Makor Hayim is at a crossroads. Without raising close to £60,000 a year, we cannot survive. It’s as stark as that.

We’ve all felt the strain. We are busy. Many of us have young families. The ones who don’t have families have demanding jobs or other commitments. Running this community is not a small thing. It takes hours and hours of people’s time, often from just a few of us. And yet, somehow, we keep going. Why? Because when we show up — like on Rosh Hashanah last week — we feel the energy, the commitment, the joy of being here. I looked around and thought: I cannot imagine a world where Makor Hayim no longer exists. And I don’t think anyone here can.

I think about moments in my own life that Makor Hayim has shaped. When Debbie led a blessing for Erica and me before our wedding, it was moving beyond words — full of beauty, community, and love. And when Inya had her baby blessing here, even though she was too young to understand it, it was profound for us as her parents. These are not just rituals; they are life-shaping moments that root us in Judaism and in each other.

That’s why, when we talk about the future, the response is always: we can make it work. Because none of us can imagine Jewish life without Makor Hayim in it. We are here, we keep showing up, because we know how much it matters to us and to our families.

And it’s not just about us — it’s about what we are building together. Our young people’s formation has just begun to find its clarity. Programmes like Challah Time for our young builders, our Kulanu (Intergenerational) Services, and the dream of a residential Shabbaton next year — these are just the beginning. We already run three in person services a month, weekly online services led tirelessly by Lily and Ed, plus festivals and events, and families are excited about what’s possible. This is not the time to stop.

And for me, personally, it means even more. Right now, I find being Jewish in the wider world difficult. Sometimes I feel shame or confusion about my Jewishness. But here, with all of you, I feel proud, safe, understood. And when I listen to Student Rabbi Yael —  like when she spoke so beautifully, and painfully, about Sarah and Hagar last week, and the need for more sisterhood; who brings Torah alive with such vision, depth, and honesty — I find clarity I couldn’t get anywhere else. And when I see the extraordinary dedication of Amita, our community administrator, who goes above and beyond every day, I know how blessed we are. That’s the kind of Judaism we are building here.

Some of you may be thinking: but I already pay my builder’s fees — why are you asking me for more? The answer is simple: synagogues do not survive on membership fees alone, and ours is no exception. We keep fees as accessible as possible so no one is excluded. That’s a choice we make because we believe in belonging. But it means we must raise extra funds to make this community sustainable. And we must be clear: most of our costs are salaries. If we want to keep Yael, and one day be able to make her our full-time rabbi, and if we want to keep Amita, the hero who keeps this place functioning day to day — then we need to meet this goal. Without them, Makor Hayim cannot continue as we know it.

When I first joined, the High Holy Days appeal, we raised more than £10,000. Last year, we raised less than £3,000. I know how hard things are financially right now. But this year, more than ever, we need everyone to dig deeper.

Our target is £12,000 from this appeal. That leaves just under £50,000 to raise — and we believe it’s possible through the multi-year giving society, as well as other fundraising initiatives and grant applications. But this £12,000 from us, here and now, is the foundation. Without it, the rest cannot happen.

The timeline is urgent. By the end of this year, we will have to decide whether Makor Hayim can continue. This is not one of those moments when we can assume “it’ll all be fine.” It won’t be — unless we act together now. That is why we have formed a Transition Team: a group of trustees, committed volunteers, Student Rabbi Yael, and Amita. Their role is to steward this moment with care — to secure the funds we need, to coordinate volunteer energy, and to ensure that every pound we raise is used wisely. And if, despite our best efforts, the unthinkable happens and we are no longer financially viable, this team will also support in guiding a dignified and fitting conclusion to Makor Hayim’s story. But let’s be clear: the future we all long for, the option that shines most brightly in our hearts, is not survival alone but renewal — building a community that can thrive. And Jewish communities, time and again, have risen to this kind of moment.

Already, some of our community have led the way. We want to say a huge thank you to Lois George, Ed Teeger, Mark Glatman, Lauretta and Martin Dives, all four Trustees, Dan, Natalie, Neil and Stacy, and others who have already pledged. Their generosity has set us on the path. It is inspiring to see our elders and our Trustees taking such a leading role in building a future for all of us. This is only the beginning, and it gives us hope for what more we can achieve together.

Think of the Mishkan in the desert: every person gave what they could. Some had more, some less, but every contribution mattered. It was not equal in size, but equal in heart. That is what sustained our ancestors then, and it is what can sustain us now.

So I am asking you all — our Builders, our Ally Builders, those who join primarily, or entirely online, and those who have not yet joined but who know in your heart how special Makor Hayim is: How much do you want this?

Builders and Allies, your fees keep us accessible, but your gifts tonight are what will let us grow. Not-yet Builders, if you’ve been inspired by our services, our Torah, our inclusivity, and the spirit you’ve felt here — we would love to have you with us on this journey. Yael would love to be your rabbi.

Think about your children’s faces at Kulanu Services. Think about the friendships you’ve formed here. Think about the Torah you’ve learned — the ways Yael has brought new insights alive, the conversations that have deepened your Jewish journey. Think about the moments of pride we’ve shared: celebrating LGBTQ+ inclusion, honouring Disability Pride, lifting up social justice as a core part of Jewish life. Think of the times an online service has brightened your week. Think about how we strive to make sure everyone belongs here, no matter who they are, no matter what they bring.

None of that comes without financial cost. Kol Nidrei reminds us that not every vow we make can be kept. But the promise we make to each other tonight — the promise of sustaining this community — is one we can keep, if we all play our part.

So please: give as generously as you can. You can donate via our brand new website, through our JustGiving page, or by contacting Amita, Martin, or one of the trustees if you prefer.

Help us not just to survive, but to thrive — this year, next year, and for the generations to come.