RABBI'S COLUMN - FEBRUARY 2025

רַבָּן שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן גַּמְלִיאֵל אוֹמֵר, עַל שְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים הָעוֹלָם עוֹמֵד, 

עַל הַדִּין וְעַל הָאֱמֶת וְעַל הַשָּׁלוֹם

Rabban Shimon Ben Gamliel says: The world stands on three things: on justice, and on truth and on peace. (Mishnah Avot 1.18)

Dear Friends,

I will not soon forget the poignant image of Romi Gonen, Doron Steinbrecher, and Emily Damari in their families’ embrace —  home at long last. I hope that by the time you are reading this, many more Israeli hostages have returned to their families. At the same time, our hearts are riven– we know that not every reunion will be a happy one. The emotional roller coaster of hope, elation, and dread tears at the Jewish soul. This devastating war has changed the Middle East. It has changed us.

One of the most important mitzvot is the redemption of captives. That is why our community has prayed for this moment every Shabbat since October 7th, 2023. But the deal is fragile. It can quickly be derailed by Hamas or another proxy of Iran. On the Israeli side, extremist ministers Betzalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir may torpedo the governing coalition over the deal, which they have repeatedly foiled —  and bragged about. Ben-Gvir is an acolyte of the Jewish Supremacist Meir Kehane, whose organization was banned in the US as a terrorist group, and whose followers have been convicted of gruesome crimes. Every day that such extremists are included in a governing coalition is another step toward the normalization of hatred in Israel’s society. We must oppose this with every fiber of our being. 

These are turbulent times. The global ascendency of nativist worldviews poses a danger in our country, too. No matter who is in the White House or the K’nesset, we must remain vigilant of the dangers of nativist populism. That is why I was deeply troubled to see our President pardon 1500 people involved in the January 6th attack against the US Capitol. This pardon extends to those convicted of violent crimes, including seditious conspiracy. (See this briefing from the ADL to learn more.) Surely we have not forgotten January 6th, 2021 – but has our country forgotten? These rioters destroyed property and defiled the halls of congress.  Members of congress of every political affiliation were forced to evacuate,  fearful  for their lives. Police officers died. It was a terrible day for our country —  one that I was horrified to witness and pray will never occur again.

The presidential pardon is a controversial instrument. I feel ambivalent whenever I see it deployed, whether by team “D” or team “R”. While it can rectify injustices, it seems to me that the pardon undermines the due process of law which is the bedrock of our republic. This particular pardon, which amounts to a nullification of the largest criminal investigation and prosecution in US History, broadcasts the message that law and order apply selectively; that “truth” need not correspond to reality; that political violence is acceptable; that election results can be overturned by force; and that the legislative branch serves at the pleasure of the executive. These are characteristics not of a republic, but of a banana republic. I am saddened and a little scared that we are living through such times.

Complex times do not eliminate the need for moral clarity; they demand it more urgently.

For me, one of the more disturbing moments of the recent weeks came when the President referred to the convicted criminals of January 6th, 2021 as “hostages.” He did this while actual Israeli hostages taken captive by Hamas sat on the stage with their family members behind him. Beyond the disgust I felt at this insult to all they had endured, it was yet another moment of clarity. Morality is complex, but right and wrong still matter. Truth is nuanced, but facts are still facts. People may disagree on matters of policy, but there should be no disagreement on matters of fact.  In his recent book Nexus, the modern sociologist Noah Yuval Harari explains the trend we are seeing this way:

In its more extreme versions, populism posits that there is no objective truth at all and that everyone has “their own truth,” which they wield to vanquish rivals. According to this worldview, power is the only reality…The claim to be interested in something else—like truth or justice—is nothing more than a ploy to gain power. Whenever and wherever populism succeeds in disseminating the view of information as a weapon, language itself is undermined. Nouns like “facts” and adjectives like “accurate” and “truthful” become elusive. Such words are not taken as pointing to a common objective reality. Rather, any talk of “facts” or “truth” is bound to prompt at least some people to ask, “Whose facts and whose truth are you referring to?” (pp. xxiv-xxv)

This cynical worldview is the stuff of strongmen and dictators. Populism is, unsurprisingly, highly compatible with conspiratorial thinking. And inevitably, where conspiracy theories thrive, so does the hatred of Jews. Blatant Antisemitism has come from the likes of Marjorie Taylor Greene, Nick Fuentes, and billionaire Elon Musk, who now occupies the President’s inner circle. He and a handful of other billionaires exercise tremendous power over the flow of information in our society. People of goodwill of all political persuasions must come together to fight conspiracy theories and hate from becoming the new “truth.”

Later this month, our ninth grade class will travel to Washington, DC together with teens from across our country. They will prepare diligently,will dress professionally, and engage respectfully with our legislators in the halls of Congress. They will advocate passionately for their values as young Jewish people helping to shape a More Perfect Union. They will engage, in short, in the democratic process. So must we all. Education, attention, and action—  these are required in order for democracy to work. Compassion in our politics will increase compassion in our society. As Rabban Shimon Ben Gamliel reminded us 2000 years ago, truth is one of the pillars of our world. It is up to all of us to fight for the truth to prevail.

Throughout history, we Jews have lived and died at the whim of tyrants. In America, we all have a voice in shaping the future of our country. We must never take that privilege for granted.

Shalom,

Rabbi Moss

PRESIDENT'S COLUMN - FEBRUARY 2025

Building Bridges and Strengthening Our Community

Dear Friends,

As we settle into 2025, I want to take a moment to reflect on the importance of welcoming and belonging in our synagogue. In Jewish tradition, hachnasat orchim—welcoming guests—is a cornerstone of our values. It reminds us that everyone deserves a place where they feel embraced, supported, and connected.

I’m thrilled to share that our synagogue family continues to grow. This year, we’ve welcomed many new members who are already enriching our community with their presence and energy. To our newest members: we’re so glad you’re here. Your decision to join us reflects a commitment to Jewish life, and we’re committed to ensuring you feel at home here. In the next few months we will have special events and /or services specifically for our new members. More details will follow soon.

But our work doesn’t stop at welcoming new members—we have the power to grow our community even further. I encourage all of you, whether you’ve been a part of this synagogue for decades or weeks, to invite friends, neighbors, or coworkers to experience what makes our congregation special. Whether it’s joining a Shabbat service, attending a program, or just coming for coffee and conversation, sharing our synagogue with others is one of the best ways to strengthen our community.

This February, we’ll have a beautiful opportunity to come together in celebration during Shabbat Shirah on February 7. Our fabulous soloist, Rachel Policar, will be joining TBT once again for this evening. Known as the "Shabbat of Song", this special service highlights the moment the Israelites sang with joy after crossing the "Sea of Reeds". It’s a time to reflect on freedom, gratitude, and the power of music to uplift and unite us. I hope you’ll join us—and bring a friend! It’s the perfect occasion to share the beauty of our tradition with others and to feel the strength of our voices rising together in harmony.

In addition to fostering connections close to home, we must also turn our hearts to those in need of connection and support abroad. Like so many of you, I’ve been following the situation of hostages still awaiting their return to freedom. It’s a stark reminder of the fragility of peace and the importance of standing together as a global Jewish community. We pray fervently for their safety and for the day when they can reunite with their families.

This February, let’s commit to making our synagogue an even brighter light for all who enter its doors. Let’s make space for connection and extend invitations widely. And let’s join together in action and prayer for those who long to return home. Thank you for being a vital part of our synagogue family. Together, we can continue to build bridges, strengthen bonds, and make 2025 a year of growth, unity, and hope.

B’shalom,

Josh Broder, TBT President

TEMPLE EDUCATOR'S COLUMN - FEBRUARY 2025

Which Truth Do You Mean?

There has been a lot of talk about the truth – or lack of it – in the news. People talk about “the big lie” and disagree about a variety of events of the day. Seen from various perspectives, it is hard for many to believe that so many can disagree on what seems to be the plain truth, based on what we can all see with our own eyes. These are troubling ideas that are dividing us one from the other. I encourage everyone to try and imagine perspectives different from our own and remember they are held by members of our community, even our own families. We have to figure out how to move forward together. I am not going to discuss that here though.

