Dear TBT Family,
This month, I am trying something new. Following my column, you will find a ‘davar acher’, which means another perspective. This is an ancient rabbinic strategy of examining a topic from multiple angles. This month’s davar acher was written by our Kulanu co-chair, Louis King.
November brings both Election Day and the solemn anniversary of Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass. This sobering confluence invites us to reflect on our civic responsibility in light of what history has taken from us.
Kristallnacht is part of a larger story about democratic freedoms that vanished slowly, and then quickly. When life became difficult and grievances went unaddressed, people sought someone to blame—and Jews became the scapegoat. Today, we feel vulnerable once again. Since October 7th, we have too often seen legitimate criticism of Israel and compassion for Palestinians become entangled with something altogether different: the expression of hatred toward Jews as a people, or the holding of Jews collectively responsible for Israel's actions. We have seen this on college campuses and on social media, from across the political spectrum. Amid polarization and acerbic rhetoric, it’s easy to wonder where we fit in public life. But my message is this: we must not abandon our civic responsibility. We must not give in to cynicism.
Three years after October 7th, I feel like an October 8th Jew. That was a lonely day. Where I expected allyship, I found silence. Where I hoped for condemnation of the massacre, I encountered moral equivocation. Almost instantly, the protests began— not against Hamas, but against Israel. That experience was a wake-up call for me. If these three years have taught me anything, it is that no single political figure, party, or ideology can guarantee Jewish safety. When citizens feel their government doesn’t care, they listen to leaders who promise easy remedies—regardless of what is true; regardless of what is democratic. In such climates, political violence gradually becomes an acceptable means of dispute resolution. This is why free and fair elections matter; why voting access for all eligible citizens matters; why the peaceful transfer of power is a bedrock of American liberty. Although it is deeply imperfect, our democratic system has protected us on these shores for over 200 years. It will only continue to do so if we fight to protect it.
While sweeping national tides can feel overwhelming, we can make an immediate impact in our Shoreline communities. We can:
Vote, and defend the right of every eligible citizen to do the same.
Volunteer at the polls (I am always inspired to see my dear colleague and friend, Rabbi Hesch Sommer, volunteering at every Guilford election!).
Support people and organizations that protect the integrity of our democratic process.
Care for the most vulnerable. TBT has lived this mission for decades through our Social Justice Committee and our active partnerships with IRIS, Habitat for Humanity and the Branford Community Dining Room. Volunteer opportunities are ample, so please let me know if you’d like to get involved.
To underscore our commitment this year, Temple Beth Tikvah will participate in the global "Spread the Light" initiative. On the evening of November 9th, we will leave the lights burning in our synagogue overnight. Where Nazi pogroms once sought to defile our sanctuaries and plunge our people into darkness, our beautiful campus will stand as a quiet, defiant testament: Our spirits are bruised, but unbroken; our oath to bring light into a fractured world remains undimmed.
Shalom,
Rabbi Danny Moss
Davar Acher
The Rabbi reminds us of the power of our vote. I want to add a second thought. In March 1933, Germans went to the polls in what would be the last multiparty national election before the Nazi dictatorship consolidated its control. Democratic institutions were already under assault, and the ballot alone could no longer protect the rights of German Jews. After that, the ballot protected no one. What remained was whether ordinary people would speak up. Within weeks, the Nazis organized a boycott of Jewish businesses. In 1935, the Nuremberg Laws stripped Jews of citizenship. In July 1938, thirty-two nations met at Évian and nearly all refused to take in Jewish refugees. Each step tested whether anyone would object, and few did. By November, the glass was broken.
Today, we are living through a rise in antisemitism that has accelerated since October 7th. It is easy to feel overwhelmed, to watch and say nothing. That silence is what hate tests for.
Our answer is to stand up, together. Kulanu, “all of us,” is building allies and speaking to the broader shoreline community about the rise in hatred, so our neighbors understand what we face and stand with us.
The Blue Square is one step each of us can take. It is a visible sign that says: I stand up to Jewish hate. It starts a conversation, every day, and Kulanu will help prepare us for it. We know Rabbi Tarfon’s teaching: we are not required to finish the work, but neither are we free to abandon it. Our vote is one act we complete. This work we never finish. Take the next step. Pick up a Blue Square pin in the lobby.
Louis King, Kulanu Co-Chair