Independence Day 250 Redeemed: A Rabbi's message

July 4, Year 250: Redeemed

Last night, nearly 100 neighbors from many different faith traditions gathered at Kol Ami for an epic interfaith potluck and Shabbat service.

There was even a Jell-O salad—a true sign of a synagogue interfaith gathering.

There was singing and laughter. Tables overflowing with food. Prayer. Learning. And, perhaps most beautiful of all, I watched people exchange phone numbers. Neighbors were becoming friends.

That is how peace begins.

The goodness of my neighbors filled me.

There are so many good people in this country.

We are a beautifully diverse nation, and diversity asks something of us. It asks us to stretch. Half of our service was in Hebrew—a language most of the room did not know. Yet no one complained. They stayed present. They embraced the unfamiliar. They chose relationship over comfort.

That is a sacred act.

To me, this is what it means to be an American: to extend myself beyond my own tribe for the sake of a greater common good.

The Torah teaches, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” It does not say, “Love only the neighbor who votes like you, worships like you, looks like you, or speaks your language.” It simply says: Love your neighbor.

Because every human being is b’tzelem Elohim—created in the image of God.

I believe that.

I believe God created this world with extraordinary goodness, and every day we are given another opportunity to choose that goodness over fear, cynicism, and division.

I believe in our nation—not because we are perfect, but because we are always capable of becoming better.

The work of America has never been to erase our differences. It has been to weave them into something stronger than any one of us could create alone.

Your neighbor is the person standing right in front of you. The one whose story you do not yet know. The one who may challenge you, stretch you, or even make you uncomfortable. The one through whom God may be inviting you to grow.

Last night, we redeemed Independence Day by opening our doors for Shabbat.

On America’s 250th birthday, freedom means more than independence. It means the freedom to welcome. The freedom to listen. The freedom to build tables longer than our walls are high. The freedom to create communities where everyone has a place.

When America celebrates her 500th birthday, I pray she will be filled to the brim with neighbors of every faith, race, culture, orientation, and background—people who have learned that our diversity is not a weakness but one of God’s greatest gifts.

May we continue to become a nation where justice and compassion meet, where strangers become neighbors, where neighbors become friends, and where together we help repair the world.

Happy 250th birthday, America.

May God bless our neighbors. And may God bless the work of becoming one people.