From Our CEO - Archive

Dear JCC Community, 
 
This week, we will read one of the most dramatic Torah portions of the year. The people of Israel gather at Mount Sinai. God descends in a haze of fire and thunder to convey the Ten Commandments, and the people respond with an enthusiastic agreement to obey all that is being commanded.

There is a troubling undercurrent to this story. The Israelites forge their identity as a people because it has been thrust upon them—literally—from above. An ancient rabbinic teaching goes further, suggesting that God threatened the people by holding Mount Sinai above their heads, telling them that if they did not accept the Torah, the mountain would come down and strike them. 
 
What does it mean to accept a tradition under duress, or fear? Have we really accepted it? 
What happens when we stop feeling afraid? Do we then leave behind who we are?
 
But the rabbinic teaching continues. Several centuries later, when the Jewish people were victorious over Haman (a victory we celebrate on Purim), they once more accepted the obligations of their ancestors' covenant at Mount Sinai. This time they did so willingly and with pride. 
 
The two acceptances of the Torah are reflective of the two ways in which we can approach our own identity: either as a consequence of fear and coercion or as an act of love and faith.
 
Many of us have felt a great deal of fear lately. We have sought safety and comfort in our experience of peoplehood. This is necessary, but it is only a fraction of what Jewish peoplehood has to offer us. 
 
Accepting upon ourselves the covenant our ancestors freely chose emboldens and empowers us. Embracing the rituals and teachings of our tradition fills our lives with meaning and delight. Being together in community enables us to regain some sense of our humanity, and helps us look forward with hope. 
 
Accepting the sacred responsibility of who we are—willingly, proudly, and openheartedly—is an act of love and faith. Let's choose that.
 
Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community, 

At the start of this week’s Torah portion, God hears the cry of the enslaved Israelite people and instructs Moses to go to them with a message: 
 
“I will free you from the suffering of Egypt. 
I will deliver you from bondage. 
I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with extraordinary measures. 
I will take you to be My people.”

These four promises of redemption, which we symbolize each year at our Passover Seder tables with four cups of wine, encompass both physical and spiritual redemption.
 
The first three promises are inherently physical: freedom from the labor of slavery, deliverance from the bondage of Egypt, and an exodus from the land of our enslavement. The fourth stage of redemption, the promise to be a holy people, is spiritual. The fourth stage tells us implicitly that it is not enough to be physically free. We must also be connected to a purpose that is larger than ourselves.
 
We mark a solemn occasion this weekend: 100 days since October 7th, 100 days of captivity for over 130 hostages in Gaza. On this most anguish-filled anniversary, we long for the promises of physical redemption that God offered to the Israelites in Egypt. We long for the safe return of the hostages, and an end to violence. We must, like our enslaved ancestors, cry out until we are heard.
 
In doing this, perhaps we will remind ourselves that the Torah’s promise of spiritual redemption already lives and breathes in our souls. We are indeed part of something larger than ourselves: a people, a purpose, and a promise for a better world.
 
Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community, 

At the beginning of any other year, I would start this message with a festive “Happy New Year!” But this year, that greeting somehow misses the mark. Our world continues to feel quite heavy, and the optimism with which one might normally greet a new year feels eclipsed by events both in Israel and closer to home.

So, instead, I want to greet you by offering an invitation: Come and sing with me.

Why? Because singing has a way of transcending our normal lives, transporting us to a deeper, more spiritual existence. Songs, and even wordless melodies, can evoke emotions in us that we don't usually allow ourselves to feel: uninhibited optimism and unbearable pain, gratitude and guilt, true despair and absolute devotion.

There is something uniquely special, almost magical, about singing in community. It could be the overlapping outpouring of profound emotions from all corners of a room. It could be the experience of standing in complete solidarity with other people for the length of a single song. Perhaps it’s simply witnessing the way music can effortlessly build strong bridges and knock down barriers. The Jerusalem Youth Chorus, which brings together Israeli and Palestinian teens in communal singing, is a prime example of music's awesome power as a building block of community.

Let's be together in these early days of the new year, singing and hoping, looking inward and also outward toward the future we long for. This Saturday night at 6 pm, we will resume our weekly Havdalah to pray for the hostages, with a song circle led by the talented Shimon Smith. For just a single hour, we will raise our voices together—in solidarity, in community, and in the hope of a more peaceful year. 

