Dear Friends,
I will never forget the image of Rachel Goldberg-Polin standing at the border with Gaza screaming her son Hersh’s name last week. Her pain and longing were palpable. It was chilling, and her mournful cries and expressions of longing are seared into many of our memories.
Sadly, as she called for her only son, Rachel was unaware that Hamas terrorists were about to execute twenty-three year-old Hersh as well as Eden Yerushalmi (24), Ori Danino (25), Alex Lobanov (32), Carmel Gat (40), and Almog Sarusi (27.) It was a tragic reminder of the enemies Israel confronts.
I heard the news and sat silently with my heartbreak for the murdered hostages and their families. Six beautiful lives ended after months of cruelty simply because Hamas would not let the IDF rescue them. (And this as Israel had just begun daily pauses in the fighting in order to inoculate thousands of children in Gaza against polio.)
I searched for words of comfort to share with all of you… but none came. I sat there and felt the full weight of the moment when our ancestor Aaron heard of the death of his sons Nadav and Abihu. He was so heartbroken and shocked that, as the Torah tells us, Aaron “dama”— Aaron simply sat there silently. He had no words.
Neither did I.
Then I began to read the news headlines and my sadness turned to anger. No, New York Times, Hersh and the other hostages weren’t “found dead.” No CNN, Hersh and the other hostages didn’t “die.” They were summarily executed by a fundamentalist extremist group hellbent on destruction.
Then Hamas, who have shown themselves to be remarkably effective at using propaganda as a weapon of war, released taunting videos of each of the six murdered hostages. That alone should tell the world who Israel is confronting. And yet, Hamas’ actions only seemed to embolden their supporters on the streets of America and in Europe.
My anger turned into something even deeper.
In many ways Hersh had given us some degree of hope in the midst of this ongoing horror. He had survived a horrific injury only to be taken captive. But he had survived. Perhaps if Hersh and the other remaining hostages could be freed, something positive might greet us in the New Year.
But Hamas would not allow that to happen.
As my colleague, Rabbi Josh Weinberg put it,
“We all hoped and prayed that they would come home soon, that there would be a deal, and any day now we would see these young faces leave the hell of the past 11 months behind and reunite with their families and loved ones. And then all that hope vanished in a moment when the world learned that their lives were brutally and swiftly taken by terrorists who denied their families and all of us the simple hope of reversing this nightmare into a dream. Rachel and Jon, and all of the family members of those stolen and held in captivity, waited like the biblical Jacob who thought that his son Joseph’s life was taken only to discover that he was brought out of a pit and reunited with his family. Rather, they received the tidings of Job, who learned that his children were forever taken from him.
Instead of welcoming these 6 souls back to life, we watched as their families and friends eulogized them and gathered together to bury them.”
He continued,
“[And] with the grief came rage.”
I still do not have the words. But my conviction to stand with our extended family in Israel, to put an end to Hamas’ brutality toward Israelis and Gazans alike, became stronger than ever. My support for, and encouragement of, Israelis taking to the street to demand new leadership did as well.
But while I would have hoped that this tragic turn of events would have finally convinced the world who Hamas and the other Iranian proxies are, that did not seem to happen. News outlets had an opportunity to finally share the reality of what Israel is dealing with but time and time again, they failed to do so.
Chris Cuomo was one of the few news anchors who truly seems to understand this moment. His words the other night gave voice to many of the words and thoughts that had escaped me. Here’s what he said.
I pray the remaining hostages are freed. I pray the suffering ends. I pray for new leadership in Israel and for the Palestinians. I pray for peace. That hope seems a bit further from reach this week… but we are the people of hope. And hope, and the work to transform that hope into action, are more important than ever.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Daniel Cohen