TBE Milestones: A Signature Mitzvah

Back in 2009,  the world was reeling from the financial meltdown and for the Jewish community especially, the Madoff scandal took an enormous financial and emotional toll.  Knowing that from crisis emerges opportunity, on the High Holidays I proposed a reset - and a chance to reimagine the meaning and role of mitzvah in our lives.  A number of Conservative congregations were focusing on the theme of mitzvah that year, responding to a challenge from JTS Chancellor Arnold Eisen.  And for us the Mitzvah Initiative became a year-long theme of adult ed classes, articles and sermons.

In this sermon I suggested that everyone choose a "signature mitzvah" to work on over the holidays, and beyond.   Several on the board shared their signature mitzvot.

You can listen to the first day Rosh Hashanah sermon below and see the texts of all four sermons here.  

Here's an excerpt from that sermon:

So what’s a mitzvah?  A good deed?  A commandment?  

Yes and yes, but it’s more.  Much more. 

f we are going to push the reset button and reboot our Jewish souls, we need to rediscover this primal Jewish concept as if for the first time.  And for many of us, it will be the first time.  

To be a Jew is to reside in the world of mitzvah.

A mitzvah is a very human act, but with a cosmic result, one that reverberates throughout the entire universe.  But while mitzvot are ordained from on high, many perform them for reasons that are most mundane. 

Some light candles because their parents did. 

Some go to services because they get to schmooze with their best friends.

Some send clothes to Goodwill because their closet is so stuffed that the door won’t close.  

There are many shadings to mitzvah, and we’ll be covering a few of them on these high holidays.  

Mitzvot are, above all, opportunities to open ourselves up to a life of greater meaning and purpose.  To make the most of our God given talents.  But not in isolation.     For the path of mitzvah is the path of bonding. 

Some derive the word mitzvah from the Hebrew expression “tzavta,” which means connection.  Through simple acts, we bond together what is divine with what is so utterly human and we connect to people everywhere.

Mitzvot are the mountain peaks where heaven and earth meet, where the mundane becomes sacred, where the religiously blind become spiritually aware. 

In this green era, the mitzvah is a cheap source of renewable Jewish energy.  And how do we energize?  By taking on more.  By stockpiling our mitzvot.  But each of us must also specialize.

The Ishbitzer Rebbe looked at the Sh’ma and asked what does it mean to “love the Lord your God with all you heart, with all your soul and with all your might?”  Everyone has a particular mitzvah, he proclaimed. By fulfilling it, that person achieves the world to come – this mitzvah and its fulfillment become the essence of that person’s whole existence.

So what’s your mitzvah?  Everyone has a signature mitzvah, a mitzvah that defines us. 

I teach children – therefore I am. 

I feed the hungry, therefore I am.  

I take people to Israel, therefore I am.  

That mitzvah becomes our immortality.  Our legacy.  Our footprint in the sand.  It is, to quote one of  this summer’s celebrated heroes, Julia Child, when talking about cooking, “what I dooo.” 

There is a midrash that when a person is asked in the world to come, “What was your work?” and they answer, “I fed the hungry,” that person will be told, “This is the gate of the Lord, enter into it, you who have fed the hungry….  The same goes for those who reply that they raised orphans, performed acts of tzedakkah, clothed the naked and embraced acts of lovingkindness (Midrash Psalms 118:17).” 

So what will you say when you reach paradise?  What will your descendants be saying about you?  What do you dooo?”

Once you discover your signature mitzvah, the key is to take that mitzvah, to live it with all your soul and all your might – and to share it. 

Think about it: There are, according to Maimonides’ count, 613 mitzvot in the Torah and we have nearly three times that many people here today.  By my calculations, then, if each of us were to take on one mitzvah on behalf of the community, then all together, we would make up three complete Jews! 

Well, in fact some of the 613 mitzvot are no longer in play and others are only meant to be observed in Israel – but the main thing is that most of us actually might want to do MORE than one.  We do many mitzvot, after all, and often without knowing it.

But let’s each of us begin with one.  Everyone start with one. 

And if we bring that one to this community it will bind us as one.

And if we project our mitzvah out from this sanctuary out into the world, its positive impact will have all of us behind it.  They say that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas… but what happens here impacts the world. 

