Rabbi's Column - December 2022

Dear Friends,

As I write this, we are about to light the first candle of Chanukah. Chanukah, which means “dedication,” commemorates the rededication of the great Temple in Jerusalem following the victory of the Maccabees in the 2nd Century, BCE. The famous story of the oil is first mentioned only many years later in the Talmud (Tractate Shabbat 21b):

When the Seleucid Greeks entered the Sanctuary, they defiled all the holy oil. And when the Hasmonean monarchy [i.e, the Maccabees] emerged victorious over them, they searched and found only one cruse of oil that was placed with the seal of the High Priest, undisturbed by the Greeks. And there was sufficient oil to light the menorah for only one day. A miracle occurred and they lit the menorah for eight days. The next year the Sages made [Chanukah] a holiday, with psalms of thanksgiving…

What the story leaves out — and I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot over the last year — is how the ancient Jews observed Chanukah in that first year. It would not have been a relaxing, luxurious holiday like we celebrate today. The sacred objects had been desecrated, and the space defiled with the remains of sacrificed pigs. There was much to clean and repair. I imagine the “rededication” only came to fruition in stages. For the eight nights following the victory, the miracle alone was enough. But then it was time to get to work.

The ancient Jewish community could not restore everything overnight. As with any major renovation project, it took sweat, patience, generosity, and time to become reality. So it is with our own “rededication” — we can see it happening in stages. Earlier this fall, many in our community signed a wall of dedication, to be installed behind the ark. Later, the lower lobby was ready for gathering, and we have been joyfully singing, praying, and connecting there with folks of all ages and stages. Very soon, we will be able to gather in our brand new community room, adjacent to the south building entrance and accessible to all. Thanks to the generosity of our families and the hard work of our volunteers, it is only a matter of time until we will celebrate the rededication of our own sanctuary.

This Chanukah, the sweet taste of anticipation is on all our lips. Like our ancient ancestors, there is so much for us to be thankful for this year. There is so much light ahead at TBT.

Wishing all of our families a joyful Chanukah of abundance,
Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - Fall 2022

“But Rabbi, I’m not really religious!”

Dear Friends,

What’s the Hebrew word for “religion?” It may surprise you to know that there isn’t one!

There are some close analogues: dat (דָת ,(minhag (מִנְהָג ,(and purkan (פּוּקרָן (all convey elements of Jewish ritual and practice. But none of them means religion. Why? because Judaism predates religion. Religion is a modern concept that consigns our spiritual and material selves to separate buckets. This is an illusion. There is no “religious life” and “secular life.” There is only life.

The great 20th Century American Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan thought of Judaism as a civilization. It’s an ancient wisdom tradition; an ethical system; a series of practices and a roadmap for cultivating the relationships that matter the most. It’s an orientation to the Mystery beyond our understanding.

But there’s more: Judaism is itself a later idea in our history (c. 2000+ years ago). Before we adopted that “ism,” we were a people - Israel. That identity has always come first. As a Jewish community we are connected to all Jews, past, present, and future. As I write this, we are reading Parashat Nitzavim, at the end of the Torah in which our ancestors assembled at Sinai to receive the Torah — everyone living and ready to enter Canaan, but also, existentially, everyone who has not yet been born. This means that all Jews are equally Jewish.

And there are so many ways to be Jewish. But the most important thing is to do, not necessarily to believe. Not sure if God exists? Okay. Light Shabbat candles with your family on Friday nights. Help a stranger in need. Volunteer with our social justice committee. Take one of my classes. Sing with the TBT Band. Attend a Kol Ami event. In short, have a joyful Jewish experience. Open your heart and your mind to something new. Judaism is much more interested in doing than believing, in relationship over dogma. If you ask me, God cares more about who we are than what we think of God.

At TBT, we’re starting to do a lot more in person. I’d love to greet you in person and learn more about what excites you about being Jewish.

Bivracha (with blessings),
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - Summer 2022

Dear TBT Friends,

In my magical, seemingly never ending summer days at camp OSRUI in Oconomowoc Wisconsin, we often cited this aphorism: every day is like a week; and every week is like a day. I feel the same about the year gone by: it has been so rich and full, but at the same time, I marvel at how quickly my first year as your rabbi has passed! It’s hard to believe that at this time in 2021, Susan and I were settling into our home, exploring the Shoreline for the first time, and beginning to meet all of you! What a wonderful year it has been.

As American Jews, we mark the new year at different times: we have Rosh HaShanah and the Gregorian New Year, of course; but also Tu Bishvat (the new year for trees and all things green) and, in the congregational world, the the fiscal year, which begins on July 1st. This is a meaningful time of transition at TBT, as we welcome a wonderful new Board and President: Dr. Karen Goldberg. At the same time, we offer a heartfelt todah rabbah (thank you very much) to Sarah Mervine, who served with dedication over the last two years.

