It’s surreal to stand here in acknowledgement that today we are marking three years since the unthinkable tragedies of October 7. For so many of us, who remember where we were on the morning of October 7 when we heard the news of the Hamas attacks on kibbutzim and the Nova festival, it was hard to imagine what it would feel like to be three years on from that moment. There was such a long time where it felt like we didn't know if it was OK to laugh, to feel joy, or to hope that a better future was possible. I'm not suggesting that we have reached that better future yet. The world continues to feel heavy and to break our hearts. But what I am feeling today here, on this beautiful afternoon, surrounded by community members, and with the opportunity to remember, to commemorate, and to share this incredible piece of art with our community, is the power of resilience in both the human spirit and our community.
Last year, many of you remember seeing or participating in this community art project. These Wings of Hope were a collaboration between our Early Learning families, our afterschool students, and members walking through the lobby every day. These wings are inspired by the artwork of Livnat Kutz, who was killed on October 7, and who in the summer before her death created a similar piece of community art in her home in Kfar Aza. Our Wings of Hope here at the JCC are designed not just to remind us of Livnat’s life and her story, which are precious, but also of her vision. Livnat’s art was created to embody the values of sustainability, creativity, and a sense of optimistic community belonging. Those are values we share here at the JCC and are proud to represent here in her memory.
Jewish tradition teaches us that hope is not just blind optimism, but rather a spiritual practice. The great teacher Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks wrote: “Judaism is a faith for those who seek to change the world. That is unusual in the history of faith. Most religions are about accepting the world the way it is. Judaism is a protest against the world that is in the name of the world that ought to be. To be a Jew is to seek to make a difference, to change lives for the better, to heal some of the scars of our fractured world.”
The assembly of broken toys into a piece of bright, colorful artwork for our community to enjoy is, of course, not a full tikkun, a full healing. What it is, instead, is a memorial to the individual lives that were lost on October 7, and a reminder that our tradition gives us the space and maybe even the mandate to continue to acknowledge the world’s brokenness and to work together to bring a better world that we wish to see into being.
Today, and in the future when you come across our Wings of Hope at the JCC, I invite you to bring to mind the people you are remembering on this somber anniversary, Livnat Kutz and her family, others we have lost, and to consider an intention you might have to bring Livnat’s vision of hope, of community, and of tikkun to life.
May their memories be for a blessing.