So what will your mitzvah be?

 To attend morning minyan? To make Beth El greener?  To read Torah or to tutor?  Or maybe to coordinate letter writing for Israel or to help with our Sukkah or Purim carnival.  Maybe it’s to run a support group for those who struggle with addiction. 

This year, Beth El has responded so supportively to the needs of those out of work that job networking has become our collective signature mitzvah.  Michael Arons has been moving mountains to make this happen, but our neighbors have been thanking us simply because we belong to Beth El. 

Call it Mitzvah by association.  

There are a number of mitzvah heroes here.  This one is helping with job networking, and that one is helping with the food drive.  This one is paying anonymously for a famous scholar to teach a series on prayer, and that one visits people in the hospital.  We’ve got Beth El mitzvah-makers all over the world.  This one is teaching Adon Olam to a bunch of schoolchildren in India that one is serving up vitamins to Ethiopian kids in Netanya.  And we’ve had congregants volunteer countless hours to realize the dream of the renewed social hall and lobby we are enjoying today. 

The UJC has created a Mitzvah Heroes website and has been asking people to vote among a number of nominees, for people like Anne Heyman who is responsible for a youth village in Rwanda that cares for orphans.   And Sadie Mintz, a Hollywood resident since 1929, who has risen at 4 AM once a week to prepare for her early-morning volunteer shift in at the cancer ward of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. 

Think about it – if every person here took upon him or herself one mitzvah – one way to bring a little more love and holiness to our community and to the world and just did that, imagine what an impact that would make.

So what is your signature mitzvah?  What others can you bring into your life?  I asked board members that question and their responses are on our website.

As a rabbi, I consider myself somewhat of a general practitioner, but I’ve also got more than a few signature mitzvot.

One that I embrace is the one listed as #16 on Maimonides’ list of 613; it is a mitzvah for everyone to write a Torah for himself.  I see my own writing in that light, as an attempt to bring the Torah to life through the prism of my own experiences.  I also like #28, not to harm anyone in speech, though it’s hard and I often fall short.  And there’s #39, to care for animals, and the 150’s, which all deal with aspects of Kashrut.  And then there’s the 170’s, which all deal in business ethics.  I care about those. 

And I can’t forget #114, the mitzvah of making pilgrimage on festivals to the sacred soil of Israel.  I’ve come to see that as truly my signature mitzvah.   As you know, we are planning our next TBE trip, and we decided to postpone it from this December to next July in order to give more people this chance to go to Israel with our congregation family.  We’ve cut costs to the bone while still providing a five-star trip.  I implore you to talk about this over lunch today and consider this amazing opportunity. 

And one more signature mitzvah: #53.  Love the stranger.  The Torah repeatedly commands us to love the stranger, because we were strangers in Egypt.  Often, this refers to the Ger Tzedek – the convert.  And indeed, we make it our business here to welcome converts and to make the process of becoming a Jew by Choice one of tremendous spiritual growth.  But there is another type of stranger found in our sources – theGer Toshav – the person who, while not taking on Judaism as a faith, has elected for whatever reason to reside in our midst, and who, often with a Jewish spouse, has chosen to participate in this grand experiment called Jewish destiny.  Maimonides could not imagine a world like ours, but the sentiment expressed in that mitzvah – to love the stranger – has made # 53 it one of Beth El’s signature mitzvot.

For those who are here today who are not Jewish, I embrace you warmly and unconditionally and invite you to share in this crucial work of world repair.  No strings attached.  We need all the help we can get!

So this is going to be our year of the mitzvah. 

And to start it off, I’d like to ask everyone here to do a mitzvah this week, between now and Yom Kippur, one that you have never done before.  And make it a challenging one. No cupcakes!  Anyone can put a few coins in a tzedakkah box.  How about lighting candles this Friday night?  If you do that already, how about separating milk and meat – for a day?  For a meal?  For a course?  I’d be happy to help explain it to you.    

OK, and if you can’t do that because you are blogging your way through Julia Child’s cookbook, how about taking an hour away from all that butter to study the Torah portion?   Or maybe visit a local hospital or nursing home and see people you don’t know.  Or, hey, I don’t know, if you’ve never come to shul on the second day of Rosh Hashanah – come here tomorrow to participate in the mitzvah of hearing the shofar – that’s number 132! 

