Anniversary Essay | Time Traveling with Moment

We Jews are time travelers. We spend our lives remembering the past, wringing wisdom from it, then trying to hold onto it. When we’re not ruminating about the past, we’re anxiously scanning the present for danger (especially the past two years!) and worrying about the future. It doesn’t matter that our messianic tradition promises peace and redemption, or geulah in Hebrew, a word referring to deliverance from a difficult spiritual or physical situation. Even in our fourth millennium as a people, we continue to quarrel among ourselves as to whether we will get to the world to come mitzvah by mitzvah, by aggressively bending the arc or by keeping our heads down and staying out of trouble.

Fifty years is a mere drop in the bucket in Jewish time. But it’s the drop in question, since that’s how long Moment has been chronicling Jewish life. Many of the events during this span, including, of course, the 20-plus years I’ve been at the helm of the magazine, are imprinted on my memory. This is true even though in 1975 I was a rebellious teenager, steadfast in my devotion to escaping Jewish life.

Fifty years ago, Leonard “Leibel” Fein and Elie Wiesel, both great men of their time and both now gone, started a magazine called Moment.

The name had many meanings—including recalling Warsaw’s famous Yiddish daily Der Moment—but for me it evokes most vividly their ambition to catch drops of Jewish time on paper. Each man brought with him a deep well of wisdom and a vast web of friends and connections, including many of the luminaries of their era. They had different strengths and styles and interests, but they shared a concern and love for the Jewish people. Elie, a survivor of Auschwitz and Buchenwald, drew on the Holocaust for moral clarity. In “Remembering,” his column in Moment’s first issue, he summons the specters of the six million Jews murdered in the ghettos, death camps and forests of Europe. “All were condemned by the executioner not for what they had done but because they were Jews,” he reminded readers, who were not as accustomed as we are today to hearing about the Holocaust. In his column, “Beginnings,” Leibel wonders if the original editors of Der Moment, published from 1910-1939, could have ever imagined the genocide that would target European Jewry. Yet Leibel strikes an optimistic note: He refuses to give up on the potential of the Jewish people.

“We believe that honesty and excellence can, yet, become the way of our community, and Moment is a product of that belief,” he writes. “Moment is, above all else, an invitation to take Jewish possibilities seriously (but not somberly); an invitation to inquiry, to learning, to literature. To Jewish life richly conceived. For that reason, no aspect of Jewish life is alien to us. And for that reason, as well, no established verity is outside the scope of our critical concern. The image of a sacred cow is drawn from another religion, not our own.”

“I’m proud that Moment feels like home to people who are drawn to the center. Right now, the center is radical!”

Leibel in 1975, like the rest of us mortals, cannot see forward through time. Writing that he hopes Moment won’t be forgotten in 50 years, he conjures up a future doctoral student who might dedicate a dissertation to it. But Leibel never dreamed that Moment, at that time a print magazine assembled by the now-quaint practice of literally cutting and pasting, would someday evolve into a thriving multimedia community—one that functions as an archive of the past (including Moment’s); a home for wide-ranging conversation in the present and an innovative, forward-looking institute communicating through traditional print but also through digital, video and social media. How could he? Most of those media weren’t around or barely invented.

Our two founders and Hershel Shanks, Moment’s editor and publisher from 1987-2003, would all live long enough to see some of these changes, and I have been proud to build on their legacies. One of the first things I did when I took over Moment in 2004 was to begin the daunting task of digitizing issues to create our archive.

That was a major project and took years to complete, but it has made it possible for scholars and students worldwide to access decades of journalism and literary work produced by brilliant editors, writers, scholars and artists. (Today, Moment’s archive contains thousands of articles, symposia, reviews, short stories, poems and other items in hundreds of issues, as well as digital work from the past two decades.)

The “we” of Moment today is itself a story of change. After 11 months working as managing editor under Hershel and the auspices of the Biblical Archaeology Society, I assumed leadership of the magazine. Unlike the men before me, I wasn’t a known name in the Jewish world.

Although an experienced journalist, I knew little about the national Jewish scene or, for that matter, the nuts and bolts of publishing. And I was a woman, plus a single mom. In a complete gender reversal from its first three decades, Moment’s top editorial and management positions are now all held by women. Together, we’ve sought to channel the times, ensuring that the magazine and our various other programs remain relevant to new generations and to people from all walks of life.

