The issue before you features four articles, all of which were first presented orally at the Society of Jewish Ethics Annual Meeting in New Orleans in January of 2017. Thus, these articles (and their authors) have faced both the scrutiny and challenging questions from conference attendees and the rigorous anonymous review process that is standard for academic journals. I have no doubt that both kinds of responses—the immediacy of conference feedback, and the extended peer review process—have contributed to bringing these articles expeditiously to publication this summer.Broadly speaking, this issue includes two distinct thematic categories. The articles of Yonatan Brafman and Randi Rashkover focus on political ethics and legal theory, and the possibilities and challenges of conceiving of Jewish ethics and social norms beyond the model of regulation provided by the state. Brafman argues, therefore, that the work of rabbis Isaac Breuer and Mordecai Kaplan dually affirms a vision of Jewish life that “decenters the state by rediscovering the normative dimension of alternative social formations.” Instead of simply shifting Judaism to the realm of private religiosity, however, Brafman argues that Breuer and Kaplan both seek a “third way” of understanding how Jewish communal norms are constructed, regulated, and maintained—one that neither simply takes the state as a model for communal organization nor reduces Judaism's complex communality to “religion” in the private, modern sense.Rashkover, for her part, takes on the “secularization theory” of Thomas Luckmann and others, focusing on Luckmann's assumption that secularism must relegate religion to a sphere not only private, but largely devoid of the ability to regulate the lives even of its most devoted adherents. By way of rejoinder, Rashkover investigates the character of Jewish law and what she argues is its particular ability to maintain its powerful normative character and ethical force in the midst of secularism.In the second set of articles, Lital Abazon and Gavi Ruit take quite a different approach, with a narrative text serving as the basis for each piece; the resulting articles demonstrate yet again the fruitfulness of ethical reasoning that proceeds from literature. Abazon rereads A. B. Yehoshua's 1963 novella Facing the Forests through the lens of psychoanalysis, drawing evocative new conclusions about the Israeli protagonist's actions and motivations, and the implications of this reading for Israeli self-understanding. Ruit, meanwhile, takes on the ancient and disturbing biblical narrative of Genesis 34, a chapter that begins with Dinah, the daughter of the patriarch Jacob and his wife, Leah, going out “to visit the women of the region” and ends with Dinah's brothers destroying all the males of the city of Shechem. For Ruit, this ancient narrative—and the ensuing rabbinic commentaries on its significance—invites serious reflection not only on the ways in which rape and women's agency are discussed and debated in rabbinic literature, but on how rabbinic anxieties about power and gender are manifest in rabbinic reasoning.Thus, these two sets of articles are ostensibly quite distinct in their methods, assumptions, and conclusions. And yet I cannot help but see important points of overlap between them. Brafman's and Rashkover's essays, after all, consider some Jewish philosophical underpinnings for the construction and sustenance of Jewish norms outside of the state structure, and Abazon's and Ruit's essays provide vivid examples of the enduring power of literature to contribute—for better or worse—to this endeavor.JJE coeditor Jonathan Crane opens his 2013 study Narratives and Jewish Bioethics with a quote from Alistair MacIntyre that calls human beings “story-telling animals” and asserts, “I can only answer the question ‘what am I to do?’ if I can ask the prior question ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’” There is no shortage now of theorization about the relationship between narrative and law, of course, but more particularly, perhaps the four articles presented here provide a fuller account of the means by which Jewish communal norms become compelling, become embedded, become troubling or stale, and require communal critique, discussion, and creativity. Such is surely part of the mission of this journal as well. We invite you to continue the conversation.