Continuing the theme of exciting new beginnings: as we bid lehitra’ot (farewell) to Cantor Boyle, we are delighted to welcome Dr. Leah Cassorla as our new Religious School Director and Cantorial Soloist. Dr. Cassorla brings a wealth of experience, creativity, and passion to this role, and she is eager to get to know our TBT families. Soon, we will announce special gatherings this summer in which you will have the opportunity to meet her, tour the TBT construction site (I can’t wait for you to see the progress!), or both.

As the kids head to camp and many of us head to vacation or family gatherings, I wish everyone safe travels and a wonderful summer. I look forward to seeing you throughout the next few months — on the Green, at TBT, or perhaps for Shabbat on the Beach!

L’Shalom,
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - June 2022

Dear TBT Friends,

It’s trivia time! Could you name the very first letter in the Torah? It’s a bet, the second letter of the Hebrew alef-bet. Take a look at this letter:

ב

The ancient sages wondered why the Torah begins with this particular letter. One answer: its shape, closed on all sides except for its forward-facing left (we read Hebrew from right to left), reminds us to focus on that which is in front of us. Have you ever heard that the windshield is larger than the rearview mirror for a reason? I think this is a similar idea.

This season is full of endings and new beginnings: graduations, weddings; leadership transitions. Summer is just around the corner. Perhaps we’ve begun a new professional role, or recently welcomed a new member of the family. Occasions like these fill our hearts with excitement and hope.

At the same time, we are deeply aware of the losses of the past two years: milestones postponed; family gatherings canceled; loved ones who are no longer with us. It is impossible to move into the future without carrying the weight of these losses. Judaism also values memory of life’s hardships. Remember how Moses, seeing the Israelites worshiping a golden calf, threw down the tablets of the ten commandments in anger? According to the Midrash, the Israelites carried those broken fragments in the Ark of the Covenant right underneath the second versions that Moses carved. The broken pieces from our past become part of us.

I would contend that it is precisely because of this imperative to remember, that our ancient teachers direct our attention to the present moment. “Im lo achshav, eimatai?” asks the great sage Hillel — If not now, when? We keep our eyes focused on where we are, now. We acknowledge unmet expectations and unrealized hopes. We may find it impossible (or unhelpful) to jettison these lived realities. But they don’t need to weigh us down; rather, they occupy their own little corner of our psyche, like the rearview mirror, in balance with all that lies ahead.

Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - April 2022

Dear Friends,

I recently encountered this reflection on social media; it hit me like a punch to the gut.

 I am washing my face before bed while a country is on fire.
It feels absurd to wash my face, and equally absurd not to
It has never been this way, and it has always been this way
Someone has always clinked a cocktail glass in one hemisphere
As someone loses a home in another;
While someone falls in love in the same apartment building
Where someone grieves.

When we read the news, we are affected on a human level. And on a Jewish level, too: how can we help but be reminded of the invasions, pogroms, and expulsions of the Jewish past? For many of our Ukrainian brothers and sisters — whether Jewish or not — such violence is hardly consigned to the past. As I write this, millions of refugees amass in Poland and other friendly countries. Thousands of Ukrainian Jews have made (or will soon make) Aliyah, fleeing for the safe haven of Eretz Yisrael.

When we witness the horrific devastation of this unjust war, we feel helpless. Our lives march on while, simultaneously, human beings suffer half a world away. This cognitive dissonance — a mental tug of war — pulls us in two directions at once. It disturbs us. How could it not? As people of conscience, we feel an unresolvable conflict between our world and the world; between our safety and the role we might play to secure others’ safety.

I am grateful that people at TBT really care, and are ready to follow their words with actions. So far, we’ve raised thousands of dollars, donated life-saving supplies, become informed about Ukraine’s Jewish history, and gathered to pray and offer words of hope within our broader Shoreline Community. There will undoubtedly be refugees to support in months to come. Thanks to our TBT Ukraine-response task force, we have not been complacent. We can all get involved; we all have a role to play.

And conversely, for such a profound geopolitical issue, we can only do so much at once. That is why Rabbi Tarfon reminds us: The work is not all yours to complete; but neither are you free to desist from it. (Lo alecha ham’lacha ligmor; v’lo atah ben chorin l’hibatel mimenah). -- (Mishnah Avot, 2.16).

Among the gifts Ukraine gave to the Jewish world is the Hasidic movement. One of the early teachers, the great Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, taught: “The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year, and in every day.” Rabbi Nachman’s teaching will be on my lips this Passover, as I share in telling the story of our people’s journey from degradation to liberation; from oppression to freedom.