I’ve spent time recently paging through Moment’s early issues. Stylistically they look a bit dated, but reading them has reminded me of what hasn’t changed in the past 50 years—not human nature and not the Jewish passion for religious and political debate. Then again, so much has changed. There have been periods when the lives of Jews varied little from generation to generation, but not so in the past 50 years, which have been remarkable for their pace of technological and social change.

I often marvel at how the future always surprises us. I’ve come up with a list of historical developments that I think many early readers of Moment and other thoughtful American Jews in 1975 would have found impossible to imagine (and each person who undertakes this exercise will and should have a different list). They are, in no particular order:

The Great Revitalization of American Judaism Would Stave Off Assimilation

Many of the serious Jews who were reading Moment in 1975 feared that assimilation loomed on the horizon. It was a word fraught with panic, viewed with both fear and secret desire. I am the granddaughter of four immigrants who mostly left religious observance behind and didn’t look back. My parents were very much Jewish but not religious. Yet every one of their grandchildren is devoted to Judaism and many are observant, some Orthodox. Despite the doomsday predictions of my childhood, Judaism is not in danger of vanishing.

Instead, it’s stronger than ever, with more portals in and more ways to practice and connect. That said, not every Jew will want to remain an involved member of the tribe. Yet the Jewish “retention rate” is nothing to scoff at; 76 percent of adults who were raised Jewish still identify as Jews, according to a 2025 Pew Research Center study—higher, incidentally, than the rate of American Catholics (57 percent). The sheer number of Jewish organizations, foundations and philanthropists that would come together to pour resources and creativity into reinvigorating Jewish life and culture in America, and to reaching different populations and generations, is simply astounding.

This includes the growth of Jewish day schools and adult education, groups preserving and promoting the resurgence of Hebrew, Yiddish and Ladino, and the renaissance of Jewish arts and experiences of all kinds. I don’t know if anyone is counting, but I’d venture a guess that more Jewish-themed books have been published (for adults, young adults and children) in the past five decades than ever before. This does not mean that some institutions in some communities have not shrunk or closed their doors as populations and interests have shifted. They have. But overall, the North American Jewish community (the one I know best) has shown incredible resilience—and Jewish values, languages, foods, films, music, art, humor, etc. have been readily absorbed by mainstream American culture. The fear of assimilation and the pull toward it have lessened, and it’s generally easier to be a proud Jew than ever before. (I’ll get to college campuses and antisemitism later.)

Intermarriage Would Not Devour The American Jewish Community

Between 1965 and 1974, the intermarriage rate for Jews hovered around 25 percent in the United States, according to a National Jewish Population Survey. From 1985 to 1990, 52 percent of Jews “married out.” Reflecting the Jewish community’s longtime fixation with intermarriage, Moment has recounted many efforts over the last 50 years to fight it, although when in 2017 we asked contributors to our “Ask the Rabbis” section, “Is it the job of rabbis to fight intermarriage?” all the answers were variations on “If you think of it as ‘fighting’ intermarriage, you’ve already lost.”

Jews continue to intermarry today—42 percent of married American Jews now have a non-Jewish spouse, according to the Pew Research Center—but intermarriage is not the binary choice it was in the past. Jews with non-Jewish spouses now often remain active in Judaism and raise their children as Jews, and many Jewish institutions, including synagogues, embrace interfaith families. This applies largely to the more liberal denominations; the rate of intermarriage among American Orthodox Jews in 2020 was less than 2 percent.

Women Spiritual Leaders Would Reinvigorate American Judaism

On June 3, 1972, Sally Priesand became the first female rabbi ordained by Hebrew Union College, the Reform seminary. Two years later, Sandy Eisenberg Sasso became the first woman ordained by the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College. Yet although the women’s movement was in full bloom in 1975, it was still very much a man’s world.

It would have been hard to imagine that in 2025, close to half of Reform rabbis in the United States would be women (with significant numbers also in other liberal denominations), and that even many Orthodox women would become clergy with titles such as rabba, rabbanit and maharat. Not to mention cantors—women’s voices now resound from the bimah. As the daughter of a female JCC executive director, I knew that women would hold high administrative positions in the Jewish world. Then again, I was also sure that by 2025 a woman would be elected president of the United States.

