וְעַתָּ֣ה מַה־קִּוִּ֣יתִי אֲדֹנָ֑י תּ֝וֹחַלְתִּ֗י לְךָ֣ הִֽיא׃
What, then, can I count on, God?
In You my hope lies (Psalm 39:8).
For the past 500+ days, Shiri Bibas and her boys have been the first image I see behind my eyelids before waking, my first thought in the morning, my first prayer. When Hamas officially announced their deaths last week—along with the death of Oded Lifshitz, a beloved great-grandfather and peace activist—I was overwhelmed with grief, consumed by sorrow (which of course grew when we had to wait an extra day for Shiri’s real body to return home). Our existence feels unbearably fragile when our babies, parents, and grandparents can be torn from our arms. And yet, even in the wake of this unimaginable loss, I am forever changed, especially by Shiri—by her strength, by her love, by her impossible courage. Somehow, even in the face of such horror, the bond between her and her children remains unbroken, a love that transcends even death.
Psalm 39 reminds us that in a world where antisemitism, violence, and hatred seek to break us, hope is not meant only for times of peace—it is the light that carries us through the darkness. When everything feels lost, when cruelty threatens to strip us of our faith in humanity, we turn to this enduring truth: our hope is in something greater than the forces that seek to break us. Shiri’s love for her children, the memory of their lives, and the resilience of our people are all testaments to that hope. And though we mourn, though we weep, we do not surrender to despair. We carry forward, bound by the unshakable belief that even in the deepest night, light will somehow rise again. As we read in the Talmud: “Even if a sharp sword rests upon a person’s neck, they should not despair of mercy” (Berakhot 32b). No matter how dire things are, we carry forward, bound by the unshakable belief that even in the deepest night, light will somehow rise again.
We will never forget Ariel, Kfir, Shiri, Oded, and the others who did not come home to us alive. May their love be an inspiration and may their memories forever be a blessing.
—Cantor Emma Lutz