Nearly 100 New Jersey rabbis wrote to now-former Gov. Phil Murphy and members of the New Jersey Assembly this week expressing concerns about reporting from Jewish Insider that Murphy and other Democratic leaders had blocked passage of legislation to adopt the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s working definition of antisemitism.

A source had told JI that Democratic leaders in the state were concerned that lawmakers who supported the legislation would be vulnerable to progressive primary challengers.

“This is a deeply troubling failure of leadership that places political calculations above the safety of the Jewish population,” the 95 rabbis wrote, highlighting a string of violent antisemitic incidents in the state and a report indicating that New Jersey was the state with the highest number of antisemitic incidents per capita in 2024.

“Prioritizing politics over antisemitism signals that Jewish safety is negotiable and subjects our community to further cases of harassment and violence,” the letter reads. “Therefore, we call on our political leaders in New Jersey to immediately revisit and pass legislation that adopts the IHRA definition of antisemitism, and applies that definition to training, education, and hate-crime response systems.”

The letter was first reported by NJ.com and organized by The Jewish Majority.

“Already in 2026 demonstrators have gathered outside Jewish institutions to support Hamas’ murder of Jews, and a synagogue has been burned,” the letter continued. “Now is not the time to play politics with our safety.”

The rabbis also said that the recent mass shooting at a Hanukkah event in Sydney, Australia, shows the “lethal consequences of ignoring such hate” and the necessity to provide “clarity around what constitutes Jew-hatred.”

“We spent a lot of time working on this issue in the legislation, and then when Gov. Murphy killed it very late in his term, [it] was really deflating and hurtful and frustrating,” one signatory, Rabbi David-Seth Kirshner of Temple Emanu-El in Closter, N.J., told JI.

He emphasized that the “worst event to happen in our modern era since the Holocaust [the Oct. 7 attacks] … was met in the diaspora, outside of Israel, with increased hatred towards Jews, and vilification and threatening of Jews” and that “what made it even worse is that when we started to wag a finger in the face of those who were threatening and hurting and intimidating the Jewish people, they were claiming it’s not antisemitic.”

New Jersey lawmakers are likely to pursue efforts to pass the IHRA bill again this year.

Kirshner said that the path forward is clear: “We did all the work, all the legislation. It was all put in front of us. Just put the bill out, and let’s pass it. New Jersey has the largest population of Jewish people outside of New York City. It’s the second largest out of our 50 states. We need to act like it.”

He emphasized that nothing about the bill would silence criticism of the Israeli government, as some critics have claimed. 

“It will give us guardrails, and it will give us a sense of protection that we are desperately seeking for the last 24-plus months since the worst day since the Holocaust,” Kirshner said.

He said that an executive order implementing the IHRA definition, “especially if it has all the nuts and bolts of the IHRA legislation” would be a “good stopgap measure” and would “engender some good will” for the new governor, Democrat Mikie Sherill, but said that it cannot be a replacement for the state legislature passing the bill.

A source told JI that such an executive order had been drafted and presented to Murphy’s office before the end of his term, amid outcry over the failure of the IHRA legislation, but it was not signed.

Over 800 rabbis from around the country signed on to an open letter on Wednesday voicing concern that, if elected New York City mayor, Zohran Mamdani would threaten “the safety and dignity of Jews in every city,” citing the Democratic nominee and front-runner’s antagonistic views towards Israel. 

“As rabbis from across the United States committed to the security and prosperity of the Jewish people, we are writing in our personal capacities to declare that we cannot remain silent in the face of rising anti-Zionism and its political normalization throughout our nation,” wrote the rabbis, representing the Reform, Conservative and Orthodox movements. 

In the letter, “A Rabbinic Call to Action: Defending the Jewish Future,” spearheaded by The Jewish Majority, signatories called out Mamdani’s refusal to condemn the slogan “globalize the intifada,” noted his denial of Israel’s legitimacy as a Jewish state and condemned his repeated accusations that Israel committed genocide in its war against Hamas in Gaza. 

“We will not accept a culture that treats Jewish self-determination as a negotiable ideal or Jewish inclusion as something to be ‘granted,’” the letter continued. “The safety and dignity of Jews in every city depend on rejecting that false choice.”

The signatories include the leaders of some of the largest synagogues in New York City, including Rabbi Joshua Davidson, senior rabbi at Temple Emanu-El; Rabbi David Gelfand, senior rabbi at Temple Israel of the City of New York; Rabbi Chaim Steinmetz, senior rabbi at Kehilath Jeshurun; Rabbi David Ingber, founder of Romemu and senior director of Jewish Life and the Bronfman Center at 92NY; and Rabbi Ammiel Hirsch, president of the New York Board of Rabbis and senior rabbi of Stephen Wise Free Synagogue. 

The letter, published three days before early voting for the Nov. 4 election begins, comes as some Jewish leaders have expressed frustration over a lack of organized opposition to Mamdani, who leads against his opponents, former New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo, running as an independent, and Republican nominee Curtis Sliwa.

It points to two recent public pleas from prominent New York City rabbis decrying Mamdani.  

“I do not speak for all Jews, but I do represent the views of the large majority of the New York Jewish community, which is increasingly concerned with your statements about Israel and the Jewish people,” Hirsch said in an online video last week, in which he was addressing Mamdani directly.  “Your opposition to Israel is not centered on policies, you reject the very existence of Israel as a Jewish state… I urge you to reconsider your long-held rejection of Israel’s right to exist. Be a uniter and a peacemaker.”

Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove of the Park Avenue Synagogue said in an address to his congregation last Saturday, “Mamdani’s distinction between accepting Jews and denying a Jewish state is not merely a rhetorical sleight of hand or political naïveté — though it is, to be clear, both of those — his doing so is to traffic in the most dangerous of tropes.”

The letter goes on to urge “interfaith and communal partners to stand with the Jewish community in rejecting this dangerous rhetoric and to affirm the rights of Jews to live securely and with dignity.”

It continues, “Now is the time for everyone to unite across political and moral divides, and to reject the language that seeks to delegitimize our Jewish identity and our community.”

Only in a family where nearly everyone is a rabbi does becoming a Cabinet secretary in one of the largest states in the nation make you a black sheep. 

That’s the joke that Uri Monson, Pennsylvania’s budget secretary, likes to make when describing his career as a public servant in the context of his family — a brother, father, grandfather and great-grandfather who were rabbis; a stepmother who was a lifelong Jewish nonprofit professional; and a mother who was a renowned Jewish academic and university administrator.

But coming out of that kind of lineage (his great-grandfather was the first person to certify Coca-Cola as kosher!), choosing a career in public service was Monson’s act of “pseudo-rebellion,” he said in an interview with Jewish Insider earlier this month. He didn’t stray that far from his Jewish values, though — during his first internship, at city hall in Philadelphia, he helped draft the mayor’s speech for Israeli Independence Day.

“I grew up a mile from Independence Hall. I’ve always been an American government junkie, and fascinated by and love[d] government and its ability to really help,” said Monson, 56. “I felt, even at 18, that I could make it better, that it had to be able to be done better, and that started me on that path to public service.” 

Even if Monson didn’t follow his family members into the Jewish professional world, growing up immersed in deep conversations about the weekly Torah portion over Shabbat lunch and spending his summers at Camp Ramah in the Poconos shaped his approach to public service just as much as his wonky fascination with fiscal policy and his master’s degree in public administration.

“What we’ve seen all along is that that Jewish perspective has shaped his commitment to what government can do and the way that society should work,” said Rabbi Chaim Galfand, the head rabbi at Perelman Jewish Day School in Philadelphia and a close friend of Monson’s. 

Monson attended the joint program at List College at the Jewish Theological Seminary, where he earned a bachelor’s degree from Columbia University and another, in midrash, from  JTS. The intellectual curiosity and creativity that comes from his expertise in interpreting the Torah — Monson calls himself a “midrash parsha junkie” — colors the way he approaches everything from budgetary policy to his weekly Settlers of Catan board games with Galfand each Shabbat. 

The biblical stories about Joseph are his favorite; Joseph’s “rise in the political world,” from slave to advisor to the Egyptian pharaoh, is particularly resonant for Monson. But he doesn’t think there is only one way to engage with these stories, and that’s a lesson that guides his approach to public policy, too.

“When you make that jump to learning that the Talmud is not a book of law, but that it’s a book of how to think about law, it’s a major change. It’s a major jump in thought,” Monson said. “To realize that you had people disagreeing over really complex issues of Jewish law — that’s how they lived their lives, and what they actually record [in the Talmud] is the discussion and the back-and-forth and the debate. They were able to do it while living civilly together.”

Monson started his career in Washington as a policy advisor at the Department of Education during the Clinton administration. He has friends from that era who have lost their jobs as the Trump administration slashes the federal workforce. Monson does not reflexively believe all public employees have a right to keep their jobs; his former boss, President Bill Clinton, also stressed efficiency and shrunk the federal workforce by hundreds of thousands of people. But he does think those workers should be respected.

“There are few of us who have a mantra, and I share this with the governor, that [we] cannot stand the phrase, ‘That’s the way we’ve always done it.’ There are always opportunities for change,” he said, referring to Gov. Josh Shapiro. “The biggest difference for me between what I was a part of and what the current administration is doing is that that change was all about employee empowerment.” Shapiro has made a play for laid-off federal workers, encouraging them to apply to fill vacancies in Pennsylvania.

Monson’s time in Washington got him started on his path to Harrisburg — both because it was his first full-time gig in the government, and also because it was in this era that he reconnected with Shapiro, who was working on Capitol Hill at the time. 

“Like most expatriate Eagles fans, we would find each other to watch games, that kind of thing,” said Monson. But their relationship goes back decades: Shapiro and Monson’s younger brother, Ami, were in the same grade at Akiba Hebrew Academy, a pluralistic Jewish day school in the Philadelphia suburbs. (CNN anchor Jake Tapper was another classmate.) Shapiro’s parents and Monson’s were active in the Soviet Jewry movement of the 1970s and 1980s.

“Uri and I both lean on our family and our faith as motivation to serve the good people of Pennsylvania,” Shapiro told JI in a statement last week. “We are both driven by the same Jewish principle of tikkun olam, and from the passage from the Talmud that teaches us that no one is required to complete the task, but neither are we free to refrain from it.”

Shapiro’s first video ad in his 2022 gubernatorial campaign showed him, his wife and their children celebrating Shabbat. Monson, who observes Shabbat and does not work or travel from sundown Friday until Saturday night, receives weekly “Shabbat shalom” emails from Shapiro.

“When he offered me the job, I said, ‘I’m not going to be in Harrisburg on Fridays in the winter’” — when Shabbat begins in the late afternoon — “and he said he understood,” Monson recalled. Over the years, his colleagues have gotten used to Monson’s Shabbat observance, sending emails on Saturdays with the subject line “read me first” to try to capture his attention after Shabbat ends.

“Once in a while they’re like, ‘Maybe I want to be Jewish too,’ because they need a break,” Monson said, laughing. 

Monson returned to Philadelphia in the late 1990s for the first in a series of increasingly powerful jobs dealing with municipal and school district budgets. In 2012, when Shapiro was chair of the Montgomery County Board of Commissioners, he tapped Monson to serve as chief financial officer of the commonwealth’s third most populous county. Monson then spent seven years as chief financial officer of the School District of Philadelphia, which has a budget of $4.6 billion, helping shepherd the district through the tumult of the COVID-19 pandemic. He joined Shapiro in Harrisburg in early 2023.

“Uri had a very calming presence of being able to lead with certainty in very uncertain times,” said Larisa Shambaugh, the former chief talent officer in the Philadelphia school district, where she worked closely with Monson. She saw him take a forward-looking approach to budgeting, thinking not just about cost but about how to advance the interests of the school district.

“What was truly a joy about working with Uri is that he wasn’t a CFO that was focused only on finances and only on the bottom line,” Shambaugh explained. “When we would be thinking about proposing a new initiative or a new policy or a new staffing structure, the first question wasn’t, How much would this cost and can we afford it? It was, Why is this best for students?”

Shambaugh also benefitted from another skill Monson brought with him to his next job: his baking skills. He baked lemon squares for a meeting with new school board members. When he found out Shambaugh loved challah, he baked her one. In his new job, he’s baked cranberry walnut muffins twice — once to relax before a budget hearing and once to get rid of flour before Passover — and brought hamantaschen to the capital during Purim. (“We’ve all been on the receiving end of his largesse,” said Galfand.)

Monson has spent the spring testifying at Statehouse hearings about Shapiro’s $51.5 billion budget proposal. This is the forum where he allows his Torah discussion skills to shine: keeping his cool under sometimes hostile questions from Republicans, and disarming them by actually being willing to engage. (When he sat down at this year’s budget hearings, he wore a custom kippah showing the commonwealth of Pennsylvania, made by an artist his wife found on Etsy.)

“I will never claim to have a monopoly on good ideas, and I think that’s something I certainly learned from around the table and from growing up among the rabbis,” said Monson. “I want to learn from everybody, because you can learn from everybody, and be open to the discussion.”