We are all holding our breath this Shabbat.
For 735 days we have been wondering when the hostages might return home, when parents could embrace their children and begin to heal the wounds of that horrific Simchat Torah morning. Over the past days it has become clear that dream may come to fruition in a matter of hours. With the reporting that the ceasefire agreement between Israel and Hamas has gone into effect, now we await with bated breath, praying that in a few days the hostages emerge from the dungeons of their captivity into the warm embrace of their families and our people.
Recognizing that the best time for their return was 734 days ago—and every day since—there is something poetic of their return happening in this moment, during the festival of Sukkot. Our tradition calls this holiday “Zman Simchateinu,” the time of our rejoicing. Sukkot prompts us to rejoice in recalling our people’s redemption from the captivity of Egypt, our deliverance out of Pharaoh’s hands, and our arrival back to the Land of Israel. During this week we offer our gratitude for the protection the Holy One gave us on that precarious journey, and we ask for that protection now that our brethren be redeemed and brought home. What better reason could we have to rejoice than their safe return?
For two years we have prayed each Shabbat that it be the last of their captivity. We need to make that prayer again, but this week we make it with faith and a reasonable expectation that this time our prayers will be answered, that our brothers and sisters will be able to celebrate next Shabbat with their families, in the safety and comfort of our collective homeland. Entering into Shabbat, personally I am holding a sense of cautious optimism, twinged with trepidation that the dream we have willed for these two years might turn quickly into another nightmare of devastating disappointment.
Devastating disappointment is also a theme of our Torah reading this Shabbat. On this Shabbat during Sukkot is the story of Moses’ crisis of faith after the episode of the Golden Calf. He was distraught with the choices of his people, disappointed in how easily they abandoned their commitment to God. While he was not ready to give up on them, he called upon God for emotional and spiritual support to help him navigate his mix of anger and sadness. “O, let me behold Your presence,” he asked, yearning for an opportunity to see God’s face that would restore his faith and give him the strength to move forward guiding the people.
While Moses was not able to see God’s face (God instead shielded Moses’ eyes as the Divine Presence passed before him, allowing Moses to see God’s backside), our souls need to see the faces of our hostages. We need to know that they are home, that they are safe, and that they are on the road to recovery from their unimaginable ordeal.
With gratitude to all of the officials, governments, and nations who worked collaboratively to bring this agreement together, we now put the fate of this peace and our brothers and sisters into the hands of the Holy One, and make this prayer:
O Heavenly One,
On this Shabbat Zman Simchateinu, we know this moment when we know we are called upon to rejoice,
Our souls are weary and anguished, but our resolve is unshaken.
We pray that the peace that has come will hold, and that before our next Shabbat our hostages will be home. Look over them in these liminal days; let nothing get in the way of their return.
May the healing they need- of mind, body, and soul- come quickly to them, and may their families finally be able to breath freely with the knowledge that they are safe.
We hold in our hearts those who have not survived this harrowing ordeal, praying that their memories be a blessing and that You comfort their loved ones amongst all who mourn.
Please, O God, Let us behold the presence of our brothers and sisters as they make their way home, and may they and we be blessed with healing and with peace.
Shabbat Shalom and Moadim L’simcha,
Rabbi Greg Weisman
