Posted on September 24, 2025
Reflections on Returning to Israel
Before embarking on my trip to Israel I could tell that our daughter Gabby was more concerned than usual. She was not just anxious about me going away, she was worried about my safety while in Israel. The card she put in my luggage, left me in little doubt as she wrote about staying very very very safe while there. Her feelings were understandable given what she sees on the news and coming only a few months after facetiming with her cousin while he sat in a bomb shelter because of the threat of Iranian rockets.
The truth is there was only one time when I felt actively unsafe and scared while I was in Israel. At the very end of my trip the taxi driver who took me to the airport seemed to be in an unwarranted rush to get me to check in early. I felt like I was in one of those video games my children play as he pressed down on the accelerator, moved from lane to lane, and pressured other drivers to get out of his way. And I sat in the backseat reflecting on the fact that this drive was undeniably the most dangerous part of my visit. Fear in an Israeli taxi speeding on the highway, was one of those familiar experiences. And I might have been the first person ever tempted to kiss the ground at Ben Gurion, not when arriving in the country, but simply for making it safely to the airport before leaving.
I had been determined to get to Israel in advance of these High Holy Days. Unsurprisingly in the last two years I have given more Israel-related sermons than ever before, and I was feeling guilty that my words were coming from websites, conversations, and lectures rather than firsthand experiences. I had tried to join previous missions, but it just never worked out. And I felt a need to show up for the people and the country, to visit in person, to see my family, and to see for myself (as much as one can in four days) what the situation was really like.
It is striking how simultaneously everything feels similar and normal, but also different and strange. Places looked and felt the same, the people have the familiar warmth and energy; the sounds, smells, and tastes all evoke memories from previous visits. But there is a difference. You cannot go more than a minute without a reminder of the plight of the hostages. Walking down the entryway at Ben Gurion airport, you are greeted by their, with the signs that have become so familiar. When I went for a run along the Tel Aviv promenade, every few seconds there was another banner pleading for their return. Shops have the yellow ribbon hanging in the window, a sign saying “Bring Them Home Now,” or some other reminder that the hostages are still trapped in Gaza. And those yellow ribbons are everywhere, people are wearing them, they’ve affixed them to their cars, they are in the windows of buses, and they are projected on buildings.
The fate of the hostages is an everyday, regular, and recurring concern for the people. Their faces, their names, their stories have become a part of the Israeli consciousness. One gets the feeling that as long as the hostages are held in Gaza it remains October 7th with the country unable to fully move on or return to life as normal, whatever that word normal will actually mean in this new reality.
Many of the speakers talked about the impossibility of the current situation – not just because of the difficulty of the challenges that Israel is facing, but because of the competing needs or values that are at odds with one another. Our first speaker, Dr. Einat Wilf, a former Member of Knesset,1 talked about the need to rescue the hostages and destroy Hamas, using the language of “Sophie’s choice.” She likened the current situation to the ethical dilemma of the trolley problem – do you divert a runaway trolley to kill one person instead of five, or do nothing and let the five die?2 She reflected on what could have been done and what should have been done earlier in the conflict, but there was no obvious solution or approach to solve the problem today.
We met with Yotam Polizer the CEO of IsraAID, an international non-governmental humanitarian aid organization. They have worked in over 60 countries across the globe, providing aid and support; but until October 7th they had never worked in Israel. With the evacuation of the Kibbutzim and residents from the north, the expertise of IsraAID in supporting refugees was needed for the displaced Israelis.
And in the last several months they have stepped in to support the distribution of aid in Gaza. They have been able to serve as a conduit between Israel and the humanitarian organizations wanting to help the people. And while Yotam and his team are on the frontlines of providing support, he too recognizes the impossibility of the situation with the need to balance, in his words, Israel’s real security concerns with the real humanitarian needs of the people in Gaza. His team and their partners are doing amazing work, but the risks are real, the dangers are real. As he shared, restricting aid does not harm Hamas, because they and their people have all the food they need, it is the general population of Gaza who suffer, they are the ones going hungry and who need help. But because of the way that Hamas behaves, because of the security concerns, distributing aid to the people who really need it is not as simple as it should be.
