We Remember Them

September 1, 2024
28 of Av 5784

Dear Congregational Family,

This is the thing about life nowadays: even as we try to live anything that resembles our normal cycle, life is punctuated by the vagaries of our continually surreal existence both here and today, especially in our Homeland. In Israel, today is the first day of school for children and here, most are preparing for the final BBQ of summer. All of it is made so utterly dark.

I awoke, as I know you did, to the misery of the news of six, young and vibrant Israeli hostages recently killed by Hamas, seemingly while the IDF was closing in. The news will become clearer during the days to come; but none of that clarity will soften or explain their brutal murders at the hands of the barbaric Hamas. We all knew that this result was possible and perhaps even probable. Intellectually we knew, but in our prayers and deepest yearnings we still held out hope. Today, indeed, our greatest fears have been realized. The light from their youthful smiles, the sparkle that came forth from their souls are extinguished; it is a finality that is hard to internalize as true.

First and foremost, none of us can ever fully understand how their families have been coping for the last 330 days. These families— the parents, siblings, spouses and children, have become symbols of our conviction, leadership and hope. None of them ever stayed stuck or depressed in bed. No, they travelled the world, spoke up to world leaders, led miles of marches, gave media interviews, slept in tents, wrote letters, demonstrated, and opened their lives for us to all see inside. They spoke, tears streaming, words demanding that we remember and do something, do anything to make happen what each one of us would want to happen: They wanted their children to come back to their embracing arms. They wanted to make them safe. They went to the Gaza border just a few days ago, to scream through bull horns so that perhaps their children would literally hear their love. They even broke through the border, deciding it was time to search for themselves. They did anything and everything they could. They have been our models of doing whatever we would to keep our children alive and safe.

Though we can imagine, none of us can fathom the misery and anguish they feel today. And it continues to be incumbent on us to stand with them when they are there and when they will visit us here. The only way they will continue to exist is to know that they are not alone. Though most of us do not know them personally, they are our Jewish family. They need to know that we will say Kaddish for their children this Friday night and every week just like they are our own. They need to know that we will continue to tell their stories and sing their songs. And, they need to know that we will continue to advocate on behalf of the hostages who still remain in Gaza. Each one of them needs to come home before they meet the fate of these six precious souls.

The politics may be complicated, but for these families it has been simple—bring our kids home! Bring every single hostage home! Israelis of all stripes are filling the streets demanding the same from their government. Again, I will not weigh in on politics, but as a father, husband, sibling, uncle, once son and cousin, we would all just want to hold them in the safety of our embrace.

Just a word about Hersh Goldberg-Polin. Perhaps his story is most familiar to us because he is also American. Perhaps it is because his parents were so poignantly articulate. Perhaps it is because his parents looked and sounded like so many of us. Whatever it is, I naively imagined what it would look like to see him come home. I don’t know them, but I have several close people in my life who know them intimately well. It feels so close. His smile lit me up. His arm, blown off by Hamas on October 7th was something I could never forget. His love of life was palpable. And now, it is gone, as is a piece of all of our hearts.

We are attaching the pictures and names of each of the six who perished. Please print them out or save them and internalize every face and story; so that we will say their names and hold them and their families in our hearts. Those families deserve that.

Hamas is a despicable, barbaric terrorist group. They have made our lives miserable. They have stolen so much from us physically and emotionally. And frankly, they have done the same to the innocents who are dying in Gaza. Indeed, we will do everything we can to support our brothers and sisters in this fight to both defeat Hamas, to ensure the safety of our Homeland and to, I pray, bring the rest of the hostages home to their families.

Please pray with us. Please stand with us. Please continue to act with us. Please continue to show up with us and remain on this journey. Israel continues to need us and we continue to need them.

I stand steadfast with hope and light, even on this dark day.

Am Yisrael Chai….now and always.

Love,

Matthew