Happy New Year and Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community,

Sometimes, people exceed our expectations. They show a strength of character we did not know they possessed, or they exhibit a previously unseen moral clarity.

One such person is Judah, the fourth son of the Biblical patriarch Jacob, whom we read about this week in the Torah portion. Judah, once the ringleader in selling Joseph to captivity, now offers himself up as a prisoner in order to spare his younger brother Benjamin from a similar fate. While this is not the first or the last act of leadership we see from Judah, this story speaks of a significant development in his character. The Judah who risks his own life to save his brother is a far cry from the man who, some years previously, treated Joseph so cruelly.

The fact that Judah has changed is clear to all, and especially to Joseph. In one of the Torah’s most powerful scenes, Joseph is overcome with emotion, breaking down in tears, and then reconciles with his family. At a moment that almost led to the family losing another son and breaking apart, Judah’s actions serve as an important reminder that people can change and that circumstances can change.

As we near the close of this challenging year, and as we hold out hope for better days ahead, let us please remember this. Even when all seems bleak, someone’s courage or vision might shine through the darkness. Unexpected heroes rise to the occasion. Unexpected acts of generosity can change the world for the better. And as the days get longer, and as we sense the early stirrings of a new year, may we find those sparks of optimism within ourselves and our community.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

P.S. We will be taking a short pause from our weekly Havdalah over the next two weeks, and we will resume on January 6. Also resuming on January 6, from 2 to 5 pm, is our R&R Programming—an amazing Shabbat experience for anyone and everyone.

Dear JCC Community,

This Shabbat, we will read the Torah portion in which the Egyptian Pharaoh has a troubling dream about seven sturdy cows being overcome by seven gaunt cows. Pharaoh is unable to find an adequate interpretation of his dream, and so he sends for Joseph. It is Joseph, an imprisoned foreigner, who is able to see past the shallow facts to understand the deeper meaning: that God is about to send the world into seven years of bounty, followed by seven years of famine. 

Joseph’s abilities are not unique to biblical times. Some people are able to see past the surface, able to interpret the world in a deeper way. By doing so, they make us reconsider what we think, what we feel, and what we know. This ability has had many names over the course of history. The Torah calls Joseph an interpreter of dreams. Today, we might call such people artists.

This Saturday night, as we again come together for our Havdalah for the Hostages, we will host two people whose work has enabled us to see our own world with greater depth: Nitzan Mintz and Dede Bandaid, the two Israeli artists who designed the “Kidnapped” posters that cover hundreds of spaces in our city and throughout the world.

These posters, brilliant in their simplicity, have evoked great emotions. They have brought the plight of the hostages to life, ensuring we see that these captives are individual human beings: mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, and friends. The posters also have revealed the contentious and sometimes hate-filled atmosphere that has permeated our city and country. These simple pieces of paper have told us multiple stories. They have enabled us to see deeper truths about the complexity of human beings.

Dede and Nitzan are beloved members of the JCC family, having designed and created the JCC’s sidewalk Sukkah—Shelter—in 2019. I am honored to host their return and hope you will join me in the JCC lobby tomorrow at 5:30 pm. 

And as Shabbat begins, may we each slow down so that the deeper meanings and the deeper messages might enter our tired souls.
 

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community,

Happy Chanukah! I want to share two things with you. The first is a request, and the second is…also a request!

Here’s the first: One of our incredible JCC members has been deeply moved by all of the ways that the JCC is showing up for the community and for Israel. In response, she has pledged a generous dollar-for-dollar match up to $25,000 in support of our David H. Sonabend Center for Israel. I invite you to join in the JCC’s comprehensive efforts to support our community during this unprecedented time. You can make a gift of any size here.

The second request begins with a short teaching.

Last night, we welcomed Chanukah by lighting the first of eight candles. The Talmud teaches us that we add a candle to our menorahs each of the eight nights of the holiday. We do this because, according to Jewish thought, one should always seek to bring light and more holiness into the world, and we should never do less. In Hebrew, this concept is called ma’alin bakodesh v’ein moridin—we rise in holiness, and we do not diminish it. 

