Welcome to Stamford, Limmud NY! (Jewish Week)

• OPINION

Welcome To Stamford, Limmud N.Y

Tue, 02/04/2014

Joshua Hammerman

 
 
 

Joshua Hammerman

In a few weeks, hundreds of Jewish New Yorkers will gather for the 10th annual Limmud conference, right here in Stamford. 

Since the Limmud website says barely a word about the host town, let me introduce you to the place I’ve called home for over half my life. While undoubtedly most Limmudniks will venture no more than a few blocks from I-95, you might still want to know what it is about this buzzing place that makes it so different from the sleepy suburbs of John Cheever stories or the stuffy, bigoted Fairfield County of “Gentleman’s Agreement.” No, Stamford is not Stepford, and its recent rise demonstrates the growing allure of small cities — and their potential for nurturing dynamic Jewish communities.  

Like the Yonkers of George M. Cohan, Stamford stands 45 minutes from Broadway, as the crow flies, at least if the crow is flying aboard a Metro North express. I’ve found it odd over the years how New Yorkers often assume that Stamford exists on some remote planet, when it takes as much time to get here from Grand Central as it does to get to the outer boroughs.

Stamford is close enough to New York to have attracted such luminaries as Maury Povich and Jerry Springer to display the fine art of incitement on the sound stage of the Rich Forum. And if that ain’t crass enough for you, we’re the home of professional wrestling — you’ll see the WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment) flag proudly waving from its headquarters just a few exists down the pike. 

For those into more conventional athletics, NBC sports has just moved its entire operation here, right next to Chelsea Piers — yes, Chelsea Piers, though in Stamford it’s neither in Chelsea nor on a pier. We have a Fairway too, which is located near a pier, in a neighborhood called Harbor Point, whose massive redevelopment has become a national model for urban planning. The city’s vibrant downtown features dozens of new eateries and drinkeries (Fairfield County has the second-highest number of restaurants per capita in the nation), a huge summer concert series and the world’s biggest balloon parade this side of Herald Square. 

With large corporations like Starwood and U.B.S., this is not your typical bedroom town. Many New Yorkers come here for weekends and call it their “country” home, while others reverse commute from Manhattan to work here. We’re betwixt and between, part bedroom and part boardroom, our landscape dotted with barns, beaches and bars, a chameleon-like collage that has served us well over the years. 

Situated along the DiMaggio Line between Boston and New York, Stamford is a demilitarized zone where fans of the Yankees and Red Sox can stroll harmoniously together among the cherry groves of Mill River Park and then dine at Bobby Valentine’s, where Stamford’s favorite son circulates among the tables. Pluralism and diversity are woven into all aspects of life here. We’re not ghettoized, like folks in bigger cities, or yawningly homogeneous, like smaller ’burbs. New York may be where Jackie Robinson played, but Stamford, always an island of coexistence, is where he lived. It’s where William Buckley pontificated, Gilda Radner laughed, Benny Goodman tooted, Gutzon Borglum sculpted and where Mel Allen, the legendary voice of Yankees, prayed — at my synagogue, in fact.

Two years before Allen’s 1996 death, just hours prior to Yom Kippur, baseball officially cancelled the World Series for the first time in Mel’s lifetime (the players were on strike). Everywhere, people were in deep mourning. The baseball world, the country and the calendar were entering an autumnal abyss. How could it be the fall without the Fall Classic?

I wasn’t sure what to say to Mel before Kol Nidre that evening. I wanted to comfort him in the hope that he could comfort me. So I said to him, “Such a sad day.” And Mel, in his matter of fact way, which could often camouflage deep wisdom as plain common sense, replied: “This is not a tragedy. War, now that’s tragic. Poverty and hunger, that’s a tragedy. This is not a tragedy.”

