RabbiDannyMoss

Rabbi's Column - December 2024

**Warning - grisly details of the REAL Chanukah story below**

Dear Friends,

Despite what you may have heard, the Chanukah story is really not for kids.

It is tempting to force history into neat little moral packages. For Jewish immigrants to the United States, Chanukah became a tale of liberty — religious freedom hard-won by the righteous Maccabees. Don’t get me wrong, there are good reasons to identify with that aspect of the story. But that is not the whole story. The fuller version includes a mix of political intrigue, sectarian infighting, and bloody betrayals. For instance, Judah Maccabee’s successor Simon was murdered by his son-in-law in a power grab. Later, Aristobulus I, the first Hasmonean/Maccabee to declare himself king, did so by imprisoning and starving his mother. His successor, Alexander Yannai, sparked a civil war with the Jewish sect called the Pharisees. In an especially dark turn, he ordered the crucifixion of 800 of his Jewish political rivals.

As you can see, the Maccabees were not messiahs. The sectarian infighting, in particular, foreshadowed bitter Jewish divisions that would lead to the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple by the Romans 200 years or so later, leading the Talmud to attribute the dissolution of the great Jewish commonwealth to sinat chinam — reckless hatred. (Yoma 9b)

The real story of the Maccabees, then, is both a reflection on hard-fought freedom and a cautionary tale against the corrosive effects of power. The victim had prevailed over the tyrant — hooray! But now what? Unfortunately, that ‘now what’ for the powerless newly grasping power, so often leads down a dark road.

I’m pulling back this particular curtain to invite reflection on how we think of history. Instead of viewing it in black and white terms — replete with heroes and villains, victims and oppressors — what would it look like to view history as a dialectic? Our stories contain beautiful kernels of light, but also warnings of the abuses of power and the excesses of ethnic pride. There are profound lessons to learn from real history — lessons that complement and complicate the beautiful miracle of the oil that burned for eight days. When we embrace our history and ourselves with honest reflection, then, we stand to learn and grow the most.

This dilemma certainly lends perspective to the challenges of divisive times. It also makes me feel so very lucky to live in the United States, a country conceived to end tyranny and political instability forever. It is so easy to take for granted concepts like rights, representative government, and checks and balances. It is easy to forget just how unusual these ideas are — not just in the scope of human history, but in the modern world, too.

And what can we learn from the real Chanukah story, today? We all need to be a part of democracy. No matter who is in the white house we must protect it. Whereas the Maccabees were soldiers of war, we are all, to paraphrase the great Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin, soldiers for peace. And as soldiers for peace, we cannot tolerate the winnowing of democracy any more than Judah stood by when the tolerant Syrian- Greeks began to persecute Jews.

To learn more about the real story behind the holiday, I invite you to a class I am teaching on Sunday, December 15th at 11 AM. I am calling it From Despair to Triumph: The Maccabee in Ancient History and Modern Judaism. Together we will examine how the famous story of Judah and his brothers has migrated, evolved, and informed Jewish self-understanding in present-day America and Israel. Please email Caroline (office@tbtshoreline.org) to sign up.

While we light our Chanukiot (Chanukah menorahs) this year, let us not elide the darker aspects of our history. They remind us of the dangers we may yet avoid.

May this Chanukah be built with light and vigilance. Where the Macabees fought military battles, let us continue to fight peacefully for a better America and a vibrant democracy.

Chag Urim Sameach (Happy Festival of Lights),
Rabbi Moss

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

Rabbi's Column - October 2024

Dear Friends,

This month marks one year since Hamas’ brutal attack on Israel. The hostages are still held captive. As I write these words, it looks as though a full-scale war may erupt in Lebanon. Susan’s friend in Israel’s north has been texting her from a bomb shelter. Any hope of a speedy resolution has long since evaporated. Israel’s suffering is great. The suffering of the Palestinians, too, is great. Our hearts break again and again as we confront the human toll and fading prospects for peace.

It pains us to see a country we love in such straits.
It pains us to witness the suffering of our Jewish siblings.
It pains us to know that our people remain implicated in a cycle of violence and reprisal that Israel’s existence was mean to end forever.

