Rabbi Brad Levenberg
This past Monday brought a measure of relief that many of us have been holding, for which many of us have been hoping, with tight hearts: the body of Ran Gvili, the last hostage, was brought home from Gaza. We welcomed the Gvili family into the circle of those once again united with their loved ones after October 7, a reunion that brought complicated emotions, for as grateful as we are that he is finally home, we lament the pain and sadness that accompany his return. Relief and sorrow are not opposites here. Like so much of Jewish life these days, they sit side by side.
While the videos of soldiers singing and crowds in Hostage Square with muted applause—while the clock tracking the time the hostages were not home—stopped at 843 days, 12 hours, and 6 minutes are quite powerful, a more local moment resonates with me most. At a meeting on Tuesday, our synagogue president, Chuck Fox, removed the yellow ribbon he had been wearing from his lapel. That ribbon has been a visible sign of resolve, of refusing to look away, of holding fast until all were home, and I am proud of Chuck for his steadfastness.
I will share that seeing it come off did not feel like closure so much as a turning point, signaling that the chapter of waiting has closed and a new chapter of remembering and retelling has begun. What do we do now that the story is no longer unfolding yet remains unfinished?
Moments like this don’t offer answers so much as they rearrange our priorities. The end of the vigil does not tell us what to feel, but it does clarify where we now stand. No longer watching the clock, our task now is to refuse to let what was endured be flattened into something easier to hold. What we do next, in the absence of urgency, will say as much about us as the long days that got us here.
May we not rush back to the October 6 “normal” unchanged by these days. May we not allow the paralysis born of October 7 to define who we will become in the years ahead. And may we meet the pull of short memories and easy conclusions not by forgetting but by choosing to stay engaged now that no one is counting anymore.
