Two weeks ago, a young woman attended Shabbat services by herself. As I rehearsed music just beforehand, I noticed her looking around to see if there was anyone she might know, and saw her eventually choose a chair far away from where most other folks were seated. While we can never know fully what someone else is feeling, especially without speaking to them, it seemed to me upon first glance that she might be feeling lonely.
Just then, I noticed that one of our board members—who comes to Friday night services almost every week—had arrived. Typically she comes with her husband, but that night, for whatever reason, she too was attending services alone. She also quickly noticed that this young woman had arrived by herself, and without missing a beat, she went up to her to make an introduction. I don’t know exactly what their interaction was, but one certainly couldn’t miss the huge smile spreading across the young woman’s face upon their meeting. They spent the rest of the evening side by side, whispering and singing, enjoying the celebration of Shabbat together. I cannot express what deep joy I felt just witnessing this sweet connection, this living expression of our cherished shared value of inclusivity.
Sometimes we come to Shabbat and need to be alone, to get lost in our thoughts and our prayers. And sometimes, we come to Shabbat because we need our community, we yearn to feel connected, and we want to shed the stress of the week together with our Wise family. Of course, each of us should be allowed to say that we want to be alone, that we are comfortable sitting by ourselves, that we need space for our own prayer and reflection. But when we need someone there, when we need company or an outstretched hand, how wonderful is it to know that at Wise, we will have that offer extended to us? I hope that we will continue to grow our community just like this, one sweet interaction, one lovingly outstretched hand at a time.
—Cantor Emma Lutz