TBTRabbi

Rabbi's Column - March 2025

DearFriends,

While I was teaching our 11th and 12th-graders last week, a man I did not recognize approached TBT’s front doors. I went to greet him and learned that he was a disabled military veteran experiencing homelessness. He had been getting by OK until, amidst the chaos in Washington, the VA stopped mailing him his monthly check. He had run out of money for food.

The same weekend, I received a message from my brother. An unknown sender demanded that, within 48 hours, he reply to an email summarizing five things he “got done” in the previous week. Around the same time, Elon Musk tweeted that ignoring the email would be tantamount to resignation. My brother, who has worked for the Justice Department since completing law school, suddenly feared for his job. And with good reason — his boss had just been fired.

Another story: my close friends Marc and Zoe live in Washington, DC. With neither warning nor explanation, Marc, who is one of the kindest human beings I know, was fired from his job at USAID. His wife Zoe, who is director of a women’s health clinic, expects a substantial cut in her funding. This will diminish her ability to care for women who have nowhere else to turn.

Recently, Musk delivered a speech while gleefully waving a chainsaw in the air. The message? That these severe cuts are part of rooting out systemic fraud in federal agencies. Lies, repeated loudly and often, quickly become true. Meanwhile, those on the receiving end of the saw blade are not corrupt bureaucrats. They are non-partisan civil servants. Many have served under several different administrations. They are inspectors and safety personnel for aviation and nuclear security. They are scientists saving lives. They are social workers caring for wounded veterans. These cuts hurt Marc, Zoe, my brother, and our local veteran. They harm the children who rely on their incomes. The savings are small, but the suffering is vast.

TBT members have already been impacted, too. If you are affected, I hope you will reach out to me. I would like to understand what you are going through. How much cutting will turn out to be legal? Will it even matter?Americans have long viewed the government with suspicion. It's part of our founding story, after all: we sought refuge from the caprice of kings. In our lifetimes, Bill Clinton proclaimed, “the era of big government is over.” Before him, Reagan told us that “government is the problem.”

But whatever we believe about the policies of the government, we must respect our system of government. Our elected officials take an oath to uphold the Constitution. Their loyalty is to our Republic, not to any one person. The Constitution’s separation of powers and checks and balances are meant to prevent monarchy. The system’s brilliance lies in its decentralization of power and tolerance of dissent. This is so critical, because we hold a variety of views!We do not agree on every issue.

But we do agree to be bound by the decisions that we make collectively. We can overturn old laws, and pass new ones. We can protest. We can engage in civil disobedience. We can even change the system itself— the constitution tells us how.But what is happening now is that a handful of people are rapidly trying to change our system of government, unconstitutionally. This poses an existential danger to our country. It is wrong. And history shows that when political chaos dominates, Jews lose.

It took the Nazis less than two months to dismantle Germany’s constitutional republic.

Historian Anne Applebaum teaches that when democracies fail, it is generally because a democratically-elected leader assaults the system of government. He commandeers agencies that serve the public. He demands fealty, and those who refuse are removed. This consolidation of power is known as “state capture.” It’s how Orbán rose to power in Hungary, Erdoğan in Turkey, and Chávez in Venezuela. It has happened on the right and the left. In the 1700s our founders feared that a leader might one day threaten our Republic. Jefferson, Madison, and others were inspired by the great philosopher John Locke. In his Second Treatise on Government, Locke writes that when a leader disregards legal order, he gives up legitimacy and the people are justified in treating him as a “thief and a robber:”

“[W]hosoever in authority exceeds the power given him by the law and makes use of the force he has under his command…ceases in that to be a magistrate; and, acting without authority, may be opposed, as any other man, who by force invades the right of another,” Presidential historian Stephen Knott has written that George Washington could have been our first king. He could have stood before the Continental Army, and with a nod of his head, gained a throne: “A lesser man might have been tempted to… pave the way for despotism.” But Washington made a different choice: he went home. That was a formative moment for American Democracy, and it’s one of the reasons Washington is celebrated as a hero.

As Jews, we have lived and died at the whims of tyrants. The Purim Story, which we will retell later this month, is a cautionary tale about how swiftly the tides can turn when we are not prepared to fight evil. I believe it is our responsibility as patriots to actively oppose every antidemocratic act that threatens our Republic. Here are a few ways to start:

●Regularly call our members of congress[(202) 224-3121] to express our views and demand accountability,especially if and when the administration defies a court order.

●Protect voting rights. We need to keep fighting for free and fair elections. We can volunteer locally. We canoppose the SAVE Act (H.R. 22) when it comes up for a vote. This piece of legislation would depress the voteand disenfranchise millions of voters, including 69 million married women who changed their last name.

●Support institutions that function as true checks on executive power. These include high-quality journalistic outlets, federal courts and judges, and our elected officials.

