What Kfir and Ariel Represent

For the past year and a half, I have been wondering to myself, what is it about Kfir and Ariel Bibas that triggers such a strong reaction?

Why is it that the entire Jewish nation held out, believing against all odds, that these two tiny children would somehow survive the horrors of their captivity?

Why did the confirmation of their death, their murder, wound us so deeply? Why did it shake us like none of the other thousands who were murdered on October 7^th, and since?

I believe it is because Kfir and Ariel represent so much more than the short lives they lived.

Kfir and Ariel reminded us of the cruelty that we, as a people, have faced. Every time we thought of them, every time we saw their picture, we were reminded of the image of their mother trying so desperately to protect them on October 7^th.

And so, Kfir and Ariel represent the trauma that our people will carry for generations.

Seth Mandel wrote this past week how Kfir and Ariel could have been the wake-up call to the international community that Hamas broke every rule of engagement on October 7^th, how this was never a regular war, this was diabolical hate. How those taken were not, as they so cynically described it, arrested; they were brutally kidnapped and tortured. Kfir and Ariel could have been the rallying call to all those who may have some legitimate criticism against Israel, who could have so easily just said, “Ok, but let those two entirely innocent children go.” And yet, there was silence.

Kfir and Ariel represent the international community’s unconscionable and deafening silence and their abdication of responsibility.

I would suggest it is even more; what they represent is far greater than October 7^th and its aftermath.

Kfir and Ariel, had no personal accomplishments to speak of, they were two little children, and yet, millions of Jews prayed and fought for them, highlighting the Torah’s idea of the intrinsic value of every human being. The radical idea that each individual is cheilek Eloka mima’al, literally, a part of G-d. An idea that we thought our people had successfully taught the world as we saw more and more agencies and NGOs created to care for the rights of every individual. This past year and a half in which Hamas have not only slaughtered our children but used their own children as human shields, has taught us that this idea is far from universal.

Even the terms we used to describe Kfir and Ariel, as pure and innocent, is an outgrowth of the Torah’s perspective on humankind. Whereas other faiths may describe human beings as damned, as broken, as being the products of the Original Sin, Judaism describes people in the terms of purity, tahor, and kadosh.

And it is not only the soul of a human being that is pure. Whereas other faiths denigrate this physical world, Judaism sees sanctity not only in the soul, but even in the body. This is why we are enjoined over and over again, in this week’s Torah portion, to take care not to harm the body nor the objects of every human being. This is why the State of Israel bends over backward to retrieve a lifeless body.

Kfir and Ariel represent the Torah’s perspective on the innate value and purity of every human being, both soul and body, an idea the world so desperately needs to hear.

Let’s take this one step further.

We have in the past discussed the writings of Rav Kalonymus Kalman Shapira. He was a rabbi, who despite having the opportunity to flee from the Nazis, stayed back to be with his followers. He gave weekly sermons in the Warsaw ghetto, transcribed them after Shabbos, hid them, and through the hand of G-d, they were found after the war.

In one of his final entries (Parshas Chukas), in 1943, he wrote about children. He quoted the Zohar that describes children as “kanfa d’schinta, the wings of the Divine Presence.” He suggests that this is why throughout our history, our enemies have always attacked our children first, subconsciously recognizing that this is how they “get at G-d.” From the children thrown into the Nile River to the children captured from Kibbutz Nir Oz, our enemies have attacked not just our children, they have attacked our G-d.

Rav Shapira continues this piece by describing the cries of the children – cries that he and his followers in the Warsaw ghetto were surrounded by daily, the cries for food, the cries for missing parents, the cries for an ounce of compassion.

He explained that when a child calls out for help, it is not only the child calling out for help, it is not only their soul calling out for help, it is G-d, so to speak, calling out for help. It is G-d calling out in anguish.

Who can imagine the cries that Kfir and Ariel let out from the dark tunnels of Gaza? Who can imagine the pain that G-d is expressing into the world?

He then writes in bold letters: If these heart-shattering cries are indeed the cries of our Creator, then “Eich ha’olam omed achar kol kach harbeh tz’akot ka’eilu, how does the world still exist after such cries? B’asarah harugei malchut, in the tragic episode of the ten martyrs that we read about on Yom Kippur, ne’emar she’tza’aku hamalachim, it is said in the Medrash that the angels cried out. Antah bat kol, a voice from heaven replied, im eshma kol acher, if I hear one more cry, ehefoch et ha’olam lamayim, I will revert the world back to its primordial waters!” 

“V’ata, and now,” writes Rav Shapira, “yeladim temimim, malachim tehorim, so many pure precious angelic children, hanehargim v’nishchatim rak bishvil she’heim Yisrael, are killed and slaughtered only because they are Jews, she’heim yoser gedolim min hamalachim, they are greater than angels, mimalim et kol chalal ha’olam tz’akot elu, they fill the world with their screams, v’ein ha’oalm n’hefoch lamayim, how could it be that the world is not returning to its primordial waters?! Rak omed al omdo k’ilu lo naga lo hadavar, as if nothing is happening?!” 

Rav Shapira could not understand, like we cannot understand, how is the world still silent?! 

Not just the soulless members of Hamas, not just the conscious-less leaders who have remained silent, not just the ignorant people of the world who can’t tell right from wrong, but how can G-d be bearing so much pain? 

If the cries of the Bibas children are G-d’s cries, if the cries of each and every pure child who has asked their mother this past week, “Am I next?” are G-d’s cries, then how does He allow the world the world to still stand?!

It’s a question Rav Shapira does not answer.

Kfir and Ariel represent the unanswered question of how G-d allows the pure to suffer. They represent our anguish, our confusion. And they, in some inexplicable way, represent G-d’s pain, G-d’s anguish.

***

It makes no sense that we hoped they were still alive even though we knew they were dead. It makes no sense that the Jewish People still prayed even after seeing the caskets paraded by those barbarians.

But perhaps on some level that decision to not accept Hamas’ narrative was the most meaningful representation of all.

Sivan Rahav Meir writes (Daily Portion) how Hamas has attempted to paint a twisted narrative, one in which these innocent babies were “arrested,” one in which “Israel is Satan,” one in which “they are fighting for freedom.” Hamas has attempted to intimidate us, to cause us to forget what our ideals and values really are, to make us feel hopeless. Hamas has attempted to make us scared for our own children.

Our refusal to accept their narrative of Kfir and Ariel represents our ability to dictate the agenda. Because yes, every time we see the face of any child, we will see Kfir and Ariel. And yes, every time we see a child, we will remember the trauma and the pain and the twisted morality and rampant antisemitism that we are surrounded by. But we cannot stop there. Because if we do, if we allow ourselves to be consumed by anger and by hopelessness and by fear, then Hamas will have won.

Instead, every time we see a child we will remember that they and we are pure. Every time we see a child we will remember that G-d feels our pain, that He is alive within each of us. Every time we see a child we will dedicate ourselves to more Torah learning, to more chesed, to more prayer, and to a deeper connection to our land. Every time we see a child, we will be reminded that evildoers will ultimately suffer and that there is goodness in the world.

T’hei nishmasam tzrura bitzror hachaim, may the souls of Kfir and Ariel be bound up in the Eternal Bond of Life and may their memory truly and always be for a blessing.

Delivered as a sermon at Ner Tamid of Baltimore on February 22, 2025.