I have a question for you: during COVID, what has been your guilty pleasure in TV watching? A show you that might judge others for watching, but there you are?

Well, Tim and I love Project Runway. We’ve been watching the latest season and loving the catty comments, the meltdowns, the cool condescension, and the clarity of Nina Garcia.

We loved Heidi Klum’s tagline: “In Fashion, one minute you’re in, and the next you’re out.” Which might also work as the shortest description of Jewish history ever.

 Most of all, Tim and I enjoy watching talented creative people approach design challenges and take flat material and turn it into these wearable sculptures.

When it’s time in each episode for the actual runway, we are all in. We become Nina Garcia. It is, and this is a sad confession, one of the only times I put my work aside and give my undivided attention to the TV screen. You see how some people’s skills and talent stand out, and how brilliant they are in both conceptualizing and creating the garments. What the rest of us don’t see, they see clearly. Like all artists, it is a gift.

The part of the Torah we are reading now is also about the gift of artists. The community comes together to donate the materials and create the Mishkan, the tabernacle, guided by Bezalel, a person everyone recognizes as being blessed with artistic genius and skills in the craft. There are other women and men who guide and oversee other parts of the project: metal crafting, woodworking, making the furnishings and ritual items, and yes – making fabrics and sewing.

This week’s entire portion except for a few verses at the beginning is a very detailed description of the design and crafting of the garments to be worn by the Cohen Gadol, the High Priest, Aaron: what materials can and can’t be used, the colors, how some threads should be woven, how the breastplate connects to the rest of the garment. There are bells on hems; there are turbans, embroidered aprons, and elaborate breastplates of semi-precious stones and gold - even special underwear only to be worn by the Cohen Gadol.

This is God’s Project Runway. God gives the Israelites the episode’s challenge in Genesis 28 to “ Make holy garments for your brother Aaron for honor and splendor.”

The elaborate outfits of the High Priest are so far removed from our Judaism that this part of Torah can seem tedious, arcane, perhaps historically interesting but spiritually off-putting.

But think for a moment about how much clothes reflect your sense of who you are in the world, and how you want others to think of you. How does what you choose to wear reflect your values?

Some people say they don’t care what they wear…. until you try to substitute their clothes for a completely different style.

Maybe your clothes reflect that comfort is an important value for you, ease.

Maybe modesty is.

Maybe looking in the know and on trend matters is a value you hold dear.

Maybe sustainability is a value that really shows in what you wear.

Maybe fair labor and trade is.

Maybe your spirituality is what your want to convey in what you wear.

Maybe your individuality and noncomformity is.

Maybe blending in is.

Yesterday in our sixth and seventh grade Hebrew School class, we talked in a way about those last three. We were talking about how they navigate being part of a small minority but also completely part of the larger culture. I was very glad to hear that they all said that it was not an issue, and except for asking them over and over what they got for Christmas, they were really comfortable being Jewish in school.

When I asked them to stop and realize how fortunate they are and to have gratitude that they have been lucky enough to grow up in a place and time when they could say that.

I asked them if they think they would be as comfortable if they wore kippot or tzitzit?

When I shared a bit about our experience on a vacation to southern France a few years ago, where there had been attacks on Jewish people and we were told by Jews there not to wear kippot in public or to cover it with a hat for safety. Germany has warned people to do the same.

That was when one of the students asked this question:

What’s the right thing to do in that case? Is it to cover it up and hide who you are? Or is it better to wear it as a sort of protest to be proud?

How do we as Reform Jews answer that? Especially with such an increase in attacks on Orthodox Jews in urban areas?

The discussion was brilliant, with one person saying that provoking someone, even a hater might result in you having to be violent so maybe it’s better to avoid the conflict and the potential of violence. Others felt that staying safe and saving your life was the top value. Others felt that hiding didn’t feel like the right choice either.

There isn’t one right answer. It is right to avoid violence and take steps to deescalate it. It is right to put your safety first. And it is right that hiding from bullies and haters usually doesn’t result in being safer or less harassed. As we relearn each Purim, hiding does not protect us. In Judaism, ethical action lies in finding a balance between competing rights and competing wrongs, not in choosing one and ignoring the truth in the competing claims.

As we are in the Month of Adar, and heading toward Purim, and as we face increasing moments that call for solidarity and visibility, it is a good time for us to reflect on that student’s fantastic question and the insights our students brought to it.

It is also a good time to start designing and sewing your Purim costumes.

Shabbat shalom.