The U.S. Supreme Court hears arguments in Trump v. CASA, Inc. (24A884) on May 15, 2025.

At issue is efforts by President Donald Trump and his administration to eliminate birthright citizenship in the United States.

The case is consolidated with Trump v. Washington (24A885) and Trump v. New Jersey (24A886).

D. John Sauer / Department of Justice [Rebuttal]

D. John Sauer / Department of Justice

Kelsi B. Corkran / Private Parties

¡La ciudadanía por nacimiento está en la mira!
Trump quiere borrar la Enmienda 14 con un plumazo... pero no contaba con nuestra memoria histórica 🧠 y la fuerza legal de Wong Kim Ark.
¿Puede un decreto presidencial pisotear 150 años de derecho constitucional?
Spoiler: ¡NO!

🔥 Escúchalo en #ElChupacast:
“Nacidos aquí, ciudadanos siempre.”

06302025 LA 14 ENMIENDA NO SE TOCA

awesome instrumental with attitude

A song about addictions:

[Verse 1 – Toxic Online]
Timeline tyrants with the tap-sword, slash for dopamine,
Dogpile doctrine, outrage auction, algorithm’s golden spleen.
Click-cult catechisms...“ratio’d,” “wrecked”...that rolling guillotine,
Empathy embargoed, bots applaud the cruelest in-between.
Threadbare truth in threads of lies, sewn tight with spiteful stitches,
Influencer incense...smoke and mirrors, clouding wicked wishes.
Virality’s a virus, whisper-weapon, weaponized at scale,
Echo-chambers echo shame, then sell you shame in retail.
Screens glow like censers, pixels hiss...incitement in the mist,
Paranoia pistons pump, the platform profits off your fist.
We meme the meek, we farm the weak, we doomscroll fear for fun,
Trolls patrol patrols of souls until compassion comes undone.
I watched the world go wildfire-hot in comment section spark,
And learned a heart can decompose inside a box that calls itself a “park.”

[Verse 2 – Toxic Church]
Sanctuary stagecraft, brand-new saints in branded tees,
Handshake high-tier, back-row ghosted, tithe their dignity.
Gossip as a gospel, prayer chain twisted into noose,
Mercy meter set to zero, holiness reduced to juice.
Pharisee performance...clean chalice, dirty springs,
Politics in pulpits...kingdom co-opted for lesser kings.
Neon-risen billboards, cross as logo, grace on lease,
While least-of-these are least invited to the table-piece.
Hymns hum harmony, but harm hums in the hallway hush,
Where prodigals are measured by attendance and a proper hush.
I’ve seen a sheep get cut by shears that never learned to heal,
Saw sinners turned to “projects” for a post and not a meal.
If Jesus flipped those tables, would we cancel Him for mess?
Or call it “bad for optics” while we monetize the bless?
This isn’t hate...it’s hospice care for hearts our slogans break,
The truth is antiseptic; let it cleanse the spoiled cake.

[Verse 3 – Toxic Family]
Dinner plates like landmines...eye-rolls, silent detonations,
History hoarded, weaponized, inheritance of accusations.
Apologies on credit, pay with interest made of pride,
Hugs that feel like handcuffs, promises that split the sides.
Gaslights flicker, kitchen’s colder than the winter in the walls,
Name-calling in code...“just jokes”...but the echo never falls.
Favorites crowned, scapegoats drowned, we learn to live in fables,
Call it love, but it’s a ledger...debts recorded under tables.
Cycles spin...darling daggers, sugar daggers, brittle charm,
Boundaries seen as treason, or as proof you mean them harm.
And I was both the wounded and the wounder in the war,
I brought my broken compass to the ones I said I’d care for.

[Verse 4 – Hope / Jesus’ Love]
Then Love walked in unarmored, with a scar-stitched, open palm,
A whisper made of thunder: “Peace, be still”...and then the calm.
Not a hashtag holiness, not optics for applause,
But nails that paid my ransom and a mercy without clause.
He knelt beside the rubble I had labeled “who I am,”
He sifted out the shards and spelled my name without the sham.
Beatitudes for bruises, living water for the drought,
A yoke that fits like freedom, cast the condemnation out.
He set a table, poured a cup, invited enemies,
Said, “Leave your swords; bring open hearts and bring your injuries.”
He taught me how to log off rage and log into the real,
How truth with love is surgery, and wounds with grace can heal.
Now church becomes a refuge, not a showroom, not a brand...
A triage for the tired where the least can take His hand.
Family learns repentance as a fluent, daily tongue,
We break the cycles at the cross; the future starts among
The ones we used to other...now we call ‘em neighbor, kin;
We build a house of light with all the bricks we once threw in.

TOXIC

[Verse 1]
Clatter of sabers in pews...news crews cue the halo spin,
Label the table of truth as “treason,” they staple sin.
Paper-thin faith with a flag stitched in, grafted on grace like a plastic grin,
Asking Him, “Sanction my fences,” when gospel says, “Gather them, let ’em in.”
Massive grin, masks and hymns, cash in tins...Mammon in sacristy;
Passing the plate to the palace while pallets of rations lack dignity.
“Blessed are meek” gets muted when market moods demand dividends;
Citizens sip a cinnamon spin, while venom invents their dividends.
I’m flipping the diction like benches in temples...rhyme as a remnant revolt;
Not militant, but vigilant...pry the lie from the cult of control.
No idol patrols, no rifle patrols in the soul’s cathedral aisle;
Our creed isn’t greed...plant seed, meet need, bleed speed to reconcile.
Beatitudes blaze like braille for the blind...the signs are tactile truth;
If power preys, then praise is a cage; if love’s alive, it cracks the roof.
Church of the new millennium’s medicine...mercy is militant tenderness;
Heaven is present in evidence: strangers embraced, not fenced as a threat to us.