At this moment, this is difficult to practice. Our energy is not endless; our focus shifts from day to day, and in times of crisis, we feel the need to hunker down and just try to get through each day. I want to honor that impulse in myself and for all of us. These are difficult days.

And yet, I pray. I pray for each one of us that the simple act of lighting our candles and watching their flickering flames against the dark night will have a positive impact. I pray that this holiday of light will enable our emotional aperture to be opened ever so slightly and that we will see the resilience, strength, and beauty of our community.

And so the second request is this: If the experience of lighting candles this year helps you to rise a bit in holiness—to feel slightly calmer, or more hopeful, or more connected—please tell me by responding to this email. I would love to hear from you. Together we will rise, bit by bit.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Urim Sameach,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community,

Yesterday, a gentle and generous friend asked me this question: During these difficult days, who is taking care of you?
 
I paused, ready to offer my standard answer: family, friends, and colleagues—all of which, by the way, are thankfully true.
 
But in that pause, I realized that something else is taking care of me.
 
Jewish peoplehood is taking care of me.
 
What is Jewish peoplehood? It is the affirmation that we are, in fact, a people. We have a diversity of religious outlook, race, language, culture, political viewpoint, and family structure. And yet, across borders and across circumstances, we have a unique connection and responsibility to each other.
 
I know I am not the only one who watched and rewatched the videos of the hostages returning to their families. When I witnessed the fierceness of those embraces, the breathless shrieks of shock and joy, the sobbing, I was gripped by feelings of pure relief and emotion. And then, not a moment later, I would draw in my breath once more, as I remembered anew the great anguish of those still held captive and the enormous pain of their families.
 
These terrible weeks have shown us the extent to which we carry each other's burdens. They have also shown us the deep joy we feel as those burdens are lifted.
 
The Talmud teaches that “anyone who is distressed together with the community will merit seeing the consolation of the community” (Taanit, 11a). This is the essence of peoplehood—we grieve together, and we worry together. And by these acts of solidarity, across borders and across diverse populations, we merit hoping and rejoicing together. May the days of consolation and joy come quickly.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community,

In the blessing before reciting the Shema, we affirm: “Blessed are You, God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of light and darkness, Maker of peace, Creator of all things.”

The Rabbis of the Talmud wondered why we should thank God for light and darkness. Should we not simply avoid mentioning the darkness, with all its negative associations? Rava, a fourth century Rabbi, responds simply: light and darkness—day and night—must be mentioned together, as if to say they are two parts of the same whole.

Thanksgiving this year made me think of Rava’s statement.

Our weary and tired hearts are holding both the light and the darkness. We are breathing in with expectation the news that some of the hostages held in Gaza will return home—while we sit with the overwhelming despair for all that is still so broken, including the many hostages that remain. We are dwelling in the afterglow of the Thanksgiving holiday, surely one of our country’s best inventions—while tracking vigilantly the frightening rise of antisemitism that is gripping our nation. In this whiplash of emotion, we are called upon to feel it all, and to feel it deeply.

Jewish tradition teaches us that times of great joy and times of great sadness must be experienced in community. The presence of others enhances our happiness, and it holds our grief. As we move through these days of simultaneous, intense light and darkness, we must remember that this, too, is what community is made for. Here at the JCC, we will keep at it, all together, wringing light out of darkness, and standing together in hope.

I am thankful to lead this community, and for all that we do, together. Thank you for all the ways that you help to make that possible. If you are moved to do so, please make a gift to the JCC.
 

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

 Dear JCC Community,

Why was Tuesday’s March for Israel so powerful?
 
Maybe because 300,000 people were there (including 600 from the JCC!), and another 200,000 watched it on livestream. Maybe because being in such a large crowd gave us an embodied experience of solidarity at a time when we need to see it, hear it, and feel it. Maybe because the speakers—Jewish and non-Jewish, Republican and Democrat—spoke with a clear message of support. Maybe because the many musicians uplifted us with their powerful performances. Maybe because it was loud and crowded and boisterous.
 
In truth, the most powerful moment of the march for me was when the enormous crowd became silent as 300,000 people listened with rapt attention to the family members of the hostages. We stood together, barely breathing, as anguished parents and family members reminded us what is at stake for them and for all humanity: the lives of individuals, beloved human beings—each one a parent, sibling, child, relative, or friend. Each one a world.
 
