“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have had any celebration.”
Those words stayed with us after our recent Rosh Hashanah gathering in Jerusalem.
Around the tables were nearly 50 people, many of them olim chadashim—newly arrived in Israel, still finding their footing in a country that is now home. Some have no extended family here yet. Friendships are still being formed, familiar communities have been left behind, and when the holidays arrive, what should feel like a season of celebration can instead make the loneliness of beginning again especially noticeable. Several told us that without this gathering, there simply would have been no Rosh Hashanah celebration for them.
So we did what families do during the Feasts: we made room at the table.
There was a hot meal, music and songs, conversation and laughter, and a message about the meaning of the Jewish New Year and the faithfulness of God. There was something especially meaningful about celebrating Rosh Hashanah—the beginning of a new year—with people who are themselves beginning again here in the Land of Israel. And in Jerusalem, they were able to celebrate surrounded not by strangers, but by people ready to welcome them.
This gathering was also a beautiful glimpse into something God has been quietly building in Jerusalem. Our work there is still young, but every week a community is beginning to take shape. Through our humanitarian outreach, people facing difficult circumstances receive practical assistance and encounter a team ready to listen, encourage, and walk alongside them. Alongside this practical work, our weekly ministry also includes a Bible study where we open the Scriptures together, creating a place where people can ask questions, discover the Jewish roots of their faith, and learn more about Yeshua the Messiah.
During the Feasts, we love creating special opportunities to bring people together, particularly those who might otherwise find themselves celebrating alone. But something happens around a table that cannot be measured simply by the number of meals served. People begin talking. Names become familiar. Relationships form. Someone who arrived in Israel without a circle of friends begins to discover community. And through those relationships, hearts sometimes begin opening to deeper conversations about God.
That is what we saw this Rosh Hashanah.
Along with the meal and celebration, there was a meaningful spiritual message, and as the evening continued, we sensed that several people were especially open. Toward the end, we offered an opportunity for anyone who desired prayer to join us. About six people chose to pray with us in the name of Yeshua. It was a quiet but deeply meaningful moment—one that reminded us again that sometimes ministry begins with something as simple as making room for someone at a table.
And this is why we believe so strongly in what is beginning in Jerusalem. We are not simply interested in holding occasional events there. We want to see a strong, living community take root in the city—a place where practical needs are met with compassion, where relationships grow, where the Scriptures are opened, and where people can encounter the hope of Messiah and become firmly rooted in faith.
The work is still in its infancy, but we believe God has much more ahead. Every weekly gathering, every Bible study, every meal shared, and every new relationship is another small piece of that foundation. What we witnessed around these Rosh Hashanah tables gives us a beautiful picture of what this Jerusalem congregation can become.
Will you stand with us as we continue building?
Pray with us for this young work in Jerusalem—for the people already coming, for the olim who are beginning new lives in Israel, and for many more to find both community and the hope of Yeshua. And we invite you to help us strengthen and expand this work. Your partnership helps us continue opening the doors, setting the tables, serving those in need, teaching the Word, and creating a place where lives can take root.
Because for someone beginning again in a new land, an open door and a place at the table can become the beginning of something much greater.