There are certain moments in a lifetime when we feel the weight of history on our shoulders. For me, this is one of them. Good people may disagree on policy, but we should unite in protecting democracy. Some of you will surely see this message as partisan. I promise you— it is not. I would speak out if any president was taking such dangerous antidemocratic actions— Democrat, Republican, Independent, or Martian.

Until recently, both parties supported USAID, the VA, and Medicaid. Until recently, both parties respected our democracy. I don’t care much about which party is right or wrong right now. I care that my son will grow up in a free country. Let’s work together to protect that freedom.

Shalom,
Rabbi Moss

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


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)!

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 - June 2024

Dear Friends,

I invite all my B'nai Mitzvah students to ask me a "big question" that would be hard for ChatGPT to answer. Recently, Levi A. asked, "What do you think would happen if the Jews were to lose Israel?" This is a sad, difficult, and very important question. I told Levi as much, and so I'm sharing a few reflections here, too.

Over its 76-year history, Israel has faced numerous threats. Every war triggers existential fears. Israel's existence has never been assured, which is why it has built one of the strongest armies in the world.

Israel is still a young country. If we look back 3000 years to King Solomon and the first Temple in Jerusalem, 1948 to 2024 constitutes only about 2% of Jewish history. We lost control of Israel when the Romans destroyed the Temple 2000 years ago, leading to centuries of exile.

Exile wasn't just a geographical reality; it was a profound sorrow we carried for centuries. The book of Psalms reflects this in a poem from the first exile to Babylonia: "By the Waters of Babylon/There we sat down/And we wept/As we remembered Zion….If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my hand wither…” (Psalms 137).

Later Jewish texts also reflect this yearning. One Midrash explains that when the Temple was destroyed, God went into exile too, departing Jerusalem and the presence of our people.

For almost 2000 years, Jews dreamed of returning to our homeland. This longing was embedded in daily life: in prayers for the rebuilding of Jerusalem, in facing East during prayer, in breaking a glass at weddings to recall the Temple's destruction. The land of Israel is central to Jewish history and identity.

Can you imagine if your home, livelihood, and every routine disappeared in an instant? It's hard to relate to this feeling today, which is a good thing: it shows how comfortable we have been in the United States.

At my summer camp, we had an activity on Tisha Ba’av, the saddest Jewish holiday when we mourn the destruction of the Temples and other catastrophes. Campers spent an hour building intricate gingerbread houses, which the counselor suddenly trampled to the ground. It was an attempt to invite us to consider the feelings that accompany the loss of home, identity, and way of life. (However misguided from a 2024 perspective…)

In exile, Jews lived at the whim of mercurial leaders. The Purim story dramatizes this: an evil minister plots to destroy the Jews by manipulating the king. While likely a work of fiction, the story reflects the reality of how quickly fortunes could change for Jews.

Our  ancestors  were  exiled  from  many  lands:  Italy,  Egypt,  Spain,  Portugal,  England,  Russia, Switzerland, North Africa...the list goes on and on.  By the 1800s, Jews became citizens of modern nation-states like France and Germany, finally gaining equal rights. Many believed our tragic history was over.

Then came Hitler. Germany, the paradigm of a modern, civilized society, proved that modernity did not guarantee safety. To the contrary: it guaranteed that the dangers we faced were greater than ever before.

This context is the backdrop of Levi's question. Throughout history, Jews have faced discrimination, draconian restrictions, expulsions, forced conversions, and murder. Facing blood libels, pogroms, and unending antisemitic conspiracies, Jewish dreamers across Europe came to believe that returning to our homeland was the only solution. The State of Israel was conceived as a safe haven for Jews worldwide, a modern political solution to an ancient problem. That, simply stated, is Zionism. Israel has done remarkable things to follow through on this promise, including daring rescues in Entebbe, Uganda, and absorbing Jews from Ethiopia and the Former Soviet Union.

So, what if Israel ceased to exist? With nine million people living there, where would they go? Some propose a multinational state for Jews and Arabs, but it’s unclear how Jews would fare absent the ability to protect themselves. (On the other hand, life for Palestinian Arabs in Israel is complex, but generally safe and even prosperous). It seems naive in the extreme to imagine that such a state is a pragmatic possibility.

The other option is that seven million or so Jews would have to leave. Where would they go? Here? Canada? Argentina? Either outcome would involve terrible violence to Jewish safety and identity. The elimination of the Jewish state would be a catastrophe akin to the destruction of the ancient Temples or the Holocaust. We would eventually survive and adapt, as we always have, but our people would never be the same. Over the last 2000 years, we accepted exile temporarily, thrived and persevered, but never gave up the dream of return. So, we would go back to dreaming.

