Resilience, responsibility and the work of freedom
Posted by Lisa Long on March 20, 2026
"Every year, we tell the story of leaving Egypt, not because we are still enslaved there, but because remembering shapes who we become. This holiday reminds us that even in difficult chapters, we are still responsible for walking forward together."
– Lisa Long
Passover is the holiday of questions like “Why is this night different?” For me this is also a time for questions like… “What am I carrying forward and what am I ready to leave behind?”
Recently, I attended the FedPro conference hosted by the Jewish Federations of North America. One hundred and five of the 141 Federations were represented. Think about that. In a time when many institutions are stretched thin, 105 communities showed up, to learn, to grow, to wrestle with big questions about the future of Jewish life.
One moment at the conference made me smile, and think… JFNA had asked their staff to help “create minyans” during the conference. No explanation. Just that phrase. One staff member, unfamiliar with the term, packed a large amount of yellow fabric because she believed she was being asked to help “create minions.” It was funny. But it was also instructive. We cannot assume everyone who walks through our doors speaks the language of Jewish life. Not everyone grew up with the same level of Jewish literacy, practice or connection. Some come with deep knowledge. Some come curious. Some come cautiously. Some come wounded. If we want a resilient Judaism, especially in small communities like ours, we have to explain more and without judgement. We have to be welcoming at every level. We have to create on-ramps, not gatekeeping.
Resilient Judaism in small communities isn’t about numbers, it’s about commitment. It means we invest in our children and in our adults. We make room for questions. We build relationships before we build programs. We create spaces where someone can say, “I don’t know what that means,” without embarrassment. And, it means we show up for each other, even when it’s inconvenient.
Another question raised at the conference has stayed with me: What inspires me to give to Federation? Not just my money, but my time, energy, and heart.
For me, part of the answer goes back to an experience I will never forget.
When I was serving as our Federation’s financial resource development director, I had the opportunity to tour the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh before the building was torn down. They were applying for a Thomases Family Endowment of the Youngstown Area Jewish Federation grant, and we walked through the building in the footsteps of the murderer who entered that sacred space.
We saw the tally marks on the tops of the doors, marks first responders made to indicate whether a room was clear or how many victims were inside.
We saw the tally marks on the tops of the doors, marks first responders made to indicate whether a room was clear or how many victims were inside the kitchen where congregants had been preparing the Oneg meal, in the pews. We realized that something as simple as choosing to sit on the left or the right determined life or death that day. To this day, when I choose a side to sit on in temple, I think about that.
We walked upstairs through the classroom where the children of the congregation normally gathered. Children who, mercifully, were offsite that morning.
But the image that has never left me was the filing cabinet the coward hid behind while exchanging fire with police, its doors riddled with bullets. And inside that cabinet were children’s books about Tikkun Olam. On the walls around him were children’s drawings about kindness and love. How can someone stand face-to-face with that and still choose hate?
That question has no easy answer. But it clarifies something for me… This is why Federation matters.
Because Federation is about building communities where children draw pictures about kindness. Where we gather for meals. Where we rejoice freely. Where we respond when tragedy strikes, not only for ourselves, but for others.
This brings me to Oct, 7. The Jewish community has stood alongside so many communities in their moments of need… marching, fundraising, advocating, comforting. That is who we are. Which is why it was so disorienting, and painful, to feel alone in the days that followed Oct. 7
At FedPro, one speaker said something simple but powerful, “Pay attention to who showed up for you in those days.”
When I came home from the conference, I did something I should’ve done years ago. I sent messages to the people who reached out and showed up after Oct. 7. I thanked them. I told them their support mattered.
So today I ask you to join me. Find those people and thank them.
Passover teaches us that freedom is not automatic. It is not permanent. It requires responsibility. It requires memory. It requires courage.
Every year, we tell the story of leaving Egypt, not because we are still enslaved there, but because remembering shapes who we become. This holiday reminds us that even in difficult chapters, we are still responsible for walking forward together.