Come to minyan and maybe try on tefillin – that’s #20.  If you’ve never built a sukkah, it’s not too late.  We’ll help! Or simply have a meal in our temple Sukkah; that’s mitzvah # 142.  And even easier, buy a lulav set – # 141. We’re really pushing this one this year, because it’s so much fun and we’ll have a huge lulav parade here on the second day of Sukkot, which falls on a Sunday.

If you return a lost item, you’re doing a mitzvah – # 276.  So if someone lent you something years ago and you just came across it, but you weren’t really sure what to do – return it!  If you have one of my books, for instance, I’m declaring an amnesty period until Yom Kippur.  No questions asked. 

If you care for an animal, you’re doing a mitzvah.  So adopt a dog and name it mitzvah.  Throw a yarmulke on it and have a bark mitzvah….  If you’ve been carrying a grudge, end it. #32.   If you’ve been gossiping, stop it (28); if you are known for angry outbursts (and who isn’t these days!), cool it – #30.  If you’ve given tzedakkah, give more – #52.  If you’ve never performed a bris… …maybe hold off on that one… but it’s #17.   

Find a mitzvah, do it and do it on behalf of all of us.

Many of the 613 mitzvot are obscure, some have become obsolete, and others are downright objectionable.  But the act of struggling with mitzvah in itself connects us to our roots and to one another.  Maimonides wasn’t the last word on Torah, which is fortunately a living document. The mitzvah map is changing all the time. There are plenty to choose from, though.  So find one that means something to you. 

Then just do it. This week. 

I know of one rabbi who asked his entire adult ed class to go home and light candles that Friday night.  The response was amazing. – sort of like the response we had last year when several congregants hosted others for Shabbat @ Home, something we’re planning to do again in a few months.

One student came back and said “My family laughed at me.”

Another said he went upstairs and lit them in the closet.  (I don’t recommend that).

And a third told the teacher, “I went home and lit candles last Friday night – and my husband cried.”

You know, it’s interesting that we always use the expression that we practice mitzvot.  We’re alwayspracticing.  We never get it right! 

In Judaism, Practice never makes perfect.  But practice makes something much more important. 

Practice makes affect.  Practice makes purpose. Practice makes holiness.  Practice brings hope.  Practice brings bonding.  Practice brings people together.  Practice brings communities together. 

Practice brings heaven and earth together.  So just do it!

But don’t do it for any reward, or mitzvah points, as we used to call them.  Think of Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan, who said, “Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is like expecting the bull not to charge at you because you are a vegetarian.”  Kaplan had a decidedly secular term for mitzvot.  He called them folkways, but they were no less important to him, even without the notion of a personal God.  Whatever your beliefs about God, Kaplan understood that without ritual, there is no Jewish civilization. 

Do it out of love, love for a parent or grandparent, love for our children, love for the Jewish people, love for a Torah that has filled the world with holiness; to bring the world from tzarot to mitzvot, from pain to perfection; do it out of the conviction that there is something bigger than us, a power of love in the universe that we can tap into – and a Jewish message that is timeless and wonderful.

Do it to atone.  We now know from his just published memoirs that Senator Ted Kennedy was haunted by the death of Mary Jo Kopechne to his dying days.  He spent the last half of his life atoning for the first half of his life.  40 years of wandering in that personal wilderness. But he spent those last 40 years making the world better for all of us, and especially for the poor, the homeless and the sick. “Our sins don’t define the whole picture of who we are,” Kennedy said.  And that is true. 

But our mitzvot do. 

Kennedy’s father said it to him early on.  “You can have a serious life or a non-serious life, Teddy. I’ll still love you whichever choice you make. But if you decide to have a non-serious life, I won’t have much time for you.” 

Teddy made the right choice.  And he wasn’t afraid to declare it to the world.  JTS Chancellor Arnold Eisen says that the question of mitzvah here is not about theology, it is about our desire to be different, to stand out, to make the case that change is possible and to declare it to the world.

Don’t be afraid to declare it to the world! Kennedy was an unabashed liberal.  We should be unabashed Jews.

