Rabbi Brian

Beloved, What I’m about to ask is a very big ask. You (probably) aren’t going to want to do it. But I’m still going to ask. Because it’s important. Very important. Stop hating.   ✧✧✧   “No one is born hating another person… People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, […]

In 1973, researchers John Darley and Daniel Batson at Princeton University conducted a study based on the biblical story of “The Good Samaritan.” ✧✧✧ A little background on the story: Samaritans, in the biblical world, were not considered “good.” The phrase “Good Samaritan” would have sounded like a political oxymoron—something like “compassionate MAGA” or “patriotic

Beloved, Let me tell you something I often say when counseling those mourning the loss of a loved one. “Unless you are a rabbi or minister, you shouldn’t be good at writing eulogies.” And then I add: “Let me give you a pro tip—think about writing a letter. Because you know how to write a

 Love. With Bread. ✧✧✧ I live in a very progressive city. But, not everyone is of one mind. In fact, three houses to the north live Merrilee and Sardar, who, prior to the 2020 election, posted a “Trump—MAGA 2020” sign in their yard. The day Biden was elected, I texted them that a number of

tasty, bite-sized, easily digestible bits of insight ✧✧✧1. Humility, Always.✧✧✧ We need to be humble when we are wrong.AndWe need to be humble when we are right. “When I am wrong, makeme willing to change.When I am right, makeme easy to live with.”—John C. Maxwell ✧✧✧2. LOFTY GOALS✧✧✧ A quote by my BFF Larry Keene:

Annoyance Bingo.Lose your patience. Win big. ✧✧✧ Game play begins Tuesday, April 21, 2026, at 12:00am PT — First Prize: $100 ✧✧✧ The Origin of Annoyance Bingo. For years, I’ve asked mourners at funerals to track the least compassionate things said in an attempt to comfort them — and send me the best (and worst)

  Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong would answer the question “how shall we express love?” with a single word: “Wastefully.”    ✧✧✧   We don’t express love wastefully. A story and then some thinking about why.   ✧✧✧   It’s 2006. I’m in NYC to—among other things—celebrate the fifth birthday of my first niece, Maya. 

For reasons a team of psychoanalysts might have been able to crack, my dad couldn’t get the three-word phrase “I love you” to come out of his mouth. I knew he loved us. It’s just he couldn’t say it. I rationalized that I didn’t need to hear those three words, but it hurt anyway. This

I am standing in Kenya, with my left foot in the Northern Hemisphere and my right foot in the Southern. A line on the ground indicates the equator. Young men—asking for nothing, but hoping for tips—entertain and educate tourists, like me, about the Coriolis effect. They pour water into bowls with small holes at the

✧✧✧ As I pack up to leave after my workout, someone asks me, “Hey, Rabbi, how are things going?” I’m not one for small talk. Especially after being called by my title. “Well,” I reply. “I’m sad.” “Why?” “I’m thinking about the girls who went to school in the morning in Minab, Iran—over a hundred