Joy and Pain in a Yellow Ribbon and Broken Glass
Today, my heart holds a delicate balance of joy and sorrow – layered, profound, and deeply personal. My thoughts turn constantly to many families in Israel including our dear friends and neighbors, the family of Daniel Perez Z”tl, who still await the return of his body from Gaza.
Two years ago, they faced an unimaginable moment: celebrating their other son’s wedding – himself wounded in Gaza – just days after October 7th. That day, one son stood under the chuppah, now blessed with a child; the other, possibly alive then as a hostage, was heartbreakingly absent.
This morning, as I thought about this complex web of feelings and whilst planning a wedding for my daughter, I found new meaning and inspiration in a tradition I’ve always known but never truly understood – the breaking of the glass at a Jewish wedding, accompanied by the haunting melody of “Im Eshkachech Yerushalayim” (“If I forget thee, O Jerusalem”). Looking at the full Psalm from which the text comes, the shattered glass speaks to me now as a very profound symbol of joy and pain held together.
The Joy – We all truly await the hostages’ return with true joy. For two years, we’ve prayed for this moment. Each small victory has been bittersweet, our hearts catching on the names still unspoken.
The Pain – Yet this joy carries deep pain – for the losses of October 7th, for soldiers fallen in Gaza and Lebanon, for the wounded, for the traumatized, and especially for families like Daniel’s, still waiting to see if they’re children and loved ones will return from Gaza or be lost there.
Israel’s longest war has brought immense suffering, including the tragic loss of innocent lives in Gaza and beyond – suffering caused by the actions of Hamas. How do we rejoice amidst such grief? The words of Psalm 137, from which “Im Eshkachech” is drawn, offer insight:
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept as we remembered Zion.
There on the poplars we hung up our lyres,
For our captors asked us for songs, our tormentors for amusement: “Sing us one of the songs of Zion.”
How can we sing the Lord’s song on alien soil?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither;
Let my tongue stick to my palate if I cease to think of you, if I do not keep Jerusalem in memory even at my happiest hour.
These verses capture our struggle: how to sing, how to celebrate, while our loved ones suffer. We do so by remembering – by carrying their pain even in joy. The broken glass embodies this truth. Neither joy nor sorrow cancels the other; they coexist.
Daniel’s family shows us this resilience and the enormous challenge – embracing joy under impossible circumstances. Their strength and their tremendous pain inspires me to hold Daniel’s memory close while welcoming hope. The broken glass is a poignant metaphor for this moment – shattered, yet beautiful.
This is dedicated to the memory of Daniel Perez Z”tl, to his family under God’s protection, and to all hostages in Gaza – living and deceased. May they all be returned, and may their families find solace.
