Most people have not heard about this rally, and that’s a shame because it’s a deeply important part of our story.
Julie Kupershtein, mother of released hostage Bar Kupershtein, had been dreaming of this rally for almost two years. Her husband, Tal, who had been injured in a car accident, achieved astonishing physical and emotional milestones: He managed to stand again and regained his speech, “for Bar.” At the same time, Julie reached new heights of maternal and Jewish strength, forging a profound and unlikely bridge between the secular and charedi communities.
I had seen her on Shabbat, holidays, and weekdays slowly crafting a new, shared language. We last met just before the hostage deal, when she led a Shabbat for students and young adults who observed the first Shabbat of the year together in Jerusalem.
Over the course of two years, she had imagined what Bar’s homecoming would look like. She always said, “When Bar comes home, our journey will go through Bnei Brak. I don’t really know this city, but it embraced me and became my second home. People simply are unaware of the extraordinary people who make up this community.”
And then … it happened.
Thousands lined the streets of Bnei Brak, singing and dancing around Bar, accompanied by a motorcycle convoy that escorted the celebration. Bar arrived with family and friends, looking nothing like the stereotypical charedi crowd, for a reception in the City Council hall where Julie gave a moving speech. She shared that at Sheba Medical Center, Bar’s first stop immediately after his release, they allowed her to sleep next to him at the hospital’s maternity hotel — and she felt it was perfectly fitting. It truly was a birth.
At the end of her list of thanks, she thanked the Jewish people “for every single tear.”
Then the convoy brought this young man, who had worked at the Nova music festival, straight to the home of Rabbi Moshe Hillel Hirsch, one of the leading rabbis of the charedi community, for a short conversation. I watched as Julie spoke to the rabbi about the past two years, sharing insights and lessons. And I thought: someone like her really can bridge divides and find solutions.
Deputy Mayor Shlomo Elharar said at the event: “Bar, not only have you come home - you are bringing all of us back home!”
One can only hope. The tone and language of the former hostages, as they appeared in interviews and broadcasts, suggest they have risen to a higher plane. They speak of meaning, spirit, and soul.
May they elevate us - in politics, in the media, and online - together with them.
Never too late
This past Shabbat, 50-year-old Nir celebrated his bar mitzvah for the first time. “When I was 13, I didn’t know anything about tefillin or reading from the Torah,” he shared. “Over the years, I made a lot of progress in my Jewish observance, but I always felt that I missed out because I never had a bar mitzvah.”
For the past few years, Nir has prayed at a Chabad synagogue in the Agamim neighborhood of Netanya. As his fiftieth birthday approached, the rabbi asked him which Torah portion had been his bar mitzvah parashah. Nir said: “I was so embarrassed. I didn’t know what to answer. Finally, I told him, ‘I never had a bar mitzvah, so I don’t know.’” The rabbi, who knew how deeply connected Nir had become to Judaism, was stunned. When the congregants heard the story, they immediately decided to organize a bar mitzvah for him on his birthday— which was this past Shabbat.
Nir says the experience was overwhelming. His portion was Lech Lecha, the parashah in which our forefather Avraham undergoes circumcision at age 99. “That moved me deeply,” Nir explained. “I thought - if Avraham could do a brit milah at 99, surely I could do a bar mitzvah at 50. It’s never too late.”
The celebration was filled with moments he will never forget. “Imagine a 50-year-old father getting pelted with candy by his children,” he laughed, and he was moved to tears as his own father placed his hands on his head for the Priestly Blessing for the very first time. Even his mother-in-law told him how privileged she felt to attend - how often does it happen that a mother-in-law attends the bar mitzvah of her son-in-law?!
Between the singing, the festive meal, and being called up to the Torah, the community also made sure to pray for the entire nation of Israel. Nir says he is filled with gratitude — “to my family, to my rabbi, Rav Raphael Leviev, and of course to God, who never gives up on any of us.”
His hope is that his story will inspire others. “May we all be able to make up for what we missed,” he says, “and to repair what we can — no matter our age or situation.”
Short Fridays
I’m privileged to be part of a WhatsApp group with people who are just beginning to keep Shabbat. The questions are constant and often very moving. How do you prepare? What’s allowed and what isn’t? Does anyone have tips? And this week, almost all the questions focused on one thing: it’s the first Shabbat after switching back from daylight saving time to standard time.
I planned to write about the weekly Torah portion, Vayeira, but in light of all the questions and preparations, perhaps the most important thing to say is simply that these Fridays are especially short. Candle-lighting in the US is much earlier than last week (in Brooklyn, NY and Teaneck, NJ it’s 4:27 p.m.; in Baltimore it’s 4:40; and in London, UK 4:04).
Before anything else we need to be organized and get everything ready in advance so that we can welcome Shabbat calmly and without stress. The idea is to prepare the house and the food (and also the soul and the family) for a day that is not the end of the week, but the heart of the week!
Shabbat is coming, so I’ll keep this short. Think of someone else who might need the reminder.
Shabbat Shalom!
Want to read more by Sivan Rahav Meir? Google The Daily Thought or visit sivanrahavmeir.com