In the words of Rachel Goldberg-Polin, mother of hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin z”l:

There is a lullaby that says your mother will cry a thousand tears before you grow to be a man.
I have cried a million tears in the last 67 days.
We all have.
And I know that way over there there’s another woman who looks just like me
because we are all so very similar
and she has also been crying.
All those tears, a sea of tears,
they all taste the same…

It didn’t have to be this way. Last Rosh HaShanah, I shared my concern that Israel’s extremist government threatened its Jewish and democratic character, and obstructed the road to peace. Then came October 7th. A systemic failure of Israel’s security apparatus evolved into a war in Gaza that, over time, felt motivated more by vengeance than by any coherent strategy. Prime Minister Netanyahu has clashed publicly with his own defense minister, Yoav Gallant, over that very point. The centrist MK Benny Gantz resigned from the war cabinet earlier this year in protest. He claimed that Netanyahu was more interested in retaining power than reaching a planful resolution and freeing the hostages. And it’s not just Gantz: for months, hundreds of thousands of Israelis — including the families of many hostages — have protested his intransigence. Of course, none of this comes as a surprise: for years, Netanyahu has repeatedly, publicly, opposed peace. His support of violent extremists and immoral settlement policies in the West Bank is a stain on Israel’s conscience, and I believe it makes Jews around the world less safe. Most Israelis want Netanyahu out of office, but his coalition is still hanging on — for now.

On a different front, world Jewry has confronted an explosion of antisemitism. (Let's call it what it really is: Jew-hatred.) As you know, the numbers were already trending in the wrong direction before the war, but this year things have reached a new low.

▪ When I read the text messages exchanged among Columbia University deans;

▪ When I studied the Stanford University report detailing not merely discrete incidents, but rather a pernicious culture of hate;

▪ When I have had to console TBT students who have been taunted, followed, and harassed;

▪ When I confronted all this and more, I knew that the floodgates had burst open on both sides.

The rise of antisemitism on the left mirrors its long history on the right. Surely it cannot be out of bounds to criticize a government. But to blame Jews around the world for the actions of that government is unbridled antisemitism. To exclude people from bookstores or restaurants if they support Israel, is hatred. To hurl the word “Zionist” as an epithet, is bigotry.

Many of us feel we must walk an impossible tightrope: we support Israel’s safety, while we may have real qualms about its leaders and policies. Meanwhile the world seems to hate us no matter where we stand. To be sure, this is not a comfortable place to be.

As you might imagine, the High Holy Days will feel different this year. We need to mark this time as a community in solidarity with our Jewish siblings around the world. We need a place to process our grief. We need to draw strength from one another. Throughout the Days of Awe, you will find special sermons, music, and communal rituals. Between the holidays, we will gather at TBT to mark one year since the war began on Sunday October 6th, 12 pm. The following evening, on October 7th, there will be a ceremony of remembrance and solidarity with Israel, for the broader Jewish Community. All are welcome.

Finally, I urge you to please save the date for the weekend of December 6th-8th, when TBT will be privileged to welcome Times of Israel Senior Analyst Haviv Rettig Gur. Haviv is a remarkable thought leader. His visit to our community marks a truly special opportunity to learn and reflect. It is not every day TBT can welcome a speaker of his caliber, let alone for an entire weekend.

When I am feeling distraught, I remember that the pain of the Jewish people has often presaged new growth. Perhaps that is why Rachel Goldberg Polin concludes her poem with a hope that I would like to share with you. And so, I cite her poem again, this time in full:

All those tears, a sea of tears
they all taste the same.
Can we take them/ gather them up,
remove the salt/ and pour them over our desert of despair
and plant one tiny seed.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - September 2024

Dear Friends,

In 1727, Benjamin Franklin assembled a small group of friends to form the Leather Apron Club. They would gather weekly to discuss the great quandaries of human nature with an eye toward mutual self-improvement. Franklin's vision was to pursue character refinement through 13 virtues such as temperance, justice, and humility. He believed that personal growth was a dimension of civic responsibility and that building an ethical populace was a prerequisite for a more perfect Union.

