At the playground one evening this week, a young girl—unprompted—walked up to our child and asked: “Will you be my friend?” After a long day in a terrifying week, this simple gesture reminded me that there is still light in the world.
Since the start of this war with Iran, I’ve been on edge. Many of us have. A chevruta (study partner) of mine, a former journalist turned rabbi, said this week: “We’ve been waiting for this for 30 or 40 years. We are all on alert.” It feels like a threshold has been crossed.
Tuesday night, we gathered as a community for a powerful program on Liberal Zionism with my teacher, Rabbi Dan Judson, Provost of Hebrew College. We held space to pray and to speak honestly. One JCOGS member told me she’s barely sleeping—awake in the night, refreshing the news from Israel. I know she is not alone. This week, I am especially thinking about all of you who live in Israel with connections to Vermont and to those with family in Israel. To you and all Israelis, we see you and support you in all your fears, in the devastating impact of these strikes, and also in your courage and resilience while under attack by an existential adversary.
As a spiritual community ever aware of the power of prayer, we are all called deeply to pray at this time. Prayer is essential in these terrifying times. It gives voice to our deepest yearnings. It has the power to unite us.
My prayers to our Israeli family: you are never alone. We are here with you in this fearful time. We pray for your safety as you run to the miklat for shelter. We pray for your children serving in the IDF, for your elderly having a hard time getting to shelter at each siren, for those without adequate shelter or proper protection—especially those in the cities being targeted right now. Our prayers are with all the victims of Iran’s attacks. And may the mourners be comforted, and may the injured fully recover. We offer our support.
My heart also extends prayers to civilians in Iran. May they be safe. So too across all Israel, in Gaza, and across the region—each child deserving of peace and security, may it be so.
Some have asked what you can do. As you are likely already doing, like I am, keep reaching out to those who you know in Israel and those with family there.
You can provide meals to Israelis at this time through this remarkable organization, Leket.
Or this initiative is helping to pair Israelis stranded in the US with Shabbat dinner tables.
If you are looking for ways to understand Israeli reality right now, from multiple experiences, I encourage you to listen to these Shalom Hartman podcasts:
The War is Real: A conversation between Donniel Hartman and Yossi Klein Halevi about the emotional and military dimensions of this war.
The Sound and the Fury: A broader exploration of the tension and questions Israelis are asking in real time.
It says in our prayer book, Siddur Lev Shalem: On Shabbat, “we join in community, not of people striving with or against one another, but of people finding each other.” So may we, like that child on the playground, like our friends and family in the shelters, find the courage—even in the darkest of times—sheltered together, to walk toward each other and ask: “Will you be my friend?”
As we join together tonight for Shabbat, may we hold fast to the dream of peace and the possibility of a different future. May our prayers rise for all who are vulnerable. May the suffering of today give way to healing tomorrow.
With love, strength, and hope, Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Fainsilber
Jewish Community of Greater Stowe 1189 Cape Cod Road Stowe, VT 05672
