normal farming for an entire year.

And then the Torah asks a question: If we cannot produce food, what will we eat?

It is a striking question – not just about food, but about uncertainty itself.

The Torah could have left this question implicit. Why does the Torah write the question into the Torah itself?

And, to open Parshat Bechukotai, the Torah does not say: If you keep My laws. If you learn My Torah. If you believe in Me.

It says something much stranger: If you walk.

Why is walking the Torah’s metaphor for religious life?

Check out the answer plus Shabbat activities, questions for your dinner table, and more in Dr. Noam Wasserman's Word of the Week Shabbat Column: https://tinyurl.com/cfhext3p

In Parshat Emor, the Torah commands us to count the days from Pesach to Shavuot. But we already know the date of Shavuot. So what exactly are we counting – and why does it matter?

Check out the answer plus Shabbat activities, questions for your dinner table, and more in Dr. Noam Wasserman's Word of the Week Shabbat Column: https://tinyurl.com/2v93wrk9

As Parshat Acharei Mot introduces the most precise and demanding service of the year – the avodah of Yom Kippur – the Torah opens with a strikingly vague word: “בְּזֹאת” – “with this.”

Why begin the most structured avodah with the least specific word?

And, in Parshat Kedoshim, the Torah commands us to love. But love is a feeling, not an action – so how can it be commanded? And why is that command placed among laws about money, speech, and judgment?

Check out the answers plus Shabbat activities, questions for your dinner table, and more in Dr. Noam Wasserman's Word of the Week Shabbat Column: https://tinyurl.com/5esh668j

In Parshat Tazria, one of the most striking features of the laws of tzaraat (commonly translated as leprosy) is that the Torah repeatedly emphasizes one figure: הַכֹּהֵן – the kohen. Even if the signs are clear and everyone already knows someone’s contamination status, only the kohen can declare whether a person is tamei or tahor (impure or pure).

Why? If the facts are obvious, why can’t the person decide for himself?

And in Parshat Metzora, in the purification process for the metzora (one who has incurred leprosy), the Torah commands something unusual: Two birds are brought. One bird is slaughtered. The other bird is set free.

Chazal explain that tzaraat (leprosy) comes as a result of misuse of speech: lashon hara. Birds, which chirp constantly, symbolize speech.

If the goal is purification, we understand why one bird is brought as part of the ritual. But why is there a second bird, and why is the second bird specifically set free? If speech caused the problem, why didn’t the Torah silence both birds?

Check out the answers plus Shabbat activities, questions for your dinner table, and more in Dr. Noam Wasserman's Word of the Week Shabbat Column: https://tinyurl.com/4twmj6zb