History today is moving at such a dizzying pace that it can feel as though we are straddling two timelines at once.

In the first timeline, we move from one dramatic news development to the next. In the last two weeks alone: The arrest of Nicholas Maduro and U.S. activities in Venezuela. Massive protests sweeping across Iran and the possibility of a U.S. strike on Iran — and/or an Iran strike on Israel. The announced move to Phase 2 in Gaza, with Hamas still not disarmed and Hezbollah rearming. Back at home, an arson attack on the only synagogue in Jackson, Mississippi.

This is the timeline measured in headlines that change overnight.

In contrast, the other timeline moves much more quietly, like a steady heartbeat.

Right now, we're seeing it in Israel, in the ongoing work of healing after October 7 — plans born in trauma now beginning to come to fruition. It makes far fewer headlines, if any. But as I saw firsthand this week, along with over 30 major UJA donors (our largest mission to Israel since October 7), what’s taking place is no less life-changing.

We saw healing and rebuilding at every turn, especially on Wednesday, when we cut the ribbon on the UJA New York Nova House (“Beit Nova”). You can see highlights of the ceremony here.

 

At the Beit Nova ribbon-cutting ceremony

Created with the Tribe of Nova, Beit Nova is a permanent space for the more than 3,500 Nova music festival survivors, along with families of those murdered or taken hostage on October 7. What was once a community shattered by violence is now, with our support, making good on their promise to “dance again.”

Located in a bucolic forest on a 10-acre campus outside Netanya and developed in partnership with Alin Beit Noam for people with disabilities, Beit Nova benefits from world-class facilities. The campus will serve not only the Nova community, but also wounded soldiers, adults with special needs, and the broader public.

The campus itself is unlike anything else in Israel. Accessibility is not about “accommodation”; it's the starting point. Here you will find the country’s first national adventure park for people with disabilities, hallways and doors and huge picture windows designed with wheelchair users in mind, Olympic-size pools, and a sports arena that will serve Paralympians.

To be clear, needs remain urgent. Only 20% of Nova survivors have been able to sustain more than three months of continuous work. Ongoing rehabilitation is critical if they are to find any sense of stability. 

Working with visionary philanthropists, we invested over $15 million to make this complex possible.

At the ceremony, survivors and bereaved family members spoke. Ofir Amir, one of the Nova organizers, who was shot in both legs on October 7 and later helped create the Nova exhibition, no longer walks with the cane he once relied on. He also has a new daughter.

Elkana Bohbot, who spent 738 days in captivity, shared, "When I was in the tunnels, I never stopped thinking of being here, in front of you.”

We also were entertained by the Heart of Nova band, created in April 2025. All the band members are survivors of Nova or family members. The founder of the band, Simo Sela, whose son was killed at Nova on October 7, told us that pain was transformed to song, memory to meaning, and that the band has been an integral part of the collective healing process.

The refrain of one of the songs they performed: “You can’t take me down. You can’t break me down.”

This morning, back in New York City, my newest grandson, Ezra Henry, had his bris, entering a covenant that represents the most enduring, transcendent of timelines.

What will I tell him about the world he entered the week he was born?

That when everything felt uncertain, we chose to help rebuild. That when people were hurting, we showed up to support. In Israel, we created a beautiful oasis for survivors to heal. We sent $100,000 to the Jewish community of Jackson, Mississippi, so that they would know that they aren’t alone.

We lived in a world of constant noise and upheaval and kept working to make it a better place for his generation to inherit.

And we never stopped.

Shabbat shalom