This is not just a current events story. I cannot remember a year when a learner – sometimes an adult, sometimes a youth – has not asked me or one of the rabbis “Are the stories in the Torah true?"

The answer to that question is another question: “What do you mean by true?” To be fair, my answer is different from the one you might get from an Orthodox teacher.

Until the mid-nineteenth century, nearly all Jewish thinkers and rabbis accepted that the Torah was written word for word, letter for letter by God – or at least dictated by God to Moses. So, the answer from the Orthodox perspective is “Yes. The Torah is true. It all happened.” There are of course many orthodoxies, not just one monolithic uniform movement. There is a fair amount of nuance that should be in that discussion. By and large, though, if the Torah is actually directly from God, then the Mitzvot are not just a good idea, they are the law.

From a Reform perspective, I suggest that there is truth and there is Truth. The first, with the lower case “t”, refers to historical accuracy. About 150 years ago, a number of biblical scholars – both Jewish and Christian – looked closely at the Hebrew text of the Torah. They noticed that in some sections, God was Elohim. In others, God was Adonai. There were several almost duplicated sections. In the midst of conversations between God and Moses, Aaron would simply appear and disappear. And the entire book of Deuteronomy seems to repeat much of Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers – although many of the commandments are stricter in the second version.

The scholars concluded that there must have been more than one – at least four – different authors involved in the writing of the five books of Moses. This was called the Documentary Hypothesis. And if humans – even if Divinely inspired – wrote the words, then the Mitzvot become more or less guidelines for behavior. And this is the core difference between Reform and Orthodoxy (although there are others). Based on this, I would suggest that the Torah is not a great source of historical accuracy. I see it as our people’s record of how we perceive our origin stories.

I will say that I believe that the Torah is filled with Truth with an upper-case “T.” It teaches us how to be Jewish. It teaches us how to embrace what we have come to call Jewish values like Kehilah (community), Kavod (respect, honor), Kedushah (holiness), Savlanut (patience) and Sovlanut (tolerance), to name five out of dozens. It teaches us that we are each created in God’s image, so we must treat one another with the same respect we have for God.

My friend and teacher Joel Lurie Grishaver once taught me that he believes that the Torah was written by humans. And they wrote exactly what God wanted them to write. So that leaves it in our hands. Coming from a human source, we each get to choose how to be Jewish, which values to embrace. Coming from God, filtered through humans, we must remember that we must not choose “none of the above” when it comes to values. We can handle the Truth.

L’shalom,

Ira J. Wise, RJE

Temple Educator

Rabbi's Column - January 2025

Dear Friends,

In the days and weeks since Haviv Rettig Gur’s visit as our Scholar-inResidence, my mind has been spinning with so many new ideas. I learned a great deal from Haviv’s visit, which I found highly educational, stimulating, and sometimes very challenging. I hope you enjoyed him as much as I did. As I reflect on all Haviv shared with us, a few points stand out. I thought I’d share my top take-aways with you, as he offered a lot of insight to bridge divides: between generational perspectives; between Israelis and diaspora Jewry; and between our current knowledge and where we all want to be. Because truly, we could be better informed (myself included)

1. Israeli Democracy endures as a function of its dialectic. In Israel, there is no distinction between the executive and legislature. Furthermore, parties with wildly divergent interests such as the Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox) UTJ and the Joint List (majority Arab parties) have sometimes even supported one another’s legislative priorities. Israel’s parties range from ultra-religious to secular; from socialist to communist. They reflect the ideological, ethnic, and religious diversity of the country as a whole. And like the proverbial “two Jews and three opinions,” the discussions on the floor of the k’nesset are often vigorous. They also serve as a sort of check on the society as a whole. Israel has no constitution or formal separation of powers as in the United States. Haviv argued that the inherent dialectic within this parliamentary system is one of Israel’s most important safeguards on democracy, as it presently stands.

