Dear Friends,
While in Israel last month, I had the chance to visit Kibbutz Nir Oz, one of the kibbutzim nearest the Gaza Strip. The cognitive dissonance as we walked into the kibbutz was unimaginable. On October 7, 2023, about 150 Hamas terrorists entered the kibbutz and killed or abducted 180 of the roughly 400 residents. And yet, I was struck by how beautiful the kibbutz was. Tall trees, green grass, and abundant flowers and shrubs made it look like a paradise. But it was quiet. Chillingly quiet.
You see, even now, sixteen months later, the kibbutz is empty. And as we walked deeper into the kibbutz with our guide, the reality of what occurred there became clear. We walked past burned-out house after burned-out house, as broken children’s toys still lay strewn on the lawns. In some places, there were large open lots where homes had stood. These had been among the most damaged of the homes, and they had been torn down carefully so as to save the trees and plants surrounding them. “We will rebuild,” our guide, Julie Atzili told us, “and when we do, we want to keep the beauty of this place as intact as possible.”
Julie shared her story with us.
On October 7, she said, she and her husband, Aviv, were awoken by the incoming missile fire. By the end of the day, she had been kidnapped and taken into Gaza. Only when she was released 54 days later did she learn that her husband, the love of her life, was killed trying to defend his community. He was just 49. “This,” she said, pointing to one of the destroyed homes, “was our home.” She paused briefly and then said, “Life has to be lived. And I can’t wait to come home,” adding, “but maybe to a nicer house.”
Her grief was palpable, and I was left dumbstruck by her strength, resilience, and ability to look forward even as she continued to mourn.
I left the group briefly and, as I headed back to rejoin the group, I bumped into my friend Daniel Lifshitz. I met Daniel last summer, and we quickly became friends. Despite numerous attempts to connect over the prior week, we had not seen each other, and yet, there he was at Nir Oz. Only in Israel.
Daniel’s family is from Nir Oz, and his grandparents had been kidnapped and taken hostage in Gaza. Daniel’s grandmother had been released in the first hostage exchange, but his grandfather, Oded, was still held in Gaza. In the months since, Daniel had become a vocal advocate for all the hostage families. One of the leaders of the Hostage Family Forum and intimately involved in the ongoing negotiations with Hamas, Daniel had channeled his pain and worry into action.
Sadly, Oded Lifshitz’s body was one of the four returned to Israel yesterday. When I heard the news, I wrote the following:
I never met Oded, but I did meet and become friends with his grandson, Daniel, last summer. And the more I have learned about Oded, the more I understand the concept of “apples from the same tree.” Like Daniel, Oded was known for his kindness, his activism, and his clear moral compass.
Oded was the best of us. For more than a decade, he volunteered to take Gazans for medical treatment in Israel. His was a life filled with acts of kindness. He didn’t talk about it. He didn’t post about it on social media. He simply did. The world is a better place because he was here.
His murder is such a tremendous loss for his family, but it is also a tragedy for our entire Jewish community and for anyone who believes in peace and coexistence.
After giving Daniel a hug, I rejoined the group.
We walked to the home of the Bibas family, we placed orange flowers, and we prayed. While we knew it was unlikely, even then, almost a year and a half later, we prayed they would come home alive. Sadly, as we learned yesterday, that would not come to pass.
9-month-old Kfir and his four-year-old brother Ariel had been brutally murdered a little over a month after the initial attack. And while Hamas claimed to also return the body of their mother Shiri, forensics have now revealed that it is not her.
As I wrote Wednesday,
These beautiful children and family have been in our hearts from the very beginning of this horrific time. We hoped. We prayed. We held our breath. Perhaps if they came home safely, we could feel some measure of comfort at a time when comfort is so hard to find. For the past few weeks, if not months, we have now been expecting this horrific news, but there is “knowing” and there is “knowing.” And knowing they won’t be coming home once again shatters the soul. May their memories be for a blessing. And may their dear father and husband recover physically from his ordeal and find the support he so very deserves from those surrounding him with love.
Rabbi Klein shared a powerful tribute to Kfir and Ariel on her Facebook page. It brought me to tears, and I have little doubt it will do the same for you. Please take a moment to search it up online.
For many of us, yesterday felt like we were back on October 7, 2023. And while it would be easy to fall into despair or become embittered, I keep going back to Julie’s words as we stood in front of what had been her home – “Life has to be lived. And I can’t wait to come home.”
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Daniel Cohen