And I ascended the pulpit that night a whole lot wiser. Mr. Baseball, the one I had thought lived and breathed only for the game, made me understand that it was just a game. On that night that the Voice of the Yankees enabled this Red Sox fan to understand that ultimately we are all on the same team.

And that’s what Stamford can do for the Jews. 

The kind of inclusiveness that Limmud accomplishes once a year, we do all the time. Only in Jewish Stamford could the Conservative rabbi meet the new Reform rabbi for the first time at an Orthodox shul — on Tisha b’Av! With veteran political aisle-crossers like Joe Lieberman and Dick Blumenthal having called Stamford home, we are among the nation’s prime exporters of bipartisanship to the nation’s capital.

Don’t get me wrong. I love New York. And there are challenges to building vibrant Jewish communities far from the Broadway buzz, without a pool of a million Jews from which to draw. But we are doing it. My shul’s Kabbalat Shabbat service is every bit as sophisticated, musically innovative and inclusive as anything you’ll find on the Upper West Side. We’ve got two excellent day schools, a vibrant federation and JCC and a plethora of dynamic synagogues and havurot. All that, and I’ve got a rooster in the backyard.

As the suburbs blossomed in the late ’50s, Herman Wouk warned that Judaism would vanish “down a broad highway at the wheel of a high-powered station wagon, with the golf clubs piled in the back.” That has not happened here.

It’s fitting that the diaspora’s most concentrated Jewish urban center is taking its grand annual Jew-pallooza out to the periphery. The welcome rebirth of urban Jewish life does not have to mark the death knell of suburbia — especially when that suburb can itself become a mini-core, taking on some of the more salient qualities of urbanization while remaining eminently livable.

Enjoy Limmud. But know that just outside the hotel there is a Manhattan in miniature, a dynamic crossroads that is also an oasis of amiability, a Jewish Wobegon, where the women are strong, the men good looking and the services way above average.

Rabbi Joshua Hammerman is spiritual leader of Temple Beth-El in Stamford, Conn.

Diverse city: Stamford demographics are reason to celebrate (Stamford Advocate Op-ed)

I've had the privilege of living in Stamford for 25 years. While the true natives will never consider me indigenous, I'm feeling more like a native all the time.

I was particularly interested to see The Advocate page-one story of Feb. 17, "Changing Tides," discussing the demographic shifts that have taken place in the public schools. I consider our splendid diversity to be among the most positive aspects of living here. But demographic heterogeneity, like biodiversity in an ecosystem, is fragile, and needs to be nurtured and carefully sustained in order to enrich the lives of all. My concern is that people fitting my demographic profile might read these statistics and choose to opt out of a community of unparalleled richness, for all the wrong reasons.

When you look at it objectively, there is simply no better place to bring up kids.

So much has changed in our city over the past quarter century, almost all of it positive. When I got here, no supermarkets were open all night, and, to be honest, there were hardly any supermarkets at all. When I got here, downtown at night was a dark, forbidding place, and it wasn't much better by day. Now it has become a mecca of entertainment and great food, pulsating with street life and youthful energy. Now we've got Chelsea Piers and the spectacular Mill River project and the Balloon Parade and "Alive @ Five," and it just keeps getting better.

Beyond its variety of age and ethnicity, Stamford has an unparalleled religious diversity too. Fifteen years ago, I became the first pulpit rabbi to serve as president of what was then called the Council of Churches and Synagogues of Lower Fairfield County. Back then, I considered it amazing that a rabbi could be warmly embraced in neighboring communities that have not always been so welcoming toward Jews. But now, interfaith cooperation has become the norm, and we've added Muslims, Hindus, Baha'i, Sikhs, Buddhists and others to the mix, and Spanish- and French-speaking congregations as well.