2. Israelis want Israel to be moral. But first and foremost, they want their children to be safe. It is difficult for most Americans to understand the sense of existential threat that Israelis experience regularly — surrounded by falling rockets with a dearth of geographic buffers. Thank God we in the United States do not have to build bomb shelters under our kindergartens. Many Israelis, looking back at the failure of the Oslo peace process and the second Intifada, are skeptical that any Palestinian leader can be a true partner for peace. Ariel Sharon’s withdrawal from Gaza in 2005 similarly led to the armament and entrenchment of Hamas. Withdrawal from land in the absence of a peace process has only led to further bloodshed.

3. Israeli Jews don’t know much about diaspora Jews. American Jews don’t know much about Israelis. We used to have shlichim (young Israel emissaries) in our communities, to help build these bridges. We should bring that program back. We should send our kids to Israel, too. Israel should include diaspora relations among its educational priorities. And as Haviv accurately summarized, far too many American Jewish youngsters are unaware of their own story. Our Temple Educator, Ira Wise, and I, are committed to addressing this, with your partnership.

4. Israel’s Right has oftentimes fulfilled the promises of the Left. We’ve discussed this truism of Israeli politics in our Israel reading group and other classes here at TBT. Here are just a few examples:

• Prime Minister Menachem Begin, an icon of the revisionist Zionist camp, signed a peace treaty with Egypt in 1978 that returned the entirety of the Sinai Peninsula. Many in his Likud party criticized him for this, but history has vindicated the decision.

• Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, another stalwart of the right, unilaterally withdrew all Israeli settlers from Gaza. At the time, this was a popular decision, but very few would have expected Sharon to initiate it.

• As part of the Annapolis Conference of 2007, Prime Minister Ehud Olmert, another Likud leader, engaged in intensive negotiations with the Palestinians. He was willing to consider territorial concessions based around the 1967 borders. Unfortunately, these negotiations failed.

Israel’s current government is the most extreme in its history. The current Palestinian leadership is in no position to care for its own people, let alone negotiate for peace. Rather than fall into despair, it is helpful for me to remember that progress toward peace tends to come at unexpected times and in unlikely ways. Just consider the recent Abraham Accords. Normalization with Israel’s neighbors is achievable. There may even be a role for Saudi Arabia to play in the rebuilding of Gaza, as the Saudis and the Israelis inch closer toward diplomatic relations. As Jews, we pray for peace in every service, multiple times each day. We will never give up on peace.

If you didn’t have the chance to learn with Haviv last month, you can find him discussing many of the topics he addressed at TBT on these podcasts: What Matters Now or Call me Back. Finally, I want to exuberantly thank our Programming Committee leaders, Nancy Rosen, David Rosen, and Karen Rabinovici – as well as Temple Educator Ira Wise and our many dedicated volunteers – for making it such a successful weekend. It was a privilege to learn with all of you.

Shalom,

Rabbi Moss

President's Column - January 2025

As we step into January 2025, I find myself reflecting on the idea of simcha – joy. In Jewish tradition, joy is not merely a fleeting emotion; it is a profound state of being, an active practice that connects us to our faith, our heritage, and to one another. Yet in a world that often feels rushed, uncertain, and complex, finding moments of true Jewish joy can sometimes feel elusive. It is in these very moments that the synagogue has its most vital role to play.

The synagogue has always been more than just a physical space to me. It is a beit k'nesset – a house of gathering, where we come together to pray, to learn, and to share our lives. It is a beit midrash –a house of study, where we engage with our traditions, ask questions, and discover meaning. And it is a beit t’filah –a house of prayer, where we connect to something greater than ourselves. Today, as the needs of our community evolve, so too does the synagogue. It must adapt to changing times while staying true to its purpose: creating and sustaining Jewish joy.

What does Jewish joy look like in 2025? It can be found in the laughter of children at our religious school or family Shabbat dinners. It is the warmth of a congregant welcoming a newcomer. It is the shared pride of standing together during a bar or bat mitzvah singing Hinei Ma Tov in harmony. Jewish joy emerges in the small moments, in the bonds we form, and in the spiritual connection we cultivate. And it is needed now more than ever.

