Bring Them Home (Rabbi Shalhevet)
We Jews base our religious experiences on our origin story as freed slaves from Egypt. It is in the very fabric of our souls. We were in bondage and God brought us out to freedom.
We are living our own Exodus story now. As we celebrate the freedom of seven hostages in the last two weeks, we fear for those still in captivity. We care and share the suffering of those who are still awaiting word of their loved ones.
Just as our ancient ancestors exited Egypt wounded both physically and emotionally, our freed brothers and sisters are in need of healing and our support. Just as we wandered through a desert before entering the Promised Land, our beloved Israel, our freed family, their loved ones, in fact, all of us as Jews, have a long road ahead of us. But also, just like our ancestors, we will follow God, stay supported by our community and our heritage, and – God willing – once again, enter the land of milk and honey.
We pray that the cease-fire remains and all sides continue to hold to their agreements so that all hostages may be returned home to the love of their families.
As we witness the miracle of our hostage brothers and sisters returning home, we stand with each other in trepidation, anticipation, celebration, and yes, also sadness. At this time, I offer you a prayer written by Brandeis University Professor Reuven Kimelman.
“O healer of broken hearts, binder of their wounds” (Psalm 147:3)
be with our brothers and sisters who have been taken captive
and with the families of the victims.
Watch over the hostages, break their bonds,
and bring them out from darkness to light.
“Proclaim release to the captives; liberation to the imprisoned” (Isaiah 61:1)
Comfort the families of all those murdered
bring them under the shelter of Your wings.
Bring complete healing of body and spirit to all of the wounded,
bind up our wounds and grant us healing.
Shomer Yisrael, Guardian of Israel,
May we see the promise of the Psalmist:
הָפַכְתָּ מִסְפְּדִי לְמָחוֹל לִי פִּתַּחְתָּ שַׂקִּי וַתְּאַזְּרֵנִי שִׂמְחָה
“You turned my mourning into dancing…
my sackcloth into robes of joy” (30:12)
God, protect, preserve, and restore peace and well-being to Israel — your people.
Welcome home, B’ruchot Ha’baot, to Emily, Romi, Doron, Karina, Daniella, Liri, and Naama. And we pray that we may welcome home this week six more hostages, including Arbel Yehud and Agam Berger.
Rabbi Jaimee Shalhevet
Shiri, Ariel, Kfir and Oded (Rabbi Shalhevet)
February 20, 2025 by nssadmin • Blog
Today we mourn with the families of Shiri Bibas, Ariel Bibas, Kfir Bibas and Oded Lifshitz, as their bodies were returned home to Israel. Oded was a peace activist. In his memory we must never give up hope for a peaceful future. In his honor we must continue to look for allies. We may never make peace with those bent on being our enemies, but that doesn’t mean we get to give up. We fight to remain pursuers of peace.
The video and subsequent still pictures of Shira, a loving mother, clutching her two tiny red-headed sons as they were kidnapped from their home on October 7th are seared into many of our minds. The depravity of a group that could harm – close up and personal – and kill two beautiful little children still boggles our minds. And yet we are faced with such a tragic reality today as their father, Yarden Bibas, himself a hostage for almost 500 days returned to life only to receive and need to bury his wife and children. Three generations (for Shira Bibas’s parents were killed on October 7th as well) of the Bibas family were murdered by Hamas. Killed yes, but never ever forgotten. We as Jews have learned something incredibly important during our thousands of years of continued persecution: they may kill some of us, perhaps thousands and even millions, but we as a people will survive. Not one of us dies and is forgotten or erased. We will remember. We will live in order to keep their memories alive. We will fight in their honor.
The Poet Hannah Yerushalmi wrote,
To receive our dead
How do we prepare
to receive our dead?
with stones from Jerusalem
in our pockets, anchoring us,
with red anemones in our hands,
and a knife wedged in our hearts.
With murmurs of ancient laments
on our parched lips as
We drag our feet with halted steps
to receive those dear souls
because not a single one of us
wants to face this news.
How do we prepare
to receive our dead?
With numb spirits,
Fragmented for months,
with our right hands,
lost and withered
with our left hands
wiping at our infinity of tears.