A Year Later, We Still Seek Justice—and Something Greater

Shabbat Shalom,

This week, our community marks a painful anniversary.

One year ago, a Jewish family in Clayton was targeted by an act of antisemitic violence. Their home was chosen because they were Jewish. The message was intended for one family, but it was heard by every Jew in our region.

As Shabbat approaches, I have found myself thinking not only about that family, but about what it means to live Jewish lives today.

Every weekend, thousands of Jews across St. Louis walk through the doors of our synagogues. During the week, we enter preschool classrooms, day schools, summer camps, youth programs, and the J. We learn, laugh, pray, celebrate, and discover the richness of Jewish life.

We also do so knowing that trained security professionals stand watch.

For most Americans, that would seem extraordinary.

For our community, it has become routine.

That reality should never stop breaking our hearts.

It is striking that this anniversary coincides with Parashat Re’eh, which opens with one of the Torah’s simplest and most demanding words:

“Re’eh.” See.

Moses does not ask the Israelites merely to hear his words. He asks them to see. To open their eyes to the choices before them and to recognize that blessing is not accidental but the result of the decisions we make as individuals and as a community.

This week, Re’eh asks something of us.

See the courage of a family who refused to let hatred define them.

See the resilience of a Jewish community that continues to gather, celebrate, educate, worship, and build despite knowing that security has become part of everyday Jewish life.

And see a reality that we must never allow ourselves to accept as normal.

Since 2017, Jewish Federation of St. Louis has invested heavily to ensure our community can continue to live Jewish lives openly and proudly. Together with remarkable partners, we have built one of the nation’s leading nonprofit security initiatives. We have strengthened our institutions, trained thousands of professionals and volunteers, built trusted partnerships with law enforcement, shared intelligence, and invested millions of dollars so Jewish life can continue to flourish.

We have done what responsible communities do. But we refuse to allow security to define Jewish life.

Yet Re’eh also compels us to ask difficult questions.

How have we become accustomed to armed guards, pre-registration for public events, and social media filled with threatening rhetoric?

Why has this become a normalized part of our reality?

And what kind of St. Louis do we hope to build not only for Jewish families, but for every family that wants to worship freely and live without fear?

The Torah teaches that blessing is not something we simply receive. It is something we choose. We choose to keep showing up. We choose to keep filling our synagogues. We choose to keep seeking Jewish experiences. We choose to raise children who know the beauty of Judaism before they know the ugliness of antisemitism.

But we also choose the future we aspire to create.

Imagine a St. Louis where Jewish children can enter their schools and synagogues without armed protection. Imagine a community where hate crimes are solved swiftly because neighbors refuse to remain silent. Imagine a region where every resident, not only Jewish residents, believes that an attack on one faith community is an attack on all of us.

That is the blessing that Re’eh calls us to choose.

One year later, we continue to pray for and seek justice for the Clayton family and for our community. But we also pray for something even greater: a St. Louis where Jewish families no longer have to accept extraordinary security measures as the price of living openly as Jews.

The first step toward that future is simple.

Do not allow this investigation to close until this crime is solved.

Then, together, let us build the kind of region where no person of any faith ever needs an armed guard simply to pray, learn, or belong.

May this Shabbat renew our vision and our resolve. May we truly see one another, choose blessing over indifference, courage over complacency, and hope over fear. And may the One who spreads over us the shelter of peace guide us in building a community worthy of all of us.