And from several of the people that we got to meet, and reiterated by my own family members, there is a clear tension for those who love their country, are committed to Israel and her people, but are appalled by the current Government and their actions. They are desperately scared of the direction in which this leadership is taking Israeli society. They are stuck in the impossible situation of supporting their Israel while vehemently opposing their Government.
For many of them this feeling did not begin on October 7th. For some it began with the installation of this Government that includes politicians from the extreme right, who speak with words that are eerily reminiscent of fascist and extremist movements. For some it began with the attempts to reform the judiciary, and as such to challenge the democratic nature of Israeli society. But for all of them this tension was exacerbated on October 7th and the Government’s response since that day. But it’s still complicated – the Government didn’t act strongly enough in the immediate days following that assault on Israel, but they are acting too strongly now, in a way that puts the lives of the hostages, along with the lives of innocent Gazan children at risk. There is almost universal agreement that Hamas needs to be removed and can no longer rule in Gaza, but there is no agreement or real picture of what the day after looks like. There are divisions between the Israel Defense Forces and the Government, and this is exacerbated by the ongoing crisis around drafting Haredim, the ultra-orthodox, into the military.
While the nature of the current moment is such that it is not possible to visit Gaza or the West Bank, we did have an opportunity to be guided by a Palestinian in Jerusalem. He took us to the Qalandiya crossing to see the checkpoint that Palestinians have to go through to enter and leave the West Bank, the way in which the wall has divided towns and neighborhoods. While we stood in Israel, this was not an Israel I am used to seeing, and with the signs and structures it was clear that it was a wall I am not supposed to cross. The pain and repercussions of October 7th have been felt by the Palestinians not just in Gaza, but those in the West Bank, and even those who are citizens of Israel. There is a tension in the area that is almost palpable.
The situation is impossible, and the situation is so sad.
Our travels took us down to the south towards the Gaza envelope, where we visited both Kibbutz Nir Oz and the site of the Nova massacre. Of the kibbutzim near Gaza, Nir Oz was the one that was most affected by the Hamas attack – 1 in 4 of her residents were murdered or taken hostage on that fateful day. Many of the buildings were set on fire and the scenes of destruction are visible as you walk through the kibbutz stepping over broken glass and the remnants of people’s homes. Among the houses we walked past was the home of Yarden, Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir Bibas, the children’s toys were still there in the front yard, covered in dust and ashes, a reminder of the life that once filled this community.
Our guide Rita, is the daughter-in-law of Yocheved and Ofer Lifshitz, both were taken hostage to Gaza, Yocheved returned alive, Ofer, a peace activist, was tragically murdered there. Rita told us stories about the people whose lives were ended or who were taken hostage, so that they became more than just faces on signs. She shared stories about how beautiful the kibbutz was. And she made clear the commitment they have to return home and rebuild.
We also had a chance to visit the site of the Nova massacre; this was simply an expanse in the wilderness, an open space where people could gather together and dance, it has now become a memorial. There are some huts and some markers related to the events of the day, but there are two primary sections of memorial. One part is dedicated to a display of red anemone (kalanit) flowers in the shape of a Magen David – a Jewish star. These flowers evoke memories of the poppies on the fields of World War 1, their red color symbolizes the blood that was spilled, and there is also a message about life growing again. And then there are the boards dedicated to the memories of the people who were murdered. So many boards with pictures and stories of those whose lives were cut short. It is a reminder that behind the names of the victims there were lives and families, stories that need to be told, shared, and remembered.
I couldn’t help but wonder if this would become one of the sites, alongside places like Yad Vashem or the cemetery on Mount Herzl, that are required parts of a visit to Israel. Places that we go to pay our respects and to remember the dead. The challenge is that the Nova site does not remember a historic event from another century, it remembers events of less than two years ago. The colorful pictures of vibrant young people around the site, somehow make it feel current and recent.
