Clergy Sermons

Israel President Isaac Herzog captured our emotions this week, when he said: “The hearts of an entire nation lie in tatters.”

Every loss is wrenching and devastating. This year has brought all kinds of anguish to our heats and our souls – but the loss of children hits in an even deeper place. Kfir was 9 months and Ariel was 4 when they were kidnapped. In many ways, we felt like they were our children. Their red hair and smiles touched us. We prayed and hoped – and those hopes were dashed in a renewed blow. The brutality and savagery of their murders in captivity, of not initially returning their mother Shiri’s body is too much to bear. Thank God Shiri was returned to be buried by her family. The loss is unfathomable. And we feel deeply the loss of Oded Lifshitz, the 85 year old peace activist, whose body was also returned.

Reflecting on these past days, Philosopher Bernard Henri Levy wrote: “After Oct. 7—after seeing the burned kibbutzim and gathering the testimonies of survivors—I was often asked if I had ever experienced anything similar. When I think of Kfir and Ariel Bibas and their mother, Shiri, I now answer: ‘No, I’m not sure I have ever encountered such horror.’”

Trying to find guidance and comfort in our sacred tradition, I often turn to the tragic story of the death of Aaron the High Priest’s two sons, Nadav and Avihu. The Torah uses two words to describe Aaron’s response: “Va’yidom Aharon -And

Aaron was silent." 15th Century commentator, Rabbi Don Isaac Abarbanel explains that Aaron’s heart “was still as stone… he no longer had any soul nor ability to speak.” Sometimes there are simply no words to contend with tragedy. Silence best captures our mourning – we too are dumbfounded and grief-stricken – unable to words. The Kotzker Rebbe teaches the “No cry is greater than silence.” For me, silence is the right response—not as acceptance, but as a great and bitter cry. Silence does not mean we grieve alone. In the face of unspeakable loss, we turn to each other. We cry as we hold one another. We do not carry our pain in solitude. We love more deeply. We reach out to the Bibas and Lifshitz families. As we mourn alongside them, we remain steadfast in our commitment to stand with them, in prayer and in love.

We also continue to rejoice at each hostage who comes home. Today Eliya Cohen, Omer Shem Tov, Omer Wenkert, Tal Shoham, Avera Mengistu and Hisham al-Sayed all came home. Thank God. May they recover and heal.

I conclude with another lesson from Aaron the High Priest. When he blesses the people, the word face- panav repeats. Ya’er Adonai panav elecha vi’chunecha - May God’s face enlighten You and be gracious to you. Yisa Adonai panav elecha, v’yasem lecha shalom May God lift God’s face to you and grant you peace. Why this repetition of panav? That is usually the first thing a child sees. They look up and see their parents face. They feel love and are seen. May God’s love and the

love of those we look to for comfort sustain us. Our love and hope will guide us through these painful days.