L’shalom - with fervent wishes for peace –

Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - March 2022

Dear TBT Family,

What makes a sanctuary? Reading the book of Exodus over the past several weeks, we’ve encountered details about the ancient Israelite sanctuary, the mishkan. The section begins with Moses collecting gifts of gold, silver, acacia wood, fine linen and more, in order to furnish it beautifully. Reading this section in Torah study, we remarked that this was the very first capital campaign in Jewish History!

And, as with the Capital Campaign, we quickly learn that the more interesting question becomes not what makes a sanctuary but who. In the Torah, no one is instructed to give. Rather, Moses is instructed to collect gifts from every Israelite whose “heart is moved…” – in Hebrew, asher yidvenu libo. G-d does not command participation; rather, the Israelites had faith that everyone would do their part.

So, too, with TBT. No one is commanded to give; only those whose “hearts are moved” need do it. For those of us who have been the “collectors” we stand in awe and appreciation of the more than 70% of our congregation who have helped us to raise nearly $6.5 million of our $8 million goal. We wonder if Moses felt the same – appreciation for how generous the people were, how willing to help the community, how much they gave from their own resources to make sure the community would thrive. Each gift touches us not only because it gets us closer to our goal, but because it gives us confidence in the future of our community and the people who are working so hard to secure its stability.

We read further in the Torah about the artisans Betzalel and Ohalieb, who designed the mishkan not only to make it functional, but also beautiful. We are similarly grateful for the ongoing work of our interior design committee, whose labors will make our renovated spaces beautiful and special – truly a place we can call home for the next generation. As you drive by our campus, you can already see the progress taking shape on the exterior of the building and on our grounds. In the coming weeks, we plan to offer tours of the interior so that you can see the amazing progress for yourself!

Among the Torah’s intricate descriptions of the mishkan, perhaps the most notable details are the ones that are missing: where did all of this finery come from, in the middle of the desert? What sorts of supply-chain issues and commerce delays (camel shipping is not fast in the best of times…) did they encounter during their big building project? It can’t have been easy, for those newly-freed Israelite slaves making their way through the desert. Likewise, it hasn’t been easy for our congregation, in the middle of a global pandemic, to keep our eye on the future in the midst of the storm.

Yet, whatever challenges or complications the Israelites experienced dropped out of the story at some point, because truly, in retrospect, they simply fade away. We know it will be the same for TBT. And then, at the end, all that remains is a beautiful sanctuary; a place to call home.

L’Shalom, Sarah Mervine & Rabbi Danny Moss

Rabbi's Column - January February 2022

Dear Friends,

We Jews have many opportunities to mark time and reflect on days gone by. We likely think of Rosh HaShanah as the beginning of the Jewish year. But did you know that even Rosh HaShanah is not the only Jewish New Year? In fact, the Mishnah (Rosh HaShanah 1.1) describes four distinct dates that mark the New Year:

There are four days in the year that serve as the New Year:
• On the first of Nisan is the New Year for kings and for pilgrimage festivals;
• On the first of the month of Elul is the New Year for animal tithes;
• On the first of Tishrei is the New Year for counting years; for calculating special years of rest; for planting, and for tithing vegetables.
• On the first of the month Shevat is the New Year for the tree, according to the words of the School of Shammai; But the School of Hillel say: The New Year for trees is on the fifteenth of Shevat.

As our Confirmation students have learned this year, in ancient disagreements between the schools of Hillel and Shammai, the wise and gracious Hillel almost always wins. So it is in this case: our celebration of the holiday of the trees takes place on the 15th of Shevat (Heb.: Tu BiShevat), this year corresponding to January 16. It seems strange to observe a Jewish Arbor Day when the bite of winter is still very present. But in Israel, the rainy season is in full force at this time of year; farmers and nature enthusiasts alike anticipate the first blossoms of spring, just around the corner.

The first century sage Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai teaches, “If you have a sapling in your hand, and someone should say to you that the Messiah has come, stay and complete the planting, and then go to greet the Messiah.” (Midrash Avot de Rabbi Natan, 31b)

I believe Rabbi Yochanan intends to teach us that even as we gaze expectantly toward a brighter future, we must not discount our own role in bringing that future about. Hence, when it comes to planting for tomorrow, even the Messiah can wait. What a radical thought! I offer my heartfelt thanks to the many teachers, volunteers, lay leaders, as well as our incredible and dedicated staff — all of whom are working hard to plant the seeds of a bright future for TBT. What we plant today has unlimited potential. That bright future may be closer than we think.