Because what we do matters. 

Think of Robert Lappin.  This is the guy from Boston whose foundation funded a number of educational ventures, including the trips to Israel taken by our teens a few years ago.  His fund was totally wiped out by Madoff.  Completely.  It ceased to exist. 

So what did Robert Lappin do?  He reopened his foundation, and is using his own money to restore the retirement savings that his employees lost in the fraud.  Lappin is the anti-Madoff, the antidote to a civilization-gone-mad, the one who turned crisis into opportunity, into a threshold of radiance and balm.

Whenever we hear the world saying that Jews are crooks, think of Lappin, and think of all the mitzvah heroes you know.  Look around you.  In fact, all you’ll have to do is look in the mirror.  Think of a tradition that is our precious legacy, and a heritage of goodness that can take your breath away.  Think of mitzvot.  The ties that bond. 

And think of how it’s possible to awaken to the rhythms of life and love, on this first day of the new decade, the 5770s, without benefit of a single shofar blast.  We have done it, and we can do it.

The recovery begins today, as we embark on this path of connection, the path of bonding. The path oftikkun olam. 

The Mitzvot are our stimulus package for the world. 

Together, let us bring Mitzvah back.   

TBE Milestones: Friday Night Live with Craig Taubman: Jan. 21, 2000

The New York area premiere of Craig Taubman's "Friday Night Live" was a major happening here, on a very cold January 21, 2000. Here's what Rabbi Sobel of Temple Sinai and I wrote on the cover of the program (which was also a simplified siddur), explaining what was about to happen.  That's followed by my service notes that I used to introduce prayers and explain the significance of this service.

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 After the service, we handed out evaluation forms and got incredible response.

A few weeks later, I wrote an  article in the  NY Jewish Week, sharing the thrill of FNL.  

Here's an excerpt:

Was it a show? Yes. But no one exited that service feeling emotionally cheated or manipulated. No one would rather have been at Lincoln Center. We connected at the deepest level. And when I spoke briefly that night on the need for young, wayward Jews to return home to Judaism, I felt at one with my message.

A few days later, I got a note from one young woman with a Jewish father and a Catholic mother, who that night attended a Shabbat service for the first time. "It was WONDERFUL," she wrote, "filled with God’s spirit. I felt right at home. I’M SO EXCITED!!!" In reaching out to Jews on the fringe, we touched at least one who had strayed far beyond it. Her letter alone was enough to convince me that this show must go on.

Craig Taubman will be "performing" Friday Night Live at the upcoming Rabbinical Assembly Convention. I urge my Conservative colleagues to listen closely to their own voices singing along. Orthodox Jews will recognize this revolution in the popularity of the Carlbach style of service, which like Taubman's and B.J.'s, is also now being exported to distant places. And Reform Jews need to heed Eric Yoffie's recent cry for liturgical reform.

There is a Darwinian aspect to this that we must understand. That which brings life to our worship will survive, and that which doesn't will not. The Germanic-Eastern European music that energized synagogue life for two centuries did its job well, but its day is done, except as it is being synthesized into contemporary forms. The psalms themselves are imploring us, "Shiru L'Adonai, Shir Hadash," "Sing unto Adonai a new song." The caravan has already moved on to other ways of making our ancient, sacred prayers come alive. Service attendance will continue to decline until we all understand that it's either good show -- or no-show.

TBE Milestones: Defining Ourselves as a Conservative Congregation - in the late '90s.

In the last years of the 20th century, the Conservative Movement tried to define itself, something that it never really had done. The publication of Emet V'Emunah (you can read the pdf of the entire document here) was a true landmark, but its flaws reflected the flaws of the movement itself. The document tried to span the enormous gap between extremes, to be all things to all people. It was a valiant attempt to take seriously the ideology of a movement that by definition was born less of ideology than sociology. Conservative Judaism was intended to be way station between the restrictive Orthodoxy of its forbearers and a more modern expression of tradition that would enable new immigrants to make it in America. 

