Thirteen Lessons

It has been 13 (Hebrew) months since Simchat Torah which is a day that will remain seared in my memory for the rest of my life. In this article I would like to share 13 personal insights and lessons relating to my experiences from the past year, as well as what I am feeling as I look ahead towards the upcoming year.

1. United in Mourning: Since last Simchat Torah I’ve attended many heartbreaking funerals and shiva houses, while a ner neshama has remained plugged into one of our kitchen sockets throughout this period as a reminder of this deep sense of pain and mourning. In particular, I vividly remember how my wife and I went to nearby Kiryat Gat on motzei Shabbat, October 14, while the sky continued to flash from the many Iron Dome interceptions above nearby cities to visit families sitting shiva whose children had either been murdered at the Nova festival or had been killed in battle either on Simchat Torah or in the days that followed. Unsure of where to go we stared at a local notice board on which were eight (!) different death notifications of men and women from the city, and simply based on proximity, the first shiva we went to visit was for 29-year-old Zlata Kosovsky, who was murdered along with her boyfriend Itai at the Nova festival. We didn’t know Zlata or her family who had emigrated from the Soviet Union in the 1990s, and having arrived in our Shabbat clothes to the public bomb shelter where the shiva was being held, we looked slightly out of place. However, having explained that we’d come to share in their pain and their loss, Zlata’s family was so grateful for our visit. We spoke. We hugged. We cried. And through doing so, we established a bond which continues till today.
2. Union Between Souls: In her book Bittersweet, Susan Cain explains that when people come together during times of loss to honor the memory of a loved one, they create a bittersweet “union between souls” – bitter, because of the pain, yet sweet, because the love between all those present is so palpable. Throughout this year there have been countless unions between souls in moments of utter heartbreak which have powerfully demonstrated that, despite our various differences, the Jewish people truly loves and cares about the Jewish people.
3. Visiting Be’eri: For various reasons, I was able to visit Kibbutz Be’eri in mid-November. As I wrote in a reflection later that day, the words numb, devastated, heartbroken and tears didn’t come close to describing how I felt. In particular, I stood outside a home where a terrorist had held 13 people hostage who were then murdered or burned to death. By that point only the bodies or DNA of 12 of those men, women and children have been found but it was thought that a 13^th person, a young girl, also perished there. And so, sitting in groups on the floor around this house were around 30 Zaka volunteers sifting through rubble for evidence of human remains. As I said to a friend, “I cannot make sense of the fact that I am standing here, around 40 minutes from where I live, watching Jews sift through dirt for evidence of dead Jews. But I am here to bear witness to the fact that this is what is happening.”

A few hours later they found remains which confirmed the death of the young girl. Yet despite all the physical evidence, and despite all the video evidence, much of the world chooses to overlook, and sometimes even deny, the evil that befell our people and our nation on that horrific day and since then. No longer do I wonder how the antisemitism that I learned about of the past came to be.

4. Sleep and Being Shocked By Evil: I used to take sleep for granted and I was someone who could genuinely sleep anywhere and anytime. But then came Simchat Torah, which sent a shockwave through me so fierce that I didn’t only experience an emotional and spiritual metamorphosis, but a physiological metamorphosis too. I couldn’t sleep in any meaningful way for months. True, I live in the south of Israel, 20 km from the Gaza border, which meant that during the first few months of the war the ground was perpetually shaking, and the sky was perpetually exploding. However, this was not what kept me awake. Instead, it was the sheer shock of what had taken place. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains, “Belief in G-d is an assertion of human dignity in the face of humiliation, and of hope in the midst of the dark night of despair. It is a refusal to accept evil as inevitable, but at the same time an acknowledgement that we cannot leave redemption entirely to G-d” (The Great Partnership, p. 247). Despite what we’ve gone through, I still continue to be shocked by evil, and this helps me ensure that I never normalize evil or accept it.
5. “Safe” Rooms: Since 1992, every newly built house or apartment in Israel must have a mamad, otherwise known as a safe room, which can protect an individual or a family from missile and rocket attacks. I am blessed to have a house with a mamad which provides a powerful sense of reassurance that even if a missile falls on my house, I should be safe in the mamad. Then came Simchat Torah, and when we heard those frightening phone calls made by women and men who were hiding in their mamadim we quickly understood that while these rooms protect us from missiles and rockets, they do not protect us from terrorist intruders (as they do not lock from the inside). This realization shocked the citizens of Israel, and just like 9/11 meant that we could never look at a plane in the same way again, 10/7 changed the way we looked at a safe room. Since then, many people have purchased additional bolts to lock their safe rooms from the inside.
6. IDF Soldiers: Especially since I did not serve in the IDF having made aliyah later in life, the respect and admiration that I have for our brave and heroic soldiers is boundless. Early in the war two army units moved into my yishuv, and while I was doing guard duty often late at night, I would bless these soldiers as they went out to fight, and if I was also there when they returned in the morning I would wave them back in with a deep sense of relief that they’d come “home” safely.

Alongside this, I felt a duty to acknowledge every death of every IDF soldier – often through posting their details on social media, while I also visited the shivas of many fallen soldiers. Still, there was a particular moment that truly changed me. In late November I was at Tel HaShomer hospital visiting a neighbor who was very unwell. As I was walking back to my car an army helicopter landed on a nearby patch of grass, at which point a soldier who’d been seriously injured on the battlefield was rushed into the ER. As I stood there, I saw the blood-stained stretcher and a lump swiftly developed in my throat. Yes, I’d sat with many families sitting shiva. And yes, I’d done whatever I could to support those IDF soldiers in my neighborhood. But in that moment, when that soldier was brought straight from the battlefield, the human cost of battle was more visible to me than ever before.

7. Earn This: There is a tragic yet beautiful scene in the movie Saving Private Ryan where Captain John Miller (played by Tom Hanks) uses his last breath to whisper to Private James Ryan (played by Matt Damon) “Earn this.” In these two words, which specifically referenced the huge sacrifices made by Captain Miller to find and save Private Ryan, whose three brothers had previously been killed in action, Captain Miller was saying that when others go above and beyond to protect us, we need to earn the gift which has been given to us. In the final scene of the movie, James Ryan visits the grave of John Miller and says, “Every day I think about what you said to me and I’ve tried to live my life the best that I could.”

Throughout this year I’ve remembered this scene and these words many times, and especially when I saw that injured soldier being brought from the battlefield, and when I’ve left the shiva homes of fallen soldiers, I’ve whispered these words “Earn this” and I’ve promised to live my life the best I can while never forgetting that I am alive due to the huge sacrifices that others have made.

8. Look Out For Others: What happened on October 7th and since then has triggered a huge mental health crisis in Israel and beyond. Given this reality I have regularly posted messages to “check in” with people in need of support, guidance or spiritual coaching. These have been small gestures. Still, when people are struggling, even the smallest of gestures can make a huge difference – as evident from the many responses I have received.
9. Be Kind To Yourself: While some of what I have described may sound impressive, there were many days when I was emotionally and spiritually burnt out, when I too needed chizuk, and when I realized that the only way I could help others is by first taking care of myself. And so, if you are reading this now, I ask that you look after yourself and that you be kind to yourself.
10. Celebrate The Good: There may be those who might think that given all the ache and pain that we have experienced that we shouldn’t celebrate the good during these times. I strongly disagree. Instead, whenever there has been something to celebrate, I have been quick to do so. If there is anything to learn from this past year, it is that life is fragile, and we should do whatever we can to celebrate whatever we can.
11. Hope & Hostage Rescues: While every hostage returned was a source of tremendous relief, I vividly remember motzei Shabbat, June 8, where we heard the incredible news about what has now become known as Operation Arnon (in memory of Arnon Zamora, z”l) when Noa Argamani, Shlomi Ziv, Almog Meir Jan, and Andrey Kozlov were dramatically rescued. Immediately after Shabbat we rushed to turn on the TV, and when we saw those images of family reunions, I – along with the rest of my family – burst with tears of joy. Naturally, we hope and pray to see further images, and so each time helicopters fly over my home (as they did when the first set of hostages were released, and as they did in subsequent releases), I pray that they are bringing home our people and I look forward with a sense of great urgency to when we will cry such tears again with the return of the rest of the hostages.
12. The Coming Year: Unfortunately, while we hope for good news, we know that this year will likely also bring further heartbreak since it was recently announced that half of the remaining hostages are no longer alive. Still, I continue to hope, I continue to refuse to accept evil, I continue to treasure the unity between souls that has been so palpable this year, and I continue to strive to live a life which reflects the message of “Earn this.”
13. Blessings: I mentioned that whenever our soldiers would go out and return from battle that I would bless them. And so, as we see one year out and welcome another, I am sending you blessings wherever you may be, while I hope and pray for the time when “G-d will wipe away the tears from our faces,” when we can then come together in joy and celebrate together as one.