Why should a male who is in a wheelchair not get an aliyah to the Torah?

Jewish life is a rich tapestry of sound, sight and communal gathering. But what does inclusion mean for Jews who can neither see nor hear?

In celebration of America’s Semiquincentennial—the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence—it is fitting to pause and reflect on the American Jewish experience, and specifically the Orthodox Jewish experience.

Living in America, with its emphasis on freedom, democracy and individualism, was—and continues to be—both a blessing and a challenge to perpetuating Jewish values and practice.

Was the United States a providential haven for Jewish flourishing—or a subtle engine of assimilation?

Jewish Action Editor-in-Chief Nechama Carmel spoke with Rabbi Yaakov Glasser, the OU’s managing director of Community Engagement, about American individualism, rising antisemitism and the hidden cost of freedom.

From twenty-three Jewish refugees arriving in New Amsterdam in 1654 to the establishment of OU Kosher in 1923

For the tiny Jewish community of Newport, Rhode Island, the question was urgent: Would the new republic merely tolerate Jews, or would it recognize them as full and equal citizens?

Having escaped the shadow of the Spanish Inquisition, Aaron Lopez built a legacy not in wealth or commerce, but in the freedom to live fully as a Jew—creating a foundation for generations to follow.

If Orthodoxy would take root in American soil, it would be because figures like Isaac Leeser planted it deliberately and tended it with care.

What he encountered here—resistance, reform, loneliness and relentless responsibility—would define the challenges facing Orthodoxy in America for generations.

As Israelites in a Christian community, where our youth associate and compete with their fellow citizens in all the branches of the arts and sciences, it is essential they should go provided with a knowledge of their own doctrines.

The Americanized Jews of Manhattan didn’t appreciate Rabbi Joseph’s style of Yiddish oration and considered him a “greenhorn.”

The rabbi’s challenge bordered on the impossible: to go against the mainstream culture and attract a generation of young people sliding into the American melting pot.

We [still] observed all the Jewish holidays. I have never seen a more beautiful Pesach than in our little log cabin, four miles from any neighbor, right in the middle of the woods.

Read carefully, and the responsa form an unexpected chronicle: the halachic history of American Jewry.

Burial is, in many ways, the last physical act of kindness one can do for a loved one.

There is no one-size-fits-all script. Every person is an individual.

Are New World birds, such as turkey and Muscovy duck, kosher?

Every country has its own cuisine. What, then, of a country whose identity is a melting pot of all other nations?

This book addresses a significant shortcoming within the Orthodox world: our collective unease regarding disability in the shidduch system.

Rabbi Etshalom explores the different ways in which Amos’s “rhetorical sleight-of-hand” may be interpreted or experienced . . .

The new Koren translation constantly seeks to improve upon earlier translations.

One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories; Gan Shoshanim, Vol. 4

We march through time, and it marches through us.

Mesorat Menachem: Jubilee Volume in Honor of Rabbi Menachem Genack (2 volumes)