Craig Taubman

09/16/2026

Watching the sunset on Maui, it’s fairly easy to step down from the illusion I’m in control and surrender to the fading sun.
In this quiet time I accept my humble finiteness and trust that the creator will watch over me. Lila Tov!

09/12/2026

SEPTEMBER 11, 2026

Dear Friends

As I write this, the year is not quite over, and the gates are not quite open.

There is sadness in what remains unfinished.
Hope in what may still be possible.
And prayer in the in-between.
We stand at the threshold,
still believing that life is beautiful.

Shana Tova—to a sweeter, kinder, loving and less judgmental new year. I invite you to listen to “Life Is Beautiful,” a relatively new song of mine, on the Jewels website.

Craig

ELUL 28 · DAY 28 of 29 · SEPTEMBER 8, 2026 Family StoryBlu and Yitz GreenbergIn 1906, Moshe Yehuda Genauer was a young father in Tchernowitz, Austro-Hungary. After a pogrom, his aunt said, “This is no place to raise a Jewish family.” She gave him a ticket to America, telling him to earn money ...

09/11/2026

Sharon Brous is smart, curious, kind, clever, brave, articulate, gutsy—and she takes my phone calls. A rare combination in a rabbi, or anyone else. All this and more makes her an awesome addition to this year’s Jewels of Elul.

Invisible Threads
Our trip to Vietnam was a long-planned family vacation, but after October 7th, and my father’s death weeks before, my will to adventure halfway around the world had dissolved. I ached for community, especially since our destinations were so remote I knew we’d never find a daily minyan, leaving me unable to say the Mourner’s Kaddish. But that’s not all. One night, after being taunted by hostile tourists, we instructed the kids: hats over kippot, Magen David necklaces tucked beneath their shirts. I didn’t want to cede public space to antisemites but didn’t want our Jewish pride to land us in the hospital. The next day, we set out on a boat through the emerald waters of Ha Long Bay. Five tourists spotted us and, not-at-all-subtly, pointed to my kid’s necklace, only partly obscured by her shirt. They started to whisper: “Jews! Jews! Jews!” My heart pounded. Later, one approached me. “Hey,” she said. “Are you Jews?” “Yes, we are Jews.” “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “We’re Jews too! We were so excited to see your daughter’s … we literally started to cheer: ‘Jews! Jews! Jews!’” “You’re five Jews?!” I asked. “I’m saying Kaddish for my father. Any chance you’ll join us for a minyan?” “We’re saying too!” she exclaimed.
“For our father!” Now we were both crying. And that is how, in the midst of a world on fire, ten Jews made a Kaddish on a boat in Vietnam. I’m so glad my kid didn’t take off her necklace. It allowed me to rediscover the invisible threads that connect me to my father, and to our people, too.

Did you miss a Jewel? Find all at the Jewels at our website.

IKAR Anne Frank LA The Sanctuary At Pico Union Pico Union Project Jewish Community Foundation of Los Angeles Craig Taubman

ELUL 28 · DAY 28 of 29 · SEPTEMBER 8, 2026 Family StoryBlu and Yitz GreenbergIn 1906, Moshe Yehuda Genauer was a young father in Tchernowitz, Austro-Hungary. After a pogrom, his aunt said, “This is no place to raise a Jewish family.” She gave him a ticket to America, telling him to earn money ...

09/10/2026

Michael Dorf is cool. He was just 23 when he founded the legendary Knitting Factory in 1987. Today, he runs City Winery, with music venues across the country serving great music, great food and, of course, their own w**e. But Michael’s real gift may be bringing people together. He founded Tribeca Hebrew, produces New York’s wonderfully eclectic Downtown Seder and, through his annual Carnegie Hall concerts, has raised more than $2.2 million for music education and other worthy causes. Now I’m fortunate to know him as a good friend—and I also know that he’s a great storyteller, with a wonderful Jewel to share. Read on!

If you want the story that shaped me, I don’t need to reach back to childhood. I need to reach back to yesterday. A boat line. Because I skipped it. Yup. Guilty as charged.

Call it inverted Larry David syndrome: I didn’t get wronged; I did the wronging—and I’ve spent 24 hours marinating in guilt, from which even my talent for rationalization cannot talk me down.

Friends near the front waved us over. It was a violation of the Eleventh Commandment—Thou Shalt Not Skip the Line—but I put my head down and followed them, hoping no one would recognize me. We cut about 30 people.

Read the rest of Michael's story at Jewel's website below!

ELUL 28 · DAY 28 of 29 · SEPTEMBER 8, 2026 Family StoryBlu and Yitz GreenbergIn 1906, Moshe Yehuda Genauer was a young father in Tchernowitz, Austro-Hungary. After a pogrom, his aunt said, “This is no place to raise a Jewish family.” She gave him a ticket to America, telling him to earn money ...

09/09/2026

I have wanted to be many things in my life. Nothing more than to be beloved. Admiration may come from intelligence, talent, or accomplishment. But to be beloved is different. It means people cherish how you make them feel when they are with you.

Today’s “Jewelers,” Blu and Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, possess that rare quality. Their presence inspires awe, but their humility and curiosity close the distance and make people feel they matter. And so, I turn to Blu and Yitz for inspiration—and remind myself that my story is not yet finished.

FAMILY STORY
In 1906, Moshe Yehuda Genauer was a young father in Tchernowitz, Austro-Hungary. After a pogrom, his aunt said, “This is no place to raise a Jewish family.” She gave him a ticket to America, telling him to earn money and bring his family to a better place for Jews.

Moshe came to New York. Being a yeshiva bochur, he had no professional skills. He decided to become a peddler. He went to the East Side but saw dozens like him trying to peddle.

He went to Seattle, where he bought a used suit from a man in a wealthy neighborhood. He went back to his room to fix the suit and resell it. He found a valuable diamond brooch in the pocket. He immediately walked back to the mansion and asked to see the man. His wife resisted but relented when he explained he had found a brooch in the suit. When she called the man in, Moshe said, “I bought a suit from you, not a diamond brooch, so I am here to return the jewelry.”

The man was president of Rainier National Bank. He said to Moshe, “I see that you are a truly honest man.” He extended an open line of credit to him. Moshe settled in Seattle and used the credit to open a wholesale men’s clothing firm. The business supported him and his six-son family for a century.

Jewish ethics teach us that honesty is the best policy. Our family's story teaches us that the greatest inheritance we can leave our children is our integrity.

This is Blu Genauer Greenberg’s family story.

Paul Jeser Rabbi Yitz Greenberg Hadar Anne Frank LA The Sanctuary At Pico Union Pico Union Project Craig Taubman The Wexner Foundation

ELUL 28 · DAY 28 of 29 · SEPTEMBER 8, 2026 Family StoryBlu and Yitz GreenbergIn 1906, Moshe Yehuda Genauer was a young father in Tchernowitz, Austro-Hungary. After a pogrom, his aunt said, “This is no place to raise a Jewish family.” She gave him a ticket to America, telling him to earn money ...

09/08/2026

A few months ago, while compiling a list of contributors for Jewels. I asked my friend Dan Rothblatt who he considered the ultimate matriarch of the Los Angeles Jewish community. Without missing a beat, he said, “Annette Shapiro.” I replied, “Of course.”

Annette was legendary. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. If you had a dream to fulfill, you went to Annette. If you needed to rally the troops, you asked for her help.

So I called Annette and asked if she would write a Jewel. Two days later, I received her first draft. Over the next week, we spoke several times, refining her words and reminiscing about a lifetime of relationships and community. Two weeks later, Annette passed away.

Rabbi Hillel asked, “If not now, when?” Annette answered that question with her life—and, in her final weeks, with this Jewel. May her memory be a blessing. May her legacy remind us that words left unspoken and gratitude postponed may never have another moment.

Think of someone who has touched your life. Write to them. Call them. Tell them now.

Jewish Wisdom by Annette Shapiro
Jewish wisdom is something I learned not only through words, but through the lives of those who came before me. My story begins with my grandfather who came to Los Angeles in 1916 with determination, dignity, and a deep sense of responsibility. By 1920, he was serving as the director of the Los Angeles Home of the Aged, and the legacy he began has continued through four generations of our family — from my parents to my husband and me, and now to our children and grandchildren.

I was raised with the understanding that we are meant to care for others and to strengthen the community around us. My family entrusted me with that responsibility, and my husband's family shared the same values. Together, we inherited a life shaped not by what we own, but by what we give.

For years I thought this was my family's story. Eventually I realized it had become my own. That is why I chose to devote my time to fundraising, volunteering, and helping sustain the organizations that strengthen our Jewish community. Over time, I came to see that this work is not just important—it is deeply personal. It reflects who we are, what we believe, and how we show up for one another.

What means the most to me is seeing my children carry this tradition forward. Knowing that the values planted by my great-grandfather continue to grow in the hearts of the next generation is one of my greatest blessings.

To me, that is Jewish wisdom: the understanding that a legacy is never measured by what we leave behind, but by what lives on in others.

Jewish Community Foundation of Los Angeles Jewish Federation Los Angeles Jewish Journal Beit T'Shuvah Rabbi Mark Borovitz Anne Frank LA

09/06/2026

One of the first groups we hosted at the Pico Union Project was NewGround: A Muslim-Jewish Partnership for Change founded and led by Aziza Hasan.
At a NewGround storytelling event in 2013, my seatmate was Joey Soloway. Joey told me about a new show they had pitched to Amazon. If it was picked up, Joey promised, the synagogue scenes would be filmed at the Pico Union Project.

I knew enough about Hollywood to understand that the odds of the show being picked up were about as likely as the Red Sea splitting—and the chances of a producer keeping their word were about as likely as McDonald’s serving kosher burgers. But the sea split. The pilot of Transparent debuted on February 6, 2014. Amazon picked up the series, and Joey kept their word.

Yet becoming part of TV history is not the real story. Without Transparent filming at Pico Union, there might not have been a Pico Union Project. During those fragile first years, Joey, Amazon, and Transparent were among our first angels. They helped us keep our doors open to our extraordinary Pico Union community—and gave us the courage to build for tomorrow. Joey may not be part of my everyday life, but they are most certainly an angel in it.

Joey’s Jewel, is radiant. The language is biblical. The vision is mystical. The message is prophetic and the brilliance pure Joey.
Read it once. Then read it again—and perhaps a few more times.
And ask yourself: What if?

I got high at Sixth and Flower
where the towers made of blue
looked down like glassy pharaohs.
The morning had a metal mouth.
Every man in every suit
was hurrying toward his gates.
Not heaven’s gates.
Not temple doors.
Just elevators, lobby guards,
and offices of doom.
My fingers shone like tiny shrines,
pink wax and painted flame.
I looked at them and heard God say,
Child, I know your name.
Not from a cloud.
Not from a throne.
Not from a book of laws,
but from the sidewalk
splitting wide
beneath the city jaws.
O Beloved, where are You
in all this glass?
And the Beloved answered:
I am not the trophy cup.
I am down here
where the subway sings.
I am in the trembling hand.
I am in the frightened bird
too small to understand.
The road to your salvation
will be littered with
the corpses of illusion.
The little gods of money
all collapsing.
The dead need for permission
The dead hunger for applause.
And the towers were not towers then.
They were candles in the rain.
The bankers were not monsters then.
But children trained in pain.
The street was not a street.
It was just Sinai wearing grime.
I saw the one God laughing
in the awful morning sun.
No trophy. No gold. No steak.
No rabbi selling light.
No big ass gatekeeper
keeping watch upon my night.
No father with a ledger.
No pharaoh with a phone.
No enemy could own me.
No tower stood alone.
Just God in the pavement.
God in the subway iron
where the swallowed people pass.
God in the warning whisper.
God in the enemy’s love.
The Beloved said,
You are lovely,
though the city
called you wild.
And the Beloved
walked beside me, not above me,
not ahead,
but in every dirty flower
that was blooming from the dead.

Anne Frank LA Margrit Betty P***k Reboot Sanctuary At Pico Union Jewish Community Foundation of Los Angeles Kelli Mayo

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09/04/2026

I’m what some might call an over sharer—or, as my wife gently reminds me, someone who should “remember his boundaries.”
This year, I’ve tried to honor her wishes: care more, share less. At times it’s been a challenge, but more often than not, it's served me well.
So, without oversharing, I’ll simply say that last year was a roller coaster, filled with abundant highs and extraordinary lows.
This song represents one of the highest highs: my son Noah’s union with Pam. To a thousand tomorrows.

Craig Taubman

09/03/2026

I Judge Everything

I went to Hebrew school, spent summers at Camp Ramah and lived in Israel for two years. By most measures, I was a knowledgeable Jew. At least I thought I was.

Then, twenty-four years ago, Cantor Eva Robbins asked me to write a song for Elul based on Psalm 27. I smiled, nodded…and had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

So I set out to learn about Elul and discovered something beautiful: the tradition doesn’t expect us to get our act together overnight. It gives us twenty-nine days to pause, reflect, repair, forgive and begin again.

That discovery changed me. And I thought: What if I wrote twenty-nine reflections to share? Simple—perhaps even a little arrogant. Then reality set in. Not even my mother would read twenty-nine straight days of Craig Taubman thoughts.

So I went to Plan B. I invited twenty-nine of the coolest people I knew to each write one reflection, printed them in a small booklet and assumed it would be one-and-done.

I was wrong.

People asked for another the next year. And the year after that. Jewels of Elul grew in ways I never imagined. Nearly 700 people from different faiths, cultures, professions and points of view—some famous, others known only to their families and communities—have shared a Jewel.

That diversity was never accidental. Jewels has always sought wisdom wherever it could be found. Pirkei Avot asks, “Who is wise?” and answers: “The one who learns from every person.”
Every person.

That’s a lot harder than it sounds. Learning from people we admire is easy. Learning from people who annoy, challenge, offend or intimidate us? That’s where curiosity takes guts—and a spine.

The world—my world—is running short on both. We’ve become louder and less willing to listen. We don’t just disagree; we label, belittle, dismiss and unfollow. We decide who someone is before we’ve heard how they got there.

Somewhere along the way, we lost our nerve. When I was young, almost nothing seemed beyond discussion. We argued, questioned, provoked and occasionally offended one another—but we stayed curious.

Today, too many subjects feel off-limits and too many questions feel dangerous. We haven’t just lost our patience with one another. We’ve lost our guts. Our spine. Our willingness to remain in the room when the conversation becomes uncomfortable.

That became this year’s theme: Before You Judge Me.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: I judge everything. People. Politics. Religion. Clothes. Restaurants. My children. Other people’s children. I judge people for being judgmental—which may be my favorite hypocrisy of all.

The danger is how quickly judgment masquerades as truth.
Some of this year’s contributors have spent years disagreeing with one another. Good!

If you want a collection of people who agree, Jewels is the wrong booklet. Bringing together people who disagree may be a recipe for disaster. It may also be the point.

Curiosity without a spine can become passivity. A spine without curiosity can become rigidity. Radical curiosity asks us to hold both: our convictions and the possibility that we may not possess the whole truth.

Can we be curious enough to ask, “How did you come to believe that?”—and brave enough to stay for the answer? Not to rebut or correct. Not even to agree. Just long enough to consider one dangerous possibility: God forbid, what if I’m wrong?

Find your curiosity. Claim your spine. The only way forward is through. Through the discomfort. Through our certainty. Through the stories of people we would rather dismiss.

Hashiveinu—return us. Not to who we were. Not to who we are. But to who we might yet become.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Anne Frank LA The Sanctuary At Pico Union Pico Union Project Danny Maseng

09/02/2026

I Judge Everything

I