When a synagogue becomes the site of terror on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, Jews everywhere feel it deep within our core.

Many of us spent nearly the entire day in our synagogues — spaces that should only ever be sacred sanctuaries for prayer and reflection. Some learned of the attack on the Heaton Park Hebrew Congregation in Manchester, England, in real time, others not till our fasts concluded.

I was in Israel with family and learned of the attack from a nephew, a relatively recent oleh from the UK, as we were just breaking our fast. The day’s spiritual high instantly dimmed by the agonizing reality that, once again, Jews were attacked simply for being Jews.

In New York, the NYPD stepped up security, a protection we accept with enormous gratitude but a kind of resignation, too.

It should not have to be like this. 

While what happened in England was devastating, as Rabbi Sir Ephraim Mirvis, the UK’s chief rabbi, shared, it is sadly no longer a surprise: 

“… This is the day we hoped we would never see, but which deep down, we knew would come. For so long we have witnessed an unrelenting wave of Jew hatred on our streets, on campuses, on social media and elsewhere — this is the tragic result. This is not only an assault on the Jewish community, but an attack on the very foundations of humanity and the values of compassion, dignity and respect which we all share…"

As has been reported, an even greater tragedy was averted by the courage of Rabbi Daniel Walker and the security staff, who barricaded the doors, preventing the terrorist from entering. The training they received from the UK's Community Security Trust — on which we modeled our own Community Security Initiative — likely saved many lives.

We pray for the victims, the wounded, and the Jewish community of the United Kingdom. May they know that the Jewish people everywhere share their grief.

On Monday evening, we’ll begin the celebration of Sukkot, attending services in our synagogues. We will not cower or stay away. We will show up with the same dignity and strength we wish for the Jews of Manchester. And we will sit in our sukkahs — fragile, impermanent huts, a reminder of the 40 years the Israelites wandered in the desert after leaving Egypt.

We have lived the sukkahs’ symbolic fragility every day for nearly 730 days now.

On Tuesday, we will mark two years since October 7, an unfathomable milestone.

Two years of war. Two years of hostages in the tunnels of Gaza. Two years of shattered families waiting for their return. Two years of soldiers killed in battle. Of reservists and their families facing the upheaval and constant worry that comes with frequent calls to service. Of Jewish hate spreading around the world.

And yet, even now, our hope for better days is undiminished.

In Tel Aviv, where I spent Yom Kippur, despite what has been endured the last two years — or more likely, because of it — there were impromptu minyanim all around, bringing together secular and religious of every age and background, many of whom — prior to October 7 — would never have fathomed being at a Yom Kippur service together.

Over 3,000 people gathered for tefillah in Hostage Square.

Adjacent to the beach in Tel Aviv, one gathering drew 1,000 for Kol Nidre, swelling to over 5,000 for Neilah.

Because at our most vulnerable, we want nothing more than to be together. To draw strength from one another. Praying shoulder to shoulder together in all our diversity.

At my synagogue, as in so many others in Israel, we concluded the Yom Kippur services with Hatikvah and L’shanah Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim (“Next Year in Jerusalem”) with a depth of intensity and emotion that moved me to tears.

This is what it means to be a people who have not given up hope.

Not for 2,000 years.

Not for 730 days. 

This is what moves us to hope that the Jewish community of Manchester will find healing.

Hope that the new negotiations will bring an end to this war.

Hope that all the hostages will come home at last.

Hope that Jewish hatred will abate.

Hope that this year will be one of peace for Israel and greater security for Jews everywhere.

Shabbat shalom and chag sameach from Israel