Danielle Ben-David’s Bulletin Column November – December 2025

Threads of Connection and Hope

Reflections by Danielle Ben-David

This year’s High Holidays were a season of firsts for me — my first experiencing the holidays from a new perspective, and my first feeling so deeply woven into the fabric of this remarkable community.

Despite my new role introducing me to so many new faces, the atmosphere felt familiar. There was a palpable sense of joy, warmth, and reconnection radiating through the room. I was moved by how genuinely happy people seemed to be — to be in shul, to be together, to meet me, and to meet one another anew after another year’s passage.

I had a different perspective this year — literally and figuratively. In past years, I experienced the High Holidays through the eyes of a mom and congregant, balancing spiritual moments with the demands of family schedules. This year, my seat — and my gaze — were different. I was fully present. Helping, organizing, and supporting the flow of services gave me a sense of active purpose and connection that I’ve never felt before. It suits me perfectly, and it reaffirmed how much I love our community. Beth El truly feels like extended family.

This season carried an added weight. Back in the fall of 2023, after October 7, I worked with Rabbi Paskind, Greg Schindler, Jody Dietch, Sarah Bernstein, Deborah Gordon, and Judy Shereck to create our luminary bag display — a space to hold and honor the hostages throughout the past two years. Originally lining the sidewalks outside our building, the bags weathered the elements: the sand grew heavy and cement-like from the rain, and the lights began to dim. Still, our hope and prayers sustained us. As we learned updates about each individual, we marked them — alive and home in Israel or, devastatingly returned to Israel for rightful burial with a Yahrzeit candle. Each phase of this was a new type of mourning and processing, as it was for us all. After Monday’s release of the last twenty living hostages, we dismantled the luminary display on Erev Simchat Torah. It cannot be called closure. We are all changed, the scars remain, and we await the bodies of the 19 who are still missing, held in our sanctuary and in our prayers.

My American family is small and scattered along the East Coast and Midwest, but my roots in Jewish community run deep. When I first traveled to Israel at age ten, I felt instantly at home — no fear, only comfort. Later, during my Birthright trip as a college student, that sense of belonging became even stronger. It isn’t just about the language or the religion; it’s the warmth, the shared energy, the feeling of being part of something larger and intertwined — the same feeling I experience here at Beth El.

We are all similar, yet beautifully different. Connected by this place, by our traditions, and by our care for one another. I am deeply grateful to work alongside our clergy, board, staff, and every volunteer who helps make our synagogue thrive — from the services and celebrations to the structure and even the administrative work that keeps it all running. We are a team, and together we embody what it means to be a living, breathing community of faith and purpose.

This High Holiday season reminded me that even in the most difficult times, the strength, support, and care of our community carry us through. It is this shared resilience, this coming together in joy, grief, and hope, that sustains us and binds us closer. I am grateful to be part of such a community, and I look forward to continuing to grow, celebrate, and stand together in the year to come.