When we all get together, and we often do, the effect is spellbinding. On March 21, my synagogue will host our community's annual interfaith Seder, with this year's timely theme, "From Egypt to Sinai, Selma and Sandy Hook: Liberation from a Culture of Violence." At last year's Seder, we heard a Muslim talk about the figure of Moses in her tradition and members of a Spanish-speaking congregation talk about their recent pilgrimage to Israel. Such lessons in loving our neighbor cannot easily be taught in a homogeneous classroom. In Stamford, our diversity enables the city to become that classroom.

A few years ago I had an eye-opening experience as the rabbinic consultant to the all-city production of "Fiddler on the Roof." Students from every school in the city were in the cast, including public and private, parochial and day schools; a hundred of them on a single stage, kids from all religious and ethnic backgrounds. Tevya was Catholic and two of his daughters were African American and Asian; yet as a story of Jewish wanderings and perseverance, it all seemed to make sense.

Both my kids have attended Westhill and thrived there, socially and academically. They have been able to go as far as they wished and most of their teachers have challenged them to do just that. They both got into their first-choice colleges; but more importantly, they have been prepared for life, real life, in a nurturing atmosphere respecting difference and embracing diversity.

I do alumni interviewing for Brown University, speaking to students from all over Fairfield County, which includes some of the top private schools in the nation, and I can tell you that the students from Stamford's public schools often top my list. Why? Because not only are they highly motivated and wonderfully talented, they are interesting. Why? They can recount tales of family migrations and insurmountable challenges surmounted, they project a passion for learning and an ability to view the American experiment from fresh eyes, and their diverse community has prepared them perfectly for the interconnected, fully integrated 21st century global environment they will be entering. Colleges recognize that.

Those students who spend their formative years in cloistered, homogeneous settings are, frankly, at a disadvantage when they get out into the real world, into an America whose demographic makeup is fast coming to resemble -- drum roll please -- that of the Stamford schools.

Let me make it clear that I see great value in private and parochial schools too. They are part of the fabric of a diverse community -- my kids attended a local day school for several years and they received a superb education. We need both options in order to attract the widest array of families here, and we have them. If the kids don't meet in the classroom, they meet at dance class or on the ball field. Diversity is for everyone, not just the public schools. So I encourage people to move to Stamford and, if they've already set down roots, to stay.

I recall words I spoke 20 years ago at Stamford's other congregation across town with the same name as mine, Bethel AME, noting that our collective name, derived from Jacob's famous dream, means "House of God."

"Stamford has two very different Beth Els who wish to bring the entire city to an understanding of how we can build that ladder to heaven. We can become a healing city, a place where all citizens feel sustained and nurtured in its midst. We can become an organic city, not of disparate neighborhoods and conflicting groups, but a collage where the whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. If we can come together, the rest of the city will have to follow. If they see that we can care for each other, we who are so different, we who still have somewhat differing agendas, but we who do care for each other, if they can see us holding hands, if we can pull this off, the rest of the city will take notice."

Over the past two decades, that vision has been, to a large degree, fulfilled. While we still have miles to go, I, who have brought up two children here, from infancy to college, have seen the great power this community has to nurture its children to adulthood. And that power begins with its schools.

Who would not want to live in such an amazing place?

Read more: http://www.stamfordadvocate.com/opinion/article/Op-Ed-Diverse-city-Stamford-demographics-are-4297981.php#ixzz2LZoF5UK7

Only In Jewish Stamford!

SIXTY FIVE members of our community - representing Chabad of Stamford, Congregation Agudath Sholom, Temple Beth El, Temple Sinai, Young Israel of Stamford - and the UJF and BJE studied a seminal Tisha B'av text together at the inaugural "Texts that Tie us Together" program, co sponsored Young Israel's Kollel. It was a pleasure for me to participate with a number of our congregants. As an added bonus, as you can see below, I had the pleasure of meeting the new rabbi from Temple Sinai, Rabbi John Franken, for the first time.

Only in Jewish Stamford could the Conservative rabbi meet the Reform rabbi for the first time at Chabad on Tisha B'Av!

