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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