In the days following, I have reconnected to the words of these heroic individuals and the truth embedded in the collective silence that took in their enormous grief.
 
And so I want to ask you to do something, and it will only take one minute.
 
And it will make a difference.
 
We must keep attention on the plight of the hostages. The Hostages and Missing Families Forum, formed by the families of those being held hostage in Gaza, has told us that one of the most powerful ways to have an impact is to make sure our elected officials stay focused on the hostages.
 
So right now, wherever you are, do this. Call your elected officials right now. All the instructions are here. It will take less than one minute. It will make a difference—for the 240 human beings being held as hostages, for their families, whose pain is unimaginable, and for ourselves. We can act from this place of despair. We can make a difference. We can and we must.
 
Then, do two more things if you are so inclined. Tell me that you did it, either by responding to this email, or by joining me tomorrow for Havdalah in the JCC lobby at 5:30 pm. There, we will once again sing into being a new week. And once we have completed Havdalah and sung Hatikvah, we will each take out our phones, call our elected officials together, and begin again to bring this world back to sanity, humanity, and peace. I believe in you, and I believe in us.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear JCC Community,

Late last evening, I connected with a friend over text and asked her how she was doing. This has felt like a fraught question to ask during these challenging weeks, and so I have often tried to figure out other ways to greet people. But in my own state of near-exhaustion, I failed to apply this filter of intention and sensitivity.
 
“How are you?”
Her reply? “Very good!”
“Really?” I replied.
“Yes!” she wrote. “Today I remembered to breathe.”
 
Like the strange phenomenon whereby when someone yawns, everyone around them yawns as well, her brief text made me pause my multi-tasking-scrolling-thinking-worrying state of being. I breathed deeply, and then I breathed again. And for good measure, because I remember once learning this in a yoga class, I breathed for a third time.
 
I hope you are breathing now, too. One more time. And one more time.
 
There is a beautiful prayer said on Shabbat called Nishmat kol chai, that affirms that the breath of all living things is a form of praise. This most basic building block of being a sentient being—inhaling and exhaling—is itself a declaration of holiness. We need this reminder, always and especially now.
 
The intensity of living in this moment has left many of us, at times, breathless with worry, sadness, and anguish. But the coming days will bring opportunities, too, for rest and renewal. As Shabbat begins this evening, please take a moment to breathe. Put down your phone (for real!), and breathe again, and one more time to make it count.
 
And as Shabbat ends tomorrow evening, join me once again in the JCC lobby at 5:30 pm for Havdalah. Together, we will sing and breathe into being a new week—one more time, and one more time after that. May it be one of good news for each of us, and our broken world.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

​Dear JCC Community,

As we come to the end of another difficult week and approach the one-month anniversary of the October 7th massacre, there is much we do not know. When will the 240 hostages—men, women, children, babies, and elderly—be returned? When will the war in Gaza end, and what will be the outcome? What will be the cost? Will the hateful antisemitism that has been unleashed in these recent weeks be contained? How will we regain trust and the fullness of our humanity?

There is so much that we do not know. There is so much anxiety, fear, anger, and anguish that we hold. But I know three things, and I want you to know them, too.

Here’s the first thing I know: This is not the end of the story. The burden of these terrible days will not last forever. Jewish tradition teaches us that we are never at the end of the story. In the Book of Exodus, God introduces God-self to Moses with the words, “I will be that which I will be.” We learn from this that the order of the universe is in constant motion and that a new story is unfolding in each moment. Indeed, our lives teach us that nothing stays the same for too long, good or bad. These are very difficult days, but the story does not end here.

Here’s the second thing I know: The Torah gave the world the gift of Shabbat, a weekly break from work and commerce and creation. This opportunity to take one day devoted to rest, enjoyment, and community belongs to all of us. Receive this gift this week, please. How? Here’s one idea: take a break from social media and from scrolling through the news. Just take a break. It will all be there when you get back, I promise. Let this be a Shabbat of rest from the algorithm. (And maybe invite a few friends over for Shabbat dinner.)

