Dear Friends,
Wednesday night’s event with Sapir Cohen and Sasha Troufanov was nothing short of extraordinary. With 350 strong and one heart, the atmosphere was electric—charged with emotion, hope, and Jewish pride.
As we gathered the day after Shavuot, the message of Jewish unity echoed powerfully through the evening. We came together from different backgrounds, affiliations, and walks of life, yet we stood as one people with one heart. Just like our ancestors at Mount Sinai, who were described in the Torah in the singular, “Vayichan sham Yisrael,” we, too, experienced that singularity last night—united in purpose, in prayer, and in love for our brothers and sisters.
So when the world, or the media, tries to tell us that we are hopelessly divided, fractured by politics or levels of observance, we’ll remember last night. We’ll remember the standing ovation, the shared tears, and the unshakable feeling of pride in being one family.
To Sapir and Sasha: Your courage lifted up the room. You reminded us of what we’re capable of as individuals and as a people. You are a living light in the darkness, and your strength inspires us all. We are forever changed.
To everyone who attended, thank you for being part of this unforgettable evening of strength, resilience, and unity.
Thank you to all the generous sponsors who made this monumental evening possible. A special thank you to the incredible team of volunteers for a truly fabulous job!
And yet, even as we celebrated the miracle of Sasha and Sapir’s return, we cannot—we must not—forget the plight of those still in captivity.
Our precious brothers and sisters—men, women, children, and the elderly—continue to languish in the dark, suffocating tunnels beneath Gaza.
As of today, they have been held for 608 days. 608 DAYS!!!
How can this be?! How has the world allowed this to go on for so long?
We dare not become numb. We dare not grow complacent. We must not let our outrage wane or our prayers fade. Whether in the media, in the halls of Congress, in the White House, or in the heavens above, we must continue to raise our voices—loud, unwavering, and relentless—until every last hostage is brought home: those who are still alive, and those whose lives were so cruelly taken while in captivity but must be returned to their families and laid to rest with dignity and sanctity.
Bring them home. In peace. All of them. NOW.
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos