By Rob Goldberg
The Jewish people have been shrouded in death for too long, and this year, it is almost unbearable when one considers the massive loss of life on the single day of October 7, 2023. As we gather this evening to celebrate a new Jewish year and we approach the one-year anniversary of that dark day, our hearts are stirred, less by the sound of the shofar, and more by the sorrow that our Jewish family has experienced this past year.
And as we embrace 5785 with apples and honey, we remember those lives taken too soon, the children, parents, and grandparents, and those still unaccounted for in Gaza. The story of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, the 23-year-old American born Israeli wounded and abducted by Hamas during the Re’im music festival, held hostage and later executed on August 31, has been symbolic for us in the diaspora, and his mother’s unwavering determination to bring him home, a beacon. In Shiva, a book of collected poems about October 7, Hersh’s mother, Rachel, penned these words just two months after her son’s kidnapping:
There is a Yiddish Lullaby that says, “Your mother will cry a thousand tears before you grow up to be a man.”
I have cried a million tears in the last 67 days.
We all have.
How do we understand the tragedy of October 7 amid the circle of hopefulness that is the essence of the new year? How do we, like Rachel and other hostage families, who have borne the worst of the suffering, move on with hope while at the same time drowning in our collective tears?
I have attended too many funerals in the past month but am always struck by what we Jews say when acknowledging the one who has died: May their memory be a blessing. It is one way we reconcile loss by underscoring that the person now gone is never forgotten, and that their life was not lived in vain.
After Hersh Goldberg-Polin’s life ended in a tunnel in Gaza, family members posted this final message on his Instagram page: Hersh Goldberg-Polin z”l, was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists and murdered after surviving 11 months in captivity. May his memory be a revolution for good.
Memories should always be for blessing, but sometimes, they are a call for action.
As we approach the one-year anniversary of 10/7 and still find ourselves navigating its aftershock, the stories of resilience, heroism, and hope continue to emerge from the shadows. As we begin a new year this evening, may those stories be a call for action, a beacon for a better tomorrow.
Rob Goldberg is the former CEO of Buffalo Jewish Federation and currently serves as its Senior Advisor.
