Rabbi's Address Israel Vigil 16th March 2025
- Erez Peer
- Apr 6
- 4 min read
In Mishlei, the Book of Proverbs, we find a line that is often quoted: Tzedakah tatzil mimavet, which means "Charity saves from death."
At first reading, it seems straightforward.
If someone is in danger of death, a great act of tzedakah, of charity, is to rescue that person by providing food and medication and—as we have learnt over the last months—doing whatever possible to save their life. So, receiving tzedakah saves you from death.
It is also true that giving tzedakah, doing charity, for example, in memory of our beloved, is a way to save from death. We honour the memory of our beloved when they are no longer with us by giving tzedakah and charity in their name so that their name won't be forgotten.
Their memory will live through the acts of kindness done in their name. For this reason, Tzedakah tatzil mimavet is a line we hear several times during events related to fundraising.
But it is worth thinking carefully about the words and their meaning; considering the word tzedakah, you realise that "charity" is an improper translation.
When we Jews do Tzedakah, we do not do charity, as in giving generously out of the kindness of our hearts. No. Tzedakah is a word related to tzad, side.
Doing tzedakah means being on the right side. Doing tzedakah means doing something because it is just right.
Let me be a bit pedantic, after all, as I am a Rabbi, and this is my job. The proper translation of tzedakah is not: "charity" but: Justice.
A proper translation of that line from the book of Proverbs, Tzedakah tatzil mimavet, is, therefore, Justice saves from death.
We have been doing tzedakah all these months, trying to save Tsachi (and we failed, and there is a deep sadness in this).
We have been trying to do Justice, and we will continue to do Justice until all the other hostages are free. This is not a task for a few, but a collective responsibility of our entire community.
We all have a role to play in this pursuit of justice.
We do so, by reminding the city, publicly, from the Memorial in Palmeira Square that the monsters of Hamas are keeping hostages, in chains, children, women, elderly people, fathers and sons, for no other reason than because they are Jewish (or suspected to be allied of the Jews).
We have been remembering this truth to the citizens of Brighton and Hove and to the passers-by every day, publicly, something that Jews are not used to in this Country.
We have been persistent because—this must be said—not all the citizens and not all the authorities have been willing to listen. More than once, our Memorial has been devastated and vandalised.
More than once, that place requires physical protection.
Some people in this city do not want us to even cry. They do not want us to talk about our pain. Those British citizens seem not to have learned the Shakespeare line, "If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you poison us, do we not die?"
We have been remembering Tsachi and trying to comfort Adam and his wonderful family here once a week, beinenu, among us.
It was, and is, so important to remind ourselves of the reality that in that bloody war, there is an aggressor (Hamas) who is driven by antisemitism and racism.
And there is a State, Israel, that does what it can to save lives and rescue lives, and sometimes they manage to do it; sometimes, as we know, they fail.
It was, and it is, essential to remind us how things are. Because too many times, the public opinion is misled, sometimes with the willing cooperation of some Jews.
And so, they circulate a twisted version of the reality, according to which Israel is perpetrating genocide, and the Palestinians are "resisting."
As if murdering a daughter in front of his father was an act of resistance, (well, someone has really said it was...)
That was tzedakah, doing Justice and telling the truth.
Saying things as they are and trying to overcome the well-funded propaganda, that poisonous mixture of Islamic and Stalinist antisemitism that is all around us and drives us all mad on social media and elsewhere.
We have been demanding Justice. Justice for Tsachi. Justice for Ma'ayan. Justice for all the victims of Palestinian terrorists, be they Hamas or any other variety.
In conclusion, I want to say something I have never said in all these months. Thank you, Heidi.
You have been, and you really are, a true rock. You are an inspiration. We see daily how intensely and strongly you support Adam in this dark time.
When I think of your energy and dedication to Tsachi, to the hostages and to Justice, I am simply without words (which is strange because words are the tool of my job).
Together with his fabulous wife, I want to thank Adam. As a couple, you have united this community, often fractious and divided for many stupid little things.
We are notoriously a quarrelsome lot. They say, "Two Jews, three opinions". It is funny, but each of us here knows how exhausting Jewish communal life can be.
Heidi, Adam, you have made a miracle. You have motivated the most complacent among us to go public, to go (literally) on the streets and to campaign for the hostages and, by doing so, to be actively proudly uncompromisingly Jewish and Zionist.
You have been focusing on points on what unites their community rather than on what divides us.
You motivated us to do mitzvahs together, the holy mitzvah of mattir asurim, freeing the prisoners.
We are sad because we failed with Tsachi, and this sadness will never go away. It is an empty spot that will remain in our hearts forever. But the unity you have motivated that also won't go away.
We will continue to campaign with you to change the narrative, tell the truth, and pray together until the last hostages come home.
We owe this to the memory of Tsachi, and we will do it together because that is justice. This is Tzedakah and Tzedakah saves from death.
Bring them Home.
Rabbi Dr. Andrea Zanardo, PhD
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