At the beginning of the pandemic, I embarked on a process of reflection with a few rabbinic colleagues about how we might navigate that moment of profound disruption. We were joined in those conversations by colleagues across denominations along with funders and other Jewish professionals.

In addition to meeting on Zoom, messaging each other, and sending lengthy emails, we have held four in-person gatherings since the spring of 2022.

Somewhere along the line, we came up with a name for our group: The Jewish Futures Project (Atidim). We intentionally chose the plural because we wanted to acknowledge the infinite possibilities that were before us.

This past week 20 of us gathered in Princeton, New Jersey to continue the conversation. This time we were forced to respond to the biggest disruption of our lifetimes: October 7 and its aftermath.

I will tell you more in the months ahead about our work, but as we prepare for Shabbat—the first in the month of Nissan, the month of our liberation—I want to share two insights from the past few days.

One is the profound sense of unity I felt and that I believe we need desperately right now. I was inspired by two-and-a-half days in conversation with Rabbis from all over the country representing Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox congregations. I sat with three current Princeton students to hear the perspective of leaders in their early 20s. We learned with outside experts who helped us reflect on the time we find ourselves in which represents, arguably, both the end of a Golden Age for American Jews and, concurrently, a moment of extraordinary possibility. All across North America we are witnessing a tremendous surge in interest for what it is that we offer: support, strength, healing, community, and hope.

At synagogues, Hillels, and other Jewish institutions, our people are showing up in great numbers and telling us that they need their Judaism and Jewish community as never before.

The other insight I gleaned is the extraordinary opportunity and responsibility that confront us now to engage in the beautiful commandment of keiruv. The Hebrew word קירוב literally means “to draw people near.” It has come to represent outreach efforts in the broadest sense from inviting a friend to Shabbat dinner or to your Passover Seder to creating a comprehensive plan to invite or welcome people into Jewish institutions by leading them lovingly along the path of belonging.

Here is my request for this first Shabbat of our month of liberation: commit yourself, for the sake of Jewish unity, to doing one act of keiruv in the next 30 days. You might invite a friend who has been experiencing a health setback to join you for a Shabbat service. Maybe you will forward one of the messages crafted by your Clergy, even this one, to a friend who you think might find it inspiring. Perhaps you will include someone new at your Passover Seder, fulfilling the commandment to let “all who are hungry come and eat.” Maybe you will choose to support—beyond what you are already doing—your synagogue community with a donation in honor of our 60th birthday and gala weekend which we celebrate on Sunday evening. (We cannot do our work without the generosity of time, talent, and treasure of all those who support us.)

There are so many ways to give back and to be involved.

Our community needs each and every one of us and, this I believe with all of my heart, we, each and every one of us, needs our community as well.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Yoshi