The Connecticut Difference

This week's Jewish Week chronicles some of the reasons why it has become increasingly desirable for Jews to settle here in Fairfield County, and in particular, Stamford. See "The Connecticut Difference."

Stamford and Anatevka: Our Little Village

That ringing you heard at about 9 this morning was the sound of a gaggle of worried parents calling their realtors, considering a flight from Stamford, after reading the headline story in today's Advocate about yesterday's tension at Westhill High School, which led to six arrests.

You want to hear about tension? I witnessed a full fledged riot yesterday afternoon, as hundreds of Stamford school students fled for their lives, not from mere gang members, but bloodthirsty Cossacks bent on killing, evicting and generally destroying a centuries-old way of life.

Of course, what I saw wasn't really happening. It was a rehearsal for the all-school performance of "Fiddler on the Roof," which will be presented at the Rippowam Middle School next month. Students from every school in the city are in the cast (full disclosure: including my son Dan), both public and private schools are represented, including parochial and day schools, a hundred of them on a single stage, kids from all religious and ethnic backgrounds and all ages. This production is, in a word: fantastic. It also demonstrates what is absolutely fantastic about Stamford and why those frightful families would be horribly mistaken to flee.

More full disclosure: both my kids have attended Westhill and thrived there, socially and academically. They have been able to go as far as they wished to push themselves (with a little parental nudge from time to time) and most of their teachers have challenged them to do just that. They and their friends are getting into the very best colleges; but more importantly, they are being prepared for life, real life, in an atmosphere that is far more nurturing than it is tense.

When I picked Dan up at school yesterday and asked him about the police presence, he had no idea that there had even been an incident.

The school is not without its faults - the entire school system has faults. Incidents involving violence cannot be taken lightly. But leave here? Leave a town that has farmland, city and sea, with bustling restaurants, fascinating neighborhoods, balloon parades and Jerry Springer?

But I digress. Because I want to tell you more about Anatevka.

I went to the "Fiddler" rehearsal yesterday at the invitation of the organizers, as the cast's official rabbinic advisor. It turns out that the kids wanted to know something about the little world they were inhabiting on stage and the tragi-comic characters they were portraying. I came in expecting a few simple questions about what "mazal tov" means or why we light candles on the Sabbath. I was overwhelmed at the sophistication and depth of their questions.

I began with a brief overview of the tumultuous period when the play takes place, those decades just before and after the turn of the 20th century, when Jews living in the Eastern European Pale of Settlement under Czarist rule. I explained that this was a time of jarring change, of modernization confronting traditional societies, that most Jews were confined to shtetls, living among themselves. The cultural mix was extremely rich and diverse in the shtetl, with religious Jews mingling with socialists (hello, Perchik!), secularists and Zionists. But most, like Tevye, simply struggled to get by on their wits and their wisdom.

Things got turned upside down in 1881, when Czar Alexander II was assassinated. The Jews were blamed. We discussed what the word "scapegoat" means and why the Russian government found the Jews to be a convenient victim around which they could bolster their flagging popularity. This led to anti Jewish rioting known as pogroms, featuring murder, maiming and eviction, leading to a mass immigration of 2 million Jews to America by 1920.

I pointed out to the kids the great historical irony that, had these 2 million not come to America in the early 20th century, they and their children would likely have been killed in the Holocaust that followed a few decades later. Some would call it the miracle of Jewish survival. Since all of my grandparents were among those huddled masses, I'm not one to dispute that point.

May God bless and thank the Czar... for kicking out 2 million Jews!

But "Fiddler" would not be so universally adored were it only about the Jewish experience. I sensed from this very diverse group of students a desire to wrap their arms around these characters and make them their own. So they had lots of questions. It got to the point where the director said "last question" about a dozen times, and even then, kids came up to me after they were dismissed. Bear in mind that I was the only thing standing between a long day of school and rehearsals, and their dinner. When finally it was time to leave, we agreed that I'd respond to any other queries via e-mail.

