Our Sacred Responsibility: Grappling with an Impossible Choice
In another time, discussions over what is right and wrong, moral and compassionate, might unfold in college classrooms or on debate stages. But when these philosophical questions collide with the lives of real people facing the unimaginable horror of evil in real time, they take on an entirely different weight. Such is the reality in which Israel finds herself, as the incredulous hostage deal is implemented.
Conversations with colleagues, family, and yes, even strangers on social media, often feel like modern-day Talmudic debates. We may cite the sacred texts that help us navigate tough situations, but the raw, immediate agony of the heart runs deeper than any words can express.
To hear the primal screams of a mother, torn between hope and despair, waiting to learn the fate of her child—unsure if they are alive or dead—there are no words for such pain. We watch as mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters cling to the fragile promise of their loved one’s return; families shattered by unspeakable brutality, the magnitude of their suffering, unfathomable.
So, when I received a text from my son asking, “What do you and Abba think about the hostage deal?” I had to pause before I could even begin to formulate an answer.
Explaining the complexity of such a question to my young adult son, grappling with his own identity in a world turned upside down, is no easy task. He has witnessed his generation bear the brunt of antisemitism here in the States. He has seen friends buy into anti-Jewish and anti-Israeli propaganda and abandon our Zionist ideals. He has seen those in Israel killed, taken hostage, and courageously serve in the IDF to protect the one Jewish country we have. And he has seen the worst of humanity cheer in the streets for the massacre of our people simply because we are Jews.
To be Jewish today is to navigate the constant tension between justice, mercy, and survival—a balancing act between seemingly impossible choices. These struggles are not new; they’ve always been part of our journey, and for now, they remain as complex and defining as ever.
Our soldiers, our children, bear the weight of decisions made by our leaders. They know they may be called to fight again, and as they watch those who butchered their friends and families being set free, they are left wondering if their service and sacrifice will have been in vain. After all, they understand very well that the devastation of October 7th was made possible by the Shalit deal of 2011.
Will history repeat itself?
It is a valid question as the terrorists responsible for atrocities such as brutal rapes, murders and mutilation – not necessarily from October 7th – are now being freed in exchange for hostages. Known terrorists – by the thousands – released back to the very streets where they committed their despicable crimes, in exchange for less than a hundred hostages – a third of whom are believed to be dead – makes no sense. Who would abide by such a deal? It is horrific – the twisted morality we’re confronted with leaves us with an impossible decision of which I’m grateful not to bear the responsibility. Because there are no good answers.
Despite all the pain, the heartache, and the debates, when Israel’s daughters, Romi, Emily, and Doron, returned home after 471 days of inconceivable suffering, the surreal joy we felt emanating from our screens was palpable. As we have experienced the endless ache for strangers who feel like family, our fractured collective heart is filled with an overwhelming sense of love and relief, filling us with eternal hope.
And so, I say to my son, our love is greater than their hate. And as a nation, the price to bring the hostages home has been, and will continue to be, extraordinary. I don’t have the answers, but I know in the end, we are one family. And family will do anything to bring its loved ones home. As Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks so profoundly said,
“This sense of kinship, fraternity, and the family bond is at the heart of the idea of Kol Yisrael arevin zeh bazeh—All Jews are responsible for one another. Or as Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai put it, “When one Jew is injured, all Jews feel the pain.”
The Jewish people remain a family—often divided, always argumentative, but bound by a common fate nonetheless…the one who has fallen is our brother or sister, and it is our hand that must help them rise again.”
May all the hostages return home safely to their families, our soldiers forever be protected by the Hand of G-d, and may we all remember that we are bound by the responsibility for one another, united in our sacred duty to defend and cherish each other, always.