Hazak, Hazak, V’nithazaik.

“Be strong, be strong, and we will be strengthened.”

These are the words Jews chant five times a year, when we complete reading each of the Five Books of Moses.

Everyone stands. We wait for the Torah reader to finish, and together we call out the three words: Hazak, Hazak, V’nithazaik.

And the service continues. As if nothing unusual had happened.

But this Shabbat something unusual had happened, just hours earlier. On Thursday afternoon a man drove his pick up truck into a synagogue, down the hall, past offices, past a nursery with sleeping children, towards a gym where preschoolers were playing.

Brave security guards stopped him. Brave teachers protected the children. Brave clergy and staff did as they had been taught, protecting themselves and each other.

No one was killed, except the terrorist himself. Just one person was hurt, a security guard who stood his ground and did his job.

Threats and attacks on Jewish institutions and Jewish people are no longer unusual. We gasp in horror but not in surprise.

The Free Press reported on March 13:

“There were more synagogue attacks this week than days in the week.

Last weekend: There were three shootings at synagogues within a 10-mile radius in Toronto.

On Monday: In Liège, Belgium, a synagogue was bombed.

On Thursday: A man with a rifle and explosives drove into the largest synagogue in West Bloomfield, Michigan.

On Thursday afternoon: In Trondheim, Norway, police arrested a man for suspicious behavior outside a synagogue.

On the earliest hours of Friday: There was an arson attack at a Rotterdam synagogue.

And that’s just the last seven days.”

So this weekend, as we finished reading the book of Exodus, those three words carried extra weight.

Hazak, Hazak, V’nithazaik.

“Be strong, be strong, and we will be strengthened.”

Our ancient sages taught that the first word applies to each individual. The second, to each community. And the third, to all of us.

I wish that our community did not have to chant this. I wish that we did not have to know that each Jew’s individual strength would be needed to give us all strength going forward.

But the bright side to this dark message is the knowledge that we are a community. A worldwide community. We can be strong for one another, and we can be strong together as we face whatever trials the future will bring.

Hatred doesn’t go away. It can morph and change, but I have come to believe that it is as permanent as darkness itself.

This does not mean that we have to live in darkness. Quite the opposite. Knowing that darkness exists, and still choosing to live in the light of joy, of love, and of community, is our blessing and our answer to the darkness.

Hazak, Hazak, V’nithazaik.