In his autobiography, Franklin later reflected that these weekly "debates" were … "to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry after truth…" without any desire to win. In fact, Franklin describes how, wanting to keep things calm, the group rejected expressions of absolute certainty, which they "prohibited under small pecuniary penalties." [!!]

Franklin’s legacy of statesmanship and self-improvement are worthy of emulation. In anxious times like these, his idea may strike us as more than a little quaint; his rules of discourse, a tad naïve. But if we’re honest, the dramatic national political issues inflated with urgency and outrage by an apoplectic media culture do not always reflect our day-to-day lives. Rather, most of us stand to make the greatest impact locally: in our congregation, our community, and our homes.

Judaism believes (and I suspect Franklin would agree) that the most important level is to start with the person in the mirror. That’s why we have the Hebrew month of Elul, a penitential period of personal reflection leading up to the High Holy Days. That’s what the High Holy Days are all about.

Given that this is an election year, I thought I’d try something new.

On four Wednesdays after Labor Day, we will revive Benjamin Franklin’s Leather Apron Club. Together we will immerse ourselves in Franklin’s teachings — and here’s the twist — through a Jewish lens. As we enter the contemplative month of Elul and navigate a crucial election year, we will place Franklin’s virtues in conversation with the timeless wisdom of Pirkei Avot, an ancient collection of ethical wisdom from the Mishnah. Together we will discover how these principles can coalesce into our fully American, fully Jewish lives. I hope that our time together will give us renewed optimism and hope about what we can accomplish in the year ahead.

Simply RSVP to Caroline in the office (office@tbtshoreline.org) to sign up. You’ll find more information in the following pages.

Oh, and I promise there will be no pecuniary penalties.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - Summer 2024

Dear Friends,

In these days of division and strife, I’d like to share with you something that gives me tremendous hope: our young people.

Many of you joined us recently for a conversation with Yale Hillel’s executive director Uri Cohen. Uri is professional, insightful, and strategic. He reflected on this spring’s tumult on college campuses, explaining his journey to being a trusted partner and voice for Yale’s Jewish students in the highest levels of the university’s administration.

But most impressive of all were our college students (who attend schools around the country). They spoke with honesty and passion about experiencing a challenging year on campus. Each of these six young people eloquently conveyed their Jewish pride and their standing up to antisemitism. Like many Jews in their generational cohort, they do not believe that they have to choose between safety for Israelis and justice for Palestinians. This is all the more impressive given that campus culture so often screams the opposite message in their faces. Their ability to hold many difficult emotions and truths while still being confident in who they are is a total inspiration. Kol HaKavod — well done. Thank you to Kulanu for organizing this deeply meaningful evening.

Just a few days later came Shavuot, and we celebrated the confirmation of three special 10th-graders. They were called to the Torah to read the ten commandments, and each of them shared reflections on the year of learning. Unsurprisingly, they all spoke about the Israel-Hamas war, since Israel’s history has been the main focus of our year of study. They, too, conveyed their Jewish pride and their commitment to proceed into the next chapter of their lives with critical thought, conscience, and confidence and who they are. They spoke about BBYO, the international youth movement of which SALTY is part. They spoke about their special experience in our religious school. They are positioned to be leaders and builders of the Jewish future. As a rabbi, there’s nothing that makes me prouder.

By now it should be abundantly clear that we have some special young people here at TBT, and of course that is because we have special families. Families who choose to opt-in to Judaism in spite of the societal forces that challenge that decision. Families who choose learning and dialogue over the need to ‘be right.’ I love about our congregation that we can listen to one another and engage in difficult decisions with civility and curiosity. Throughout the last several years of my serving TBT, I have seen our teens model this time and time again.

My year serving as teacher to our teens is also a reminder that what’s going on in the news is not necessarily all that’s going on in the world. Headlines, whether about events in the middle east or on domestic college campuses, tend to be driven by all that is ugly. This is the most basic way that bias can creep into news coverage. But behind the headlines, there is a lot of unreported goodness and basic decency. There are the actions of rodfei shalom (Psalms 43.15) — pursuers of peace. Our young people are pursuers of peace. We should listen to them. They are leading us.

Shalom,
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - January 2024

Dear Friends,

A richly developed ethical system is one of Judaism’s gifts to the world. If you understand just two concepts, you will begin to see why.

The first concept is from the very beginning of the Torah. After creating a world full of substance and life deemed tov (deeply good, harmonious), God created human beings. But unlike every other creature, the Torah (Gen. 1.26) describes human creation with the phrase (b’tzelem Elohim) — in the image of God. This means that, among other things, all human beings are equally deserving of dignity, safety, and love. No exceptions.

The second concept comes from the Exodus story. Just a few chapters after escaping Egypt, The Israelites are already told, “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Ex. 22.20). This statement and others like it appear dozens of times throughout the Torah — The Talmud counts 36 of them — more than any other ethical requirement. Therefore, we must remember the suffering of our past, Torah commands. But if our suffering is only about us, we have missed the point. Our history of homelessness implies a special responsibility toward others in their homelessness.

Tzelem Elohim — uncompromising dignity.
Yetziat Mitzraim — uncompromising empathy.

These ideas are simple enough to understand, but difficult to apply. And that is because moral decision-making seldom demands a clear choice between right and wrong. More commonly, we must choose between right and right; or wrong and wrong.

Such is the case in this terrible ongoing war between Israel and Hamas. We all want the fighting to be over, but what of the hostages? What of Hamas’ unambiguous promise to massacre Jews again and again? On the other hand, what does it mean for Hamas to be eradicated altogether? Is that even possible? And if so, what will rise in its place? Who will lead the Palestinians out of their suffering? One can kill people, after all but not ideas. And in the wake of the untold devastation, the radicalization of another generation begins and the cycle of conflict continues. This is, after all, just what Hamas hoped would come to pass.

As I said, the choices here are between right and right; between wrong and wrong.

As students of history, and as moral agents with a stake in this conflict, it is incumbent on us to consider our responsibility. The conflict between Israel and the Palestinians has everything to do with dignity and empathy — two of our most deeply held values.

I find it excruciating to hold the full moral weight of this conflict, when our people are still held as hostages, our soldiers are dying, and the hatred toward Jews around the world skyrockets. Israel has worked in good faith for peace with the Palestinians over decades, without success. (I highly, highly encourage you to listen to Ezra Klein’s excellent recent interview with veteran US Peace Negotiator Aaron David Miller to learn more about this.)

And yet…
And yet.

There are other truths that we must acknowledge:
● An extremist, nativist Israeli government has brought Israel to this moment through its expansion of settlements, dismantling of its democratic institutions, and dehumanization of its perceived adversaries;
● Gaza is little more than an open-air prison. But even before the war, life for Palestinians was often unbearable. In the West Bank, civilians are constantly subject to checkpoints, arbitrary detentions without due process of law, violence from Jewish settlers, home demolitions, and all manner of indignities that accompany military occupation. On the Israeli side, there’s the psychological toll that such occupation takes on the (mostly 18-20-year-old) soldiers who enforce it.
● Palestinian refugees, numbering now in the millions, continue to live in camps throughout the middle east, largely abandoned by their host countries. (Except for times such as this, when international media attention makes their suffering politically exigent.)

The moral responsibility for the plight of the Palestinians is blindingly complex. But we don’t have to unravel all of that to know that, as an occupying power, Israel bears a tremendous moral responsibility. This seems unfair given the asymmetry of this conflict — one tiny Jewish state in a sea of Arab hostility — and given our history of persecution. Yet, today, the onus is on Israel to be the most ethical, the most responsible; the most sensitive of the values of Tzelem Elohim and Yetziat Mitzraim.

Anyone who thinks this conflict is one-sided is living in an alternate reality. Still, even knowing that there is pain and blame to share, I will not make excuses for supporting my people. I will fight with all of my soul for my people. That is an important part of justice in this conflict.

In Letters to My Palestinian Neighbor, Yossi Klein HaLevi writes that “a terrifying conditionality haunts our return [to Israel].” I think one of the things he means by this is that Israel’s miraculous existence demands a new responsibility on the world stage to global Jewry. And we have the reciprocal obligation.

With fervent prayers for Shalom,
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - November 2023

Dear Friends,

I was on the Guilford Green yesterday evening when I heard a man speaking English in what sounded to me like an Israeli accent. I approached his bench, and said s’licha (‘excuse me’ — this excessively polite gesture instantly outed me as an American). We began to converse.

Ech atah mistader, I asked — how are you holding up?
Ko’ev, ha lev koev, he replied — hurting. My heart hurts. Machzik ma’amad — But I’m holding on.

I nodded. I put a hand on his shoulder. As I looked at his face I noticed a cap was obscuring his kippah Hashem Itanu, he said. God is with us.
God is with us.

The response was classic Israeli. We’ve been through tough times. We’ll make it through this, too. I didn’t have to ask this man whether he had lost anyone to the violence; whether he had any family members or friends serving in the IDF, facing imminent danger. I didn’t have to ask.

As Israel fights for its very right to exist (what other country has to do this?) battles are being waged both in Israel and abroad. Here in the USA, we’re seeing the rise of hateful protests and violent antisemitism on college campuses. A recent Harvard poll found that 51% of 18-24-year-olds found Hamas’s terrorist carnage “justifiable” given the Palestinians’ grievances. A Cornell professor called Hamas’ brutality “exhilarating.” Angry protests at the Universities of Michigan and Wisconsin targeted Jews with hateful rhetoric. Neo-Nazis joined in the fray. At Cooper Union, Jewish Students were locked in to the library to protect themselves from protestors banging on the doors, screaming, “Long Live the Intifada.” There are too many others to mention here.

It used to be that college was where our young people learned to think broadly, critically. Now our elite institutions are harboring one-sided, hate-fuelled propaganda. One thing we can do is reach out to all of the college students in our lives, and see how they are doing. This week, I hosted an open Zoom space to process, grieve, and respond. I’ll schedule further sessions as is helpful.

As I write this, we are reading parashat lech lecha, the Torah Portion when Abraham and Sarah leave their home in search of our promised land. God tells them along the way, “I shall make your name great. And you shall be a blessing.” (Gen 12.2) My childhood rabbi, Rabbi Mark Shapiro z”l, loved to point out that this phrase is grammatically imperative. “Be a blessing,” says God. There’s no other option.

A Midrash on this portion has Abraham questioning God:
“Master of the Universe, You made a covenant with Noah that you would never destroy his children. Then I came along and pleased you better, so my relationship with You overrode his. Perhaps someone else will come along and please you better than me, so that his relationship with you overrides mine? God replied, “Among Noah’s children there are no righteous people who intercede for others, but among yours there will be.”

We Jews are a nation of helpers— a people who hate the suffering of all innocents, regardless of borders or life circumstances. You’re continuing to ask how to intercede, how to help. Here are three additional worthy causes you may wish to support:
Assuta, a hospital in Israel near the Gaza border
Educare IL, a non-profit organization founded in order to promote resilience and prevent violence in Israeli society, through the research and implementation of empirically-based training programs for therapists, educators and parents
New Israel Fund Emergency Safety Net Fund is working in several key areas: 1. Basic care for vulnerable groups; 2. Combating violent speech and incitement online; 3. Preventing inter-communal violence in mixed Arab and Jewish cities; and 4. Mental health and trauma counseling.

I thank you to everyone who has reached out to help, pray, and care for our siblings in Israel and here at home. Together, we will make it through this. We will be a blessing.

Shalom, Shalom, fervently and soon,
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - August 2023 High Holiday Shofar

Dear Friends,

As we enter the Hebrew month of Elul, we find ourselves once again within Judaism’s central season of renewal. This period of Jewish time revolves around two primary spiritual technologies: Cheshbon Ha-Nefesh (an accounting of our deeds and goals); and Teshuvah (repair, reconciliation, return).

That feeling of renewal courses throughout our entire community this year, too. Together our hearts turn to our beautifully renovated synagogue home as we prepare to return for the High Holy Days at TBT for the first time in several years. We will consecrate our gorgeous sanctuary and welcome back our Torah Scrolls to the ark at Selichot (September 9th). If you do not often join for this beautiful, contemplative evening service, I especially encourage you to experience it this year. Our wonderful choir will be presenting special musical pieces for the occasion, and our very own Noah Stein has composed a new piece of congregational music just for the occasion.