We are living in a time of change. Many are searching for meaning, balance, and a sense of belonging amidst the noise of daily life. Others are seeking ways to reconnect with their Jewish identity or their community. The synagogue must meet people where they are through innovative programming, inclusive spaces, and meaningful opportunities for engagement. Whether it is a Shabbat service filled with music, a community tikkun olam project, or a quiet moment of study, the synagogue can offer the spaces where joy can flourish.

In the year ahead, I encourage all of us to actively seek out Jewish joy. Attend a service, join a class, volunteer for a cause, be part of a task force or committee (we need help with both our capital campaign and our membership reimagination), or simply show up. The more you show up, the more joy you will receive, it’s that simple. The synagogue is here to welcome you, to inspire you, and to provide a home for that joy to grow.

Together, let us embrace the opportunity to create a vibrant, joyful Jewish future for ourselves, our families, and our community. May this year be one of reconnection, inspiration, and abundant joy. Let us move forward with open hearts and a renewed sense of purpose.

Josh Broder

Temple Beth Tikvah President

Temple Educator's Column - January 2025

I remember getting the same birthday card more than once. On the front was a picture of a forest of date palms. I think there was an Israeli flag somewhere in the background. It said, “In honor of your birthday, a tree has been planted in Israel.” When you open it, there is a guy in a bathrobe and sneakers, who needs a shave holding a watering can next to a little tiny sapling, and it says, “Your day to water it is Thursday.”

A trite joke for a serious purpose. The Keren Kayemet L’Yisrael – the Jewish National Fund (JNF) – was founded in 1901 to rebuild the land of our ancestors. Its leaders and supporters around the world raised funds to purchase land - currently it owns 13% of the land of Israel! They have indeed planted trees to turn the desert green. They have also built 180 dams and reservoirs to ensure access to water and established more than 1,000 parks!

Why am I talking about this now, in January? Because Tu Bishvat – the new year of the trees – is coming. Tu Bishvat is one of the several new years that we celebrate as Jews. (Rosh Hashanah – when the date changes, Simchat Torah – when we start a new year of Torah, January 1st , when we celebrate with the secular world, and the first day of the month of Nisan, just before Pesach, which the Torah calls the first month of the year).

As a religious school kid, I wondered why the New Year of the Trees fell while I was shoveling six inches of partly cloudy from my driveway in suburban Chicago. Turns out, January/ February is prime early planting season in the land of Israel. There is an expression over there that that from Pesach to Sukkot, there is no rain, and from Sukkot to Pesach the rain rarely stops. This is a country where everyone follows and talks about the water level of Lake Kinneret.

This year, Erev Tu Bishvat falls on Wednesday, February 12. That gives us time to invite YOU to plant a tree in Israel this year. We will be distributing information through the school and making it available to all to enable us to contribute to the JNF and plant a tree.

By the way, the card was not really a joke. In the picture you can see me actually planting a tree on the grounds of a middle school in South Tel Aviv ON TU BISHVAT! There was a drought that year, and very few trees were being planted. This school has a concentration on environmental studies and was granted special permission. Let’s plant a tree together. We can talk about going over there to water it soon enough!

L’ Shalom

Ira Wise

TBT Temple Educator

Rabbi's Column - December 2024

Dear Friends,

In the days and weeks since Haviv Rettig Gur’s visit as our Scholar-in-Residence, my mind has been spinning with so many new ideas. I learned a great deal from Haviv’s visit, which I found highly educational, stimulating, and sometimes very challenging. I hope you enjoyed him as much as I did.

As I reflect on all Haviv shared with us, a few points stand out. I thought

I’d share my top take-aways with you, as he offered a lot of insight to bridge

divides: between generational perspectives; between Israelis and diaspora Jewry;

and between our current knowledge and where we all want to be. Because truly, we could be better informed (myself included)!