By the late 1990s, well into my first decade here, Beth El underwent its own identity crisis. While it was true that we were members of the United Synagogue and while our liturgy was well in line with the movement, many of our practices were outliers with regards to how the movement was evolving. We used the organ, which was a source of much consternation, and in fact had led, over the span of decades, to many Conservative-oriented Jews not joining here. We also were formal and monolithic in our style of prayer. There was little room for pluralistic expression and none at all for some of the innovative styles being developed within Havurot (fellowship groups that had been founded during the '60s counter culture in Boston and elsewhere), and its D.I.Y. bestseller, "The Jewish Catalog," and also among those involved with Camp Ramah and other bastions of counterculture creativity. When I arrived, it felt as if the '60s had never had happened here.

So the generational change I brought in the '90s came as a shock to the system. What was doubly shocking was that as Associate Rabbi, I could only go so far in introducing change, so when I became Senior Rabbi, and began implementing some reforms, some people felt like "another Josh" had taken over my body. And in a way it was, a Josh whose vision reflected the innovation, pluralism and activism that was the Conservative Judaism that I grew out of, in countercultural Boston, as well as at Ramah, Brown and JTS.

But however different I seemed, and I was hardly a radical, even that mattered little, because whenever a new rabbi takes over, it's always going to be a shock to the system. It's not just true for rabbis. I was told by a colleague and close friend, Gary Brown, pastor of First Congregational Church, that the point of friction usually happens between years three and five of a new clergy's tenure - for those lucky enough to stick around that long.

And sure enough, that's precisely what happened here, in the mid to late '90s. It was a classic battle of the "old guard" vs the new, with new leadership clamoring for more innovation (which for many meant less organ) and opportunities for diverse and more lay led services - a staple of the havurah movement. We experimented with different formats, which people accepted as long as it was relegated to Shabbat (since, frankly, those whom it would bother were rarely here to see it on Shabbat). But once the suggestion arose to offer an alternative service on the High Holidays too, it was not well received. Rumors sprung up of a conspiracy to make us "orthodox," which couldn't be further from the truth.

There was also a financial aspect to this friction, with the old guard seeking to implement strict financial controls to get us out of a hole (as they had recently done at the JCC), and the younger leadership opted to change the paradigm completely, assessing the congregation $200 per family to get us out of the red and then implementing new, more democratic and transparent fundraising strategies, which led to our first High Holidays appeal. It was a complete overhaul that energized the congregation, but at the same time made some feel uncomfortable, feeling that the synagogue they had grown up with had changed irrevocably.

It was at that point that I tried to draw the entire congregation into a conversation about what Conservative Judaism is - and to engage in strategic planning as to what TBE should become. I sent out a packet that included a fact sheet pertaining to some of the issues we were dealing with then, along with a chapter from a book explaining Conservative Judaism in detail.

I'm sure some of you are cringing at my dredging up prior moments of tension. The fact is that such moments are completely normal in an organization in transition. The key is to be able to recognize the dynamics of what is happening, to hear people's concerns and mitigate against any unnecessary damage.

As TBE faces the coming transitional years, there be similar moments of institutional tension. I guarantee it. You can call me in 3-5 years and let me know. I'll be on the beach. And while this transitional tension will be manifested in any number of ways, it always comes back to the rabbi. Even when people say it is about something else, it always comes back to the rabbi. That's why we get the big bucks.

Even in the healthiest of situations, it happens. I know, because our situation was about as healthy as it gets. I may have been "another Josh" in practice, but I was still the same person, and we knew each other well by the time I became senior rabbi in 1992. Your next rabbi will not have that advantage, and neither will you.

We have once again affiliated with the Conservative Movement. Over the next several years, you and your new rabbi will be engaged in a vigorous exploration of what that means. That conversation, which has never really been completed from the late '90s, needs to happen again and again.

See below the first page of the material I sent out to the congregation back in the late '90s below: Click here for the rest of the material, which includes my rebuttal to the accusation that we were becoming "Orthodox." (the chapter is somewhat dated but still relevant).

In This Moment: If it Goose Steps like a Duck; State of the Synagogue...30 Years Ago

 

In This Moment Great Moments in TBE History Christmas Eve at Pacific House, 1998 and 2012 If it Walks Like a (Goose-Stepping) Duck ...It's a fascist, racist duck. The photo above is from a controversial anti-Nazi propaganda film, "Der Fuhrer's Face" from 1943 (see the full video below). Which brings me to the "poisoning the blood" comments by Donald Trump this past week. Those comments went so far beyond the pale that what was most deeply disturbing about it was how few people were deeply disturbed. As the calendar turns to the fateful year of 2024, I'll say now and repeat as needed that Trump and Trumpism must never come to rule this country again. See the article in the NYT (below), where he doubles down on the comments made at prior appearances, saying that migrants crossing the southern border are “poisoning the blood” of America, using tropes right out of Mein Kampf. Anyone who ignores this threat, or whatabouts it to absurdity - all they're doing is "ducking" (sorry, Chris Christie, for using your Donald Duck line) the obvious conclusion and forestalling the remedy. Let me state this clearly, for all you moral clarity fans: Anyone who speaks of racial or ethnic contamination of blood, replacement theory or humans being a form of "vermin" has crossed the line. This goes beyond simple hate speech. We've crossed over into Nuremberg Laws territory. This is overt racism. Read the NYT article and if you know anyone in Ohio, ask them to write to Senator Vance and ask him what in the world he is talking about. In the 1943 Disney feature, Hitler was lampooned as a buffoon with funny hair, as was common back in the day. But funny hair on the face of evil does not render that face less evil. There's nothing clownish about 6 million dead. While I'm at it, memo to James Austin Johnson of SNL: Your Trump send-up is spot on, except that it's not. You get the buffoon part right - but in doing so, you inadvertently downplay the true evil of what he is saying. By making it sound like garden-variety dementia, you neutralize the venom, and in doing so, we laugh at what should appall us. We already know that he fancies the idea of injecting industrial cleaner into our veins. He's a stickler on getting out those nasty stains wherever they are - even in the bloodstream. We know that every word - every syllable of every word - MUST be taken seriously. And any politician, journalist, influencer, entertainer or religious leader who is not screaming this to high heavens deserves the (man-made) hellfire that will certainly consume this country if Donald Trump is elected. I make this pledge: As we turn the page to 2024, even if I need to harp on this every week, I will not let a single abomination from his lips pass without comment. If not now, when? Watch Der Fuhrer's Face (make sure subtitles are activated). See more about this propaganda cartoon. And Ohioans, please insist that Senator Vance read this pertinent section from Mein Kamp (below). I'd be interested to know what he is thinking is so "objectively true" about the "poisonous" blood of immigrants. From Mein Kampf A Moment of Unfathomable Grace and Humanity In his daily missive, Daniel Gordis features the video above, a message from Iris Haim to the soldiers in the unit who accidentally shot her son as he was desperately trying to escape Hamas captivity, which has riveted Israeli hearts and minds since it went viral on Instagram.  Noa Tishby Rebuts Greta Thunberg Click on posting to watch YouTube Israel's Front Pages Jerusalem Post Ha'aretz Yediot Ahronot Ha'aretz Daily Summary State of the Synagogue... (30 years ago) At the conclusion of each programming year, I used to lay out my "State of the Synagogue" with a focus on religion and education, youth and social (the president would give the financial report). Here is one from exactly 30 years ago, in 1994. You can see some of the dreams we had then and assess how those aspirational strategies have withstood the test of time. (To see a clear pdf of these pages and see the rest of that bulletin, including some notable b'nai mitzvah, click here).  It was a time of great ambition and growth. Our membership had ballooned to an all-time high (at that time) of over 700 families, having gained 120 new families in the prior two years since my becoming senior rabbi. It's hard to recall that we averaged easily 50 attendees on a Shabbat morning when there were no B’nai Mitzvah (we did have lots of B'nai Mitzvah) and sustained that growth for many years, assisted by home-cooked lunches whipped up by our Shabbat committee. We had multiple children’s services each week, plus Tot Shabbats on Friday nights. Some of what we did then can be replicated now, though some of the demographic headwinds now are more challenging.  