The news that Israel attacked Iran to cripple their nuclear bomb program was itself a bombshell. It was as if Israel telegraphed an instant message to the world that she could and would stand up those who want to destroy her.

This tiny country, created by a people who have defied those who wish to destroy them for thousands of years, once again proved its extraordinary courage and resolve.

The Israeli people know that repercussions are coming. Already, there has been damage and death in Tel Aviv. More bombs will fall.

A Canadian rabbi wrote this to her congregation today:

“We are a people waiting, and praying. We are holding our breath alongside our brothers and sisters in Israel. Because when one part of Am Yisrael is trembling, the rest of us tremble too. It doesn’t matter whether we live in Eretz Yisrael or in Windsor—we are one people, one heart, one shared fate. We wait. And we pray. Together.”

Tonight I am alone in my home. A thunderstorm is raging outside. The night sky is ripped apart by jagged lightening blasts, and I can feel the roiling thunder, even here, safe inside.

In Israel, people huddle in safe rooms and bomb shelters. Without windows they cannot see the streaks of light from incoming missiles, or the responding missiles from Iron Dome, destroying the attack mid-air before it arrives. The clashes in the sky are thunderous, and I imagine they can be felt, even in underground shelters.

I am there too. Like Rabbi Fick who wrote so movingly to her congregation, I am part of Am Yisrael—the people of Israel—wherever I am. Alone in my distant home, I wait and pray together with my brethren.

As I did last Shabbat morning, tomorrow I will walk through the farmer’s market until I find the small group of Jews carrying Israeli flags and photos of those still held captive in Gaza.

I will do as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel did when he marched for civil rights; I will pray with my feet.

And I will recite this prayer, so familiar to Jews wherever we may be:

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

But perhaps in this form it is not so familiar, because many Jews—myself included—have chosen to add the phrase “and upon all who dwell on earth” to an ancient prayer.

We know, all too well, that for one people to have peace, all peoples must have peace.

Amen