I asked my students to think about the words “Ein keitz l’yemei hara’ah— there’s no end to the days of evil”
A few weeks ago, I went with a group of second-year seminary students to the site of the Nova Festival massacre. These students had experienced the shock, the horror, the fear of October 7 firsthand when they were in seminary last year. Together, we came face-to-face with a scene of the tragedy.
The students spent an hour silently surveying the field, internalizing the collection of pictures on pickets surrounded by candles, flowers, and tearstained visitors. Then we sat on the grass in a corner far off from listening ears. To the soft sound of guitar strumming, we sang songs of holy words and connection to Hashem.
Among those songs was “Chasoif,” the last paragraph of Maoz Tzur. After one round, I asked my students to think about the words “Ein keitz l’yemei hara’ah — there’s no end to the days of evil.”
“If I didn’t know better,” I said, “I would think these were words of complaint, of challenging Hashem, and of losing hope. At this site, we can surely tap into the feelings of despair, but is that really where we are supposed to go with our pain?”
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