Rabbi’s Sermon 18th January 2025/18th Tevet 5785

WAITING
Tsachi Yakhar
We think of you; we have been thinking of you since that horrible October 7, when the terrorists of Hamas shot your daughter Ma'ayan dead in front of your eyes. They said they wouldn't shoot, but they did.
And then they took you in Gaza as a hostage because this is how Jews must be treated -as cattle- according to their perverse interpretation of Islam.
Perverse, yes. But popular, as we have seen in the following months and as we are too afraid to say it openly.
And they took pleasure in streaming on Facebook their cruelty so that everybody could see how the much fabled "return of the Palestinian refugees" would look like.
What a joke.
There are horrible people - in this city, too, in this community- who say, believe and preach that we can achieve peace by granting a "right of return" to those monsters, giving them license to perpetrate other cruelties on unharmed Jews.
We have been thinking of you, Tsachi.
We have prayed for your liberation in this synagogue.
We wear yellow ribbons.
We have said prayers every Friday morning at BNJC. We meet and pray every evening in Palmeira Square.
We will do so this evening, too, I hope that many of those in this room will join.
It could be raining, snowing, or terribly cold; no matter what, there is always someone to pray for you, Tsachi, to pray publicly, as we Jews do very rarely.
We hope the city gets the message that we want your liberation, the liberation of all the hostages, and peace.
We have encountered solidarity and support.
People of all faiths—Jews, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, and even pagans—have prayed with us, and people of no faith have stood in silence to offer solidarity and support.
We have found flowers, poems, toys, and lovely letters and cards at the Memorial in Palmeira Square.
You see, Tsachi, you are not alone.
We have never stopped praying for your liberation, hoping you can return to your family and your community one day.
Sadly, we have also encountered hate and hostility.
The Memorial has been vandalised many times (always by the same people), and attempts have been made to remove it.
Someone blatantly lied, maintaining that it has become a no-go area for support of the Palestinians or even for Muslims.
They were trying to divert attention from the well-known fact that there are no-go zones for Jews in London, especially on Shabbat. Thankfully, the police seem to be tackling the problem now.
For the crime of praying for your liberation and for wishing your return, we have been called names such as "genocide supporters", "anti-Palestinian racists", "Islamophobic", and "Far Right". Which hurts.
The Far Right are people who hate everything they do not understand, so they hate a lot of people, especially the Jews.
Indeed, in the 60s, the Far Right introduced the Palestinian cause to the attention of public opinion.
But things have changed, and today, the Far Right are not the skinheads and other militants with their macabre uniforms.
No, today, the Far Right are those like us who pray for the liberation of captives like you, Tsachi.
It is offensive and painful to be called a racist or a genocide supporter when the only aspiration you have is for Israelis and Palestinians to get along and for all the people and religions in the Middle East to live and thrive next to each other in peace and harmony.
For doing what Jews have done since the beginning of the Diaspora, showing solidarity with another Jewish community, we are defamed, we lose friends, we are mobbed at work, and our children are bullied at school.
We are actively forbidden to walk in a certain part of this city at a certain time because the sight of some Jewish symbol -be it a kippah or a badge with an Israeli flag- may trigger hostility.
And now, 470 days after that terrible October 7, we have seen your name on the list, Tsachi.
The list of the hostages that Hamas wants to exchange with Palestinian terrorist prisoners. The list of those who (God willing, beezrat Hashem) will return to their families and to their community.
Your name is there.
This gives us enormous hope.
We may see you coming back free to your family and your community. It is not anymore, a prayer; it is a possibility. We have reasons to hope.
Perhaps in a few days, we will be blessed by the sight of you free, back to the care and love of your wife and the family, back in the kibbutz, slowly returning to life.
And so, we wonder, Tsachi, how you will adjust yourself to this new reality, the reality we live in after October 7.
Antisemitism that has now raised its ugly head all over the world. Although Hamas' military capacity has been reduced, they still pose a threat to the people who live in Israel's Southern region. Public opinion simply refuses to see the root cause of the war against Israel, the centuries-old antisemitism in Arab lands.
This is the after-October 7 reality we live in.
How will you be and feel, and which thoughts will cross your mind?
You see, Tsachi, we in the Diaspora believe that "antisemitism is a threat, but not yet".
We continue to live there, in the Diaspora, because, to a certain extent, we think that we can manage the danger, that it does not directly affect us, and that we are intelligent and can take it.
The Jews who, three or four generations ago, packed their bags, moved to the land of Israel, and founded kibbutzim like the one you live in; those first Zionists did not have time to entertain those Diaspora fantasies.
They took for granted that antisemitism could never be defeated. So, they moved to Israel, settled there, and founded cities and kibbutzim.
They created a State where Jews could be regular citizens, everyday people, instead of being forced to be exceptional (exceptionally good, exceptionally useful) to survive.
Historically speaking, this is Zionism. Realising that antisemitism will never disappear, the only way to survive as a people is to have our own State to protect us from the threat.
Stop pleasing the world; think about protecting yourself.
This is Zionism in a nutshell.
We who live in the Diaspora sometimes deny such a danger until the very moment it blows in our face, and sometimes it is too late.
If nothing else, all this ordeal has brought us in the Diaspora closer to Israel, closer to your community, and has wakened up many Diaspora Jews who were complacent or just feeling too comfortable in their bubble.
We know, Tsachi, that after the celebration, then there will be sadness and the realisation of the need (as per the words of Jabotinsky) for an iron wall to make Israel more secure, to prevent other October 7, other tragedies, other massacres that our enemies are willing to infer on us (with international support): indeed they are getting ready already.
We know it all, but that is for tomorrow—or the day after.
Today, January 18, 2025, 18 Tevet 5785, we continue to pray for you. We hope to see you free, and we wait for the news.
Stay strong, Tsachi. We look forward to meeting you.
Now it can be the time.
Rabbi Dr. Andrea Zanardo, PhD
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