When They Come Home

When They Come Home

From the desk of Rabbi David Lyon

“Al m’komo yavo v’shalom”
May he come to his place in peace (Exodus 18:23)

In Exodus, Moses learns from his father-in-law, Jethro, that if he delegated his workload to other responsible people, then all the people, including him, could go home in peace at day’s end, their work done, “על מקומו יבוא בשלום,” al m’komo yavo v’shalom. These words are also spoken by our loved ones when we are interred in our final resting place on earth, “May our dear one come to his/her eternal home in peace.”

The verse from Exodus is profound. Every day, with the cooperation of others, we should aim to finish the work that can be done. We accomplish what we can without delay because others are dependent on us for their peace. We should all arrive home at the end of a day’s work in peace. Likewise, at the end of our days, when our lifetime has been spent, we should arrive at our final resting place in peace, too.

However, at the end of our days, the peace that we seek is not in our hands, completely. Though plans for a funeral can be prearranged, the results rest in the hands of the survivors. The deceased is entirely dependent on the survivors to prepare the body with sacred duty, and to inter the body with care. As we do, we say, in effect, “Your community accompanies you to your final resting place in peace, providing you with honor and respect.” These words, spoken for the final time here, complete an arc that began years ago when loved ones once participated in the community’s wellbeing and peace, and contributed to their own peace, as well. When our days are done, the community we supported supports us. We should always come to the end of our day, and our days, in peace, having concluded our work with others.

This week, on day 843, Master Sergeant Ran Gvili was returned to Israel. Found by the IDF, he was returned to his homeland and laid to rest in sacred ground. His family and all of us mourn, but the agony of not knowing his whereabouts is done. He has come home to his place in peace.

Ran Gvili, who stepped into the line of fire to save lives at the Nova Music Festival on October 7th, honored his community with selflessness and self-sacrifice. Surely his hope was to enable his Israeli brothers and sisters to get home safely and in peace. Though it wasn’t meant to be on that tragic day, Ran Gvili gave his own life in order to save life. This week, he was brought home from his unmarked grave in Gaza, to be lovingly, and with every honor, interred in his sacred grave in Israel. Those who accompanied him there said, “על מקומו יבוא בשלום,” “may he come to his (eternal) home in peace.”

The community he served became the community that served him. Now our hope is that the whole community that has mourned will come to know peace at the end of each day. Perhaps it’s peace that comes in knowing that no hostage, alive or dead, remains in Gaza or at the mercy of horrific terrorists there. Perhaps it’s a collective breath that the Jewish people takes together before moving on, again. Though no peace is permanent, we can celebrate in this moment that the Jewish people and its allies have prevailed. Let us not fail to pursue the ancient promise and age-old dream that Israel will always be the place where the Jewish people can come home in peace.

L’Shalom,

When They Come Home 3
Rabbi David Lyon