Of course, this is only the beginning. Some of the released hostages have written entire books or articles. Others have been interviewed. Some can barely speak, let alone offer life lessons. We know that there is more to come, but for now, I feel that I have new rabbeim.
Rav Chaim Shmulevitz famously teaches that when Rav Eliezer was mortally ill, his talmidim came to praise him. However, Rabi Akiva sought to learn from him one last time, as he was suffering. He had learned everything from his rebbi, but now he would absorb a new shiur, a death-bed chaburah in how to accept yissurim.
I must confess that I had heard that during their horrific incarceration, some of the hostages discovered Hashem. Others made kabbalos — promises about what they would change if they were ever released. But I had no idea of the spiritual madreigos — the literal elevations — many of them had achieved. This inspired me to declare, with Rabi Akiva, following Rav Chaim, that Klal Yisroel has not only been restored a gift from Hashem, but we have been given new rabbeim. Let us not ignore, but let us explore this new, if unwanted, treasure trove of mussar, ruchniyus, mesirus nefesh and strength of spirit even as their bodies were failing and being methodically destroyed.
Eli Sharabi, who survived 491 days in Hamas captivity, did write a book. But more important than any pages or publications is who he is today. In addition to his own incredible pain, his wife, two daughters and brother were murdered by the savages who perpetrated this crime against humanity, whose victims were almost all innocent Jewish souls.
Eli has spoken eloquently at the United Nations, met with President Trump and spoken to many reporters and media. However, my Birchos Hashachar were changed forever when I read that Eli recited these brachos praising Hashem for His various daily gifts every day of his captivity. This despite being forced to sleep on a floor where worms constantly crawled on their bodies. Eli’s ribs were broken, he was constantly being urged to convert to Islam, and he endured psychological torture, as well as physical. Yet, every morning, he would praise Hashem for being able to stand, see, etc. My rebbi taught me not to just say the words, but to visualize how wonderful it actually is to be able to enjoy these gifts.
Matan Angrest spent five months completely alone, worse than solitary confinement, because he never knew when he would be tortured or even murdered suddenly. He managed to not only daven three times a day, but somehow procured a siddur from his captors. When he was finally placed with other hostages, he was overjoyed to discover that one of them, Gali Berman, had a Chumash. They learned through the pesukim so many times that by the time of his release, he literally knew the entire Chumash by heart. When I heard this, I made myself some bli neder kabbalos, which included knowing more Torah Shebaal Peh. We don’t have to be limited to a shared Chumash under the vengeful eye of our enemy, and we can do it right by memorizing Torah Shebaal Peh the way that it was meant to be taught.
Matan Tsengauker found a Sefer Tehillim that had apparently belonged to an IDF soldier. He guarded it literally with his life and recited Tehillim each and every day of his captivity. I made a mental note to increase my Tehillim saying and to appreciate having so many editions, peirushim and sizes in my possession. But even more importantly, I thought of the expression in Chazal, “matiach devorim klapei maalah,” literally meaning “throwing [critical words] toward heaven” (Brachos 31b). This expression is generally applied to giants such as Eliyahu Hanovi, who righteously allowed themselves to criticize (so to speak) the Al-mighty for causing someone to sin. In the case of Eliyahu, Hashem, in fact, accepted the plea and forgave the sinners.
We, being frail human beings, are sometimes prone to blame Hashem for our own foibles or, at least, to be lax in accepting responsibility for our actions. We are always taught that we are not on the level of those who allowed themselves the luxury of blaming Hashem for whatever has befallen us. It seems that if there were ever people —besides the obvious Holocaust survivors, etc. — who would be forgiven for complaining, at least to the Al-mighty Himself, for horrific events, it would be these prisoners of Hamas for two years of torture. Yet, the exact opposite has happened. They taught us that the worse things got, the more they believed in Hashem. None of them emerged as heretics, but many of them did ask, sometimes for the first time in their lives, for religious articles such as tefillin, mezuzos, tzitzis, and, on the fateful Hoshanah Rabbah of their release, their one opportunity this year to shake the arba minim. Are they not rabbeim in emunah, bitachon and appreciation for each and every cheftza d’kedusha in our possession?
Rom Brasklavsky was also put through the psychological torture of being told that his family no longer cared about him and that Iran had successfully bombed Israel. Rom wouldn’t believe it, and in a moment when a Gazan mob was about to break into the cell where he was handcuffed and he could have died a horrible death, he recited Shema Yisroel and was immediately saved. When I read this, my Krias Shema became much deeper and more full of kavanah than ever before. Thank you, rebbi.
Avi Ohanah, father of released hostage Yosef Chaim, who had gone to many gedolim for brachos, attributed the miracle to these tefillos. He echoed the sentiments of his son that no one should forget the ongoing suffering of those whose children did not return alive and those who have still not come to kevuras Yisroel. This is the ultimate test and teaching of nosei b’ol im chaveiro.
Rav Shlomo Wolbe (Alei Shur, volume 2) asks why Moshe Rabbeinu bothered to actually carry the burden of some Yidden in Mitzrayim. Surely he couldn’t carry them all. He explains that being nosei b’ol means that it is not sufficient to imagine someone else’s pain. One must actually experience it. These released hostages each spoke about those who didn’t make it, whose mesiras nefesh ended with the ultimate sacrifice of their lives. I believe that the least we can do is to try to imagine this pain, even if it cannot be as real as Moshe Rabbeinu made it.
The Alter of Kelm (quoted by Rav Yeruchom Levovitz in Daas Chochmah Umussar 3, maamar 257) teaches that one of the mitzvos of being menachem avel is to imagine the pain of the niftar who is being judged at that time. Rav Wolbe was once visibly in a state of sadness on Shabbos, completely unusual for him. When asked about it, he responded that just before Shabbos, a certain well-known Maskil and opponent of Torah Yiddishkeit had passed away. “I am imagining him standing before the heavenly tribunal and I am saddened at his fate.” Although I probably have no right to say this, my heart tells me that this will be no problem for those who were brutally murdered by Hamas. However, I also feel that the released hostages themselves may have suffered enough to be mechaper for whatever they may have done, especially since many of them did not have a chance to learn before.
These heroes, our new rabbeim, also have the zechus of having inspired many of us to become better, higher, and deeper, and strengthen our emunah and bitachon no matter what happens in our lives. When I finished writing this tribute, I stood up. Not because I was finished, but out of respect for my newfound rabbeim. May Hashem send them — and us — the strength to continue to grow in our middos and the depth of our emunah in Hashem at all times.
