קדיש ישובי עוטף עזה

הרב גלעד קריב

2023

‏יִתְגַּדַּל זִכְרָם שֶׁל הֲרוּגֵי קִבּוּצֵי עוֹטֵף עַזָּה וְכָל נִרְצְחֵי הַמַּעֲרָכָה הַנּוֹרָאָה בֶּעָרִים, בַּיִּשּׁוּבִים וּבַמּוֹשָׁבִים, וְזִכְרָם שֶׁל נוֹפְלֵי צַהַ"ל, הַמִּשְׁטָרָה וְכוֹחוֹת הַבִּטָּחוֹן.

‏וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ צַו הַחֲבֵרוּת, הָעַרְבוּת הַהֲדָדִית, חַיֵּי הַקְּהִלָּה, אַהֲבַת הָאָרֶץ, וְהַדְּבֵקוּת בְּעֶרְכֵי הַיְּסוֹד שֶׁל הַצִּיּוֹנוּת וּבְעֶרְכֵי הַשִּׁוְיוֹן, הַחֵרוּת וְהַשָּׁלוֹם.

Kaddish for the Residents of the Gaza Envelope

Rav Gilad Kariv, 2023

Yitgadal - May the memory of those killed in the kibbutzim of Azah - and all those murdered in this terrible campaign in the cities, towns and neighborhoods, and the memories of fallen IDF soldiers, the police and security forces - be magnified.

Viyitkadash - And may the realm of friendship, interdependence, communal life, love of the land, and cleaving to the foundational values of zionism and equality, freedom and peace, be hallowed.

It has been 30 days since Simchat Torah. Shloshim.  But the pain, the anger, the constant explanations of how I am feeling, why I am feeling that way, and the weight of it all (not to mention the other tragedies in the world and in Maine) has not abated much.  I continue to mourn for all the lost lives, demand the return of the hostages, and look for a better future that does not repeat the past.

After my workout last night, I went to Market Basket for, what I thought, were only eggs.  As I moved towards the door to enter, it didn’t open.  I felt a little dumb as I stared at the door and tried to figure out if I was in the wrong place.   Behind me, a family was walking in.  One of them said, “sagur?”  (Is it closed?)  The door suddenly opened and I laughed and said, “Lo! Patuach” (No! it’s open!).  For a split second we looked at each other.  “You speak Hebrew,?” he said in Hebrew.  “Yes,” I said and we started talking.  Who would have thought that an Israeli family would meet a local Rabbi at 7:00pm on a Wednesday night in Westbrook, Maine?  I asked them where they lived and, typically Israeli, they answered, “In Israel!” No kidding, I thought. “No! Where in Israel?” And we started talking.  I was not familiar with the place, but I knew the area.  They were aghast that there were any Jews in Maine. They had been visiting before the war and decided to stay until the time they had planned to leave. I wondered where they had been, why they were in Westbrook, and why they hadn’t run into other Jews;  but we were all busy and didn’t have much time to stand around.  We only spoke for a few more minutes, but suddenly the moment felt so important.  As we said goodbye, I looked at them and put my hand on my heart out of love for them.  I didn’t know how to say goodbye to the moment, and I was worried for them, their family and friends. Even though we’d never met, we felt a connection. I had an idea of what they were going through and they met someone who was part of their reality. We all knew that they were going back to a changed home and I felt the anxiety. The woman looked back at me and her tone became more serious. “Thank you so much,” she said tenderly, “I really needed and appreciate this.”  I’ll be honest with you.  As I left to go to the egg aisle, I started crying.  They were tears of anguish, of fear, of exhaustion and of the blessing of meeting these people at this time and in this place; and knowing that we are not alone in this world.

Oseh shalom…