We needed this.
That was my initial, gut-driven thought when Shabbat lunch guests at our home informed me that Israel had miraculously rescued four hostages from the Nuseirat refugee camp.
Yes, we needed this news, lest we forget that eight months ago, the serenity of both our beloved Shabbat and our joyful Simchat Torah were both hideously shattered when news of Oct. 7 spread at thousands of synagogues and in millions of Jewish homes.
And lest we also forget, news of a crazed gunman who, for 11 hours, held four people hostage at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, Texas also broke during Shabbat in January 2022. Four years earlier, during a Shabbat in October 2018, Jews were horrified to learn that 11 people were murdered at the Tree of Life synagogue in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh.
The list never ends, including anxious Jews worldwide learning that Israel was facing near-annihilation as they prayed solemnly in synagogues during Yom Kippur services in 1973, to say nothing of the somber tone of Shabbat services worldwide during the Holocaust and World War II.
My second response upon hearing the joyous news related to the four hostages appeared in the form of a question. Why, I asked myself, must Jewish history and Jewish existence itself always include broken glass?
I wasn’t referring to the broken glass of the devastating Kristallnacht or pogrom variety; that is, sadly, a given. I was referring to the broken glass beneath the wedding chuppah, a pristine, whole vessel that is shattered during a celebration marking the most important event in the life of two Jews: a marriage that ensures Jewish continuity.
Mere seconds after the happiest moment in the life of a Jewish couple, the sound of broken glass is meant to remind them of the ancient destruction of Jerusalem and the fall of the holy Jewish temples that resulted in the painful exile we know today.
Some of the happiest moments in Jewish history have also included broken glass. Even the 1976 rescue at Entebbe, one of the greatest Jewish miracles of the last century, was tempered by the terrible loss of Lt. Col. Yoni Netanyahu, one of the finest and bravest military officers in Jewish history.
Last Shabbat, our joyous chuppah moment arrived with the safety and return of Noa Argamani, Shlomi Ziv, Andrey Kozlov, and Almog Meir Jan. But our shattered glass, never to be replaced, was the loss of Lt. Col. Arnon Zamora, who gave his life to rescue the hostages. Zamora, z”l, leaves behind a wife and two children.
Several seconds after I rejoiced at the release of the hostages, I wept for the loss of a young husband and father. How can anyone hold space for such unbelievably different emotional states — rejoicing and sorrow; gratitude and grief? I suppose it is all in a day of being a Jew.
I reveled in the amazing news until Shabbat ended and I read the headlines: “Israel rescues hostages from Gaza, leaving trail of death and destruction” (The Washington Post); “Israel’s raid to free hostages takes ‘horrific’ toll on central Gaza” (Financial Times); and the worst headline, “Collateral Genocide in Nuseirat” (Al Jazeera). It was obvious that the world could not and would not believe that the pesky lives of four Jews was worth what it took to save them from the hands of murderous terrorists.
It was also obvious that the world still doesn’t understand that thousands of innocent Palestinians didn’t have to die, and neither did the 1,200 Israelis and the countless IDF soldiers who have perished since last October. Lt. Col. Arnon Zamora, z”l, didn’t have to die. Every single death as a result of Oct. 7 is solely on Hamas, and that includes the innocent Palestinians who died as a result of Israel’s rescue operation last week.
The world could not believe the extent to which Israel would go to save four lives, but Jews didn’t see it that way. As generations of Jews have learned in the Talmud, “Whoever saves a single life is considered by scripture to have saved the whole world” (Sanhedrin 37a).
Many in the West and the Arab world seemed to express horror that an entire country (Israel) was taking to the streets to celebrate four lives. This is another reminder that the Jewish value for life is simply extraordinary.
Many in the West and the Arab world seemed to express horror that an entire country (Israel) was taking to the streets to celebrate four lives. This is another reminder that the Jewish value for life is simply extraordinary.
It also begs a question: Should those who despise Israel the most be allowed to choose if and how Israel rescues its hostages?
Unlike the United States, Israel will not draw certain red lines. President Biden knows that American hostages are being held in Rafah, but he still described an Israeli invasion of Rafah as crossing a red line. As one friend recently told me, “There should never be a red line when it comes to rescuing American hostages. The red line should be NOT doing everything it takes to get them back.”
It is also vital to note the inhumanity of another superpower: China. According to Ynetnews, “Since the early days following Noa Argamani’s abduction from the Nova music festival on Oct. 7, the Israeli Foreign Ministry and the Israeli Embassy in Beijing made numerous attempts to persuade Chinese officials to assist in her release, given her mother’s Chinese heritage.”
The story continued, “Humanitarian pleas went unanswered, and Chinese state media did not report on the abduction of an Israeli-Chinese individual … An Israeli source expressed deep disappointment with Beijing’s handling of the situation, noting the lack of effort to assist and Israel’s encounter with zero empathy.”
The Chinese government refused to help secure the release of Argamani because Chinese officials told their Israeli counterparts, Argamani is “only half Chinese” and “lacked Chinese blood.”
Can you imagine if Israel had not rescued Argamani, with the justification that she “lacked Israeli blood”? And people call Israel inhumane.
I believe that each of the four hostages will soon pay a grateful visit to the home of Lt. Col Zamora, z”l. For her part, Zamora’s 33-year-old widow, Michal, recently said, “Everything is filled now with the picture of the hero, Commander Arnon Zamora, of blessed memory. But before he was a warrior and hero, he was a sweet and wonderful man. A fantastic husband and a perfect father. A man who loved and was loved. That’s how we are going to remember him. And I will be happy if you also remember him that way.”
This painful, yet miraculous, year is proof that in Judaism, randomness is a shaky concept. After a remarkable week of both joy and pain, I leave readers with an observation that is being shared widely among traditional Jews, and is anything but random: If we consider the first Hebrew letter in the name of each rescued hostage, Noa, Shlomo, and Andrey and Almog (A), those letters together spell “Naso” — the very name of this week’s Torah portion.
And in a week when a number seemingly small as four means the world to Jews and Israelis, in Hebrew, “Naso” means …“Count.”
May the family of Arnon Zamora, z”l, be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. We will never forget his incredible bravery and sacrifice.
Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael.