Standing at the Wall: Taking a Breath

Shabbat Shalom!

For much of the past two years, I have felt as if I have been holding my breath.

Since October 7, many of us have lived in a state of quiet tension, unable to exhale as we held our breath for Israel, for our people, and for our local Jewish communities as we navigate rising antisemitism and uncertainty.

In that time, I have traveled to Israel several times. Each visit has been meaningful, powerful, and often emotional. But two weeks ago, when I traveled with our Federation’s Men’s Mission, something shifted.

Our group of 14 ranged from those who had visited many times and even lived there, to those who were experiencing Israel for the first time. What everyone shared, however, was an eagerness to listen, to learn, and to better understand the complexity of Israeli life. Together, we visited our partnership regions to see the impact St. Louis is making and had honest conversations about the differences between Jewish life in Israel and in the United States. We met with soldiers on military bases, talked to veterans struggling with PTSD, and spent meaningful time with our friends in Nahal Oz.  We enjoyed amazing food and the vibrant Israeli culture that uniquely blends Biblical history with modern life. And we stood together, at the Kotel, as the setting sun welcomed a new Shabbat.

It was there, with my hands and head pressed firmly against the ancient stones, that something unexpected happened.

I exhaled.

The reverberations of the Wall pulsed through me – the prayers of generations, the tears, the resilience, the hope. In that moment, the weight of carrying the fear and tension of being a Jew in 2026 seemed to lift, even if just for a moment. I felt grounded again. Connected.

There is a verse from Psalm 121 that has echoed in my mind since that moment:

“Hinei lo yanum v’lo yishan Shomer Yisrael.” 

“Behold, the Guardian of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps.” 

For two years many of us have felt protective, praying for the Jewish people and our homeland with anxious hearts. But this psalm reminds us that ultimately, we are not alone in that vigilance. There is a presence, a strength greater than us, binding us together and providing a caring and always watchful eye.

In Israel, even under the looming threats we face from Hamas, from Iran, and from those who wish harm upon our people, as I prayed at the Kotel, I found something I didn’t realize I had lost: a sense of safety, comfort, and quiet strength.

We returned home on a Wednesday filled with inspiration and renewed connection. And less than four days later, as the world once again shifted toward conflict, I felt my breath tighten once more.

I wondered: Was that moment at the Wall false hope? Or was it something else entirely?

Perhaps it was the special feeling that comes with standing in the land of Israel. Or perhaps it was G-d giving me a brief moment of stillness, a breath of peace, knowing that the road ahead would continue to challenge us.

Regardless, I am deeply grateful for that breath. For that pause. For that reminder that even in uncertain times, moments of clarity and peace are possible.

And that is the lesson I carry into this Shabbat.

We cannot control the storms around us. But we can allow ourselves to breathe within them to find strength in community, in our people, in our tradition, and in our faith.

Shabbat invites us to take that breath. To release the tension of the week. To remember that we are part of a people who have endured, persevered, and continued to hope for thousands of years.

As we enter this day of rest, may we draw strength from one another and from the eternal promise that the Guardian of Israel watches over us still.

And may we conclude with the ancient prayer we offer in times of uncertainty:

Oseh shalom bimromav, Hu ya’aseh shalom aleinu v’al kol Yisrael v’al kol yoshvei tevel.

May the One who makes peace in the heavens bring peace upon us, upon all Israel, and upon all who dwell on earth.

May this Shabbat bring us the courage to breathe again and the faith to believe in a safer and more peaceful world for all.