David Loewenberg CBE President’s Bulletin Column November – December 2025

October 23, 2025
By David Loewenberg
Category: Bulletin

[Note: This was written by David on October 13, 2025/21 Tishri 5786]

Fellow Congregants,

Pam and I returned today, with Doron, to Hostage Square in Tel Aviv — this time after the release of the second wave of living hostages. Unlike yesterday’s visit, today the square was overflowing with people; all gathering to celebrate, to bear witness, and to be together in a place that, for two straight years, was a gathering place to share anguish, tears, and torment.

Hours after the releases, the plaza still pulsed with positive energy. Music played through loudspeakers, the jumbotrons broadcast footage from other Israeli celebrations, and people cheered as videos of reunions between hostages and their families appeared on screen. It was extraordinary — a nation exhaling after two years of fear and tension.

And yet, the joy was not unbroken. Amid the celebration, there was a quiet recognition that not all have returned, that some will never return, and that many bodies still await burial. Even in the moment of reunion, there was grief for hostages and soldiers whose stories remain incomplete and unfulfilled. It was, in many ways, a reflection of our most enduring Jewish instinct to hold joy and sorrow together, as we do when we break a glass beneath the wedding chuppah; that is, to remember that even at life’s highest points the work of repair is never done.

Later that same evening, we walked through Dizengoff Square, where impromptu Hakafot — circles of dancing — broke out in the streets. Dozens of yeshiva boys began to sing and dance, voices rising in joy and gratitude, calling out the words of the prophet Jeremiah (31:17): “V’shavu banim l’gvulam — Your children shall return to their borders.”

It was a spontaneous moment of faith and release — a reminder that even after unimaginable pain, the Jewish spirit dances forward. What struck me most was not only who was dancing, but who else joined them. People eating at outdoor cafés and non-kosher restaurants stopped mid-meal to clap along; one young man even ran out from his table to join the circle. It was as if all of Tel Aviv — religious and secular alike — needed to breathe again, to move together, to celebrate life.

As a congregation of committed Zionists, we celebrate the hostages’ return as a sacred victory — and yet, we know this is only the end of the beginning. There is so much healing, rebuilding, and so many challenges to unity still to come. Even as certain rituals may fade — or perhaps remain, as we still pray for the bodies of all the hostages to be returned, including Hadar Goldin whose body has been held in Gaza since 2014(!) — our hearts, our support, and our prayers must endure.

Walking home, Doron noticed that our Airbnb was eight buildings away from the home of Arik Einstein. He pointed out the simple, small, plaque noting Einstein’s residence, and I thought of the great songwriter’s words, “Ani v’ata n’shane et ha’olam — You and I will change the world.” (To be clear, Einstein wrote many famous lyrics, but these words from one of his classics were the ones that popped into my head.)

Change, after all, is not passive. It demands action, compassion, courage, and teamwork, “Ani v’ata”, from each of us, wherever we stand. It demands that we at Beth El Norwalk continue to gather as one community, to lift each other up, to find strength in prayer and presence, and to dedicate ourselves anew to the people and land of Israel. Our synagogue has always been a place where love of Israel is lived, not only spoken — and now more than ever, that love must find expression in solidarity, education, giving, and connection.

Yesterday, Pam and I watched workers dangling from the roof of the Tel Aviv Museum unfurling banners that read in Hebrew and English, “Shalom Al Yisrael — Peace Upon Israel.” These words are drawn from the famous verse in Psalm 128,

 

 

May the LORD bless you from Zion; may you share the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life, and live to see your children’s children. May peace be upon Israel!

May it be so.

B’Shalom,

David