Eight hundred forty-three days, twelve hours, five minutes and fifty-nine seconds.
That’s where the clock in Hostage Square stopped on Tuesday.
Ten million Israelis were able to exhale. It is finally October 8th.
With the recovery of the last hostage, Staff Sgt. Major Ran Gvili (z”l) השם יקום דמו, the hostage crisis which began on October 7th has come to a conclusion. No one was left behind. And more than than, for the first time since 2014 there are no Israeli hostages being held in Gaza.
Ran was a member of the Israel Police‘s Special Patrol Unit. And to put it simply, he was a gibor — a hero.
He was on medical leave and awaiting surgery for a shoulder injury on October 7th, but when the call came Ran did not hesitate to put on the uniform, grab his weapon, and run into danger. His body was recovered still dressed in that very same police uniform. Ran and his comrades initially fought at Kibbutz Alumim before heading to Sa’ad Junction, where they rescued survivors at the festival. After evacuating survivors, they went back to the kibbutz to fight off terrorists seeking to overpower its defenses. Even having been shot twice, it was there that Ran single-handedly killed 14 terrorists before he was himself killed.
A banner at his funeral read. “Harishon latzeit. Ha’acharon lachzor. “ First to go in. Last to return. His name will be remembered forever by the Jewish people. Let his story be taught in Sunday schools and in day schools. Let it be recited together with other legends of our people: Judah Maccabee, Bar Kochba, The Ghetto fighters, The Lamed Heh, Hannah Senesh, Moshe Dayan.
The soldiers and citizens of Israel did everything possible to bring each hostage home. The strength of the hostage families over these 844 days has been nothing less than superhuman. They fought. They marched. They screamed. They appeared on countless TV screens. They became household names. They traveled the world. They refused to give up. The average citizens of Israel also stood vigil, protested, set up memorials, remembered, and kept faith. They sang. They cried. They united. This sad victory is theirs too.
The unique Israeli bond to its missing sons and daughters is something other nations simply cannot understand. In front of the Knesset sits a monument of fire above water in memory of fallen IDF soldiers. Journalist Amit Segal notes that foreign guests often ask him if this is their Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It has to be explained that there is no such thing as an unknown soldier in Israel. Heroic efforts are made to redeem every single fallen soldier from anonymity. No other country is like Israel in this. Etched on the monument are these words from poet Leah Goldberg, “In their blood, the morning will rise.”
We have to tell some important truths about Ran’s recovery. First, he was not returned by Hamas. They gave false information. The IDF only received information about his whereabouts from a Islamic Jihad terrorist they captured. He was buried in a large Palestinian cemetery with unmarked graves. 700 IDF soldiers spent 24 hours digging up 249 bodies looking for Ran, sometimes with their bare hands. Each one required caution against booby traps. He was the 250th and final body. In Gematria the letters resh and nun — Ran — equal 250. As his father said, “Everything is guided from above.”
There will be a time for historical and moral judgement. And there will be a time and place for the citizens and leaders of Israel to reevaluate the policies that led to such a mass kidnapping. There will be time for blame, for commissions, for reckoning. But for today, for this moment, we simply thank God. We say, “They are all home.” Kulam baBayit.
And what of us here in America?
It has been a painful week. As a nation, we watched the fatal shooting of ICU nurse Alex Pretti in Minneapolis. I am not here to argue about what happened, the multiple videos are very clear on that. I can only share what Jewish tradition teaches us — that every life is sacred. The lives of protestors and observers. The lives of innocent immigrants. The lives of children swept up in this chaos. And yes, even the lives of those with whom we disagree.
We are commanded to honor the image of God, b’tzelem elohim, in every human being. Our task is to extend compassion to the mourners and to continue to act in accordance with our conscience. We can refuse cruelty wherever we witness it. We can speak out with courage. We can hold one another up. We can help our neighbors.
No. Can is not the right word. We must.
In this week’s Torah portion, Beshallach, we read:
Moses took the bones of Joseph with him, for he had bound the sons of Israel by an oath that they should bind their descendents by an oath saying, “God will surely remember you — pakod yifkod — and you must take up my bones from here with you.
There are no coincidences in history. The redemption of our people from ancient days is echoed still today. The Children of Israel could not move forward out of Egypt into the Land of Promise without Joseph. We could not move forward without Ran. As his body was found and identified, soldiers gathered spontaneously and sang a hymn of faith, “Ani Maamin.” “I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Mashiach, and, though he tarry, I will wait daily for his coming.”
May the time of the final redemption come soon. A time free from senseless violence and chaos, when each may sit in peace under their vine and fig tree, and when none may make any of us afraid.