Israel's national anthem expresses the longing for our homeland with the phrase - nefesh Yehudi Homiyah - the Jewish soul murmurs a yearning… In the scenario Levi asks about, we would resume hoping and praying, as our ancestors did, to once again realize our dream of self-determination - l’hiot am chofshi b’artzeinu - to be a free people in our homeland. As students of history, we know that this is required to bring true safety to Jews everywhere. Israel has already fulfilled this dream in so many respects. The next step is to fulfill our people's mandate as makers of peace. (The recent Abraham Accords indicate that progress is always possible, distant though it may feel.)

Every conflict is only a conflict until it isn’t.

Please God, let us build a world where Israel is secure and at peace with its neighbors.

I appreciate Levi’s question, and hope ardently that one day, no student will ever feel the need to ask it again.

Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - April 2024

Dear Friends,

Do you know where the largest Pesach seder in the world takes place? I’ll give you a minute to guess for yourself — the answer will surprise you!

Pesach (Passover) ranks as one of the most widely observed Jewish Holidays. Even those who do not attend synagogue or otherwise practice Judaism often find themselves around the seder table, asking the four questions and speaking of our ancestors’ journey to redemption.

The story of the Exodus is so compelling because it touches on universal human themes: the triumph of good over evil, and the quest for freedom. For that reason, the Jewish freedom story has inspired freedom-seekers throughout history, including the 17th-century Pilgrims and enslaved Africans. When my grandfather was alive, he would love to hear Al Jolson sing Go Down Moses — an abolitionist protest song influenced by the plight of the Biblical Israelites. This year, many Jews will place an olive on their seder plates as an aspiration for the liberation of both Israelis and Palestinians.

In short, Pesach’s universal themes bring an ancient story to contemporary relevance, every year. Perhaps that is why it is so widely celebrated. And I am so glad that this year, TBT will be holding our community Seder for the first time since 2019! Because many folks travel or spend the first two nights with family, our seder will take place on the fifth night of Pesach: Friday, April 26th. Our Seder will be joyous, uplifting and fun for TBT folks from ages 0-120. I hope to see you and your family there. Because our wonderful planning committee needs to order the right amount of food and set up our space properly, we ask for all RSVPs no later than April 11th. (RSVP here) Further information about the seder can be found later in the Shofar.

It is so important for us to be together to share these stories, especially in a year like this. If you are in town for that Friday night, please join us. You will be glad you did.

Oh, and in case you still wanted to know: the largest Passover seder in the world takes place in Kathmandu, Nepal.

I wish you and your family a Chag Kasher V’Sameach (a happy Matzah-filled holiday),
Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - February 2024

Dear Friends,

Last month in this column I introduced two vital Jewish values to help us as we confront this terrible war: Tzelem Elohim (human dignity) and Yetziat Mitzrayim (compassion for those under duress). This month, I’d like to tell you about Hillel and Shammai. They were ancient study partners who sparred about nearly every area of Jewish law. Even though both sides presented cogent arguments, Hillel almost always won. Why? According to the Talmud (Eruvin 13b) it was because Hillel would teach the opposing side’s argument first. He would invite the Shammai family to dine in his home even though they disagreed about kashrut. In short, he was a mensch, and that mattered most of all.

Further, the Mishnah (Avot 5.16) relates that there are two types of disagreements: those for heaven’s sake (l’shem shamayim) and those not for heaven’s sake. According to the text, Hillel and Shammai exemplify what it means to disagree for heaven’s sake.

As we all continue to pray for peace and the hostages’ safe return, I’d like to share some further learning resources with you in the spirit of Hillel and Shammai. In addition to our TBT programs, these can help us better understand the events in Israel and Gaza. If you’re a podcast listener, I recommend the Ezra Klein Show and the Hartman Institute’s “For Heaven’s Sake” Podcast. For high-level geopolitical analysis, check out the BICOM Podcast. (BICOM has also has an excellent primer on the conflict.) In particular, I recommend the following episodes from Ezra Klein’s Show:

Rabbi Sharon Brous (Senior Rabbi of IKAR LA)

Aaron David Miller (Veteran US Peace Negotiator who played a key role in Oslo)

Yossi Klein HaLevi (Senior Scholar of the Hartman Institute) and Amjad Iraqi (Palestinian-Israeli Journalist) — I recommend listening to these two back-to-back.

The ability to hold cognitive dissonance is a Jewish aspiration, reflected in much of the Talmud’s discourse. (And, not to mention, Tevye). When you listen to these podcasts, you will almost certainly hear ideas that both affirm and challenge your beliefs. You may start crying or feel very angry. I did both of these things.

I believe that as Reform Jews, we are called upon to grasp the fullness of this conflict, including things that make us uncomfortable. When we pay close attention to the lived experiences of people on all sides of this conflict, can we develop our own positions, grounded in moral integrity, an honest understanding of history, and the wisdom of our tradition. We can feel more confident in our commitment to Israel, knowing that we are not afraid to confront the pain of past and present.

L’Shalom — with every fervent prayer for peace,

Rabbi Moss