Jews of Color Would Change American Judaism for the Better

In 1975, eight years after the Supreme Court’s landmark Loving v. Virginia ruling, interracial marriage was legal across the United States. However, societal attitudes toward interracial marriage, including in the Jewish community, hadn’t caught up. Even once they did, Jews of color—including children—who entered Jewish spaces stood out and were not fully accepted. I’m not sure any of us would have imagined that today Jews of color would be welcomed, celebrated and hold communal leadership positions, although they still face discrimination in some segments of the community. Also not obvious in 1975: the degree to which Sephardi, Mizrahi and other non-Ashkenazi Jews would now be enriching mainstream American Judaism with their traditions.

LGBTQ Jews Would Come Out of the Closet and Into The Mainstream

In their wildest dreams, most people in 1975, including me, would never have imagined that LGBTQ people (a term that did not exist in 1975) would find so much acknowledgment and acceptance in mainstream culture and in Jewish life, and that even some parts of the Orthodox world would make room for them. Let alone that there would be such a thing as legal gay marriage and that the non-Orthodox world would sanction gay religious marriage and ordain gay clergy.

Despite contemporary headwinds, it is a true miracle of achievement that in such a short period, much of human society would come to understand that being LGBTQ is not a perversion but a natural occurrence and not something that can or should be hidden except at great personal and societal cost. This evolution and the debates surrounding it have played out in the pages of Moment and will continue to do so.

Orthodox Judaism Would Rebound and Flourish

Back in 1975, secular and liberal approaches to Judaism seemed ascendant. Although some demographers had discerned the trend, it was not at all preordained that Orthodox Jewry would flourish and grow in a world so different from the one that vanished in the Holocaust. But it has, and with this development have come more varied views in the Jewish community on policies from school vouchers to the separation of church and state. This shift has had a far more marked effect in Israel, where in 2024, according to the Israel Democracy Institute, the ultra-Orthodox population was 14 percent of the total population, almost tripling from 5.6 percent in 1979. Moment has watched closely as ultra-Orthodox political parties in Israel have become pivotal dealmakers with an outsized influence on Israel’s social and political landscape. Meanwhile, a recent Yale study projects that the Orthodox population in the United States will double by 2063, rising from 12 percent of Jews today to 29 percent.

Israel Would Transform Into the Start-Up Nation

Back in 1975, Israelis were already known as an industrious people, but Israel was a small backwater economy with a state-run socialist system. The country began implementing significant free-market reforms in the 1980s, with its high-tech sector truly taking off in the early 2000s. Today Israel is globally recognized as a capitalist powerhouse, particularly in research and development, innovation and startups (though the current war threatens its primacy). When I lived near Tel Aviv in 1975, it would have been unbelievable to me that the city and its environs would someday be a high-tech hub nicknamed Silicon Wadi after California’s Silicon Valley. Of course, I wouldn’t have heard of the latter either; it was still known as the Santa Clara Valley and best known for its fruit orchards.

Signing Middle East Peace Treaties Would Not be Enough

When Moment was founded in the wake of the Yom Kippur War, peace between Israel and her Arab neighbors seemed unlikely. The two-state solution as a potential resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict hadn’t yet gained traction, so Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and, later, President Jimmy Carter focused their diplomatic efforts on forging regional agreements, resulting in the 1978 Camp David Accords that ended hostilities between the Jewish state and Egypt and Jordan. Decades later, in 2020, the Abraham Accords would add the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain and Morocco to the fold. But the same 50 years have also seen unforeseen setbacks.

Who could have predicted the terrible consequences of the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran, not just for that county’s people but for the entire Middle East? Or the Iraq War, or ISIS? That a new Islamic extremist group such as Hamas would spring up with a mission of wiping Israel off the map was always a possibility. But it would have been inconceivable to a 1975 Moment reader that such a group would be able to channel more than a billion dollars into digging an extensive tunnel system and succeed in attacking Israel, killing 1,200 people and taking more than 240 hostage. Would the catastrophic clash that has followed October 7, with its staggering death toll in Gaza, be less of a surprise to those 1975 readers? I go back and forth on this. Sadly I don’t think the fact that the two-state solution has come to naught would be much of a shocker.

