The Yom Kippur Terrorist Attack Against the Manchester Synagogue
By Rabbi Daniel Rowe
A Manchester synagogue in mourning danced on the Friday following a terrorist attack. That very tension shaped one of Judaism’s oldest Shabbat songs and defines the essence of being Jewish.
This Yom Kippur marks one year since the terrorist attack against the synagogue in Manchester, England. Terrorist attacks always touch us closely and affect us deeply, no matter where or when they occur. But for me, this blow hit harder. Now that one year has passed, I have been thinking about why.
Perhaps it was the moment it happened. We had just experienced the euphoria of the end of Yom Kippur: shouting Shema Yisrael together in unison, hearing the sound of the shofar, the joy of forgiveness, of the great annual reset. And then turning on the phone and seeing scenes of horror.
Perhaps it was because it happened in Manchester, the city where I grew up, in a synagogue I knew. In fact, I went to school with the rabbi. Although I no longer live in Manchester, I have gone back to visit.
They danced and cried at the same time. That is the Jewish people. I spoke with other members of the synagogue and heard the same thing. It is not that the tears disappeared and joy took their place. They danced and cried at the same time. The pain was real. The dancing was real.
The Tension in Lecha Dodi
Hundreds of thousands of Jews who refused to convert were forced onto ships. The largest Jewish community in the world was shattered. The journey that followed was brutal. There was no food. People died by the thousands. The center of Jewish life had been crushed, and for a time, it genuinely seemed that the Jewish people might not survive.
We Can Do It
That Friday night was not the first time that community had held both emotions at once. They had done so a week earlier, on Yom Kippur itself, and so had each of us. Yom Kippur has its moments of tears.
We recite Yizkor, remembering those we loved most who have left us in a world deprived of their presence. We feel regret for where we fell short during the year, for the people we may have hurt, for the damage we caused to ourselves and to others.
And at the end of the day, as we did a year ago, we will shout Shema Yisrael, listen to the shofar, and sing «Next Year in Jerusalem,» and in Manchester, as in every synagogue, people will dance. Yom Kippur is also sung with two different melodies: one sad and one joyful. We have never abandoned either of them.