Bivracha (With Blessings),
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - December 2021

Dear Friends,

As I write this letter, the joyous festival of Chanukah has just begun. Is it any coincidence that so many global cultures — ours, of course among them — observe winter holidays by kindling flames? The essential message of Chanukah is that great miracles are possible, even in the darkest times.

The four letters on the dreidel, nun, gimel, hey, shin stand for the Hebrew phrase nes gadol hayah sham: A great miracle happened there. This makes sense for a fairly young tradition (dreidel) that developed in the diaspora.

But did you know that it’s possible to find dreidels with other letters written on them? I have one that comes from Israel. That dreidel has a different final letter: peh, which stands for po (“here” instead of “there”). In Israel, folks celebrate the miracle locally!

I like to keep both of these dreidels in my collection. That way, I remember that the story of Chanukah took place in our homeland; but the possibilities of the miraculous exist in every land.

Another spiritual component of this holiday is the placement of the Chanukiyah (Chanukah menorah). We are told to place the lit chanukiyah near a window or in a box near the entrance of our home. This is called pirsum ha-nes, or the public display of the miracle. The joyful remembrance is meant to be shared with others!

And of course, as the days grow shorter and darkness lingers, we all crave a bit of light and connection. Luckily, our in-person Shabbat Services are running strong at Camp Laurelwood! If you haven’t yet given our temporary service space a try, you will be surprised by how accessible and convenient it is. We meet in Zachs Rec Hall, just about a 20 second drive straight down the hill from Laurelwood’s main gate. You can park right there. We now have improved lighting and a ramp for accessibility.

Our first three Friday nights of December all feature something special: December 3rd is our community bringyour-own-chanukiyah service, as well as our new student consecration! On December 10, we will welcome guest shlichim (New Haven emissaries from Israel). Then on December 17, we will celebrate a joyous “Camp Shabbat,” with special songs and activities for kids and families. Please refer to your Shofar Blast for the details. We can’t wait to see you there. And in the meantime, I wish you and your family very sincerely,

a Chag Urim Sameach - Happy Chanukah,
Rabbi Moss

Rabbi's Column - November 2021

Dear Friends,

Is there anything better than autumn in Connecticut? Nature puts on a glorious show for us. Amidst the colorful leaves and cooler temperatures continue to enjoy the out-of-doors together, whether on a Kol Ami hike, Israeli folk dancing with our teens, or singing together with Cantor Boyle in our Religious School Tefilah. Of course, we are all looking forward to re-entering our sanctuary and social hall again in the near future. But more on that in a minute.

This year, autumn also brings us into the holiday of Chanukah. Like the High Holidays, it comes a little bit early this year: we light the first candle the evening of Sunday, November 28. We all know about the bright twinkling lights of the Menorah, the spinning dreidel games, and the irresistible aroma of potato latkes. But there are a few other things about Chanukah that perhaps you did not know. Three of them are especially relevant this year:

First - Chanukah means “Dedication.” The first Chanukah came about following a military victory: an ancient band of Jewish fighters against the Seleucid (‘Greek”) Empire over 2000 years ago. But the name of the holiday comes from a religious symbol: the rededication of the Temple after it was defiled under the orders of King Antiochus. The famous story of the long-lasting oil came on the scene only hundreds of years after the historic dedication of the Temple and its altar. If you want to read more, here’s an entertaining look at the development of this minor holiday.

Second - Chanukah is actually a delayed Sukkot. Yes, you read that correctly! The persecutions of Antiochus made it impossible for the Jews to celebrate this autumn holiday, which was in Temple times the most significant festival on the Jewish calendar. So according to an ancient text called II Maccabees, the Maccabees took up the Lulav and Etrog and celebrated a delayed Sukkot. That’s the first historical answer to the question: why is Chanukah eight days long? The story of eight days of oil first appeared in the Talmud, around 600 years later.

Third - The dedication happened before the work was complete. Speaking of that story, we have all heard the tale of the little cruse of oil that was supposed to last for only one day but instead burned for eight. Remember, this took place in the midst of a war. The setting of that story indicates that the Temple was in shambles during this “dedication.” The holy vessels had been plundered and the altar was covered in un-kosher pig parts. Gross!

And yet — the Maccabees decided to hold their dedication even in the midst of the mess. I hope that we will take this lesson to heart. We won’t have to wait until our own sanctuary feels “finally ready” to appreciate it; to sanctify it; to explore it; and to think of it as ‘home.’ I look forward to seeing you at the TBT campus in days to come. Because even if the work isn’t yet done, we can still gather together in our sacred home. I wish you and your family a beautiful autumn season, and a Happy Chanukah!

L’Shalom,
Rabbi Moss