During Passover this year, we were mindful of the instability around the world, vulnerability in Israel and unrest across our nation’s university campuses. Perhaps pulling at us the most is the status of hostages taken so many months ago. It could have been tempting to alter Passover Seder plans this year. Instead, as the Jewish People have done for millennia, including those who call Los Angeles Jewish Health home, we recognized that the best way to honor the hostages and everyone suffering for their beliefs, was to conduct Seder in part as a tribute to those who continue to strive for freedom from oppression. As we started Seder remembering our brothers and sisters in Israel, this was another opportunity to actively demonstrate our beliefs. These sacred traditions provide us with an anchor to hold onto and give us stability during these tumultuous times. As we share just some of the many images of Passover at LAJH this year, imagine the warm and wonderful music and prayer that wrapped the seniors like a blanket of safety, stability and joy thanks to our wonderful rabbinical leaders, Chief Mission Officer, Rabbi Karen Bender and Rabbi Ronald Goldberg. CLICK HERE FOR PASSOVER PHOTOS

Rabbi Karen Bender, Chief Mission Officer of Los Angeles Jewish Health, recently returned from a mission to Israel. She was there to express solidarity with our Israeli brothers and sisters, demonstrate to them that they are not alone but rather that our hearts beat as one, bear witness to the massacres, lift up soldiers and family members of hostages, and volunteer by way of farming. Rabbi Bender describes that being there was in some ways like a shiva visit and in other ways like bikkur cholim, visiting the sick. In the Talmud the rabbis state that when you visit someone who is ill, you remove 1/60 of their suffering. Rabbi Bender hopes and prays she took away some of the Israelis' suffering by piercing their feelings of isolation, despair and grief. On the flight home she wrote the following poem. Her reference to the strand of turquoise alludes to an ancient Jewish practice of adding a blueish strand to the tzitzit fringes of the prayer shawl. In those days, one would know that the sun had risen enough to say the morning Shma prayer if there was enough natural light to see the difference between the blue and white strand and the blue and white in the sky. The Diameter of the Massacres*by Karen Bender - April 2024 The diameter of the massacreswas the length of Israeland the depth of the universe.It stretched to every continent,college campuses and social mediaIt spread information and disinformationTwisting and distorting moralityAnd redefining madnessIt wreaked havoc and wrecked livesIn Israel and GazaIn kitchens and living roomsIn bedrooms and porchesIn souls and hearts. The diameter of the visitwas the length of Israelthe distance to Californiaand everyone and everywherewe will speak of it.The mission stretchedour compassion and mindsand challenged our faithin human nature.It struck us with awein every cell of our beingas we saw the resiliency of our peopleand as we strove together to answerthe unspoken question:Where shall we place all the pain?We were messengers and witnesses,representatives with wishes to helpand we did and we will. The diameter of the hugsis the length of an Israeli flagand the width of a tallit large enoughto enwrap every Israeli who hurts right nowand therefore every Israeliwith the comfort of our loveand with a strand of techelet turquoisein the tzitzit to remind us all thatthe morning will come andwe will say the Shma someday with one voice. *A reprise of Yehudah Amichai’s poem, “The Diameter of the Bomb” Rabbi Bender placing letters from residents in the Western Wall Letters from residents put in the Western WallSample letter given to Israeli soldiers

by Rabbi Ronald Goldberg This story is a first-person account by Rabbi Ronald Goldberg, of our Eisenberg Village Campus of Los Angeles Jewish Health, regarding his recent trip to Israel. As has been the case for all of us, the devastating October 7th attack by Hamas on Israel, and the suffering and struggles of our brethren there, are heavy on my heart. From being a non-citizen volunteer in the Israel Defense Forces (צה”ל-TZHAL-IDF), to marrying a wonderful Israeli woman, to my year of rabbinic studies in Jerusalem, Israel has always been in my heart and thoughts and prayers. When the opportunity arose in early December 2023 to take part in a volunteer mission to Israel, I didn’t walk – I ran to sign up, with my wife’s blessing. We both knew the work would be hard and emotional. Going into the program, the IDF required a signed waiver stating that I knew I was entering a closed military zone with active conflict and that the army could not be responsible for my safety. Without hesitation, I signed on the dotted line. The mission took me to the region of Israel known as the Gaza Envelope, so called because it was in range of attack from Gaza. There I was blessed to do a variety of tasks. Some were mundane, like harvesting oranges on a kibbutz ravaged by the October 7th attack. Others were more emotional, such as working in an army rest camp just outside of Gaza and interacting as rabbi with soldiers fresh out of the territory. I gave them space to share their fears and hopes, I served them sandwiches and beverages, and I blessed them. At Sheba Hospital-Tel HaShomer, I did rotations with grievously wounded soldiers, hearing their stories, helping them face their fears, and blessing them and their loved ones. In programs at Fountainview, I’ve described all these things in detail. I’m also always happy to discuss them again in person. But a message I want to share today here is about a slogan you see all over Israel – on bus benches, on the sides of buildings, and on the lower corner of TV screens during broadcasts. The message is ביחד ננצח : Together we will triumph. This is the overwhelming feeling you get all over Israel. Not despair or defeat, but a sense of everyone being all together – a sense that, as one, the nation will succeed in its endeavor to keep its citizens safe. That, despite the efforts of those who murder young people at a music festival, Israel will live, Israel will prosper, and yes, Israel will dance and sing again. It’s not about triumph in battle, it’s about showing that evil will never drown out joy, never drown out love and caring, and that, just as we danced and sang on October 6th, so, too, we will dance and sing again today, tomorrow, and indeed עד עולם –forever. This was my takeaway from the trip: We should never ever forget that עם ישראל חי – the People Israel yet live. Rabbi Ronald Goldberg Volunteer Mission to Israel