This weekend, around the world, kids will dress up for Halloween. They’ll go door-to-door for candy. Yards will be decorated with spiders and spider webs and all the spooky accoutrements of this time of year. Haunted houses will be visited. Ghost stories will be told.

Even still, there are even scarier realities in play these days. While the government shutdown remains in effect, thousands go without a paycheck, thousands stand to lose their healthcare and more still run the risk of losing their SNAP benefits, which will deny them the food they need to survive. It’s horrifying to be sure. Meanwhile, members of Congress dig in their heels, blaming the other side for the stalemate.

Our tradition is clear in its consistent support of the less privileged. Once and again, we are commanded to provide for those who live with less. Abraham rushes to provide water for a thirsty Hagar and Ishmael. He dashes out of his tent to provide hospitality to passing strangers. We are told that the Messiah will come not adorned with royal garb, but in the form of a beggar. Our tradition teaches that Elijah will usher in the Messiah not in a scene of great fanfare and glam, but in a scene of humility and true modesty.

As we read in Tractate Sanhedrin of the Talmud:

“Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said to Elijah: When will the Messiah come? Elijah said to him: Go ask him. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asked: And where is he sitting? Elijah said to him: At the entrance of the city of Rome. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asked him: And what is his identifying sign by means of which I can recognize him? Elijah answered: He sits among the poor who suffer from illnesses. And all of them untie their bandages and tie them all at once, but the Messiah unties one bandage and ties one at a time. He says: Perhaps I will be needed to serve to bring about the redemption. Therefore, I will never tie more than one bandage, so that I will not be delayed.”

In the short story, the Messiah is with and within those who are most bereft: the sick, the wounded, the downtrodden and hungry. This most powerful figure – an altogether divine figure – is found tending to those most in need, helping them secure their bandages. Imagine if those in Washington heeded this message and remembered our shared obligation to those with less than.

We are meant to see ourselves in the story. First, how many of us have truly been in need before? We have all been sick or hurting. Every one of us has been wounded, whether physically, emotionally, or otherwise. If not us directly, then surely we have been there as a friend or family member has experienced true hardship. These days, so many of us live with pain. So many across our nation live with emotional pain. So many of us live with fear. We fear the plague of homophobia, antisemitism, racism and xenophobia. We have anxiety around bullying and cruelty. So many of us are struggling in ways that are very real. We are the wounded in bandages.

Second, we all know that the greatest fulfilment comes not in money or material objects, but in rolling up our sleeves to “tie the bandages.” We have fed the food insecure. We have given tzedakah. We have sat with the ailing. These are the acts that give life purpose and remind us why we are here at all. Like the divine figure in the Talmudic story, we know that God’s work comes in the least flashy of moments. This applies not only to the physically ailing, but to those who have been wounded by exclusion, words of hate, acts of bigotry and malice. Our greatest fulfillment comes in leaning down and helping those in need of help. This is Judaism’s most powerful message.

I pray that the government does the right thing, ends the shutdown and takes a cue from our tradition. Even as we look on from a place of relative privilege, we know that our obligation is to those whose lives are hard and those who live with innate fear. I pray that we remember that our shared commitment is to those who live in the margins, not the rich and powerful, not the corporations, but the people simply seeking to live in tranquility and peace. May these scary times pass and pass soon. May we see greater understanding and compassion in the coming days. Amen.