They asked relatively simple questions, like why people kiss the mezuzah on the doorpost or spit three times to ward off the evil eye. And then there were tough ones. Why did the family sit shiva for the daughter who married a non Jew? I explained, as sensitively as possible, the emotions that were behind such an action, and how Jews have always seen immortality less in terms of their own souls' ascent to heaven as in their children and subsequent generations carrying on the faith.

Whew!

Then another toughie: Why weren't girls and boys allowed to dance together in the wedding scene? Keep in mind that these questions were being asked, in large part, by cast members who are not Jewish. In the play itself, Tevye expects the audience to have only simple questions about matters like "why we keep our heads covered and why we wear these little prayer shawls." Evidently, the students of Stamford schools are far more curious and more sophisticated than the typical Broadway crowd of the mid 1960s.

And less afraid to ask.

I paused for a moment and decided not to get into a detailed discussion of the subject of sexual contact (for more details, see my recent posting Ask the rabbi: Does my hand have a disease?") Definitely not the right place for that. So I just talked about how traditional people of all faiths are concerned about modesty; for Jews, that meant very little contact between boys and girls until marriage.

They asked whether Yenta the matchmaker still exists. Yes, I said, only now she's got a new name: J-date (which of course they had no idea about, so I added, "or E-Harmony"). Someone asked whether rabbis are revered as much now as they were then. I smirked knowingly at a few Jewish parents in attendance, said something like "If only!" and spoke of how the prime role is - and was - to be a teacher and as such to be respected because of the teachings we represent.

Then it occurred to me. These kids come from as many backgrounds as there probably were on the boat that brought my grandparents over, from Minsk and Smorgon and wherever (you can find your own ancestors at http://www.ellisisland.org/search/search_new.asp ). What an experience, for them to be in this show together. How amazing, for Tevye to be bemoaning intermarriage when one of his five daughters is African American, another is Asian - and he's Catholic! How incredible, that despite these confusing mixed messages, somehow this production of "Fiddler" makes perfect sense, to them, to a Jew with a traditional background like me, and maybe it would have even to Shalom Aleichem himself, a man who embraced life's messy absurdities, saying, "No matter how bad things get you got to go on living, even if it kills you."

One of the youngest cast members is the fiddler (he fits the requirements to play from that roof: small, agile and talented). He asked me about the symbolism of the fiddle. I mentioned that Jews have long gravitated to that instrument, including several of the world's most famous violinists. Maybe because it's music comes closest to a human cry. The emphasis there is on both words: "human" and "cry." Balancing that song of life in a world so shaky is no easy trick. Which is why we love these characters so much.

The original Tevye of the Shalom Aleichem books suffered much more than his watered down Broadway version. A daughter actually converts out of the faith and another child commits suicide. Novelist Dara Horn noted how her students came to see this literary Tevye as "a model for the Jewish people—because of his talent for “rolling with the punches,” because of his reservoir of inner strength, and because of his unique ability, woven from modern irony and sacred text, to forge meaning out of the absurdity that is so often the Jewish condition. In navigating a new world where being Jewish or even American can mean being a living target, Tevye, whose world was no less absurd, became their guide. Quoting the Mishnah, a Rabbinic text, Tevye often said, “You live regardless of your own will.” Tevye’s “translation”? “A person’s life is never pointless.”"

The Jewish condition is in fact the human condition. But in order to understand that, you need to live in a place where you are exposed to the widest possible variations of the human. You need to breathe the air of difference. That rarely can happen in a gated community, or in some of the towns nearby where homogenity is the rule. You can't put on a play like "Fiddler" in Stepford. You can only do it in a place like Stamford.

But in our little village of Anatevka, everyone of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a simple, pleasant tune without breaking his neck. It isn't easy. Why do we stay up there if it's so dangerous? I'll tell you, I don't know, but it's a tradition!"

