Until this week, Omer Neutra’s parents believed he was being held in Gaza, a hostage but still alive. On Monday, as we now know, their hope was tragically extinguished upon learning that Omer had, in fact, been murdered by Hamas terrorists on October 7. Omer's remains are still being held in Gaza.

We all know young people like Omer. Just 21, he was an American who deferred enrollment at Binghamton University to serve in the Israel Defense Forces. Omer attended the Schechter School of Long Island and Young Judaea’s Sprout Lake Camp (both UJA beneficiaries). He worked as a counselor at Ramah Nyack and served as president of the New York chapter of United Synagogue Youth.

In other words, he was of our community. As familiar to us as our own children or grandchildren and their friends.

At Tuesday’s memorial service for Omer, held on Long Island, his parents, Orna and Ronen, sat beside Rachel and Jon Goldberg-Polin, whose son, Hersh, was among the six hostages killed by Hamas in late August.

In an unforgettable image, Rachel clutches Orna’s hand, a searing portrait of two mothers united by an unfathomably painful bond.

As the war progresses, Israel has incredibly reasserted its military might in the region, a critical deterrent after the shock of October 7. But the 100 hostages, alive and dead, remain a deep and open wound. How does a country carry on when its sons and daughters, spouses, parents, and grandparents are still not home?

The night before the memorial, we had the profound honor of hearing Rachel address a UJA audience. In her first public remarks in the United States since Hersh’s funeral, she delivered a gripping speech at our Wall Street Dinner, holding a room of 1,700 in absolute, rapt silence.

I urge you to watch it, in its entirety. 

Wearing a piece of masking tape with the number 423 to mark the number of days since October 7, when Hersh, along with all the other hostages, were first abducted into Gaza, Rachel begins by sharing memories of Hersh: his quirks, his dreams, the boy he had been growing up in America, and the man he was becoming in Israel.

Rachel recounts the harrowing moment her husband, Jon, first saw rumors of Hersh’s death online and the agonizing seven hours they spent reciting tehillim (psalms) until army intelligence officers and the FBI arrived at 4:00 a.m. to confirm the tragic news. She describes the inhumane conditions of the tunnels the hostages were found in, the starvation they endured.

Rachel also shares her journey, one that brought her before the United Nations, the president of the United States, the pope — and other leaders across the globe. She expresses profound gratitude to our UJA community and to the millions who sustained her with their support.

Despite the pain she’s endured, she tells us she feels blessed and lucky for the 23 years and 3 days she had with Hersh. She would not trade her grief for the privilege of being his mother.

And then from the depths of her heart, a call to action.

Rachel exhorts the room — and all of us — to use whatever power we have within our spheres of influence to fight for the release of the remaining hostages.

In her words: “It is righteous. It is holy. It is the singular most godly act you will ever do in your life.”

It is now 427 days since the hostages were abducted. Please God, may Rachel’s plea be answered.  

Shabbat shalom