Here’s the third thing I know: Community is everything. Many of us have our hearts and minds focused on Israel, toward millions of people whom we have never met. This is what it means to be part of a community. If you feel the pain of peoplehood, please also feel its strength by being together in community. Join me tomorrow evening in the JCC lobby at 6:30 pm for a song-filled Havdalah as we pray for the immediate release of the hostages. And then, join us Tuesday evening as we come together as an UWS Jewish community to mark the 30-day period since the October 7th massacre in Israel, once again, in song and in solidarity. And you will find additional opportunities below.

What do we know?

The story does not end here.
Shabbat is a gift to all of us: receive it.
Community is everything.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer​

Dear JCC Community,

This week, Jewish communities worldwide will read Parshat Lech-Lecha, the Torah portion that tells the beginning of the story of the Jewish people.
 
God said to Abram, “Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.
I will make of you a great nation,
And I will bless you;
I will make your name great,
And you shall be a blessing.”
(Genesis 12:1–2)
 
Torah commentators across the centuries have puzzled over the Hebrew phrase lech-lecha. It is usually translated as “go forth,” but is more accurately translated as “go forth for yourself.” What does it mean to “go forth for yourself?” Rashi, the 11th-century commentator, teaches this means “for your own benefit, for your own good.” This suggests that Abraham's journey was a solo one, designed for his own purpose.
 
These early verses hint that the story of Abraham will be a classic hero’s journey: a person leaves his home for an adventure, facing obstacles and adventures while on the path to greater personal insight. But the Torah quickly teaches us that Abraham took his family with him—his wife Sarai (who will be renamed Sarah) and his nephew Lot. Soon, there are more members of the household: children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A family becomes a clan. Indeed, by the end of the book of Genesis, this once small unit has grown to be a numerous tribe. 
 
In these challenging days, we might take this message to heart. Our foundational story is not that of an individual person; it is that of a people and of a community. The ancient stories of the Torah affirm a powerful truth: we are not alone, and we are not meant to be alone. 
 
With this in mind, please join me tomorrow evening in the JCC lobby at 6:30 pm for a special havdalah,* the closing ritual of Shabbat, as we sing, pray, and stand together as a community to pray for the release of the 222 men, women, and children being held as hostages in Gaza.
 
May we each fulfill our own hero’s journey in community, as members of a family, a tribe, a clan, a people, a humanity. It is together that we will gain greater insight, strength, and solace.
 
Shabbat Shalom and see you tomorrow evening,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

*Havdalah, or “separation” in Hebrew, is Shabbat’s closing ritual, when three stars appear on Saturday evening. In a simple multi-sensory ceremony, with blessings over lights, wine or grape juice, and spices, Havdalah is an inspiring way to end Shabbat and start the new week.

Dear JCC Community,

One of my clearest memories of the early days of the pandemic was in late March 2020, when I was sitting on my couch watching a video a friend sent me. By that point in March, I had seen many videos, all disturbing: people walking through eerily empty neighborhoods, people lined up outside of overflowing emergency rooms, and people shuttering their stores and businesses without any knowledge of when they would return.

But this one was different. This was a video of a woman standing on her balcony in Northern Italy, singing. As the camera panned out, other balconies came into view, each with a person on it, listening to the majestic sounds of this impromptu al fresco opera. At the end of the short aria, the singer smiled and took a dramatic bow. All of her neighbors applauded wildly, shouting brava, brava!

A second video came hours later, courtesy of a friend in Israel. This one, too, started with a singer on a balcony, this time in Jerusalem. He began the words of the Shabbat prayer, Yedid Nefesh, and soon, the camera zoomed out to others standing on their balconies, singing along. The solo voice became a kind of chorus as other voices joined in. Soon, my voice instinctively joined in, Maher ahuv, ki va moed, v'choneni kimei olam (Quickly, my love, the time has come; have mercy on me forever). Hunkered down in my home, my children stir-crazy in Zoom school, I remember having one very clear thought: "Humanity will prevail."

These past weeks, as our community has confronted unbearable pain, loss, and fear, we have had to seek out signs of humanity and hope. To do so, we have leaned into two powerful tools: community and song.

