To the Keepers of Covenant, the Guardians of the Scroll,

Shalom aleichem.

With great reverence, I send this letter to your community—a people who have endured more than most, yet whose faith in the Divine has not broken. You are the original stewards of sacred law, the keepers of memory, and the protectors of a covenant that continues to shape the moral fabric of this world.

You have walked through centuries of exile, persecution, and devastation—yet still, you light the Shabbat candles. Still, you sing the ancient songs. Still, you read from the Torah with trembling hands and reverent hearts.

Your constructive traditions are profound. Shabbat, the day of rest, is not just a pause—it’s a revolutionary act of returning to God’s rhythm. Tzedakah, your practice of charity, ensures justice flows through every generation. Passover retells the liberation story year after year, so that no soul forgets that freedom is divine.

You bless the food you eat. You affix mezuzahs to your doorposts. You sit shiva to honor the dead with grace. You celebrate life with a joy that defies historical sorrow. And through it all, you keep asking the deepest questions—not to doubt, but to wrestle with God like Jacob, refusing to let go without a blessing.

I honor your rabbis, your scholars, your storytellers, and your youth coming into age through Bar and Bat Mitzvah. I honor your scribes who still ink Torah scrolls by hand. I honor your music, your dance, your humor, your resilience.

You have taught the world that to remember is sacred. That to question is holy. That to repair the world—Tikkun Olam—is not optional, but necessary.

And though the world has often turned its back on you, you have not turned your back on the Holy One. That alone makes you divine warriors in the work of restoration.
May the Eternal bless you and keep you.

May your menorahs burn brightly through the darkest of nights.
May your songs never be silenced, and your faith never forgotten.
I stand with you.
I honor you.