And there’s more homecoming to look forward to this fall! Please save the date for a festive weekend of gratitude: November 3rd and 4th. That Friday night we will say todah — thank you — to all who have helped us to arrive in our beautiful renovated space. Then on Saturday night, we will party!

Hashiveinu Adonai Eilecha V’Nashuva - Help us to turn back to you, God, and we will turn: to one another, to our beautiful synagogue home, and to a new year filled with joy and endless possibilities.

Bivracha (Blessings),
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - May 2023

Dear Temple Beth Tikvah,

By now you may have heard the news: Susan and I are expecting our first child in late May or early June. We are overjoyed, excited, and a little bit anxious to embark on this journey together. We are especially glad that we get to do that here on the Shoreline, as a part of the TBT community. I am writing this letter to you in order to share our gratitude, and also to communicate about my plans during this sacred time.

First and foremost, Susan and I feel so fortunate that the leadership of Temple Beth Tikvah helps staff and clergy prioritize family needs. Providing family leave and day-to-day support when needs arise is a true act of chesed (caring love) that recognizes that all of us are, first and foremost, human beings with obligations to those who love us. This recognition should be universal, but in this country it is not. So, modeh ani — I am all the more grateful.

Now for the plans. When the auspicious hour arrives, I will be with Susan for the arrival of the newest Moss and the transition to home. Over the summer, I will be on leave for a total of approximately eight to ten weeks. The precise timing will depend on the baby’s arrival and needs. I will be “back to work” for the remainder of the summer weeks and through the High Holy Days, in order to plan and support our team as the fall begins. While on leave, my focus will be on the needs of Susan and our new child. Therefore, I plan to be truly away from day-to-day duties, including email, phone calls, meetings, and ritual leadership. I am incredibly grateful to Dr. C, our office team, the Religious Activities Committee, volunteers, and our Rabbi Emerita and Emeritus - Rabbi Offner and Rabbi Sommer, all of whom you may encounter during this time.

In that vein, please know that TBT Clergy will be available to our members should an emergency arise. In that case, please call TBT’s main number at any time, and follow the prompts to our emergency line.

Finally, Susan and I are very excited for you to meet this new addition to our family. A formal welcome and blessing will take place at a Shabbat evening service this summer, date TBD.

The traditional Jewish greeting for an expectant parent is b’sha’ah tovah, loosely translated as ‘may it be a good and auspicious hour.’ Susan and I are so grateful for all of your love and support during this momentous time for us and our family.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - March 2023

Dear Friends,

We’ve all heard the phrase “I’m going to hang up my hat…” Well, this month I hung up my tallit! But that doesn’t mean what you might think — in fact, quite the opposite. Please allow me to explain.

In the summer of 2021, Rabbi Offner left me some very useful tools, including the tallit racks inside my study. I hadn’t really used them much, though, since we’ve been gathering for services all over the Shoreline. Ever since we’ve been meeting regularly at TBT, however, I have finally started using those tallit racks for the first time! It feels incredible to hang up my prayer shawl each week, knowing that Temple Beth Tikvah is once again ‘home base’.

In the days of the ancient Jerusalem Temple, our ancestors referred to it as Beit HaMikdash (‘The Sacred House’), or more colloquially, HaBayit, (simply, ‘The House’). After the Temple was destroyed, the family table became the new altar. The synagogue came to house the new sanctuaries of our people. Private residence and synagogue alike came to convey an abiding Jewish sense of ‘home.’

Now, every Erev Shabbat (Sabbath eve) I can come home to TBT, prepare to enter Shabbat with a moment of silence, and wrap myself in my tallit following the custom of my ancestors. These small moments help me realize that we are truly entering a new stage of readiness to re-enter our congregational home.

Has it been a while since your last building tour? We’d love to invite you back to see all of the progress! Simply refer to the details enclosed or be in touch with the office. It’s going to be a very exciting spring at Temple Beth Tikvah. I look forward to sharing many meaningful milestones with you.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss