SEPTEMBER 12 • 2024 | 5
J
N
How could Alex Lobanov, whose
wife gave birth to their second
child while he was in captivity,
documenting each new moment
of life to share with him, be
killed just miles away from
his new baby? How could
Almog Sarusi, who had already
experienced the agony of seeing
his girlfriend murdered at Nova,
suffer even more? How could
Carmel Gat, with her laughing
brown eyes, who cared for the
hostage children and taught them
yoga to help pass the time, be
taken from us? How could Eden
Yerushalmi, who hid for four
hours from monsters at Nova in
a shrub and begged her family in
her last words to save her, not be
saved?
These questions live in the
deep pain we feel. It’s not that we
don’t know who is to blame —
there is so much evil, guilt and
complicity. We know it was the
Hamas monsters who kidnapped,
ravaged, tortured and killed. We
know they are supported by Iran’s
axis of evil. We know they have
been emboldened by too many in
the West who refuse to condemn
their so-called resistance, by those
who have made the simple act of
holding up a poster of a hostage
outside of Israel feel like a stand
— one that could be met with
hate. We know that there is a toxic
lack of trust within Israeli society
and politics, to the point where
too many doubt whether Israel’s
government did all it could to save
the hostages.
But none of this takes away the
questions. None of this takes away
the pain. What happens to our
tears? What happens to our pain,
our heartbreak? How could it not
save them?
I dare not offer up answers
while the latest graves are fresh,
while 101 hostages are still in
Gaza. The pain is too raw. We
dare not lean into platitudes
when all we can do is sit with
our grief and embrace the silence
that follows such loss. We must
explain nothing and instead focus
on where we can be of service,
channeling our heartbreak
into action — supporting the
hostage families, advocating and
strengthening the bonds that unite
the Jewish people. Now is the time
to build trust and hold each other
close. Our enemies are still at our
door.
And as for the goblet, the tear
catcher — while I’ve let go of my
teacher’s certainty that there’s
a rim, that every tear could be
the one to break the dam and
bring the Messiah — these past
few months have convinced me
that there is a goblet catching
our pain up in the heavens. Our
tears are filling a massive Divine
chalice, some sort of miraculous
container that is holding the
immensity of our collective
pain. Every tear of our collective
grief is an expression of love.
It’s an expression of solidarity,
an expression of how deeply
connected we are as a people. And
that’s precious. That’s our most
potent weapon. That’s the place
where hope will grow again.
Dr. Mijal Bitton is the Rosh Kehillah of the
Downtown Minyan in New York City and
scholar in residence at the Maimonides Fund.
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