Today, I was invited to attend a service at Beth Tikvah Congregation & Centre in Richmond, BC, by Rabbi Susie Tendler. I reached out to Rabbi Susie Tendler on the day I first heard the news of the antisemitic shooting at Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, simply to express care and solidarity. I went today as a neighbour who wanted to show up, to listen, and to stand with the local Jewish community.

I was invited to briefly introduce myself and share a few words. I spoke simply, naming the violence clearly as antisemitic and acknowledging the pain it causes. I did not try to offer explanations or solutions. Instead, I wanted to express something more basic and human, that many of us in the wider Richmond community are grieving with them, that antisemitic violence anywhere reverberates everywhere, and that silence in moments like this only deepens isolation.

After the service, I was invited to stay for lunch with the congregation. Sitting around tables, sharing food and conversation felt deeply significant. There was laughter alongside heaviness, ordinary conversation alongside moments of reflection. It reminded me that community is sustained not only through words spoken from the front, but through shared meals, presence, and simple hospitality. In that space, solidarity felt lived rather than declared.

Many people came to thank me for my presence and for the words I shared. Several told me that over the past three years they have felt increasingly isolated and scared, carrying a sense of vulnerability that is difficult to put into words. In the midst of that, they shared how grateful they felt for this community and how coming together to worship and support one another offered them a sense of peace. Listening to these stories was humbling. It reminded me how much these gatherings matter, not just spiritually or culturally, but emotionally and relationally.

What stayed with me most was the generosity of the people I met. The way the congregation listened, welcomed, and made space felt like a gift. It reminded me that solidarity is not about saying the perfect thing. It is about presence, humility, and the willingness to show up without centering oneself.

As I left Beth Tikvah later in the day, I found myself thinking again about shared spaces and shared life. A synagogue, like a church, mosque, temple, or community centre, is meant to be a place of safety and gathering. When hatred turns such spaces into targets, it damages the trust that allows communities to live together. Rebuilding that trust takes more than statements. It takes relationships, time, and repeated acts of care.

I am grateful to Rabbi Susie Tendler and the congregation of Beth Tikvah for the invitation, the welcome, and the hospitality they extended to me today. I left with a deeper sense of responsibility as a neighbour in this city, and with a renewed commitment to keep showing up, listening, and standing against hatred in all its forms.