October 7: Considering How We Commemorate
Here we are, October 7. I can hardly believe it has already been two years, and yet I can’t believe it has only been two years.
Like many others, I remember that night vividly. The shock. The crushing dread. The bewilderment of watching, in real-time, how the perception of our safe, strong homeland crumbled before our eyes as horrific footage filled feeds across every social media app and news outlet.
The helplessness of it all. It didn’t feel real. And yet, as heartbreaking as that actual day was, it was only the beginning of two years of heartbreak and dread. As I write this, we are still fighting to return our hostages and remove the threat of Hamas. We are still witnessing the destruction and rising death toll in Gaza, and of course, our families in Israel remain in the line of fire of Iran and its proxies.
How do we commemorate a devastating day while the horrors and heartbreak are still ongoing? Is there even a purpose to commemorating an ongoing event?
The Jewish people are very well-versed in commemorating. Just about every holiday and holy day we observe is centered on remembering a story of our people on the brink of destruction, under oppression, facing some kind of challenge—and of course, how we overcame them.
Commemorative days and events serve many purposes. They can be a way to honor the sacrifice and lives of those who died. They can be a potent, communal, identity-shaping tool. They can also serve as a stark reminder and warning of what may come if different courses of action are not taken. And more.
So, on this particular day, with all that is still going on, I find myself asking, “How do we commemorate 10/7?”
As we ask this question, we can’t ignore the fact that at this very moment, there is a seemingly viable deal on the table. What if, indeed, the plan put forth by the American administration, backed by many Arab and Muslim countries and adopted by Israel, truly begins the process of ending the war and returning our hostages?
What then?
All of this brings to mind an element of the Jewish calendar that I used to have a difficult time appreciating: Tisha B’Av. Tisha B’Av is commonly described as the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. If you ask the rabbis what we are commemorating and why we are fasting, they list at least five calamities that occurred on that day. Some noticeable ones are the spies in the desert returning with a negative report about the land of Israel, delaying the entrance to the land for 40 years; both the first and second temples were destroyed, and over the generations, other tragedies, such as the expulsions from England and Spain, also occurred on the same day.
It’s a bit hard to believe. Did all these calamities truly happen on the same day?
The short answer is, maybe. However, our sages had incredible insight and foresight. Over the course of a millennium, they understood that if they were to commemorate every single tragedy their people had experienced, their calendar would be a nonstop series of days of commemoration and remembrance.
The idea of collecting calamities on a single day was a wise one. Think about it. How can people possibly lead a prosperous life if every day is a reminder of death, loss, defeat and helplessness? True, we are a people of intergenerational trauma, but we are also the people of intergenerational hope. In most of these days of commemoration, there is a common thread of loss and existential threat—but there is also a common thread of perseverance in the face of adversity, resilience and the Jewish people's ability to overcome any challenge that comes their way. Our sages provided us with a blueprint for remembering the sacrifices we made, without losing sight of all we stand to gain.
So, where does this leave us? Should we consider this blueprint as we consider how to mark October 7? Will we add an additional day of commemoration? Or will we choose to fold it into the existing cadence of our calendar? These are big questions that will take time for us to answer. Moreover, as we are still in the midst of it, we don't need to rush to conclusions. Over time, I believe, the answers to these questions will emerge based on how we want them to inform our collective unfolding story.
Perhaps, a good place to start as we commemorate the two-year mark of October 7 (and hopefully the beginning of the end of this dreadful war) we too will find the wisdom to honor all those who paid the ultimate price, those who stood in the breach and protected our people, so that we can build our future with our heads held high and hopefully usher in a new era of peace and prosperity for our people, the region and beyond.