As we have gathered our community for events, small and large, Shabbat meals, conversations, lectures, vigils, briefings, and concerts, we have made a point to include music. Singing Oseh Shalom or Hatikvah together or listening to the haunting words of HaChitah Tzomachat Shuv (The Wheat Will Grow Again) helps us to calm our nervous souls and open our hearts. Sometimes, those moments of song bring floods of tears; other times, they help us to feel the thick bonds of community. Often, they do both.

In the coming weeks. I invite you to join us as our community continues to gather together—in hope, and in song.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officera

Dear JCC Community,

One week ago, I recounted how joyful our Sukkot celebrations were here at the JCC, and I shared my hopes for a year ahead of optimism, purpose, and hope.

What a tragic difference a week makes. Our world has turned upside down after the barbaric, brutal attacks in Southern Israel. So many of us are still reeling from the shock, the grief, the anger, and the despair. How could this be? How could this happen? What will the coming weeks bring for our brothers and sisters in Israel? What will the future look like?

In this terrible time, we must hold close to community, seeking each other out with kindness and resolve. For inspiration on how to do this, we need to look no further than the Israeli people, who are not waiting around passively to find out what the future holds. They are already creating it out of their tears and out of their stubborn hope. Still in shock, still in grief, still in fear, still awaiting the fate of 130 hostages in Gaza, the Israeli public has mobilized.

As Israeli writer Ilana Blumberg recounted, "Blood dona­tion lines in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv are so long that people stand for hours. Kids to teens to adults not called up to army service are cook­ing and pack­ing and deliv­er­ing food to soldiers. Peo­ple are offering beds and homes and apart­ments to families and now half-families and lone sur­vivors from the south. We are helping Bedouin communities with children who lost par­ents in the bat­tles in the south. I find out from a pho­to of my son hold­ing a pup­pet that he was busy enter­tain­ing chil­dren whose par­ents are doc­tors and that he spent hours with his friends clean­ing hotel rooms to get ready for the 1,100 people from the south who would be sleep­ing there on Mon­day..." Israel Story, the largest and most-listened to Jewish and Israeli podcast, is offering to record every family member of a missing person.

In these heroic efforts, we learn what it means to seek to restore order and to restore humanity.

At the JCC, we affirm our ongoing solidarity with the Israeli people and our hopes for a more humane and peaceful world. Monday evening, we brought together 1,300 people for a prayer and solidarity vigil. Throughout the week, we have held gatherings, small and large, to convene our community and be present for each other. Tonight, we will host a Shabbat dinner with Israeli guests and facilitated conversations. On Sunday, we will hold a concert, Harmony for Israel: A Symphony of Solidarity. And next week will bring more opportunities to join together, to hold each other up in these terrible times, and to keep our hearts and our prayers and our efforts facing eastward.

And the week after, and the week after that.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer

Dear Community,

On Shabbat afternoon, over one hundred of us joined together in the lobby of the JCC to show solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Israel. The words of Israel's national anthem, Hatikva, reverberated within our walls:

As long as within our hearts
The Jewish soul sings,
As long as forward to the East
To Zion, looks the eye –
Our hope is not yet lost,
It is two thousand years old,
To be a free people in our land
The land of Zion and Jerusalem.

The Marlene Meyerson JCC Manhattan stands firmly with the people of Israel and the broad Jewish community in condemning Hamas' horrific terrorism and violence. We are steadfast in our commitment to the people of Israel. 

Our hearts are heavy with pain as the news of this tragedy unfolds. We know that many in our community are impacted personally; many fear for the safety of family and friends. The JCC will continue to support our local community and our partners in Israel.

Please join us in the lobby of the JCC on Monday–Thursday from 4–6 pm for coffee, conversation, and community support. And in the coming days we will be in touch with details regarding a community-wide gathering.

Fifty years after the Yom Kippur War, we again face the horrors of war and the destruction of innocent lives. We hear with renewed longing the words and melody of Hatikvah:

Our hope is not yet lost,
It is two thousand years old,
To be a free people in our land
The land of Zion and Jerusalem

We pray for the safety of our brothers and sisters in harm's way, and we believe that all innocent people deserve a life free from senseless violence.

May lasting peace soon prevail,

Rabbi Joanna Samuels
Chief Executive Officer