Are we talking about a roof in Anatevka - or the cafeteria at Westhill?

Only in a place like Stamford can this play resonate so full-throatedly, despite all the seeming contradictions and inconsistencies. I cannot imagine having brought up my kids anywhere else.

A Catholic Tevye kissing a mezuzah? Sounds crazy, no?

Three Initiatives and 10,000 Doors

It was Albert Einstein who said, “In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity."

This philosophy has guided Jews through many turbulent times. The Talmud records one rabbi laughing jovially while walking on the embers of the destroyed Second Temple because, within the destruction, he could envision the seeds of a future restoration. Jewish history is replete with examples of how, in the words of Psalm 118, the stone cast aside by the builders later becomes the cornerstone of something bigger and better.

So it is that during these very trying times, our leadership has not stood still. Acting wisely, deliberately and with fiscal conscientiousness, the Board of Trustees has initiated three projects that will have a long-term positive impact on Beth El and the entire community. Any of these three would alone merit headlines, but taken together, they represent a visionary outlook that will set us up well to take advantage of the many challenges that will remain long after the recession has receded.

The three initiatives are:

1) The renovation of our social hall
2) The creation of a new senior position of Programming Director (and we’ve hired a superb candidate to fill that position in Ariela Pelaia).
3) The decision to open a nursery school in the fall of 2010.

All three initiatives were studied carefully at the committee level and were approved overwhelmingly by the board. There are many people who deserve our gratitude for their hard work and due diligence in enabling these dreams to become reality; a special thank you to Gary Gladstein and Judi Schnelwar Gladstein z’l, who have been the driving force behind the social hall project.

I’ll leave it to others to go into greater detail about the three projects; in this space I’d simply like to share some reflections on what, cumulatively, these initiatives will help us accomplish:

1) We’ll be able to be a full-service synagogue as never before, touching the lives of our congregants “from womb to tomb” with quality programs. The portfolio of our Programming Director will include singles, young couples, teens and interfaith families, helping us to build on the successes we’ve had this year in attracting these groups to programs like the acclaimed “Kosher Sex” series, Shabbat @ Home and, beginning this May, our much anticipated Shabbat potluck dinners. We’ll also be able to build on the fantastic outreach programs we’ve provided for those seeking employment, and the major successes we’ve had at drawing empty nesters and retirees to lectures and Synaplex events. Never before has our synagogue been so relevant to so many in need.

2) Young families will have a greater opportunity to affiliate affordably with a synagogue while enrolling their children in a Jewish nursery school of the highest quality. National surveys show that only half of Jewish families send their kids to a Jewish preschool. There are excellent ones already in our community, but these statistics and anecdotal evidence tell us that there are large numbers of Jewish families out there to draw in, many of whom will be attracted to the particular blend of tradition, openness and inclusiveness that Conservative Judaism offers. There are many Jews moving from other places where nursery schools and synagogues are synonymous, who want their children to have the experience of seeing the rabbi and cantor visit their child's classroom regularly and take them into a sanctuary, where they can be amazed at the glittering Torahs and majestic ark. We'll be the first synagogue in Stamford to provide them with that opportunity. And I can't wait!

3) With the best facility for Kosher celebrations in this area (and one of the few of this size in the entire tri-state region), combined with our priceless sanctuary and the marketing expertise of Steve Lander, the new social hall will generate the outside income necessary to sustain our growth without adding costs.

4) These initiatives will solidify our reputation for cutting-edge innovation, making Judaism come alive on every level. Ironically, in welcoming Craig Taubman back this month for the Cantor’s Concert (I hope to see everyone there!), we are celebrating that very fact. For it was Taubman’s last visit, his first-ever NY area “Friday Night Live” in January 2000, that changed us forever. On that night we experienced the chance to “Sing unto Adonai a New Song,” and we encountered ancient prayers as if for the first time. Taubman’s visit made us a more vibrant congregation (see the seminal article I wrote immediately following his visit). That’s good for Stamford, for the Conservative movement, Israel and ultimately for everyone. The world needs a vibrant Jewish people.