And of course. success should never be measured based on numbers alone, but however you measure it, Shabbat took its rightful place as the center, the spoke of our spiritual and social wheel. Everything else revolved around it and was strengthened by it. Here’s how I spoke of Shabbat mornings back in 1994: Looking back at that 1994 report, you can also read how we established havurot (friendship groups) and had our first healing service, to reach people where they were at. They were very successful at the time. We also had congregational trips, including a trip to Israel that summer.   It was at this time that secular Jewish organizations were returning to the notion that the synagogue is the prime address for Jewish identity.  And here in Stamford we partnered with our federation and other synagogues to make that happen. As I wrote back then: Here’s how I concluded my State of the Synagogue report for 1994: It's always been important to aim high as a community but also understand that ultimately, success can not be measured by collective achievements but rather by the flourishing of each individual, each in his/her/their own way, through the relationships and support systems nurtured here. As a bonus, click here for another bulletin from Jan/Feb of that same year, 1994. And check out this very timely article below by a certain 12th grader who, we knew even then, could someday become president...of TBE, as she will, God willing, very soon.  And while we're kvelling over the writings of former and current students, read this superb dvar Torah from last week's Bat Mitzvah, Millie Avnir (and watch the video too!) And read this piece, "Tragedy Strikes: How Connecticut is Responding to the Israel-Hamas Conflict," written for a journalism class by current high school student and the TBE alum, Yael Everett. We're so proud of all our students, from the oldest to the youngest, especially as they navigate this complicated world that we live in! Friday is the Fast of Tevet, a minor fast but major curiosity, commemorating an obscure event in Jewish history that doesn't seem to tragic at all - the translation of the Torah into Greek, known as the Septuagint, in Alexandria, in the 3rd century BCE. Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin explains why it is considered a tragedy. It has also been adopted as a generic Yahrzeit date for Holocaust victims, many of whom died on unspecified dates. Why is Starbucks being targeted by activists for both Israel and Gaza? (Forward) Protesters chanting “Starbucks supports genocide” have made headlines; vandalism has disrupted business in many locations – the latest incident was Wednesday in Brooklyn. At the same time, the world’s largest coffee chain has also been hit with boycotts and harassment from those supporting Israel. The reason it’s being attacked from both sides? Our Beth Harpaz explains Author Dan Greenberg is dead - Best known for the '60s book, "How to Be a Jewish Mother." which perfectly embodied the spirit of Jewish humor (read: guilt) of the "Portnoy's Complaint" era. It was the best selling nonfiction book in the U.S. in 1965, capturing the national zeitgeist at a time when "Fiddler" was also taking Broadway by storm. You can read Greenberg's entire book online, and learn the secrets to a Jewish mother's success, like how to make guilt work: Underlying all techniques of Jewish Motherhood is the ability to plant, cultivate and harvest guilt. Control guilt and you control the child. An old folk saw says: "Beat a child every day; if you don't know what he's done to deserve the beating, he will." A slight modification gives us the Jewish Mother's Cardinal Rule: "Let your child hear you sigh every day; if you don't know what he's done to make you suffer,  he will." Once you've mastered that, you are ready to move on to the "Technique of Basic Suffering." To master the Technique of Basic Suffering you should begin with an intensive study of the Dristan commercials on television. Pay particular attention to the face of the actor who has not yet taken Dristan. Note the squint of the eyes, the furrow of the brow, the downward curve of the lips-the pained expression which can only come from eight undrained sinus cavities or severe gastritis. This is the Basic Facial Expression. Learn it well. Practice it before a mirror several times a day. If someone should catch you at it and ask what you are doing, say: "I'm fine, it's nothing at all, it will go away." This should be said softly but audibly, should imply suffering without expressing it openly. When properly executed, this is the Basic Tone of Voice. The book is still very funny, in part because ethnic stereotypes like the Jewish mother are making a comeback, even though Jewish mothers have long since stopped being "Jewish mothers," and all the guilt that came with the rapid assimilation of that post-immigrant generation has long since melted away. We have plunged fully into the Melting Pot, but nostalgia is a powerful thing. See more below, from his classic book, How to be a Jewish Mother. Another great moment, from the archives, 1988 See Fred and Joan Weisman, Frieda and Sam Kravitz, Dick Fisher and Charles Boodman along with myself and Mara Click to see the article enlarged Temple Beth El 350 Roxbury Road Stamford, Connecticut 06902 203-322-6901 | www.tbe.org    A Conservative, Inclusive, Spiritual Community

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