“Could there be a greater demonstration of the strength and beauty of our nation?”
I
was attending the wedding of my sister’s nephew, Mordechai Goldberg, when Mr. Shauli Shamriz — father of the chassan’s commander, Shai Shamriz z”l, who was killed in Gaza in December of 2023 — was called up to the chuppah.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd as, under the stars of the night sky, Mr. Shamriz recited a tefillah for the safety of Israeli soldiers. Then, the men in the crowd, among them the chassan’s friends from the army, began to sing “Im eshkachech Yerushalayim…”
These boys, who had endured so much, witnessed such unimaginable horrors, and carried it with courage and faith, were raising their voices to recite this pasuk. Despite the magnitude of their pain, still they sang, they davened, they turned to Hashem.
The tinkling of broken glass ended the song. I looked around and thought: What place does the pain of the Churban and galus have at this simchah? Why ask a father in mourning to address a group who came together to rejoice at their friend’s marriage? Amid the hope and promise of a couple starting their lives together, why sing these difficult words here, now? It’s too hard. The pasuk tells us we must remember, but can we not at least have enough space from the pain to feel the joy?
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