Showing Up for Immigrants: A Shabbat of Solidarity

As I prepare to begin my sabbatical, I find myself reflecting on what it means to be a part of a Jewish community that not only prays and learns together, but also shows up—to stand up for justice, compassion, and the dignity of every human being.

On Friday night, June 20, while I will be away, Kol Ami will be hosting a special Shabbat potluck and interfaith service in partnership with HIAS and local faith organizations. This gathering is part of Together in Welcome, a nationwide initiative led by HIAS to unite people of all backgrounds in support of immigrants and refugees.

For those unfamiliar with HIAS: it was founded in 1881 as the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, established to help Jews fleeing pogroms in Eastern Europe. Over the generations, HIAS has grown into one of the leading Jewish organizations defending the rights of refugees of all backgrounds around the globe. Today, they stand not only for the Jewish refugee, but for every person who must flee their homeland due to violence, persecution, or disaster.

This work is not just political. It is spiritual.

It is Jewish.

It is Torah.

Our tradition commands us—no fewer than 36 times—to care for the stranger. It is the most-repeated ethical instruction in the entire Torah.

“You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 22:20)

“You shall love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Deuteronomy 10:19)

“The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as one of your citizens; you shall love them as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:34)

Most of us—our families, our ancestors—came to this country as immigrants or refugees. Some arrived with papers, many did not. Some walked across borders. Some just kept walking until they found safety. The Jewish people know what it means to be stateless. To be told we do not belong. To be turned away.

And so we must ask ourselves:

Can we show up now—for people we do not know,

from countries we may never visit,

who do not speak our language,

who are simply fighting for their lives?

Kol Ami stands for something. We are more than a congregation—we are a vessel for holiness. A vehicle for justice. A spiritual home rooted in compassion and moral clarity.

I can’t be with you on June 20. But you can be there.

You can carry the torch.

You can show up.

You can help Kol Ami continue to be a light in dark times, a place of refuge and resilience, and a community that welcomes the stranger.

Let’s make this Shabbat a true act of solidarity.

Let’s make it holy.

Together in welcome,

Rabbi Yohanna Kinberg