Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses an unlikely scenario where the Temple courtyard was under siege by invaders and the cohanim were forced to take shelter in the Temple. In such a case, they are permitted to eat the sacrificial meat in the sanctuary, and even in the Holy of Holies (Ramban, Bamidbar 18:10).

Imagine this doomsday scene: the remnants of a massacred group, hiding in the Temple and somehow reverently eating from the sacrifices. The paradox of human psychology is that times of great deprivation and suffering, though this ought to be the time of greatest anger and alienation, bring certain people even closer to God. I thought it meaningful to reflect on this and how it corresponds to a number of reports from our holy hostages of October 7, which I am quoting from a Jerusalem Post article (Sivan Ramas Meir, 10/20/25):


“Eitan Horn of Kibbutz Nir Oz, who returned from captivity, shared that it was specifically in Gaza that he fasted on Yom Kippur. He is 37 years old, and there, for the first time in his life, he observed the holy day properly.”


“Segev Kalfon recounted that when he saw all the Hamas men on stage in Gaza, all he wanted was to climb onto the stage and shout: ‘Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad’ — Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. Now he is home, able to say Shema Yisrael freely, with everyone around him.”


“Bar Kuperstein said that the song that strengthened him most, and that he sang to himself over and over again, were: “Ve’afilu behastara shebetoch hahastara, bevadai gam sham nimtza Hashem Yitbarach” — Even in the darkest places, when you don’t feel God, when it seems He is hiding, He is still there, present with you. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov wrote those words 200 years ago. They took on new meaning in the Hamas tunnels.”


“Rom Braslavski shared that the terrorists offered to convert him to Islam, promising him more food and better conditions if he agreed. But he kept telling them, over and over: “I am a strong Jew!” Now, facing the cameras, he said: “I want people to understand that they are Jews, that they should do more mitzvot. Hamas did this to me only because I am a Jew. A Jew must know that he comes from greatness, that he’s not like everyone else.”


“Eliya Cohen, who returned from captivity several months ago, told how much he missed his tefillin. While held hostage by Hamas, he invented something both creative and moving: ‘Every morning I would go to one side of the room and imagine putting on my tefillin. I would go through the whole process, step by step, in my imagination. Sometimes, I could actually feel the tefillin on me.’”


Omer Shem Tov said this week how much he misses the connection he felt with God while he was in captivity — the closeness, the sense that he was speaking and that God was with him, listening. He described trying to rediscover that elevated feeling since his return.


Imagine that: Omer misses feeling as close to God as he was when he was a captive. How can anyone read these accounts and not weep with sadness and joy? The sadness of the suffering and the joy of the triumphant Jewish spirit in its connection to God in the darkest of moments.