President's Column - April 2025

April Reflections: Passover, Chad Gadya, and the Lessons We Carry Forward

April is a time of renewal—a season of cherry blossoms, warmer weather, the return of baseball, and, of course, Passover. Growing up, my brother and I always had time off from school during Passover since we attended a Jewish day school. That meant more than just a break from classes; it meant time with family, endless matzah (which, to this day, still tastes like cardboard to me), Slivovitz (Passover Plum Brandy), and singing our favorite Seder Songs.

One song that has always stood out to me is Chad Gadya (One Little Goat). It was my favorite then, and it remains my favorite now. As kids, we took great joy in singing it faster and faster, competing to see who could keep up. It was fun, but looking back, Chad Gadya is more than just a playful tune —it carries deep meaning, open to interpretation across generations.

Some scholars see Chad Gadya as an allegory of Jewish history, where each character represents a different empire that ruled over the Land of Israel. The goat symbolizes the Jewish people, while the other figures—from the cat to the Angel of Death—are stand-ins for the various nations that rose and fell through history. The final resolution, where G-d intervenes, signifies divine justice and the Jewish people’s ultimate return to their homeland. This interpretation was first widely published in a 1731 pamphlet by Philip Nicodemus Lebrecht, and it has since been explored in many ways, with variations on which oppressor represents which force.

Others see Chad Gadya as a moral lesson. Some connect it to the story of Abraham being sentenced to death by fire, only to be saved by G-d, reinforcing the idea that divine justice surpasses even death. Contemporary scholar Lawrence Hoffman suggests that the song warns against cycles of revenge—once they begin, they are nearly impossible to stop. And according to Rav Nasan Adler (1741–1800), Chad Gadya serves as a caution against lashon hara (gossip). In one story, after overhearing people gossiping about him, he pointed out that just as the dog had no business punishing the cat, people should not interfere in matters that are not theirs to judge.

Personally, I believe Chad Gadya is as relevant today as ever. In a world filled with too much gossip, too much retaliation, and too many divisions, we must find ways to come together. It doesn’t matter where we stand on politics, government, sports—or even which Kardashian is making headlines (frankly, who cares?). What does matter is that as individuals, as a community, and as members of such a special place like TBT, we continue strengthening our bonds of Judaism, connection, and family.

So this Passover, let Chad Gadya be more than just a fun song—let it be a reminder to break cycles of conflict and seek understanding. And perhaps a little Slivovitz wouldn’t hurt either. Let us all pray for peace in Israel, in the U.S., and across the world, as well as for the safe and swift return of all remaining hostages.

From my family to yours, Chag Pesach Sameach.

B’shalom,
Josh Broder,
TBT President

Rabbi's Column - April 2025

Dear Friends,

What does it mean to be free? This is the question at the heart of Pesach (Passover). The ancient rabbis call it zman cheiruteinu — the season of our liberation. Freedom is a universal human aspiration. Of course, it’s central to the American story, too. And that’s probably why Pesach is the most celebrated Jewish holiday. A climactic moment of the seder is when we read in the hagaddah:

B’chol dor vador chayav adam lirot et atzmo k’ilu hu yatza mi-mitzraim.

In each generation, it is incumbent upon each of us to view ourselves as though we went out from Egypt.

Each year, then, we’re asked to put ourselves in the shoes of a newly freed slave. What does that mean in 2025? It may be helpful to start with where we came from. My great-grandfather Max came to America at the age of 14, traveling alone. His parents stayed behind in Belarus; they were later killed in a pogrom. His brother, with whom he lived in Wisconsin, was then killed in a freak accident. I never got to meet my great-grandfather; I never learned of his suffering, or how it impacted his life. But whether he knew it or not, he turned that suffering into a bridge: to allow a life of freedom and opportunity for my grandmother, my mother, and me. That gift comes with a responsibility I hope I will never squander.

Perhaps your family has a similar story. Our ancestors sacrificed for our freedom. It’s one of the things I think about when we pass the Torah from the arms of grandparents, to parents, to children in our B’nei Mitzvah ceremonies. This is an incredible gift; a rare gift; a gift that for most of Jewish history would have seemed impossible. It wasn’t easy for us to integrate into American society, but we have somehow gone from a hated minority to the most positively-viewed religious group. Despite the widespread and growing antisemitism in our country, we still live as comfortable and integrated a life as any Jewish community has in 2500+ years. That alone is cause for celebration.

We are fortunate to have the sanction of the court of opinion. And I give thanks every day that we still have the sanction of the court of law, too — equal as citizens with any other. Every previous time in history we have enjoyed similar protections, they have eventually been taken away. Around the world — from Turkey, to Sweden, to France, and beyond— these twin protections are diminishing and disappearing for Jews. France used to have the largest Jewish population in Europe. In recent years, they have been making aliyah in huge numbers.

Our American freedom is a gift, not a guarantee. As we gather with our families around the Seder table, let us express gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy. They can disappear if we do not protect them. Maybe this is why we are asked at each seder to see ourselves as crossing that bridge, from shackled in servitude, to the promise of freedom.

Chag Kasher V’Sameach — Happy Passover,

Rabbi Moss

President's Column - March 2025

As we step into March, our synagogue is filled with excitement for Purim, one of the most􀀠joyous and meaningful celebrations of the Jewish year. While costumes, hamantaschen,􀀠and noisemakers add to the fun, Purim is ultimately a story of resilience, courage, and the􀀠power of community.

The story of Esther reminds us that even in times of uncertainty, we have both the ability􀀠and the responsibility to stand up for one another. It teaches us that hidden miracles often􀀠shape our lives and that joy and laughter can be powerful acts of strength. In a world that􀀠can sometimes feel overwhelming, Purim calls us to come together, find light in the􀀠darkness, and celebrate the blessings of our community.

This year, I invite each of you to embrace the spirit of Purim. Join us for the Megillah reading and Purim spiel on Thursday, March 13, at 7 PM—and let’s make some noise together! I’ll be bringing my homemade, wooden grogger, which I crafted when I was 12 years old.􀀠Our talented cantorial soloist, Rachel Policar, will be leading the spiel, making this an event you won’t􀀠want to miss. Most importantly, take this opportunity to reach out to others—send mishloach manot, give tzedakah, and spread the joy of the season.

Purim also reminds us of the importance of joy as a unifying force in our community. Through song,􀀠dance, and laughter, we strengthen our bonds and affirm our shared values. This year, let’s extend􀀠 the spirit of Purim beyond the holiday itself, carrying its lessons of courage, generosity, and 􀀠celebration into our daily lives.

As we laugh, sing, and celebrate, let us draw inspiration from Esther and Mordechai, remembering􀀠that even small actions can make a difference. Our synagogue is blessed to be a place where we􀀠 support and uplift one another—not just on Purim, but throughout the year.

This theme of unity and joy extends beyond Purim—it’s a value we uphold year-round and one we􀀠will celebrate in a grand way at our Annual Gala on June 7. Just as Purim brings us together with 􀀠purpose and joy, our Gala will be an opportunity to honor the heart and soul of our congregation—the people who make TBT a warm, vibrant home for all. Mark your calendars, because this will be a􀀠 night to remember!

Our Annual Gala will be an evening of celebration, gratitude, and inspiration. We will honor the􀀠 incredible contributions of our members, enjoy delicious food, and revel in the joy of our thriving􀀠 community. The night will be filled with music, entertainment, and meaningful connections, as well as 􀀠silent and live auctions. This is a wonderful opportunity to come together in the same spirit of Purim,􀀠 celebrating the strength and unity of our congregation.

We are currently seeking sponsors for our Gala, as well as auction items. If you have a vacation home􀀠or a unique experience you can offer, please reach out to the Gala Committee—the more􀀠 contributions we receive, the more we can benefit TBT. Your support makes all the difference, and􀀠we look forward to celebrating with you all!

B’shalom,
Josh Broder,
TBT President

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

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

President's Column - November 2024

Dear Friends,

In Judaism, gratitude is a core principle and a way of life, expressed through words, actions, and attitudes. The Hebrew term for gratitude, hakarat ha'tov, translates to "recognizing the good." Jewish teachings emphasize that gratitude can simplify our lives, even in difficult times. Grateful individuals tend to be more optimistic and less affected by jealousy and anxiety over what they lack. As we approach Thanksgiving in a few weeks, I want to share what I am thankful for and express my gratitude.

I am grateful for my family—my loving wife, Alison, and my incredible son, Cooper. They are my pillars of strength, and without them, I would feel lost. I am thankful for my clients who trust me and my team to guide them through their financial journeys. I am also grateful for my TBT friends and family, especially the dedicated Board of Trustees and Leadership Council who support our governance efforts. Our clergy and professional staff—Rabbi Moss, Ira, Kim, Caroline, Jen, and our custodians—are the real heroes who keep TBT running smoothly. And, of course, I am thankful for all our member families; without you, TBT would not exist. Lastly, I appreciate our volunteers, like Alan Friedman and David Sack, who I mentioned during my Rosh Hashanah speech. Their commitment is vital for TBT’s survival.

On that note, I’d like to reiterate two key points from my Rosh Hashanah address. First, David Sack has generously agreed to lead the final phase of TBT’s capital campaign, helping us reach our goal. For those unfamiliar, David is the son of Ed and Gloria Sack, of blessed memory. Ed was deeply involved in our financial matters and always focused on our future. David and his team will be reaching out to you, so I encourage you to engage with them—pick up the phone, respond to emails, and have conversations about our renovations and TBT’s financial future. Your involvement is crucial for the long-term success of our congregation. We are also looking for more volunteers to assist in this effort, so if you're interested, please reach out to me for more information.