[Hook]
No crowns for conquerors, only towels and basins,
No thrones for oligarchs inside sacred spaces.
If faith is a fortress, the poor can’t face it;
If love is the law, then the law must grace it.
We tear down the altars of nation-as-deity,
Break bread with the broken, betray false divinity.
Truth isn’t partisan...truth is proximity:
Hold the least close and the King shows His dignity.

[Verse 2]
Pseudo-prophets funnel fear into funnels of funding and power,
Thunder and gunmetal prayers, but the Son settles storms by a flower.
Hour by hour, the algorithm baptizes bias in bite-size clips;
Whitewashed tombs with like-count perfume...hype-house doom in righteous drips.
Pedigree pageants of purity nagging the widow’s mite;
Politic pulpits that weaponize scripture and privatize living light.
Listen...the mission’s not tribal admission to kingdoms of gated lawns;
It’s tables of fishes and loaves, it’s coats when the night is raw.
Make peace? That’s treason to tyrants who diet on deified flags;
We kneel to a suffering King, not emperors dressing in drag.
If borders define your belonging, your gospel is smaller than God;
We cross every line with a lifeline...neighbor is name, not a nod.
Bitter rhetoric fizzles when literal miracles multiply meals;
Give up the myth of dominion...domesticate steel into yield.
Faith is a furnace for fear, refine it to courage and care;
If your revival’s survival of strongest, the Spirit is not in the air.

[Verse 3]
Call me a pacifist pugilist...punchlines pummel the principalities;
Uppercut comfort, confront the corrupt, love’s knuckles in legalities.
Rhythm and remedy, liturgy’s energy...centuries crush in a bar,
Wherever a child gets a blanket and meal, that’s the flag that we are.
I’m threading a needle through steeples, unseating deceitfully seated elites;
The Kingdom advances by kindness...no boots on throats, but sandals on streets.
If truth gets censored by sponsors, then prophets repaint the wall;
Graffiti of grace on the gate...“Let every lost be found and called.”
Cathedrals collapse if they balance on violence...stone can’t shoulder lies;
The only foundation unshaken is love cruciform and alive.
So sing it in 4/4 fury, sermon in snare and kick:
No nation can own salvation...the cross already did.

KING SHOWS HIS DIGNITY

...COMING SOON
Hook
Burn the crown, don’t bow down,
Tear the tyrant’s temple down,
Every voice becomes the sound,
Freedom’s fire is battleground.

Verse 1
Built from the rubble, I rumble with iron lungs,
Every syllable’s a bullet, every beat is a gun,
They legislate hate, then parade it as law,
But the mask always cracks when the people see raw,
I’m the fracture in the marble, crack in the seal,
Truth bleeds through the lies they can’t conceal,
From the factory floor to the alley at night,
We forge revolution in the sparks of the fight.

Hook
Burn the crown, don’t bow down,
Tear the tyrant’s temple down,
Every voice becomes the sound,
Freedom’s fire is battleground.

Verse 2
They monetize fear, disguise it as order,
Draw red lines, then profit off borders,
But I cross every line with a pen like a blade,
Every rhyme is a riot, every song’s an arcade,
You can’t pacify rage when the masses awake,
You can’t silence the storm when the levees all break,
So I lace up my lines like boots in the street,
Every verse is resistance, every bar is concrete.

Hook (Reprise)
Burn the crown, don’t bow down,
Tear the tyrant’s temple down,
Every voice becomes the sound,
Freedom’s fire is battleground.

Bridge
Wake up, no waiting, the system is breaking,
The power we’re taking, no time for debating,
No kings, no cages, no thrones to defend,
If justice is silence, then silence must end.

Tag (End)
Crown in ashes.
People rise.

BURN THE CROWN

Ayla listens to the stars in this ethereal, mid-tempo track that blends punk edge with celestial longing. Starborn is not a declaration—it’s a reception. A moment of stillness where the sky speaks and Ayla hears.
The instrumentation is spacious and shimmering: ambient guitar textures, soft synth pulses, and a rhythm that breathes like night wind. Her vocals are reverent and restrained, glowing with emotional clarity and mythic depth.
This track is for the ones who feel the pull of something vast and ancient. For those who know their name was written in the sky long before they spoke it aloud.
She doesn’t claim the stars. She communes with them.

Starborn

Welcome to the Covenant & Conversation series, Rabbi Sacks’ commentary pieces on the weekly Torah portion, exploring ideas and sharing inspiration from the Torah readings of the week.

This audio on Toldot was recorded by Rabbi Sacks in 2014. Follow along here: https://rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/toldot/jacob-right-take-esaus-blessing/

You can also and download this week's featured essay, and all translations, here: https://rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/toldot/between-prophecy-oracle/

For intergenerational discussion on the weekly Parsha, a new FAMILY EDITION is now also available: https://rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation-family-edition/toldot/between-prophecy-oracle/
________________________

For more articles, videos, and other material from Rabbi Sacks, please visit www.RabbiSacks.org and follow @RabbiSacks.

The Rabbi Sacks Legacy continues to share weekly inspiration from Rabbi Sacks.

With thanks to the Schimmel Family for their generous sponsorship of Covenant & Conversation, dedicated in loving memory of Harry (Chaim) Schimmel.

Was Jacob Right To Take Esau's Blessing? (Rabbi Sacks on Toldot)

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Follow the audio shiurim, lectures and speeches of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, global religious leader, philosopher, author of over 30 books and moral voice for our time. Rabbi Sacks served as Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth between September 1991 and September 2013. A full biography - together with an extensive online archive of Rabbi Sacks' work - is available at www.rabbisacks.org or you can follow him on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram @rabbisacks.

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