Staying Lit: Showing Up for Jewish Community in a Long History of Darkness

Across Jewish history, sacred spaces have been targets.

The places where Jews gather to pray, learn, sing, celebrate, and mourn have again and again drawn the attention of those who wish Jewish life would disappear. The Temple in Jerusalem. The synagogue down the street. The study hall. The holiday table. The preschool hallway.

It is an old story. Painfully old.

And yet the deeper story is not the violence.

The deeper story is that we are still here.

Because Jewish history is not only a record of what has been attacked. It is also the story of a people who keep showing up.

Synagogue destroyed on Kristallnacht

A Long Roll Call of Violence Against Jewish Sacred Space: not an exhaustive list!

587/586 BCE, Jerusalem, Destruction of the First Temple

The Babylonian empire destroyed the First Temple, looted its treasures, and exiled much of the population. What was lost was not only a building but the political and spiritual center of Jewish life.

70 CE, Jerusalem, Destruction of the Second Temple

Roman forces destroyed the Temple and devastated the city. What was lost was the central altar of Jewish worship and the organizing heart of national religious life.

1096, Speyer, Worms, Mainz, First Crusade massacres

Crusader mobs attacked Jewish communities across the Rhineland. Synagogues and homes were destroyed. Entire early Ashkenazi communities were shattered.

1391, Spain, Seville, Toledo, Córdoba, Barcelona, anti-Jewish riots

Jewish neighborhoods were attacked, synagogues destroyed or converted, thousands killed, and many forced to convert. What was lost was the stability of one of the great centers of medieval Jewish civilization.

1648–1649, Ukraine and Poland-Lithuania, Chmielnicki massacres

Jewish communities across eastern Europe were devastated. Towns were destroyed, learning centers wiped out, and thousands killed or displaced.

1938, Germany, Austria, Sudetenland, Kristallnacht

More than 1,400 synagogues were burned, thousands of Jewish businesses destroyed, homes ransacked, sacred objects desecrated. It marked the violent turning point that made the coming catastrophe unmistakable.

1949, Damascus, Syria, Menarsha Synagogue bombing

Worshippers were killed and injured in an attack that helped accelerate the collapse of one of the oldest Jewish communities in the Middle East.

1956, Kfar Chabad, Israel, synagogue and religious school attack

Attackers murdered six people, including five children, in a house of study.

1957–1958, United States, wave of synagogue bombings

During the civil rights era, multiple synagogues across the American South were bombed or threatened.

1980, Paris, France, Rue Copernic synagogue bombing

A bomb exploded outside the synagogue during Shabbat services, killing four people and injuring dozens.

1981, Vienna, Austria, Stadttempel attack

Gunmen attacked a bar mitzvah celebration inside Vienna’s main synagogue. Two were killed and eighteen wounded.

1982, Rome, Italy, Great Synagogue attack

A Palestinian terror attack outside the synagogue killed a two year old child and injured thirty seven others.

1986, Istanbul, Turkey, Neve Shalom Synagogue massacre

Gunmen attacked Shabbat worshippers, killing twenty two people.

2002, Djerba, Tunisia, El Ghriba synagogue bombing

A truck bomb killed twenty one people at one of the oldest synagogues in the Jewish world.

2003, Istanbul, Turkey, Neve Shalom and Bet Israel synagogue bombings

Coordinated attacks killed and injured large numbers of worshippers.

2014, Jerusalem, Israel, Kehilat Bnei Torah synagogue attack

Morning prayers turned into horror when attackers murdered four worshippers and a police officer.

2015, Copenhagen, Denmark, Great Synagogue shooting

A security volunteer was murdered while guarding a bat mitzvah celebration.

2017, Gothenburg, Sweden, synagogue firebombing

Young people inside narrowly escaped injury when attackers threw firebombs at the building.

2018, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States, Tree of Life synagogue shooting

Eleven worshippers were murdered, the deadliest antisemitic attack in American history.

2019, Poway, California, United States, Chabad of Poway shooting

One person was killed and others injured during Passover services.

2019, Halle, Germany, Yom Kippur synagogue attack

A gunman attempted to storm the synagogue while livestreaming the attack. The door held. Two people nearby were murdered.

2019, Monsey, New York, United States, Hanukkah stabbing

A Hanukkah gathering and prayer service was attacked, leaving multiple victims severely wounded.

2022, Colleyville, Texas, United States, Congregation Beth Israel hostage crisis

An armed man held congregants hostage during services for ten hours before they escaped.

2023, Djerba, Tunisia, synagogue pilgrimage attack

An attacker killed visitors and security guards during the historic pilgrimage.

2024, Rouen, France, synagogue arson attempt

2024, Melbourne, Australia, Adass Israel synagogue arson

2026, Liège, Belgium, synagogue explosion

2026, West Bloomfield, Michigan, United States, vehicle attack at Temple Israel

An armed attacker rammed a vehicle into the synagogue complex while 140 preschool children were inside. They survived. A security officer was injured.

What This History Teaches

When someone attacks a synagogue, they are not only attacking a building.

They are attempting to interrupt Jewish continuity.

A synagogue is a place where children learn the alphabet of their people, elders carry memory, songs move from one generation to the next, grief is held, joy is amplified, Torah is studied, and community is formed.

To attack a synagogue is to try to extinguish the public flame of Jewish life.

And yet.

The remarkable thing about this long and painful list is that none of these attacks succeeded in their deepest goal.

The Jewish people did not disappear.

Communities rebuilt. Sanctuaries reopened. Torah scrolls were lifted again. Children kept learning.

The Answer Is Showing Up

The response to this history is not withdrawal.

It cannot be.

The response is presence.

Every time someone walks through synagogue doors today, it carries quiet meaning.

We know the history.

We know the risks.

We know the headlines.

And still we come.

We come for prayer.

We come for song.

We come for Torah study.

We come to celebrate babies and bar mitzvahs.

We come to grieve together.

We come to eat and laugh and argue and build community.

Showing up becomes more than attendance.

It becomes an act of spiritual courage.

The Reality of Security

There is another reality to Jewish communal life today.

Security has become part of how we gather.

At our community, the cost of having professional security at a gathering is about $400 per event. That is the price of ensuring that people can pray, learn, and celebrate safely.

Because those costs add up quickly, we ration our security resources carefully. Our current policy is to have armed security present when children are gathered, when we host large groups, for B’nai mitzvah celebrations, and for major holidays and community events.

In other words, we prioritize the moments when the community is most vulnerable and most visible.

This is not the world we wish to live in.

But it is the world we live in right now.

Supporting Jewish community today means helping carry this responsibility together. Security is now part of the cost of gathering.

Staying Lit From Within

The Talmud speaks of the ner tamid, the eternal light that burned continuously in the Temple.

Every synagogue still keeps that light burning.

But the real eternal light is not the lamp on the wall.

It is the people.

It is the singing that fills the room.

It is the Torah that is studied.

It is the food shared at the kiddush table.

It is the children running through the hallways.

Our vitality cannot depend on the outside world deciding to treat us kindly.

It must come from within our communities.

And So We Keep Showing Up

Every Shabbat candle lit.

Every Torah class.

Every youth group gathering.

Every potluck dinner.

Each one says the same thing.

We are here.

We are alive.

We are building Jewish life together.

And yes, sometimes we stand behind security guards and locked doors.

But we still sing.

We still study.

We still gather.

And we pray for the day when Jewish communities everywhere can celebrate our heritage with no fear at all.

Until that day comes, we will do what Jews have always done.

We will keep the flame alive.

And we will keep showing up.

A Closing Prayer

May the memory of all those lost in Jerusalem, Mainz, Seville, Damascus, Rome, Istanbul, Pittsburgh, Poway, Halle, Colleyville, West Bloomfield, and in so many other places we could name, be a blessing.

May the synagogues rebuilt after destruction stand as testimony that Jewish life cannot be extinguished.

May the ner tamid, the eternal light, continue to burn in every sanctuary and in every Jewish heart.

May we have the courage to keep showing up for one another.

May we strengthen the communities that sustain us.

May we support the safety of those who gather to pray, learn, sing, and celebrate.

And may the day come soon when Jewish communities everywhere can gather in joy, in openness, and in peace.

May we live to see a world where our children can run through synagogue hallways without fear, where our holidays fill the streets with song, and where the light of Jewish life shines freely.

Ken yehi ratzon. May it be so.