The situation is impossible, the situation is so sad, but there is still hope.
At the Nova site we met Millett, a survivor of that attack. She and her friends had come together to celebrate nature and to dance through the night. Ultimately, she found herself running for two hours to escape the carnage, and then hiding under a bush, covered in dirt, to evade the terrorists who walked close by. But that is not where her story ends. She spoke to us to bear witness, to remember friends, and to tell us about the Tribe of Nova foundation that has been established to support the survivors and victims. She shared her favorite quote with us: “there will not be a victory of light over darkness until we realize the simple truth that we simply have to turn on the light.” She is turning on the light and fulfilling the rallying cry of Nova survivors that they will dance again.
We met with Sasha Troufanov, who was held hostage in Gaza for 498 days after being kidnapped from Kibbutz Nir Oz by Islamic Jihad terrorists. His girlfriend, his mother, his grandmother were also held captive by Hamas and released in the ceasefire of November 2023. He returned home to discover that his father had been murdered on October 7th. He endured unimaginable torture – physical and psychological. You could understand if he had given up on life, but he has not. He is now engaged to his girlfriend Sapir Cohen, and together they are planning a wedding. He is traveling around the world and speaking to groups to continue fighting for his friends from Nir Oz who are still held captive and for all of the hostages. He is an inspirational young man, and his strength of character and resolve is truly amazing.
And then there are the countless Israelis who are doing their bit for their country. We met with a number of amazing organizations that have been supported by CJP to help Israel’s recovery – Regrow that is helping farmers in the south, HaGal Sheli that is providing psychological support through surfing, and Dror Israel who opened daycare and emotional-educational support centers for the displaced children. That is to say nothing of the people who are working tirelessly at the Hostage and Missing Families Forum, they have built an international movement to support the hostages and their families, to make sure their plight is not forgotten.
And beyond these organized groups there are so many other hopeful examples. The people who no longer go out to a restaurant or concert on Saturday evening, but have committed themselves to attend the weekly protest for the hostages to show solidarity and support to their families. The people who banded together to support the thousands of displaced families from the north and the south, ensuring that they wanted for nothing in their temporary homes. In the aftermath of the Iran bombings, as people were displaced from damaged apartment blocks, I heard about Israelis who came to their aid, and with elevators out of commission, climbed up and down multiple flights of stairs, multiple times to help them recover clothes and essential items.
It’s impossible, it is sad, but there is hope.
And yet, it is clear that this is not a story with an obviously happy ending. As long as there are still hostages in Gaza the country cannot move forward. The mental anguish of that day has left scars that have changed Israeli society forever. It is not an understatement to say that there is an Israel before October 7th and a different Israel after October 7th. People are aware of the way that Israel’s international standing has suffered, but they do not want to sacrifice security to be loved by the countries of the west. Divisions that existed before the attack have been exacerbated and intensified under the stress of this conflict and the questions it has raised. This war has taken an immense toll on the people, on the country, and that is without even considering the toll it has taken on the Palestinians, those in Gaza, those in the West Bank, and those who are citizens of Israel. They have all suffered in the aftermath of Hamas’ attack.
I honestly do not know how to end this sermon, how to conclude these remarks. And so I turn to the words of our tradition. At the end of the Passover Seder we say B’shana haba’ah biYerushalayim – next year in Jerusalem. But in some Haggadot another word is added: B’shana haba’ah biYerushalayim Habnuya – next year in a rebuilt Jerusalem. In the aftermath of this tragedy and the years that have followed, Israel will need to be rebuilt – psychologically, emotionally, spiritually, physically, and ideologically. But if any people can emerge stronger from the fire it is the people of Israel, and we can ensure that we do what we can to support this rebuilding. And so this Rosh Hashanah, I conclude by saying, hoping, and praying B’shana haba’ah biYerushalayim Habnuya – next year in a rebuilt Jerusalem.