No One Is Left Behind
This week, Ran Gvili was finally brought home to Israel, a moment that coincides with the reading of Parashat Beshalach and carries a significance that is important and impossible to ignore, not only because of how his life ended, but because of what his return reveals about who he was.
It took a very long time to find him. Ran was identified only after forensic teams examined approximately 250 sets of remains, cross-referencing DNA and dental records until his identity was finally confirmed.
He was among the first to go out and fight on October 7, and he was the last to return. He was finally brought home for a dignified burial and given the respect he deserved.
Because while Ran was killed in action, his story does not end there, nor does the meaning of his life dissolve into tragedy. What emerges instead is something deeply inspirational: the refusal to leave anyone behind, the brotherly love that binds people who may never have met, and the self-sacrifice that continues even after death through the devotion of others but one that started with Ran ‘s selfless sacrifice and love for his people and his country.
There is something profoundly moving in the way Ran was brought home, in the way soldiers who did not know him personally treated him with tenderness and respect, standing with him as if he were their own brother, accompanying him with a sense of responsibility that went far beyond duty. This is love expressed through action, care, and presence.
Parashat Beshalach resonates strongly here. As the Israelites leave Egypt, Moses takes with him the bones of Joseph, fulfilling a promise made generations earlier, reminding us that redemption is incomplete if it leaves someone behind. Joseph’s bones are carried through because dignity does not expire with death and obligation does not fade with time.
Ran was carried home in that same spirit, and it is this act that carries a significance far beyond the moment itself.
Beshalach also tells of the sea that did not split until Nachshon ben Aminadav stepped forward and entered the water, without guarantees or certainty, moved by faith and resolve rather than assurance of survival. Ran embodied that courage in our time. He chose responsibility over self-preservation, even while injured.
Later in the parashah, Amalek appears, remembered not for strength but for cruelty, for attacking the weak and the vulnerable. The Torah commands us never to forget this, because such behavior represents a collapse of humanity itself. And yet Beshalach does not allow cruelty to have the final word. It insists that even in a world where violence exists, love and responsibility remain choices.Yet we have the obligation to remember what Amalek did perhaps as a way to learn a lesson for the future.The ways of the cruel have no room in our world. They are not just another enemy. Rather one that needs to be destroyed.
The same is true for modern day Amalekites. Not only those who afflict the Jewish people but many others like those who afflict the brave people of Iran. This is a fight that is worth fighting, one that can not be ignored.
The return of Ran Gvili allows something essential to begin. Not closure, but through mourning, love and dignity the slow work of healing.
Since October 7, grief has been heavy on our chests, both for the grieving families and the Jewish community, there was also a tremendous amount of uncertainty. Ran’s return does not erase the trauma, but it does restore something deeply human: the ability to say goodbye with honor.
Jewish trauma radiates outward in widening circles, but so does love, responsibility, and the refusal to abandon one another.
They were not just the soldiers who returned Ran’s body, the ones who accompanied him and his family but in a way, each and everyone of us has been walking with them all along.
We cry and we hug them, we are all relieved we were able to give our hero the dignified burial he deserved. It was the least we could do.
I want to end with words from Martín Fierro by José Hernández:
“Los hermanos sean unidos, esa es la ley primera,
porque si entre ellos se pelean, los devoran los de afuera.”
Brothers must stand united; that is the first law. Because if they fight among themselves, those from the outside will devour them.
This is not sentimentality. This is a powerful message of unity for.our people.
Send by so many of our heroes amongst them our dear Ran Gvili.
Ran Gvili’s return reminds us that brotherhood is not declared; it is practiced — in sacrifice, in devotion, and in the unwavering fact that no one can be ever left behind.