5) The ripple effect of these initiatives will buoy membership, Hebrew School enrollment and fundraising; but this is less about numbers than it is about mission, less about the sustainability of a single institution than long-term viability of the Jewish people. It’s as simple as this: the more we thrive, the more Jews will move here. The more we reach out to untapped sources of the unaffiliated, as only we can, the stronger our little corner of the Jewish universe will be. The more we demonstrate to the world the warmth of our pluralistic vision, the purity of our ethical values, the authenticity of our strivings, the better our entire community will be. For ours to be truly a model Jewish community, we need an excellent JCC, and superb federation and JFS, scintillating schooling alternatives - and the best possible Orthodox, Reform and Conservative congregations. We’ve come a long way toward that goal in recent years. Just look around you! Now we need to do our part, to make TBE as great as it can possibly be.

I’m pleased that we have partnered with so many local Jewish organizations this year on so many vital causes; we are committed to continuing to do so. I look forward to building on our partnering successes as we move ahead in this rapidly changing landscape, forging together a Jewish community with multiple gateways of entry, replete with a warmth derived from a sense of interdependence and common vision.

You might have seen a magnificent new marketing campaign by the United Methodist Church called "10,000 Doors" "What if a church wasn't a building," the campaign asks, "but thousands of doors?" The same can be said for a synagogue, and for a Jewish community. The more gateways, the better. The more people saying "Welcome! Please come in!" the better. For too long, synagogues have been waiting for families to find their way in. Now we are committing ourselves to seeking out those families, some of whom may be seeking us without even knowing it.

Our new programming director, renovated social hall and the Temple Beth El Nursery School will go far to making that vision of 10,000 doors come to fruition, not just for Temple Beth El, but for our entire community.

I'm so proud of our leadership and our membership for having the strength of spirit and unified vision that have been forged by President Gary Lessen.

Yes, In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.

What They Say About Stamford...

This week's Jewish Week features our own little corner of the world, Stamford Connecticut. Read what they have to say about our little town.

That's all well and good. But lately, not all the publicity has been so positive. We are the town, after all, where chimps mutilate humans and high school students tragically shoot their friends (and our hearts do go out to the family and friends of Daniel Villeda). We are the home of professional wrestling and the new home of - did I hear this correctly - Jerry Springer. We've got busloads of Catholics protesting in Hartford even when a proposal offensive to them had been withdrawn. And now, in Fairfield county communities, the village mobs are besieging the mansions of AIG executives who received bonuses. And as Conservative Jews, we have to be concerned about the anger brewing because of the current leadership crisis in Conservative Movement as well.

We're becoming the capital of anger, and there's a lot of it out there right now. At least we are doing our best to keep a lid on emotions here in or little corner of Stamford's Upper West Side. We've been addressing the current economic crisis in a most supportive and caring manner. There is a sense of common purpose that pervades all that goes on here, from classes to meetings to services. We need to continue to be the calm within the Stamford Storm.

This week's portion speaks of the prohibited labors of Shabbat- all of them, by rabbinic extension, but one in particular most directly. In Exodus 35:3 it states:

לא תבערו אש בכל משבתיכם

"Do not kindle a fire in all your settlements on the Sabbath day."

This verse is more than just a reminder not to cook or turn the lights on. It is interpreted to include the fire of anger. As Humash Etz Hayyim puts it, "Arguments and angry shouts are as much a disruption of Shabbat as working and spending of money."

During a time of great stress, let this verse be a reminder to all of us to "cool it," not just on Shabbat, but everyday. Let our Shabbat this week kindle a different kind of flame, that of love and spiritual fervor.

Join us for Shabbat Across America and Shabbat Unplugged tonight - and for services tomorrow - and let's GET HAPPY.