Rabbinic Reflection: Rabbi Taylor Baruchel

What does it mean to love someone you have never met? 

As Jews, we are taught that we are part of something greater than ourselves—Am Yisrael, the Jewish People. We are meant to be connected to one another, bound by a shared past and a collective destiny. Our traditions, values, and stories link us across generations and geography, reminding us that we are never truly alone. 

 However, it’s not always easy to feel a deep and personal connection with a population as diverse and varied as the Jewish people. With different backgrounds, traditions, and levels of observance, it is easy to feel a disconnect from the broader community.  

And yet—as I watched footage of Emily Damari, Doron Steinbrecher, and Romi Gonen come home after 471 days in captivity, I wept tears of joy and relief. Though I do not know them, and they will likely never know me, I love them. I do not care how they voted in the last election, what they think about women in the rabbinate, or what toppings they prefer on their pizza. They are of my People; they are mine. In their safe return, in each embrace of a daughter reunited with her mother, I feel sparks of the redemption of our People. I feel like I am a part of their—and our—story. 

Throughout the Exodus narrative, we see that the women of Israel have remarkably resilient and fiery spirits. It is their strength, their courage, and their unwavering belief in a future beyond suffering that help bring about redemption. This spirit echoed so strongly for me when I saw Emily Damari—after nearly 500 days in captivity—muster the strength and defiance to shove her Hamas guard out of the way as she approached the awaiting Red Cross worker. After all that time, her spirit was not broken, and her courage was on full display, this proud daughter of Israel. I do not know her, but I love her, and I am so incredibly proud of her. 

Baruch Atah Adonai, Matir Assurim—Blessed are You, God, who frees the captive. 

In this week’s Torah portion, Va’eira, God reassures Moses and the Israelites with the words, “I will free you from the burdens of Egypt and deliver you from bondage” (Exodus 6:6). The redemption of our people is not just a singular event, but an ongoing story—one that we are still living. The Israelites were not a uniform group; they were a mixed multitude, with different levels of faith and commitment, yet they were redeemed together. Their freedom was collective, just as their suffering had been shared. 

As we look ahead, we know that the coming weeks will be fraught with both hope and heartbreak. Please God, more hostages will come home, and with their return, we will also face the painful reality of those who return to be buried rather than embraced. The weight of this moment is heavy, and yet, in the face of uncertainty, we find strength in each other. The enduring and shared spirit of our People—the same spirit that carried our ancestors out of Egypt and through generations of exile and return—reminds us that even in our darkest moments, hope endures. 

We stand together, bound by a love that transcends distance and difference, a love that affirms that none of us is truly alone. We cry together, we rejoice together, and we pray together—for healing, for wholeness, and for peace.  

May the strength of our people and the promise of redemption continue to sustain us.  

Am Yisrael Chai.