Second, I want to address the need to reimagine and modernize TBT’s financial structure, a challenge we've discussed for over a decade. What does reimagining TBT’s finances mean? It involves creating a new model for membership and engagement. This fiscal year, excluding the preschool, our budget is approximately $800,000. The cost to run TBT per paying member household is about $3,000, while the average membership dues are around $2,500, resulting in a $500 deficit per member household. This gap is why we rely on our annual fund and charge for certain events, and it’s why dues have increased in recent years due to rising costs.

Many synagogues across the country have successfully restructured their financial models, and we will explore similar options. For instance, Kol Tikvah, a Reform congregation in Parkland, Florida, has developed a model called "Judaism My Way," allowing members to engage with the synagogue according to their individual needs while upholding shared values and financial flexibility. While I’m not yet sure if this model or another will suit TBT, we will investigate these possibilities in the coming months and years.

Dr. Alan Friedman will lead a special task force to explore how we can modernize TBT’s engagement and membership. This task force will focus on welcoming members of all ages, backgrounds, and family structures, especially as many Jews along the shoreline remain unaffiliated. They will ensure that any new ideas sustain TBT for years to come. If you’re interested in shaping TBT’s future, please reach out to me to join this important initiative.

So, this is my way of recognizing the good. There is so much more I could say, but for now, this is plenty. Have a happy Thanksgiving, filled with family, friends, and football, and don’t forget to share your hakarat ha’tov; it might just brighten someone’s day.

As a fun aside, the Hebrew word for turkey is tarnegol Hodu (India chicken). It’s unclear whether this name came from turkeys reaching the Jewish community via India or from some historical confusion. Regardless, it’s often shortened to simply Hodu, which means both "India" and "thanks," as in Hodu L’Adonai ki tov. So, the bird we enjoy on Thanksgiving is literally known in Hebrew as "thanks." How fitting!

Josh Broder,
TBT President

Temple Educator's Column - November 2024

From the Education Center

TBT's Religious School curriculum is built around Jewish values, beginning with those in our temple mission statement. That value is Kehilah – community. We have a wonderful faculty; a few being members of TBT. Half of them are undergraduates who bring a youthful energy that is contagious. We are lucky to have them all. Even so, I would like us to develop a new muscle in our Kehilah Kedoshah – our sacred community. I invite every adult in our congregation to give serious thought to the idea of becoming a teacher or a substitute in our Religious School. Maybe not right away, but soon.

 Throughout my career I have preferred to hire members of the congregation whenever possible. You bring a sense of ownership, of long-term commitment to this community. And you bring something to our kids that is unique. You serve as a special kind of Dugma – a personal example. And that – Dugma – is another one of our values. Dugma sometimes results in one kid saying to another, "Wow, Cooper! It is so cool that your dad is our teacher!"

I have been so grateful and proud that so many temple members joined the faculty. When members become teachers, the village really does raise our children. And it makes us all feel even MORE engaged. I invite you to become even more hands on, my fellow villagers. This is not solely - or even primarily - a request to our members who are educational professionals. Two of the best teachers I ever worked with were not professionally trained teachers.

 Sy Bierman was my Religious School classmate. He was a treasury agent by day, pursuing counterfeiters, among other financial crimes. He was our fifth-grade teacher and he was amazing. He was so amazing that parents began demanding he teach their kids. When I graduated college and joined the faculty, another teacher and I were each assigned one-third of the year with different groups of 8th graders, just so that every 8th grader would have part of the year with Sy. I was proud to call him my teacher and my colleague.

 Mort Wolin was one of the first teachers I worked with as a temple educator. He was in sales. He was a very soft-spoken gentleman whose grandsons were in our school. He was also the sole Jewish survivor of Baronovich, Poland. The leaders of the Jewish community were able to get a single visa from the Nazis in 1940. They chose to give it to him and send him to America because he was the valedictorian – their greatest hope for the future. His experiences in Poland, being a father and grandfather and his career in sales made him a great teacher. He loved

Judaism and transmitting it to the young, and as a good salesperson, he knew to listen as much or more than he spoke, giving his students agency and encouraging their curiosity.

Many years ago, Eric Yoffee, then the President of the Reform Movement (URJ), declared that the path to synagogue leadership should pass through the classroom. Moreover, he said that we all need to take a more direct role in the education of our congregation’s children. There are some synagogues even smaller than ours that require new members to take a turn as a teacher.

Please consider taking yours. And we are still looking for classroom support right now. Call me. Email me. Let’s help our youngest villagers grow and take their places among us.

L’shalom,
Ira Wise
Temple Educator