Laughter, Legacy, and Love for Israel: Elan Gold Shines at Palm Beach Synagogue’s 31st Gala
At the 31st Annual Gala of Palm Beach Synagogue, comedian Elan Gold brought down the house with a masterful performance that blended sharp wit, heartfelt admiration, and his signature Jewish humor. Held in the heart of one of America’s most prominent Jewish communities, the event honored leadership, unity, and resilience — with Gold delivering a comedic tour-de-force that celebrated all three.
The evening began with Gold announcing his “personal news” — that Paul Singer was his “biological father,” a zinger that immediately established the evening’s tone. In just a few words, Gold reminded the room that this was going to be more than a standard gala speech — it was going to be comedy with a purpose.
Throughout his set, Gold danced between affectionate roasting and reverent praise. He lauded Rabbi Moshe Shiner and Deini for building a vibrant, values-driven community, while poking fun at donors who might not have nailed the brief (like funding a “mala” instead of a mikvah). With impeccable timing, he riffed on Jewish identity, Israel, and the often absurd ways diaspora Jews relate to their heritage — and to Hebrew.
But what elevated the performance beyond laughs was the depth of Gold’s message. Behind the jokes about Pharaoh’s admiration for Jewish work ethic and Elon Musk’s “Asberger” restaurant concept, there was a steady drumbeat of solidarity. “You are fighters,” he told the audience. “Fighters for Israel and for the Jewish people.”
His impersonation of Donald Trump — complete with over-the-top boasts about doing more for Israel than anyone else — was both hilarious and pointed. Gold’s political comedy wasn’t about sides, but about substance. He reminded the room that support for Israel transcends party lines, and his own “issue-based” approach is driven by a singular devotion to the Jewish people and their homeland.
A particularly poignant moment came when Gold recalled performing for IDF soldiers. In the middle of thanking them for “saving our people,” a commander interrupted him to say, “We are not saving our people. We are saving all people.” That line hit the audience hard. Gold used it to drive home the broader truth: that Israel isn’t just defending itself — it’s standing on the front line for Western civilization.
From a satirical reimagining of Jews as “bungalow colonizers” in the Catskills, to a painful and funny critique of Hebrew school education (15 years and still can’t speak Hebrew?), Gold channeled collective Jewish experiences into comedy that felt both personal and universal.
Perhaps the most Jewish part of the evening was Gold’s ability to find meaning in humiliation. He recounted a recent corporate gig that went terribly wrong — a rooftop Yiddish-speaking HVAC company that didn’t “chap” a single joke. Afterward, two Hasidic men asked him for a blessing, citing the belief that someone who’s endured deep public embarrassment holds a unique spiritual power. “Make sure this never happens to anyone else,” they pleaded. It was funny, sad, and strangely holy — like the best Jewish stories always are.
By the end of the evening, Elan Gold had done more than entertain. He reminded the Palm Beach Synagogue community why they gather, why they give, and why they laugh together: because Jewish continuity — in America, in Israel, and around the world — depends on joy as much as it does on strength.
It was a night of pride, humor, and unshakable connection. And in Elan Gold’s hands, it was unforgettable.
