Jewish tradition commands us to retell the story of our ancestors’ liberation each and every year — not only as history, but as lived experience. We are asked to feel, in our bodies and minds, as if we ourselves came out of Egypt.

JCUA’s founder, Rabbi Robert Marx, understood this imperative. In 1966, urging the Jewish community to stand with Black Chicagoans organizing against housing segregation, Rabbi Marx wrote that “freedom is Judaism, and Passover isn’t 3,000 years old — it is today.”

This sense of urgency and spirit of collective responsibility has guided JCUA since the very beginning. It continues to guide us today.

As I prepare for my seder tomorrow night, I’m thinking about the concept of Mitzrayim. It refers not just to the land of Egypt, but to the “narrow place” — a condition of constriction and fear.

At this challenging political moment, we can feel that sense of narrowness acutely. There is fear present in so many of our lives — fear rooted in our race, religion, immigration status, gender identity, economic status, and more. It’s exhausting and painful. And it can be easy, in response, to turn inward, to focus only on protecting ourselves and those closest to us. But that’s not who we are and it’s not what our Jewish tradition calls us to do.

At JCUA, we know that our safety and freedom as Jews are bound up with the safety and freedom of our neighbors — our immigrant neighbors, our unhoused neighbors, our neighbors of all faiths and backgrounds.

So when we see immigrants targeted for deportation, when our neighbors remain unhoused — when our fears and experiences of antisemitism are twisted to justify repression — we must say no.

We say: there is another way.

We say that true safety does not come from isolation and fear, but from solidarity — from mutual care, and deep, accountable relationships with communities across Chicago and Illinois.

This has been the driving force behind JCUA’s work for more than six decades. Whether we’re organizing on campaigns for systemic change, training our members and partners to combat racism and antisemitism, or deepening bonds within and beyond our Jewish community — we are doing the slow, necessary, and beautiful work of building a world where Jews and all our neighbors are free.

It’s not always easy. But we stay in this work with courage and humility because we know: our liberation is bound up with one another’s.

This Passover, may we each embody the spirit of liberation and find strength in the community we’re building. May we come out of the narrow place together and continue walking toward a future of freedom for all.

Chag sameach!