President's Column - December 2024

Dear Friends,

In the second century BCE, the Holy Land was under the rule of the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who sought to impose Greek culture and beliefs on the people of Israel, undermining their observance of mitzvot and devotion to G d. Against incredible odds, a small group of faithful but poorly armed Jews, led by Judah the Maccabee, defeated one of the most powerful armies of the time. They drove the Greeks out, reclaimed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and rededicated it to the service of G d.

When they went to light the Temple's Menorah (the seven-branched candelabrum), they found only a single cruse of pure olive oil that had not been contaminated. Miraculously, this small amount of oil burned for eight days—enough time to prepare a new supply under the proper conditions of ritual purity. Like Passover, Hanukkah is a celebration of freedom—freedom from oppression and the ability to practice religious expression. The Hebrew word Chanukah means "dedication," commemorating the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.

The Festival of Lights, another name for Chanukah, is one of my favorite Jewish holidays. While other kids anticipated Christmas, I was eagerly preparing for Chanukah. Why? Because what’s better than freshly made latkes (with chives and scallions for extra flavor—delicious!), sufganiyot (Hebrew for doughnuts), playing dreidel with chocolate gelt as prizes, and lighting the menorah while singing traditional songs and blessings? (Ma’oz Tzur or Rock of Ages—is my personal favorite. My mom made my brother and me sing it every night of Chanukah when we were kids.) And let’s not forget the cherry on top: eight nights of presents!

Chanukah arrives each year near the winter solstice, when daylight is at its shortest. It’s a reminder that even in the darkest times, there’s always light ahead. As we enter winter and reflect on the ongoing war in Israel—now 14 months long—let us pray for light at the end of this dark tunnel. Just as the oil miraculously lasted eight nights, let us hope for a miracle: the safe release of all remaining hostages. That would truly embody the spirit of Chanukah.

I want to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to the TBT Board of Trustees, the Leadership Council, our clergy and staff, and all the amazing volunteers who dedicate themselves to our incredible community. A special thank-you goes to two remarkable lay leaders, Suzy Frisch and Andrea SanMarco. Their tireless efforts— whether supporting our staff, stepping in during crunch times, or simply always being present—are invaluable TBT wouldn’t be the same without their dedication. Thank you both!

Nes gadol haya sham —“a great miracle happened there.” These words, inscribed on the dreidel, remind us of the miracles Chanukah represents. May the light of this season inspire all of us to shine brightly, even in challenging times, and to dedicate ourselves to something greater—this extraordinary TBT community.

Happy Chanukah from my family to yours!
Josh Broder,
President, Temple Beth Tikvah

Temple Educator's Column - December 2024

The TRUE story of Chanukah

The difference between Jewish and secular calendars this year means that Religious School is not in session for Chanukah. We adapt. And that to me, is the lesson of Chanukah – and of the Jewish people for that matter. We survived nearly 2,000 years of exile and being kicked out of nearly every country and city state in Europe – not to mention the Roman empire, the Crusades, the Inquisition and the Holocaust – by adapting. We continually find ways to not simply survive, but to thrive and find new joys in living Jewishly.

I am going to share some historical accuracy with you now. Do not confuse that with Truth. Truth is what we believe in our hearts. Sometimes it is informed by historical events. Sometimes by our beliefs. If hearing something different about Chanukah will disturb you, I urge you to scroll to the next article. This is not something that you NEED to know.

Still with me? Judah and the rest of the Maccabees were real. We have lots of contemporary evidence. It is extremely unlikely, however, that any of them ever heard about a little jug of oil that burned for eight days. The first time we hear that part of the story is in the Babylonian Talmud, written 460-660 years after the actual events.

In the First Book of the Maccabees, written just four years after the war, the dedication is celebrated for eight days just as the original temple dedication under King Solomon and dedication of the tabernacle in the wilderness with Moses, Miriam and Aaron was held. And Judah declared all Jews everywhere should celebrate each year.

Forty years later, it seems that Jewish communities outside of the land of Israel were not celebrating Chanukah. So, a Second Book of Maccabees was written. “They celebrated it for eight days with rejoicing, in the manner of the Feast of Booths, remembering how not long before, during the Feast of Booths, they had been wandering in the mountains and caves like wild animals.” It seems the holiday soon gained traction in the diaspora communities after that. Still no oil though.

One hundred and ninety or so years after the original events, Flavius Josephus describes the first Chanukah. Josephus had been a Judean general in the war against Rome that resulted in the destruction of the second Temple in Jerusalem in 70 C.E. He went over to the Roman side and spent the rest of his life writing about Jewish history and customs. Historians believe that he was trying to create an image of the Jewish people in the minds of the Romans that would lead them to think we were not a threat and should leave us alone. He wrote: “Judah celebrated the festival of the restoration of the sacrifices of the temple for eight days, and omitted no form of pleasures…” A very Roman type of simcha.

Finally, Pesikta Rabbati is a collection of Midrashic tales written in the land of Israel in the 8th or 9th century CE. while the land was under Muslim rule. In it we read “When they entered the Temple, they found eight rods of iron (spears), which they hollowed out and then kindled wicks in oil which they had poured in the grooves.” This version reminds us of turning swords into plow shares – making weapons into tools of peace. A good metaphor while living under foreign rule.

So too, the Talmudic story of the oil teaches those around us that we are not looking for a fight. God made the miracle of the oil and the victory of the few over the many – not humans. We celebrate God and our faith not war.

In each case, we adapted. In each case we recast the story in a way that gives us reason to celebrate. I am not debunking the story of the oil and its miracle. I am saying we have four more facets to the jewel that is Chanukah. They are ALL our stories.

And I am sticking to them. I invite you to join me. No need to tell the young kids just yet.

L’shalom,
Ira Wise, Temple Educator

Rabbi's Column - November 2024

Dear Friends,

It’s time to vote! I hope all of us will make our voices heard at the polls.

I also realize that this election comes with no small measure of anxiety. If that’s so, perhaps we can uncover other feelings at the polls, too: hope, patriotism, and gratitude for this extraordinary and flawed place we call home.

Does that sound hard? Harder still is the family Thanksgiving Table. Uncle Leo always votes the same way, and needs everyone else to know why. Oy vey

I recently officiated a funeral for a man who was passionate about a certain side of the political aisle. On Thanksgiving he would turn on the TV and get into it with those who disagreed. But then everyone would sit down to break bread together, and they’d stop arguing. They remembered they were friends.

Let’s remember that we’re all friends.

Here’s some Torah to help with perspective: During Sukkot, our Torah Study group studied Kohelet (Ecclesiastes), the sacred book associated with the holiday. The book opens like this:

Utter futility!—said Koheleth—
Utter futility! All is futile!
What real value is there for a man
In all the gains he makes beneath the sun? 
One generation goes, another comes,
But the earth remains the same forever. 
The sun rises, and the sun sets—
And glides back to where it rises. 
Southward blowing,
Turning northward,
Ever turning blows the wind;
On its rounds the wind returns. 
All streams flow into the sea,
Yet the sea is never full;
To the place [from] which they flow
The streams flow back again. […]
Only that shall happen
Which has happened,
Only that occur
Which has occurred;
There is nothing new
Beneath the sun!

דִּבְרֵי֙ קֹהֶ֣לֶת בֶּן־דָּוִ֔ד מֶ֖לֶךְ בִּירוּשָׁלָֽ͏ִם׃

הֲבֵ֤ל הֲבָלִים֙ אָמַ֣ר קֹהֶ֔לֶת הֲבֵ֥ל הֲבָלִ֖ים הַכֹּ֥ל הָֽבֶל׃

מַה־יִּתְר֖וֹן לָֽאָדָ֑ם בְּכׇ֨ל־עֲמָל֔וֹ שֶֽׁיַּעֲמֹ֖ל תַּ֥חַת הַשָּֽׁמֶשׁ׃

דּ֤וֹר הֹלֵךְ֙ וְד֣וֹר בָּ֔א וְהָאָ֖רֶץ לְעוֹלָ֥ם עֹמָֽדֶת׃

וְזָרַ֥ח הַשֶּׁ֖מֶשׁ וּבָ֣א הַשָּׁ֑מֶשׁ וְאֶ֨ל־מְקוֹמ֔וֹ שׁוֹאֵ֛ף זוֹרֵ֥חַֽ ה֖וּא שָֽׁם׃

