Wearing khaki shorts and displaying a pierced ear, Denver Rabbi Adam Morris doesn’t look the part of a typical congregation leader. This notion is further solidified when visiting him at work at the Montview Boulevard Presbyterian Church in Park Hill. However, Morris is a rabbi, and his synagogue, Temple Micah, is housed inside the Park Hill chapel. Temple Micah, he said, has shared spaces with churches since the 1970s, further serving the mission of walking humbly beside all people.
“Living inside of a church is important to us; it’s who we are,” Morris, who is known to his congregants as Rabbi Mo, said. “We couldn’t live with a church where the community didn’t approach the world the way we do, and by that I mean, people are willing to live thoughtfully, respectfully, lovingly in the gray area.”
The gray area has been a particularly resonant theme for the Rabbi since October 7, 2023. Following Hamas’s terrorist attack in Israel, the worst act of violence against Jewish people in a single day since the Holocaust, and the unrelenting war that has killed over 40,000 Palestinians in Gaza, Morris has emphasized this paradigm.
“October 7 was a tragedy and tens of thousands of innocents killed in Gaza is a tragedy, too,” Rabbi said.
This past March, Rabbi Mo visited Israel and Palestine through an organization called MEJDI Tours. He felt compelled to join the tour on behalf of “his people,” referring to both synagogue congregants and members of the Montview Boulevard Presbyterian Church.
“MEJDI creates dual-narrative travel throughout the world,” Morris said. “It was founded by a Jewish American and Palestinian, and they started doing trips in Israel and Palestine 15 years ago. The idea is you go and get exposed to everything. The agenda is, ‘Let’s go hear people’s stories.’”
“It was an incredible experience; it was a hard trip,” Morris said. “They put us in front of such an interesting array of people who were just struggling to make sense, trying to respond to what happened on October 7. There were Jews, there were Palestinians, [and] there were Christians. There were people who you might consider ‘left’ and there were people who you might consider ‘right.’ People involved in organizations trying to do this work and people trying to figure their way out of this.”
On the MEJDI tour, Morris traveled with eight other people. “We came to be curious and to listen,” he said. “No one came with an agenda, trying to convince one side of one way or another side of another way. People were not striving to be polarized. They wanted to sit in the gray area and hold both truths. That group intention made for such great space.”
Rabbi Morris called the MEJDI trip one of the most profound experiences of his life to date. “[It] hasn’t changed my practice [as a rabbi] dramatically but has deepened my understanding of holding two truths and trying to sit in that and not get lost in the reactive rabbit hole,” Rabbi said.
The “reactive rabbit hole” fosters extremism, which “makes it difficult for the rest of us to engage thoughtfully,” the Rabbi said. “The problem in Israel is that the extremists are the ones in power, and the war has played into them seizing and deepening their power.”
Temple Micah is a reform synagogue, and much of its membership aligns with liberal or progressive American values. Rabbi Morris has observed mixed views on the war amongst his congregants. “Many love Israel, but also question it,” he said, adding that some have asked, “How can they do this in my name?”
When news of the attacks first spread last year, Rabbi Mo didn’t turn to a specific Jewish passage or prayer.
“We lean into what’s there,” he said, contextualizing Torah in the present day. “Torah portions, the liturgy, every time we engage, we are approaching it from a different perspective because of what’s happened in our lives.”
Rabbi Morris compared the Torah to a good mentor, teacher or therapist. “[Torah] will lift you up, support you [and] give you insight about yourself,” Rabbi said. “And other times, they might kick your butt and point you to some hard truths.”
In the same way that a rabbi turns to Torah for guidance and direction, so too do his congregants turn to him. “What drew me to [becoming a rabbi] is the invitation I get into people’s important moments in their lives,” Rabbi said. “Some of them planned and scripted, some of them not, difficult ones. It’s humbling and enriching to be invited in and to somehow help people, walk with them through those moments, help them find meaning, and hold them a little more closely. That’s stayed true for the 30 years I’ve been doing this.”
The first commemoration of the October 7 attacks will fall during the holiest period of the year for Jewish people, collectively known as the High Holidays or High Holy Days. The High Holidays begin at the start of the Hebrew month Elul and culminate with the 10 Days of Repentance.
Rosh Hashanah, which translates to “head of the new year,” kicks off the first of the 10 days on October 2. The final day, Yom Kippur, or “day of atonement,” is a somber day where people fast and reflect upon the wrongdoings they’ve committed in the past year to do better in the year ahead.
“The theme of the high holidays is ‘teshuvah,’ meaning ‘repentance,’” Rabbi said. “Teshuvah has to do with returning—returning to core values, your essence, your authentic purpose, said Morris. We reset; we get rid of those things that have gotten in the way or pay attention to the things that have gotten in the way.”
“It’s important to acknowledge the anniversary of October 7 over the High Holidays, but there needs to be balance,” Rabbi said. “It can’t just be about that. The community is different. This is unprecedented for most people who are alive—an unprecedented year in Jewish history in our lifetime. And people are still going about their lives; people have the same challenges; people are still getting sick or having crises or celebrating life, so we still honor that. High Holidays should be the time it always is.”
As the new year arrives, Rabbi Morris is reflecting on hope and what he learned on his trip. “Hope was one of the themes [of the MEJDI trip]—whether there was lack of or having it,” he said. “Given the awfulness of what was happening then and what is happening now, as far as people we spoke to, there was a spectrum. Some people said no; hope was something they couldn’t afford or believe in because of how much despair they felt.”
When asked if he had hope for the future, Rabbi paused before tentatively beginning his response, becoming more assured as he discussed his viewpoint.
“I guess I do have hope,” Rabbi said. “But hope is not an idea; it’s an action. It’s not just a feeling, there’s a doing piece. It’s the way you engage in the world that cultivates hope and moving forward.”
He concluded, “It’s pollyannish to think that tomorrow we are going to figure this out, but you keep going, do the work, wrestling with the mentor/coach/therapist of Torah, and try to get your standing within the chaos, get grounded and then stand up to keep going through it.”
