David McCormick, the GOP nominee for Senate in Pennsylvania, voiced his support for using the U.S. military to unilaterally strike targets deep inside Mexico as part of the war on drugs, claiming that it would help limit the transport of fentanyl.

“I’m not saying we’re going to send the 82nd Airborne Division to do a jump into Mexico,” McCormick, an army veteran and ex-hedge fund CEO, told the Associated Press. “What I’m saying is the combination of special operations and drones, I think, could eradicate the manufacturing facilities, kill the distribution networks and do a real dent in what is a terrorist activity.”

McCormick’s call for military intervention in Mexico follows similar calls from other Republicans, including former President Donald Trump and vice presidential nominee, Sen. JD Vance, R-Ohio. McCormick, who said the U.S. should not seek Mexico’s approval before launching raids on its territory, did not respond to Salon’s request for comment.

Trump already proposed attacking Mexico while he was in office, only to be shut down by administration officials. But now there’s a much larger chorus of Republicans keen on taking drastic action, ostensibly intended to curb the flow of illicit drugs. Any military action would have the potential to increase migration and have an unpredictable impact on security in Mexico.

Mexico tried similarly heavy-handed tactics on its own in the 2000s, resulting in 60,000 dead and 230,000 people displaced while the cartels remained in power.

A military operation by the U.S. to curb drug trafficking in Colombia also largely failed, at great human and material cost. But that has not stopped McCormick from citing that effort as a model to follow in Mexico.

The Republican has also explicitly argued against seeking prior approval for what would be an infringement on Mexico’s sovereignty.

“The time for negotiating with the Mexican government to get their DEA on this is gone,” McCormick told an audience in September. “We’ve got to get tough on it. And that’s what I would do.”

Former Mexican President Andrés López Obrador, in response to similar calls for a U.S. war in Mexico, said in 2022 that his government would not “permit any foreign government to intervene in our territory, much less that a government’s armed forces intervene.” A rift with Mexico, the U.S.’s largest trade partner, would likely damage both countries’ economies and put an end to cooperation on stemming the flow of migrants into the U.S.

The Senate hopeful has also said that he would like to see U.S. military assets used “selectively and thoughtfully,” but that has proven historically difficult to put in practice.

The town of Perkasie, Pennsylvania, can trace its name back to a native Lenape tribe phrase that means “the place one goes to crack nuts.” Fitting, then, that this charming town, about 40 miles north of Philadelphia, has deep industrial roots, which in the 20th century included lumber, silk, and crushed stone. The painted brick building in front of us, however, has specialized in one thing for more than three decades: repairing and restoring vintage cars, mostly of the British sporting variety.

This is not my first time in Perkasie (pronounced PUR-kuh-see), nor am I unfamiliar with Ragtops & Roadsters. I grew up near Philadelphia, frequently attending British car meets and road rallies with my father and his 1963 Morgan. In the 1990s and 2000s, Ragtops had a sterling reputation for quality mechanical and restoration work, and after hearing that the business had come into new ownership in recent years, I was curious how the shop’s legacy would endure. Car restoration is a tough business, and too often, when the founder and lifeblood of an enterprise moves on—either to another outfit, into retirement, or entirely off this mortal coil—the nuts, well, stop cracking.

Not so at Ragtops & Roadsters. A green Triumph Spitfire idles on the front entry ramp as I approach, and I am greeted by the 1500 engine’s content tapping of tappets. Wood planks, mismatched and worn to a dull gleam by a century of busy soles, line the building’s floors. It’s the only touch of nature in this otherwise mechanical orchestra; against the walls are endless tool drawers, shelving for parts and various-colored cans of fluid, all surrounding neat rows of beautiful, yet needy British sports cars. 

And beautiful they are, even mid-surgery. First to catch my eye is a fiberglass Devin-bodied Healey 100-6, with a race engine by Ken Rudd that wears his “Ruddspeed” stamp on its top end. Within feet is another Healey, a sparkling 3000, as well as a handsome Morgan on jack stands. I’m moments away from vanishing inside the open clamshell hood of a Jaguar E-Type when Sylvaine Aust, Ragtops & Roadsters’ co-owner, extends her hand in greeting. 

Aust is French, originally from Paris, and fashionably put together. She bops around the shop with me, pointing out various projects and expounding on the different owners’ stories with a somewhat intense congeniality. The history of the vehicles, she remarks, is a source of constant amazement. 

“It’s fascinating to go on these sleuthing expeditions. You can learn the history of a whole country—the technology, the industry, the people. And when one of our customers talks about their car, their eyes go wide and their face loses 20 years. We’re car people, but the clientele are what attracted us to the business.”

Sylvaine and her husband, Duncan Aust, an agricultural biotech executive with a PhD, bought Ragtops & Roadsters in 2021. The outfit was by then a well-established and respected name in Philadelphia’s British-car restoration world, thanks to the work of its founder, career mechanic Mike Engard. What started as a rented three-bay Perkasie garage in 1990 evolved into a vibrant operation known for churning out show-winning work. 

Former customers from those days praise Engard’s technical expertise and his success in building up the operation. Everyone knew he was top-notch, but it came at a steep price.

Just before the financial crisis in 2008, Engard expanded. He purchased Pollock Auto Restorations—a 30,000-square-foot restoration facility mostly dedicated to Brass Era and other early American cars—in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, 27 miles away. Engard effectively ran these two operations as separate businesses; much of his post-recession efforts went to rehabbing the aging Pollock facility as he fought to keep the flame burning at Ragtops in Perkasie.

“By 2016, we had years of backup work and a reputation for being expensive but good. I was OK with that,” Engard later told me, via phone. Around that time, however, he’d lost his enthusiasm, his original entrepreneurial spirit having diminished under the load of day-to-day management. “I started Ragtops & Roadsters because I liked working on cars, and then I spent 30 years running a business,” he said.

The current management could hardly be more of a departure. Aust, who has experience in biotech sales and a stretch running a fabric business, plus some legal training, is a font of energy. She periodically steps away from our chat to take phone calls, her voice fiery and her hands animated as she paces. She just started a racing training course, and she plans to get behind the wheel of her 1936 MG Magnette N-type replica and 1960 Kieft Formula Junior, both here on the shop floor. The latter—an aluminum-bodied Formula 3 car with Cosworth connecting rods, Koni shocks, and drum brakes—looks like a hummingbird suspended on four wheels.

Aust claims no background in auto restoration. She and her husband have owned more than 60 vintage cars, dealing with many such shops in the process, and not always with positive experiences. “Transparency is essential for the customer,” she says, hands half-raised in the air, elbows at right angles, all ten fingers splayed out as if in frustration. “Especially as a woman, people would tell me nonsense. I hated that feeling of being played.”

She and Duncan dreamed of their own place, where the customer would be fully informed and empowered to make decisions. When they saw Ragtops for sale, they jumped. “We’d managed operations before,” she says. “The deep restoration knowledge is for the techs. They’re the specialists.”

When we meet Craig Bentley, one of said specialist mechanics, the rear fender of a red MGA appears to be swallowing him whole, Jonah-style, as he tends to the car’s wheel bearings. He’s a Triumph guy at heart, but lately, Bentley says, working on several customers’ Alfa Romeos has proved alluring. “They’re usable to drive and maintain, more so than the Brits,” he explains, “but I really love anything mechanical.” 

Bentley’s tastes are eclectic—he’s a certified Audi mechanic, owns both an old Ford truck and an ’83 VW Rabbit GTI, and he is a veteran Lemons racer. “Sylvaine calls me her wise old owl, or, depending on the day, her pain in the ass.” The Bentley banner hanging on the shop wall, with its winged “B” logo, strikes me as a personal touch more than a nod to the boys back in Crewe.

As much as he loves old cars, Bentley doesn’t romanticize working on them. “People say old cars are simpler, but they’re not. On modern cars, parts fit, and electronics are sophisticated but not complicated. A vintage Jaguar has a linkage from your foot to the carburetor that could have 150 pieces.”

I wander downstairs, following the smell of oil. A transmission for a 1275-cc Mini sits on a stand, cracked open as a younger goateed tech, Eugene Toner, works on the timing gear. A common issue with replacement parts for these gearboxes, he tells me, are low-quality gears and synchros with the wrong coatings. Once the coatings wear off, the gears grind. Parts for old cars are a crapshoot these days, largely because the volume isn’t there for the manufacturer to make a profit at a price point the customer will accept.

“Whenever possible we’ll opt for a used part that we can clean up or fix, rather than roll the dice on a new part,” Toner says. The evidence for that is behind him—ceiling-high shelving packed with everything from Bugeye fenders and SU carburetors to TR7 steering wheels and MGB headlights to miscellaneous fuel pumps and brake servos. 

The floors above us creak as the two techs upstairs move about. I crane my neck upward, following the sound. “Sometimes, old pieces of leather fall out from up there,” Toner says. “This building used to stitch together major-league baseballs.” That was from 1968 until 1990; before, it had been a slot car racetrack, a Chrysler-Plymouth dealership, a silk hosiery workshop, and a storage building for a local trucking company.

This Perkasie location is where most of Ragtops & Roadsters’ powertrain, suspension, and general service work takes place. The so-called Pollock Works in Pottstown is more restoration-focused: body, paint, trim, and interior work. Engard employed eight techs, but under the Austs the staff has grown to 15. That team now manages an astonishing 72 active projects—an uncommon size and scale that Sylvaine says is advantageous, allowing Ragtops to do all of its work in-house.

***

Uniting both shops under one banner was Sylvaine Aust’s first major goal. To see the Pollock Works, we hop in the car and drive 45 minutes to Pottstown, a small city more than twice the size of Perkasie. The feel here is quite different: more aging urban infrastructure than leafy streets and horse-stable charm. We find the building—a former furniture and upholstery factory—tucked away next to a railroad bridge. Making our way around back, we arrive just in time to see staff members rolling an enormous, white Cadillac Fleetwood down from an even more enormous second-story ramp. We’ve clearly branched out from the Brit cars.

The Pollock Works is home base for Jeff Swider, Ragtops & Roadsters’ managing director since 2022. A big, tough-looking, tattooed guy, he is—like the new owners—also fresh to auto restoration. His father owned a garage for 40 years, however, and Swider is well versed in project management, having done it for a major concrete waterproofing outfit as well as a party tent rental company. His reputation around the shop is that of a numbers guy who is attentive and on top of things.

In Swider’s office, there’s a large TV screen up on the wall above his desk displaying details for several active projects. He periodically stares at it, wiping sweat from his shaved head. Swider is a volunteer firefighter, so he knows how to stay cool under pressure, and he has moonlighted as an Elvis impersonator, which means the guy can’t take himself too seriously.

“This operation, more than 70 cars across two locations, is a huge elephant to feed,” Swider says. “But we all want the same thing, which is for the cars to come out of the shop perfect. The customer should drive it home and be smiling from ear to ear.”

Getting to that place can be an arduous process, as any restorer or client knows. True restoration work is an involved affair, something that novice clients do not always fully understand. To help them, Swider holds up a car door that demonstrates each meticulous stage of the painting process—the stripping, the hand-sanding, priming, and various layers. That high number of estimated labor hours suddenly makes sense.

All the planning in the world, of course, can’t account for the unexpected. A snapped bolt or unforeseen part failure can set back timelines by weeks, and these types of diversions are unavoidable with old cars. “Our job is restoration. If we need to put a battery in and the hold-down looks corroded, we’re gonna replace it. If the wiper motor doesn’t sound right, it’s getting cleaned and properly re-installed,” Swider explains. “Our best customers understand that we’re not a basic repair shop.”

Keeping projects moving forward requires great techs, and Swider has nothing but praise for his crew. In one instance, he tells me, a customer needed an unobtainium ball joint for a rare Swallow Doretti; one of the Ragtops fabricators solved the problem by manufacturing a new one, more or less from scratch, in a couple of days. “The stuff these guys can do—I’ve never seen anything like it,” says Swider.

Finally, I make my way into the Pollock Works shop. It’s a massive, no-nonsense space, packed with more cars and tools and machines than I can count. Machine noise fights with whirring air conditioners and thrumming fans. Grids of square factory windows bathe the concrete floor in daylight.

Dorian Custodia, a Ragtop & Roadsters veteran since 1997 (unofficially since 1992, he says), is kind enough step away from the new rockers and wheel well on a BMW 2002 so we can chat. Stripping the car down, he explains, revealed all manner of rotten metal. “Had to have been in an accident at some point, suffering all kinds of nasty sins.”

Within Custodia’s reach are several tools of the trade: an all-purpose metalworking machine called a Pullmax, used for shrinking, stretching, and cutting; an old-school English wheel; a pile of heel and railroad dollies, for shaping; an incomplete wooden shaping stump that he’s been whittling away at in his spare time.

Elsewhere on the Pollock ground floor: MGs, Triumphs. A row of prewar beauties—Pierce-Arrow, maybe?—convalescing under plastic sheets. But Ragtops & Roadsters isn’t exclusively for Brits and Brass; we also spot a dusty Fox-body Mustang, a resto-modded Pontiac GTO with mirror-shine paint, and an air-cooled Porsche 911 assuming the position with its rump hoisted in the air. Some cars are here for a quick overhaul before sale, others just to get into shape to spend life as a driver. A handful will be blessed with a full concours-quality restoration, fueled by dreams of confetti and trophies; these are the projects that let Ragtops & Roadsters showcase the full scope of its skill and expertise.

What don’t I see is a wandering shop manager to keep everyone on task. That’s intentional, Swider tells me, for two reasons. First: Several of these techs have run their own shops and don’t need anybody looking over their shoulder, and a measure of autonomy gives them a sense of ownership over the job. One tech, Tim Supplee, told me that the freedom lets him “send the car out when it’s done like it’s mine.”

Second: A piece of software called Shopmonkey keeps all the proverbial trains running on time. The program lets techs document every step of their work via iPad; both management and customers can see pictures and descriptions of the restoration process, letting Ragtops stay on schedule and open up evidence-based conversations about next steps when left turns happen. Shopmonkey also gives customers a direct line to the techs, which most of them prefer. 

If a routine transmission fluid flush, for example, reveals that the car’s previous owner used the wrong type of oil and caused internal damage, the customer will be notified via email, perhaps including a photo of the old fluid shimmering with pools of yellow metal. “From there, it’s their call,” Swider says. “We’ll ask: ‘Do you want us to handle it?’ Some of these guys can fix some things themselves, so they might want to.”

Agency over those decisions also helps keep customers in charge of their budget, which is a factor for most people. Client advisor Dave Hutchison, a longtime Ragtops & Roadsters employee since the early Engard days, notes how the shop’s customers have changed over the years. “Whereas years ago we were dealing more with a lot of full restorations from clients with high discretionary income, these days it’s a lot of second- or third-generation owners looking to keep family cars alive and driving.”

Upstairs, where the paint and trim departments live, more treasures abound. A rotisserie showcases a bare ’61 Jaguar Mark II at uncommon angles. One tech sands the wing of a ’39 Packard, aiming for a perfect texture onto which paint can bond. One of the newest staff members, by far the youngest on site, is focused on the intricate work of assembling a 1964 Lincoln Continental interior. In the back of the shop I spot a lovely Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, which I’m told belongs to a schoolteacher. 

Beyond the digital check-ins afforded by Shopmonkey, customers are invited to come by the shop to see their car’s progress. And who wouldn’t love to browse the rest of the place while they’re at it? Walking around the Pollock Works (or the Perkasie shop, for that matter) is like visiting old-car heaven.

For customer Steven Sheronas, these shop visits are especially enjoyable. He loves seeing all the wonderful metal scattered about. But more than that, he feels particular gratitude to Ragtops & Roadsters’ new owners, who have completely overhauled his 1967 Chevrolet Camaro RS convertible at no additional cost to him. 

Sheronas brought his prized Camaro into Ragtops & Roadsters in 2019, prior to the ownership change. The restoration, he says, spun out of control to the tune of twice his modest budget, and he wasn’t pleased with the direction and quality of the work. When Aust and Swider saw an opportunity to win back Sheronas’ business, they decided to take over the project on a full-warranty basis. 

Displayed on Swider’s office TV I saw the number of labor hours the Camaro has since received: 1990.2. At a shop rate of $135 per hour, that’s about $140,000 alone, leaving aside parts. The work has included an LS3 crate V-8, FiTech injection, new wiring, a repaired convertible top, new fuel system components, and a Currie rear end.

“The thing that really impressed me is how Jeff and Sylvaine made the decision to invest so much time, money, and goodwill into getting the project done the way I wanted it from the get-go,” says Sheronas. “They went through the whole car with a fine-toothed comb, and I didn’t pay a cent more. It’s a testament to the kind of people they are and the kind of business they want to run.” Ragtops & Roadsters has since taken on four other warranty projects. 

Three years into its new era, the business is as busy as ever. Aust and Swider may be new to the restoration world, but they’re quick studies, and their outsider perspectives seem to be paying off. “We are doing this for history, preservation, and enjoyment,” Aust says. “It is about passion—ours and the customer’s.” In a nutshell, Ragtops & Roadsters is in good hands.

Jewish political organizations are flooding Pennsylvania airwaves with millions of dollars worth of campaign advertisements appealing to the pathos of Jewish voters at a critical juncture in both American politics and American Jewish life. 

According to the American Jewish Population Project from Brandeis University, Pennsylvania is home to approximately 299,000 Jewish adults, comprising about three percent of the state’s electorate. Pennsylvania is worth 20 electoral votes and was won narrowly by former President Donald Trump (+.07%) in 2016 and by President Biden (+1.2%) in 2020.

The Jewish Democratic Council of America plans to spend about $300k on advertising across Pennsylvania, a spokesperson told The Jerusalem Post. Their ads cast Trump as a fascist and seek to prove Vice President Kamala Harris’s strong support of Israel and championing of American Jewish values. 

A Republican Jewish Coalition spokesperson said the group’s Victory Fund is spending “several million” on advertising in Pennsylvania alone as part of a $15m battleground state campaign push, the largest amount spent during an election in the organization’s history. RJC’s ads portray Harris as an empathetic member of the far-left “squad” who is against Israel and is supportive of the anti-Israel protests on college campuses. 

Though on the Days of Awe, when Jewish Pennsylvanians are tuning into their clergy, and not commercials, what are the messages they’ll be receiving? 

The Post spoke with seven Pennsylvania rabbis from critical electorate counties on their approach to writing their sermons this year, and if politics has a place on the pulpit. 

‘Not the place to discuss personal political views’

Congregation Mikveh Israel is the oldest synagogue in Philadelphia and is the oldest continuous synagogue in the US, with its establishment dating before the Revolutionary War in 1740. 

The Orthodox congregation’s first building was built in 1782. 

Its current rabbi, Yosef Zarnighian, will not be addressing the election during his sermons as he said the synagogue is not the place for him to discuss his personal political views.  

“People come to Congregation Mikveh Israel because they’re looking to worship God in the tradition of our ancestors, going back to the period even before the expulsion of Spain,” he said. 

Now that’s not to say that the election doesn’t matter, Zarnighian added, noting Mikveh Israel is the only congregation to send every sitting president a congratulatory letter offering to work together on issues of common interests. 

The City of Philadelphia overwhelmingly voted Democratic in both 2016 and 2020. 

In his sermons, Zarnighian will address the same theme he does every year: Teshuvah, or repentance. 

Every year, Zarnighian applies Teshuvah to contemporary events. 

“We have to ask ourselves every year, what is my repentance going to mean this year? What am I repenting for this year, that I did not improve on the year prior?” he said. 

This year, Zarnighian will address Oct. 7. He also feels it’s especially important to focus on the attacks from Iran, being Iranian himself. 

The lingering effects of the Islamic Revolution in 1979 is something Zarnighian said his family went through, and he’s experiencing the current events on a deeper level. 

“We’re going to be addressing those topics and tying them into repentance,” Zarnighian said. “What is it that we could do on a personal level, on a religious level and also on a political level?”

That could mean going to volunteer in Israel, which Zarnighian said many of his congregants have done over the past year. 

Zarnighian said encouraging congregants to volunteer in Israel has nothing to do with politics. 

“This same nation of Israel that’s under attack now,” he said. “Is the same one that the Jewish people have been praying about and have been wishing for well-being and prosperity for since the days of our forefathers.”

‘What would still matter to Judaism in 10 or 20 years from now?’

Rabbi Abe Friedman of Temple Beth Zion-Beth Israel, a conservative congregation located in Center City Philadelphia, said when people express discomfort with politics and shul, he thinks they’re actually uncomfortable with partisanship and shul. 

He described the Torah as inherently political, as it presents clear ideas on how a society should be organized. 

As a rabbi, Friedman said it’s been vital for him to make the distinction if what he’s saying is political or partisan. 

Friedman, who delivers the sermon on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, will speak about God’s essential characteristic of seeing and paying attention to the ignored people. 

There’s a really clear election message in there, Friedman said, even though the election doesn’t come up anywhere in his D’var Torah. 

“What is this election about, if it’s not about who we’re willing to put in the center of the frame, who we’re willing to say is the goal population and who is the tangential population?” he said. 

A question Friedman said he asks himself often, but especially at the High Holidays, is what could he say that would still matter to Judaism in 10 or 20 years from now. 

“The candidates on this year’s ballot are not going to be on the ballot in 25 years, and the exact issues that society faces are not going to be the exact issues that society is facing in 25 years,” he said. “These human questions of loneliness, connection, relationships and how we make sense of cruelty, tragedy and suffering in the world, those questions aren’t going to go away.”

What is there for him to say about the election, or October 7, Israel and Palestine, he asked, that is so rooted in Torah and tradition, that the questions and answers will still be worth talking about a generation from now?

Some congregants want their rabbi to tell them how to make sense of the current climate, though Friedman thinks congregants need their rabbi to “teach something that is true and essential about being Jewish, and human, and in that people can begin to make sense of a world that doesn’t really make sense.”

‘You can be a good Jew voting for either party’

The message Rabbi Peter Rigler will convey in his sermons speaks more about the current climate of Judaism in politics. 

Rigler acknowledged the political significance of Delaware County, home to his synagogue Temple Sholom in Broomall. 

Biden and Harris won Delaware County in 2020 by about 87,000 votes. Democrats won the country by about 64,000 votes in 2020. 

While Rigler’s focus on politics will be covert, as he’ll just allude to candidates, his premise is transparent. 

In one sermon, Rigler will say when it comes to antisemitism and what’s happening in Israel, American Jews cannot allow themselves to fall into the trap being set of having to go with one political party or the other as a way of showing their allegiance to Judaism. 

“That binary choice is not necessary,” he said. “What I’m stressing is that you can be a good Jew voting for either party. Your love of Israel does not need to drive you towards one party or the other.”

Rigler will also spend one of his sermons encouraging his congregants to use the power they have, which is showing up at the polls and voting. 

Temple Shalom is part of a broader voter registration effort in conjunction with Reform congregations across Pennsylvania through the Religious Action Center. 

Rigler added he’s really just speaking with messages of hope this year, and finding hope on the other side of the election. 

“I am definitely talking about how we as a people have found hope before, and this is a very dark, difficult moment. I think that’s why, perhaps, I’m straying away from some of the larger political things,” he said. “I think people are really in pain, and I sense that, and they don’t need me to bring up what the pain is. They need to be thinking about where, in our tradition, we can find comfort.”

‘We certainly can be helpful in solving the problems’

Rabbi David Ostrich of Congregation Brit Shalom in State College is also turning toward tradition. 

Centre County, home of State College and Penn State University, sits at the halfway point between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh. 

The Democrats won Centre County by a mere 433 votes in 2016. The margins widened in 2020 with Democrats earning about 4,000 more votes than Republicans. 

Ostrich has always been aware that his congregants have different political philosophies and identify with different political parties, so he said it seems inappropriate for him to try and tell them what to do. 

Ostrich has always chosen to teach about moral positions and the guiding principles of Judaism, like being concerned about the poor. 

“If the Democrats have one attitude about how to help the poor, the Republicans have a different attitude. But what’s important is that we remember to help the poor,” he explained. 

Ostrich’s approach this year has been to comment on certain issues, but not to endorse any candidates. 

His goal since Oct. 7 has been to help his congregants think through and clarify their thoughts on the difficult situations both in Israel and at home. 

From the Bimah these High Holidays, Ostrich will address personal piety, and what he called “expanding the dimensions of responsibility.”

“There’s certain sections of the Talmud that talk about this, that we are responsible for others,” he said. “We may not be responsible for problems, but we certainly can be helpful in solving the problems.”

‘Never understood strange need to play pundit’

Daniel Yolkut, Rabbi of Congregation Poale Zedeck, an Orthodox synagogue in Pittsburgh, will not be addressing politics from the Bimah, though he knows there are rabbis who talk about politics on the most significant religious days of the year. 

Allegheny County, where Pittsburgh is located, voted for Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine in 2016 by almost 108,000 more votes than Trump. Biden and Harris won about 148,000 more votes in 2020 than Trump and Pence. 

“The idea that I would abuse that time for my personal political opinions about things that are debatable, I have really important things to talk about that matter to people’s lives on a much more fundamental and real-time level,” Yolkut said. “I never understood this strange need to play pundit.”

Yolkut will use his sermons to talk about issues of hope and faith, particularly he said when people have invested so much energy this past year praying for Israel and feeling connected on how to counter this sense of desperation. 

Theologically, Yolkut said, that means understanding the idea of the point of prayers and seeing the value in other Jews.

‘My sermons will speak comfort to anxieties’

Rabbi Aaron Meyer, another Pittsburgh rabbi who serves the reform synagogue Temple Emanuel, said he’s skeptical that there are undecided voters at this point in the election cycle, and he’s even more certain his words would not sway voters’ opinion. 

“In place of political commentary or airing concerns that are already oversaturating the airwaves here in Allegheny County, my sermons will speak comfort to the anxieties and concerns all Jews feel in America post October 7 and address the need to prioritize frayed relationships over ardently-held but unconvincing personal ideologies,” Meyer said over email. 

“Continuing to die upon ideological hills already strewn with the bodies of others who have died in vain only alienates others rather than changing their hearts and minds,” he added. 

‘Telling people who to vote for is not what we do in a synagogue’

Rabbi Shoshanah Tornberg of Keneseth Israel in Allentown told The Post she’s done more work preparing for her sermons this year than any other year. 

In Lehigh County, home of Allentown, Hillary Clinton won about 8,000 more votes than former President Donald Trump in the 2016 election. In the 2020 contest, President Biden and Vice President Harris earned approximately 14,000 more votes than Trump.  

Tornberg is cognizant of her Reform congregation’s political diversity, and she’s delicately trying to thread the needle between politics and the pulpit. Though she also doesn’t want to be the rabbi that just says the safe thing when there’s something really important her community needs to hear and talk about.

From the Bimah this Rosh Hashanah, Tornberg will address how the Jewish community is facing several crashes of the narrative that has held together its sense of meaning and its values.

“Regardless of your vote on Nov. 5, that fracturing of our story as Jews, our story as Jews in America and our story as Jews who care about Israel is really upending how we understand ourselves,” she said. 

Tornberg feels like it’s a rabbi’s job on the Days of Awe to give voice to “how we are progressing through human history and through the choices that we make as a community and as a world.”

Everyone, no matter the distance in political opinion between the right and the left, feels like the ground underneath them is giving away, she said. 

Tornberg will also talk about the act of protesting or speaking out against injustice as important Jewish values. 

However, telling people who to vote for is not what we do in a synagogue, she said. 

“There’s such a richness of challenges and crises that we need to address. Each person’s coming with a spiritual package of who they are and what they need,” she said. “I’m just trying to bring in people’s personal experience into what we as a community, and as humanity, can be doing to push forward this project.”

The more accurately Tornberg threads that needle between politics and the pulpit, she said, the more people are going to be able to truly hear her, as it’s not just about saying something controversial to rile congregants on purpose.

“It’s about trying to get people to understand the core of the spiritual, religious and moral message in language that will touch how they are going to live,” Tornberg said. “No matter which direction they come from.”