Yom Kippur: A Post October 7th Yizkor

Today we are united with Jews around the world, who, like us, are sitting in synagogue on Yom Kippur, united in prayer, penitence, and asking God for atonement. We sit here united with Jews around the world, who will be saying the Yizkor prayer, remembering loved ones, committing to do good deeds, giving Tzedaka, and improving who we are for the sake of our loved ones. We welcome every person, no matter who they are or where they come from. This is why we say on Kol Nidre Night, “Anu matirim Lehitpalel im Ha’avaryanim, we permit praying with the transgressors”. Yom Kippur is a day of standing together. 

Yet unlike past years, this year we are joined by more than 2000 families who should not have been saying Yizkor. This year, for the first time, 2000 Jewish families will be saying Yizkor for loved ones who should have been alive. They are parents of little children–even babies–they are siblings, they are children and grandparents. They are parents who lost their young children at the Nova music festival, people whose siblings, nieces, and nephews were burned alive in the merciless pogroms of Kibbutz Be’eri, families whose sons and daughters are among the hundreds of brave soldiers who have fallen in a war Israel has not chosen, parents whose daughters were serving in the Nachal Oz army base, or the parents of the many terrorist attacks that hardly make headlines because of the vast amount of events that keep happening, with no time to stop and mourn. 

I think of the family of Amit Mann in synagogue today to say Yizkor. Amit was the youngest of 5 sisters in the city of Netivot, whose father became sick with cancer when she was just 11 years old. She took care of him for three years and decided she wanted to dedicate herself to helping others. At the age of 15, she began volunteering at Magen David Adom and took out medical books from her local library. Amit became a paramedic as soon as she could. On the morning of October 7th, despite the fact that the paths of the Kibbutz were riddled with Hamas terrorists, Amit made her way to the Kibbutz’s infirmary, dragging from the ground people who had been injured and fighting for their lives. From 8:00 to 2:15, Amit and another nurse who was on the Kibbutz tended to the wounds of injured Kibbutz members, tied tourniquets, and desperately made calls for help–even as two kibbutz members with weapons barricaded the infirmary and held the terrorists out. 

Once they were out of medical supplies, Amit held dying and injured people in her hands, comforted them, calmed them, and told them things would be okay. At 2:13 PM, terrorists broke into the infirmary and fired all over. Amit got gunshots to her legs and survived. She made herself a tourniquet and did her best to live. 

The bloodthirsty terrorists then returned and shot everyone in the head, including Dr. Daniel Levy, who joined them, and others who were there. Two days later, Amit was buried beside her beloved father in the city of Netivot. Today, her mother, Rachel, and her four sisters will be saying Yizkor for the first time for Amit, the selfless hero who was murdered in such cruelty. 

One of the earliest rabbinic sources on the custom of saying Yizkor, Rabbi Eliezer of Worms, known for his book The Roke’ach (section 217) writes asks what good it does do for people to give charity on behalf of someone who is no longer alive. The Roke’ach writes that Hashem examines the hearts of the living and the hearts of the dead. If the person on behalf of whom we are given Tzedaka, he says, would have also helped the poor, then doing that act of kindness on their behalf is something Hashem gives them credit for. 

As we stand in Yizkor, we each remember our loved ones and the kindness they have done for us, and others. We remember the standards they set, the goodness they have done, the kindness they have imparted, and the meaning they have given us. Today, on the day of atonement, more than any other day, we recommit to everything they have imparted to us. It is upon us on this day to remember what they have done and tell God we will continue that and do the same. 

Yet in addition to committing ourselves to our own families, our own inspirational figures, and those who have made us into who we are, this year, we must also commit ourselves to make sure thousands of families who have joined the circles of saying Yizkor are not alone. It is for us to see those precious lives and legacies we have lost this year and make sure we continue them. Be it with the dedication of Amit Man to saving the lives of others, the heroism of Aner Shipra, the joy of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, the vision and courage of Roni Eshel, a 19-year-old woman who saw the terrorists coming in through the fence and used her last moments to raise all the alarms she could, rabbi Binya. Like Ariel Zohar from Nachal Oz, whose father, mother, and sisters were killed on the morning of October 7th, and two months later put on his father’s Teffilin, partnering with God in both remembrance and taking action to continue their legacy is our sacred duty post-October 7th.