This past Saturday, I found myself around a friend’s kitchen table — coffee cups full, chairs pulled close, the comfortable hum of people who trust each other enough to say what they’re really thinking. We gather every Shabbat afternoon after synagogue services. That part wasn’t new.
But this Saturday felt different. We had all woken up to the news: the US and Israel were at war with Iran.
Of course, the conversation turned quickly. To our American soldiers. To Israel. To Iran. To the reality that leaders in Iran have repeatedly and openly called for the destruction of the Jewish state. When language like that is used, it is not abstract for Jews. It doesn’t stay on cable news. It lands somewhere deeper.
Some of us have family in Israel. All of us carry a history that teaches us not to dismiss threats lightly.
And then — almost without missing a beat — we shifted to Purim. What are you dressing up as? Are you going to the synagogue carnival? What are your kids wearing?
The questions sounded normal. But underneath them was something else. An undertone. The question no one said out loud, but everyone was thinking: Will we be safe?
The hostility from Iran’s regime toward Israel and the US is real. The instability is real. The anxiety many of us feel is real.
And still — we keep building Jewish life. We keep building community for all.
Purim tells the story of a people facing an explicit decree of destruction. It is not subtle or symbolic. It is existential. And yet the story does not end in despair. It ends in courage, unity, and action. Esther steps forward. The community fasts together. They organize. They protect one another.
And then they celebrated because they were still here, and they refused to disappear.
That is what our JCC represents to me right now.
The JCC is not just a building with a fitness center, a pool, and camp. It is a declaration that Jewish life will be visible. It will be vibrant. It will be multigenerational. It will be joyful. Most importantly, it is Jewish life lived out loud.
We take security seriously. We are thoughtful and vigilant. That is part of responsible Jewish leadership right now. But fear does not get to define who we are.
Community does. The fact that we can talk about Iran and hamantaschen (a cookie traditionally eaten during Purim) in the same conversation is not denial. It is resilience. It is the refusal to let anyone dictate whether Jewish life continues.
As Purim begins tonight at sundown, may we hold both truths — the weight of the world and the fierce insistence on gathering anyway. May we check in on one another. May we show up. May we keep choosing Jewish life — not quietly, not cautiously — but confidently.
Chag Purim Sameach (Happy Purim!),
Sam Dubrinsky – JCC CEO
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