Clergy Blog

Dear Friends,

Last week was a week of elation. Like many of you, I couldn't stop watching the coverage from Israel of the hostages coming home. Shofar blasts for Alon Ohel. Matan Zangauker hugging his mother. Tears of joy. Immense smiles. Omri Miran playing with his children at the beach. Matan Angrest singing with Israeli superstar Omer Adam. And so much more.

Last year, we purchased a Torah mantle as part of the Simchat Torah Project. We wanted those killed on October 7 to not only be remembered, but forever close to our torah—dancing again, if not in life, then in memory. And so, with our Torah, with our Simchat Torah joy, we held and will continue to hold the memory of Staff Sergeant Burhanu Kassie, born in Ethiopia, made aliyah at 9, fought in Nahal Oz, killed in Khan Yunis in 2023. He will forever be remembered.

The Torah mantle says, Eit Lispod v'Eit Lirkod—a time for mourning, and a time for dancing. This Simchat Torah, we danced, with a joy for which we've been waiting to feel for two long years.

Marking this moment, many colleagues have written about removing their dog tags and yellow ribbon pins now that the living hostages are home. I've seen rituals developed for removing them, some including melting them down, or creating new art, or burying them. For them, the time has come for the healing to begin. But not for everyone, though.

I've tried to take mine off. I can't. Not because I'm holding onto the past, but because I can’t yet believe we’re finished. In English, my tag reads "Bring them home—NOW!" In Hebrew, it's different. "Halev Shelanu Shavui B'Aza." Our heart is captive in Gaza. Families of those whose bodies Hamas holds onto remain in a state of limbo, held in the static of unresolved grief. They know that their loved ones are long gone, but they cannot confirm it. They cannot receive the concrete proof that is sometimes needed to accept reality. They cannot perform the greatest act of love we can perform, the mitzvah of burial, ensuring that the physical parts of the people we've loved will forever be treated with dignity and respect.

It is a necessary mitzvah to bury the dead, and even more so, it is a necessary process for mourners to move forward. I wish I could stop wearing the dog tag, but too many hearts remain captive in Gaza.

Our work continues. Our support continues. While the living may be home, Hamas still holds loved ones and continues to hold hearts captive. This cannot be over until every Israeli is brought home, until every family can bury those they love, and until the long walk towards healing can begin. 

Shabbat shalom,

 

Dave