As seen in the Richmond Times-Dispatch on August 11, 2026 (RTD subscription required)
By: Daniel Staffenberg, CEO, Jewish Community Federation of Richmond
As Jewish families across Greater Richmond prepare for the High Holy Days, synagogues are making final arrangements for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Prayer books will be set out. Torah scrolls will be dressed in white. Rabbis will complete sermons on reflection, repentance and renewal.
But before the holiday begins, congregations must answer a different question: How will we pay for security?
On Rosh Hashanah evening, thousands of Jewish families will arrive at synagogues dressed for the holiday. Before hearing the shofar or opening a prayer book, they will pass armed officers, monitored entrances, surveillance cameras and carefully coordinated safety plans.
Jews have become accustomed to this reality.
None of us should be comfortable with it.
Over the last several years, security costs for Jewish institutions in Greater Richmond have risen dramatically. What began as a modest precaution has become a major budget item. Congregations across our region now spend more than $225,000 each year on armed guards, police details, security technology, training and emergency preparedness. Including Jewish schools, agencies and community events, the cost grows substantially.
These are not optional expenses. They are necessities driven by a changing threat environment.
And that should concern everyone.
The need for security does not arise in a vacuum. It is tied directly to the rise of antisemitism across our country. Jewish institutions have faced threats, harassment, vandalism and intimidation at levels that would have been difficult to imagine a generation ago. Here in Greater Richmond, synagogues and Jewish organizations have experienced real and repeated threats that required serious responses from community leaders and law enforcement.
The assumption that “it can’t happen here” is a luxury Jewish institutions lost years ago.
Words matter. Antisemitic rhetoric has become more visible, more normalized and more widespread. Social media amplifies conspiracy theories and hatred at unprecedented speed. At the same time, the intense emotions surrounding events in Israel and the Middle East have too often created an environment where criticism of Israeli policies gives way to something more dangerous: rhetoric that demonizes Jews broadly, questions their belonging or holds Jewish Americans responsible for events occurring thousands of miles away.
Criticism of Israeli government policies is not antisemitic. But when Jewish students are targeted because they are Jewish, when synagogues become objects of anger over world events or when local Jewish institutions require heightened security, the consequences become impossible to ignore.
Every dollar devoted to security is a dollar that cannot be spent on education, social services, youth engagement, interfaith outreach or caring for families in need. Funds that should be strengthening community life are increasingly being used to protect it.
Yet, perhaps the greatest cost is not financial.
It is emotional.
There is something troubling about teaching children that armed guards are a normal part of life.
There is something unsettling about looking for security personnel before looking for friends.
There is something profoundly sad about planning emergency response procedures alongside holiday services and sacred prayers.
And there is one question we should all ask: Why?
Why should any religious minority have to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars simply to gather for prayer?
The burden Jewish institutions face today should concern everyone. When houses of worship require armed security simply to open their doors, the challenge extends beyond any one religious group. It speaks to the health of our civic culture, the strength of our commitment to religious pluralism and the kind of community we want to be.
This is not solely a Jewish issue. It is an American one.
Religious freedom means more than the legal right to worship. It means practicing one's faith openly, proudly and without fear. When any community must fortify itself against hatred — and increasingly our Muslim neighbors face similar challenges — it diminishes that promise for all of us.
This High Holy Day season, Richmond's Jewish community will do what it has always done. We will gather. We will pray. We will reflect on the year that has passed and recommit ourselves to building a better future.
We will also spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to protect ourselves while doing so.
The issue is not the cost.
The issue is what the cost reveals.
It reveals that antisemitism is not a relic of the past but a present-day reality. It reveals how much work remains before every American can truly exercise their religious freedom without fear.
The real goal is not better security.
The real goal is a day when children arrive at synagogue and notice the rabbi, the music and the sound of the shofar — not the armed guard at the door.
Until that day arrives, Jewish institutions will continue doing what is necessary to keep their communities safe.
But no one should have to.