Congregation KTI

Shabbat Shalom!

This week, I began discussing with our seventh graders the final monthly theme of our school year, which is shalom, or peace.

Peace is always sorely needed, if highly elusive, and recent weeks (and years, frankly) have only underscored how desirable and how difficult it is to achieve peace. I know they are somehow doing it, but I cannot imagine how anyone in Israel is preparing for Pesach while having their days and nights constantly disrupted by sirens and by running to shelters and protected spaces.

But in truth, the word “shalom” means more than the absence of conflict; it is related to a sense of wholeness and completion, or well-being. Indeed, in both Biblical and modern Hebrew, when we want to know about people’s well-being, we ask: “What is their shalom?” (See, for instance, Genesis 37:14).

Our Torah portion this week, Tzav, uses shalom in this broader sense when referring to the zevach hashlamim, the sacrifice of well-being.

One peculiarity of this sacrifice is that all of the pieces were elevated or waved by the person bringing it; the non-priest bringing this sacrifice would meaningfully participate in the ritual (Leviticus 7:29-30).

Rashi, based on a Talmudic source, explains that this waving of animal parts (like that of the lulav) would move in the four cardinal directions and then up and down, symbolizing God’s sovereignty over everything on earth and beyond.

Perhaps, as Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch noted, including this ritual in the well-being sacrifice suggests that an important aspect of well-being is the acknowledgment of the sovereignty of God.

True well-being comes to us when we understand our proper place within the order of creation. We, as human beings created in the Divine image, but not ourselves God, are both of ultimate significance and of no significance in the grand scheme of things, depending on how you look at it.

Acknowledging God in this way offers us a balanced sense of our own importance and worth. We can sense, as the Hasidic teaching puts it, that for our sake the world was created and also that we are but dust and ashes.

Having that proper sense of the world and our place within it contributes greatly to our inner sense of peace and well-being.

As we anticipate sitting at the seder table, hopefully surrounded by friends and loved ones, let us strive to find some sense of peace this holiday.

Next week, we will acknowledge Tu Bishvat. This date on the Hebrew calendar began as a new year for trees, essentially for tax purposes in ancient times.

Over time, it became an occasion to consider our relationship with nature generally, with the land of Israel specifically, and to use the abundant natural imagery in our tradition as an opportunity for spiritual growth.

In this respect, I’ve been thinking about a phrase that appears in Gvurot, the second section of every Amidah. In it, we acknowledge God’s saving might, in sustaining life, healing the sick, releasing the bound, and in other ways.

At the paragraph’s conclusion, we praise God as מַצְמִיחַ יְשׁוּעָה (matzmiah yeshuah): the one who causes deliverance or redemption to sprout.

The imagery is inspired by the words of the prophet Isaiah: “For as the earth brings forth her growth and a garden makes the seed shoot up, so my Sovereign GOD will make victory and renown shoot up In the presence of all the nations” (61:11).

I’m struck by the implicit comparison between deliverance (which might also be understood as rescue, victory, or redemption) and a plant.

When we plant a seed and cover it with soil, it appears as if nothing is there. But slowly, beyond our notice, something is slowly changing. Then, one day, as if by miracle, the first shoots push through the soil and eventually mature into a beautiful, useful plant.

Perhaps the deliverance we seek in this broken world is just like that plant: something that needs human involvement to set in motion and sustain, but that also grows quietly and miraculously until the time comes for it to reveal itself.

In this way, life is coaxed from the solid, dead-seeming ground, with effort, the right mixture of sun and water, and a prayer.

It doesn’t always work. But when it does, it is miraculous.

We cannot expect deliverance to just magically appear. Rather, we plant the seeds and trust in the One who makes things grow.

We hope this message finds you safe and warm as we recover from yesterday's snowstorm.

Today, we received the bittersweet and long-awaited news that the remains of the final hostage, Ran Gvili, were recovered by the Israeli military and returned to Israel for a proper burial.

With this week's news, this terrible chapter of the October 7 hostage crisis has concluded after 843 days, as everyone who was taken hostage has now been accounted for.

Ran Gvili, 24 at the time of his death, was an Israeli police officer who bravely gave his life defending Kibbutz Alumim and rescuing Nova attendees on October 7. Despite recovering from a broken shoulder, Ran rushed to defend the Gaza envelope communities.

We pray that this development brings some sense of comfort and closure to the Gvili family, to Israeli society, and to the Jewish people worldwide.

At KTI, we have prayed for the return of the hostages at every Shabbat service since October 7. Our prayer has evolved with the situation, and in recent weeks we have been specifically praying for Ran's return.

While we no longer need to pray for the return of hostages, Israel remains in our hearts and our prayers. So much needs to be rebuilt and healed in the coming years: the physical and mental health of the returned hostages and their families; the damaged and evacuated communities in Israel's north and south; the strain that this war has taken on much of Israeli society.

Meanwhile, even as much has been accomplished as a result of the war, Israel continues to face significant threats from its neighbors both near and far.

We continue to pray as a community for safety, healing, and peace for Israel. As we read in Psalms: "May strength be granted to GOD’s people; may GOD bless this people with peace."

With prayers for better days ahead,

Rabbi Ben Goldberg

Cantor Alexis K. Sklar

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Ran Gvili, the last hostage, is brought home after 843 days 💔

Ran Gvili, the last hostage in Gaza, has been brought home.

First to enter. Last to return.

Staff Sergeant Ran (Rani) Gvili from Meitar was a YASSAM Negev fighter in the Southern District of the Israel Police. Ran took great pride in being a police officer and wearing the blue uniform.

On the morning of the Black Saturday, Ran was at home recovering from a motorcycle accident and suffering from a fractured shoulder. Upon learning of the terrorist infiltration, he immediately put on his uniform and went out to assist his fellow unit members in the fighting. On his way, he encountered terrorists and fought with courage and determination on the front line at the entrance to Kibbutz Alumim. Members of the kibbutz community later gave him the name “Ran, the Defender of Alumim.”

After several months, assessments concluded that following a fierce battle, and only after his ammunition had run out, Ran fell in combat and was abducted to Gaza.

Ran, with his broad shoulders and radiant smile, was all heart. A true friend, loved by everyone. He loved life, was a young man of deep values, always spoke at eye level, and carried a powerful yet calm presence. At 24 years old at the time of his death, Ran is survived by his parents, Talik and Itzik, his brother Omri, his sister Shira, and an extended family.

Ran Gvili was the last hostage.

The Hostages and Missing Families Forum bows its head in sorrow and shares in the profound grief of the Gvili family.

There are no words to express the depth of this pain.