הוֹלֵךְ֙ אֶל־דָּר֔וֹם וְסוֹבֵ֖ב אֶל־צָפ֑וֹן סוֹבֵ֤ב ׀ סֹבֵב֙ הוֹלֵ֣ךְ הָר֔וּחַ וְעַל־סְבִיבֹתָ֖יו שָׁ֥ב הָרֽוּחַ׃

כׇּל־הַנְּחָלִים֙ הֹלְכִ֣ים אֶל־הַיָּ֔ם וְהַיָּ֖ם אֵינֶ֣נּוּ מָלֵ֑א אֶל־מְק֗וֹם שֶׁ֤הַנְּחָלִים֙ הֹֽלְכִ֔ים שָׁ֛ם הֵ֥ם שָׁבִ֖ים לָלָֽכֶת׃

כׇּל־הַדְּבָרִ֣ים יְגֵעִ֔ים לֹא־יוּכַ֥ל אִ֖ישׁ לְדַבֵּ֑ר לֹא־תִשְׂבַּ֥ע עַ֙יִן֙ לִרְא֔וֹת וְלֹא־תִמָּלֵ֥א אֹ֖זֶן מִשְּׁמֹֽעַ׃

מַה־שֶּֽׁהָיָה֙ ה֣וּא שֶׁיִּהְיֶ֔ה וּמַה־שֶּׁנַּֽעֲשָׂ֔ה ה֖וּא שֶׁיֵּעָשֶׂ֑ה וְאֵ֥ין כׇּל־חָדָ֖שׁ תַּ֥חַת הַשָּֽׁמֶשׁ!

Kohelet offers a very different philosophy than we find elsewhere in the Bible. Some might call it cynical or fatalistic. There is some truth there, but it is not, I think, pessimistic. When life is getting us down, Kohelet helps us take the long view. One empire falls, and another rises. Suffering gives way to joy — each in its season turns and returns. Life goes on. This may not give us great comfort about the worries of tomorrow, but it helps us to consider our role in the many tomorrows to come. When we are overwhelmed, Kohelet reminds us that today’s woes are but a drop in the cosmic bucket. When we feel insignificant, he reminds us that life is to be lived with intention and gratitude:

Go, eat your bread in gladness, and drink your wine in joy; for your action was long ago approved by God. Let your clothes always be freshly washed, and your head never lack ointment.
Enjoy happiness with the one you love all the fleeting days of life that have been granted to you under the sun—all your fleeting days. (9.7-9)

The great writer Isaac Babel describes the modern Jew as someone with “spectacles on his nose and autumn in his heart.” I love this turn of phrase. I love its poetic brevity. I love it because autumn is by far my favorite season, and I always have spectacles on my nose. I love our Holy Days, rich as they are with hope, honesty, unity, and the humble bow-of-the-head in the face of mortality. Autumn aligns with the Jewish condition because, for me, anyway, it underscores these truths:

We are a spiritually connected people, not just a religion;
We are a people of action first; and belief second;
We are a people of the land, not just people living in a given land; and
Autumn’s melancholy anticipates winter, but its pragmatism starts in abundance.

At this time of year I think back to a stirring essay by Adam Wilson. He likens Babel's assertion of Jewishness to the experience of a new parent: a condition “of anxiety, of omnipresent awareness of the soft spot on the infant’s skull.” 

The other side of that awareness, of course, is the beauty of new beginnings and unknown possibilities. If we can open our hearts to these mirror-image truths — both life’s discontents and its unexpected delights — we are most likely to be happier, healthier, and more resilient. That’s an attitude of abundance we can all take to our Thanksgiving Table.

All streams flow into the sea,
Yet the sea is never full;
To the place from which they flow
The streams flow back again.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss