A KING’S VISIT

This week King Charles visited Manchester, meeting members of the Heaton Park Synagogue after the Yom Kippur attack that claimed two lives. It was a brief encounter, yet it carried the weight of something larger – the moral presence of a leader standing beside a wounded community. The timing, in the week of Parashat Noach, feels almost providential.

The Torah opens with a world unravelling: “The earth was filled with violence (chamas).” G-d’s response is not merely to destroy but to rebuild – to begin again with Noach, “a righteous man in his generation.” Out of chaos comes a new covenant, the Noachide Code: a set of laws affirming the sanctity of life and the responsibility of every human being to preserve it. The first divine charge after the Flood is simple: do not spill blood, for humanity is created in the image of G-d.

When a king crosses the threshold of a synagogue scarred by hatred, he enacts that same covenant in modern form. Without words, he declares that the image of G-d in the victims will not be forgotten and that the moral order –fragile though it may seem – still binds us all. His presence says: the floodwaters of violence will not have the last word.

The King’s visit was a tremendous chizuk – a source of support and strength not only to the Manchester Jewish community but to all of us. At a time when many are questioning the safety of Jews in the UK, King Charles’ moral clarity and evident empathy are deeply appreciated.

After the deluge, G-d offers Noach the rainbow – a sign that heaven will not abandon earth. King Charles’ visit was a small but shining reflection of that rainbow: a human promise that compassion still has a place in public life. It reminded the Jewish community, and the nation beyond it, that leadership at its best is not about ceremony but about covenant – the willingness to stand with the vulnerable and to restore trust after it has been broken.

In Kabbalistic language, malchut – kingship – is not domination but receptivity, the channel through which divine values enter the world. When a ruler listens, comforts, and affirms life, he becomes a vessel of that higher malchut.

In the shadow of the Flood and the memory of Yom Kippur’s loss, the King’s visit offered a glimpse of what rebuilding looks like: small acts of presence that reaffirm the rainbow’s symbolism – justice, mercy, and hope.