Israel’s Government Would Veer Right

When Moment was founded, every Israeli prime minister had been affiliated with the Labor movement, and right-leaning parties in the Knesset had never held the reins of power. This changed in 1977 when Menachem Begin led the Likud Party to victory. It was not at all obvious that beginning in 2009 a new Israeli right, led by Benjamin Netanyahu, would consolidate power, disemboweling the old Israeli left in the process. New generations of settlers, a rekindling of Ze’ev Jabotinsky’s Revisionist Zionist ideas, the exponential growth of Orthodox political power, the mass immigration of Jews from the former Soviet Union, the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin, two intifadas and the breakdown of the Oslo Accords were all factors not easily predicted in 1975. Who then would have thought that someday—in 2025—some Israeli government leaders would espouse extreme views associated with Meir Kahane, the fanatical founder of the Jewish Defense League who became an ultra-nationalist Israeli politician? This switch has occurred even though it is secular, liberal Israel that fuels the country’s economic growth. Certainly, few outside Netanyahu’s personal circle would have dreamed that he would someday become Israel’s longest serving prime minister, surpassing David Ben-Gurion. (In 1975, Netanyahu was a student, earning his bachelor’s in architecture from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology while simultaneously pursuing a master’s degree at MIT’s Sloan School of Management.)

Israel Would Divide American Jews

Who would have thought that the consensus of support for Israel that her friends spent so much effort building could be unwound in a few contentious years? Israel has long had its American Jewish critics, but post-October 7 their voices have become louder and angrier. While other American Jews have leapt to Israel’s defense, according to Moment’s 2025 Survey of Jewish Americans, more than 80 percent express reservations about the current Israeli government. Support for Israel among the general U.S. public has steeply declined. In 1991, it was 79 percent, according to Gallup polling on the issue. In 2025, it’s at a record low, with only 46 percent expressing sympathy for Israelis. Support among evangelical Christians, once reliable defenders of Israel, is also slipping: Young evangelicals are now only half as likely as their parents to support Israel.

Holocaust Memory Would Move to the Center of Jewish Identity

By 1975, Elie Wiesel, Primo Levi, Simon Wiesenthal and others had published books on the Holocaust, and The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank was taught in some schools as part of early efforts in Holocaust education. Yet, 30 years after Nazi Germany was defeated, the Holocaust wasn’t a topic of much public conversation, and many survivors chose to remain silent about their experiences. Everything changed after NBC aired the TV miniseries Holocaust: The Story of the Family Weiss for five consecutive nights in April of 1978.

A few months later, President Jimmy Carter signed an executive order to form a commission to make recommendations on establishing a Holocaust memorial in Washington, DC, which would eventually become the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. (The commission would be chaired by Elie Wiesel.) This was followed in 1981 by the first World Gathering of Jewish Holocaust Survivors, held in Jerusalem. These and other events would encourage many survivors to tell their stories to organizations such as Steven Spielberg’s Survivors of the Shoah Visual History Foundation (now the USC Shoah Foundation), to write books and to speak at both schools and the growing number of Holocaust museums and centers around the country. As survivors have passed away, their children and grandchildren have taken up the torch. There are a few surprises for a visitor from 1975 here. One has to do with the adoption of “Never forget” and “Never again” as key, almost theological beliefs and reasons to be Jewish. Another is that the Nazi’s insistence on blood as identity continues to haunt many American Jews, even those born long after the Holocaust. More shocking would be that in 2025, Holocaust denial is growing rapidly and is a major component of antisemitism.

Assimilation Would Be Replaced by an Older and Even More Frightening “A” Word

Moment has been at the vanguard of covering the recent resurgence of antisemitism from the far left and the far right into the American mainstream. At their core, these two streams of antisemitism both promulgate the same pernicious myth that Jews control the world, and both streams engage in Holocaust denial. That they would now flow together in a dangerous confluence is mind-boggling, as is the idea that taboos against antisemitic images and language would so quickly fall. This is not anything any sane person would have expected to occur in the United States—in 1975 or even as recently as 2014, when Moment published a major symposium asking, “Antisemitism: Where Does it Come From? Why Does it Persist?” Back then, experts generally agreed that antisemitism was a threat to the safety of Jews in Europe but not to those in the United States. Shockingly, 60 percent of respondents to Moment’s 2025 survey said they think Jews are less well off and less accepted today than 50 years ago—with antisemitism as the catalyst for the change.

College Campuses Would Erupt Over Israel

The anti-war demonstrations that raged on college campuses in the 1960s and early 1970s would have been fresh in the minds of Moment readers in 1975. But the idea that the next giant wave of campus unrest would be in the name of Palestinian rights, and would display anti-Israel fervor veering into outright anti-Jewish rage, would have been quite impossible for 1975 Jews to imagine. Readers of Moment and other keen observers back then were very much aware that the Jewish relationship to elite American universities was historically marred by quotas, and there have been many articles in Moment over the years exposing this injustice, along with others tracking the progress of Jewish students, faculty and college presidents. For many, the anti-Israel movement on campuses, which has been growing for the past two decades, has been particularly divisive and painful. Moment has covered this movement as it has evolved from many different directions.

In 2012, for example, our first Daniel Pearl Investigative Journalism Initiative story, “An Olympian Struggle,” took a deep dive into the nation’s first boycott of Israeli products by a food co-op in Olympia, WA, and uncovered the crucial role the atmosphere at Evergreen State College played in feeding the community’s anti-Zionist stance. Also unimaginable in 1975: the current administration’s crude efforts to strip funds and power from universities in the name of preventing antisemitism, as well as the furious divisions this has sowed in the Jewish community.

Technology… Just Wow!

IBM Selectrics and push-button phones were cutting-edge technology when Moment opened its first office in Newton, MA, in 1975. Since then, the magazine has covered wave after wave of the tech revolution and the ways it has affected American Jews and everyone else. We have done stories about Jewish dating apps; the Iron Dome and drones; virtual Judaism and interactive online archives of sacred scripture; BRCA genes; DNA testing and population genetics; TikTok; artificial intelligence, robots and chatbots—and how all these innovations have changed the Jewish experience. In 1975, most of them were still the stuff of science fiction, and we could only fantasize about how they might help humankind. Some of these achievements have proven to be truly life-changing, but who knew the pernicious and seductive ways that future modes of communication would interact with human brains and harm civil discourse? With the advent of email, social media, texting, AI and more, misinformation and conspiracy theories now travel at lightning speed, increasing the potency and danger of lashon hara (evil speech).

The Cold War Would End and Democracy Triumph—For a While

In 1975, the United States and the Soviet Union were enjoying a period of détente, but the Cold War was still very much a geopolitical fixture. Who could have imagined that the Berlin Wall would fall in 1989, and the Soviet Union dissolve in 1991? That South African apartheid would be gone by 1994 and China would open to the West? Or that just a few decades after that there might be a resurgence of autocracy heralded by the rise of a former KGB agent named Vladimir Putin or a global swerve back to populism and nationalism?

Our Great American Democracy Would Decline

The decade before the founding of Moment was one of domestic political and racial unrest, including the protests over the Vietnam War and the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. On August 8, 1974, while Moment was still in its pre-launch phase, Richard Nixon resigned as president. In 1975, his crimes seemed like the nadir of democracy and his resignation a moral victory. In retrospect, Nixon, a deeply flawed man, was far less of a threat to democracy than the current chaotic effort to disassemble centuries of work and undermine democratic values and institutions. For centuries, American democracy has been a beacon of hope to the world. It has always had its imperfections, but overall it made the world a safer and more humane place. Democratic pluralism has also given Jews in America the opportunity to be ourselves, set our own agendas and prosper in relative safety. I’m fairly sure that the great undoing of American government and moral stature that has taken place over the past few months (both domestic and international) would have been unforeseeable to all but the most diehard libertarians and anarchists in 1975.

“I cringe at all the proud condemnation going on right now in the name of integrity. Who’s it really helping”

For 50 years, Moment has chronicled the course of human events I’ve listed (and more I don’t have room for) through a Jewish lens. We have covered the incredible progress built upon centuries of the European and Jewish enlightenments, as well as the painful conflicts, tragedies and missed opportunities. On balance, it has been an era of great resilience and creative ferment for Jewish America, even taking into consideration the last few years. Forgive my optimistic take on this, but even the horrors of the Holocaust have been wisely channeled into lessons for everyone. Every way you look at it, America is greatly enriched by Jewish Americans, and we by her. We must resist letting the negatives dominate the Jewish story of the past 50 years. We must not let antisemitism become the overriding narrative of the present or the future or let it define us as Jews in America. I do not think our golden age is over. It was never as golden as we remember, anyway—it’s always been complicated.

On this occasion of Moment’s jubilee anniversary, I can’t help but try to imagine what American Jewish life might look like 50 years from now in the year 2075.

Fifty years, as I said, is just a drop in the bucket in Jewish time. Barring an earth-wide cataclysmic event, the Jewish rhythms of the day, the week, the month, the year will continue. Life cycles and other rituals will be observed, the Torah will be read each week, Hebrew prayers will be said in the morning to greet the day and at night before sleep. The Talmud will be pored over. The dead will be remembered as well as the ancient harvests and stories of our people, whether tragic or triumphant. Different kinds of Jews from all around the world will observe differently or not at all, but Jewish time will still connect us.

Barring the complete collapse of democracy in the United States, I’d also venture to say that the creativity and energy of American Jews will continue to abound. But I am worried nonetheless. I’m worried that if we continue on our current path, the American Jewish community will shatter into a gazillion pieces like the vessel holding divine light in Kabbalah. Again and again throughout history, Jews have paid a high price for internal divisions. Yes, the idea that there is one political Jewish people has always been an illusion, but the current levels of infighting and discord are beyond anything I have observed in my lifetime, and I have been watching since childhood. I saw firsthand how treacherous it was to navigate the shoals of Jewish divides, although my mother as a Jewish leader did it wisely. (Nearly half of our 2025 survey respondents said the community is divided, an additional 19 percent labeled it “polarized” and 32 percent called it “somewhat united.”) After studying the Jewish world for decades, it’s clear to me that we often draw different lessons from the same events, based on personal experience and learning.

That’s why at this particular moment we at Moment are working hard to counter polarization. Instead of sheltering in our own comfortable silos, we get in and stay in rooms with people with whom we disagree. We always try to climb beyond superficialities, find a branch we can all sit on and then grab a twig of nuance leading to something to agree on. To do this we have to prune back the self-righteousness that leads to condemning others, even when we vehemently disagree with them. I cringe at all the proud condemnation going on right now in the name of integrity. Who’s it really helping?

Antisemitism is confounding, deserving of all the Talmudic wrangling over its definition. It is real and frightening. Yet in many cases, our responses are making it worse. I have been in virtual and physical rooms where one group of Jews summarily dismissed another group of Jews as stupid or self-hating and wrote off entire segments of our fellow Americans as Jew-haters. These assumptions are rarely true and have toxic effects. In the long run, antisemitism is best battled by reaching out and building relationships one by one, not by making assumptions. It is certainly not countered by writing angry, snarky, self-certain posts on the fast draw.

I say this because there are great challenges before us as a people—pushing antisemitism from the mainstream, for one, will require careful strategy and coordination, and I want us to do a better job of collecting our divine sparks and coming together. I see this as the work of our time. It requires us to forsake simple narratives (even though our brains crave them) that lead to zero-sum thinking. Education and empathy, too, are antidotes to assumptions. I know it’s not as sexy as all-out battle, but this is what Moment is trying to model.

There is also more than the Jewish future at stake. The next 50 years could be bleak for humanity. Yes, I know humans have muddled through for thousands of years, and I’d like to say I trust innate human wisdom and sensibility. But as the disease of polarization has spread (thank you, technology), I am no longer sure that there are sufficient numbers of people at the center to balance those at the extremes. Common sense involves moderation, sharing values and understanding—all attributes that angry people, ambitious corporations, nationalist countries and fragmented societies lack or quash.

I promise Moment will help lead the way through the depths of our profound disagreements. We are committed to being a place where American Jews can come together to seek out new consensus. Now that the old center of American Judaism has shifted in the tides of time, American Jews need to come together and find a new center. Many of us are longing for that center, though we don’t get much attention amid the screaming voices from both sides. In fact, the vast majority of people who participated in our 2025 survey consider themselves center, center-left or center-right. What these categories mean to each of us is a matter of discussion, but I am proud that Moment feels like home to people who are drawn to the center. In my eyes, each one is a hero for our time. Right now, the center is radical!

Fifty years in, Moment continues to represent Jewish possibilities. The best ones. The ones in which we are a light unto the nations. There is hope as long as there is time. As David Ben-Gurion once said: “The difficult we do immediately. The impossible takes a little longer.”