July 25, 2024|י"ט תמוז ה' אלפים תשפ"ד A Hero's Legacy: Lessons of Emunah from Maoz Morell's Parents By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

This past week, our community hosted Eitan and Varda Morell, who spoke to us about their son, Maoz, Hy’’d. He was fatally wounded fighting in the Gaza Strip on February 15 and died from his wounds on February 19. During the war, our shul has had the custom of reciting a "mi she-bairach," a prayer for IDF soldiers, after Shacharit and Mincha. When I recited the "mi she-bairach" that evening with Eitan Morell, Maoz's father, present, I felt very emotional and even distraught. Here I was praying for the soldiers in front of someone whose son had fallen in battle. God listened to my prayer and the prayers of countless others who pray for the safety of the IDF soldiers, but in Maoz’s case, the answer was no.

There have been parents of fallen soldiers who have spoken to communities over the past nine months, but this was the first time that parents of a fallen soldier spoke to our community. Eitan and Varda spoke movingly about how Maoz was fatally injured and how he managed to stay alive long enough for the soldiers in his unit to visit him in the hospital before he passed away. They spoke about his bravery in the IDF and his struggles as a student, as well as his determination to succeed in school and in his religious growth. They shared various workbooks they found that contain lists of Torah he wanted to study, goals for the upcoming day and week, and other lists related to his religious growth. They gave us a window into his personality and wanted to share his story to keep his memory alive. They reflected on attending another boy’s wedding and understanding that Maoz would never marry or start a family who would remember his legacy. Thus, they are on a mission to visit different communities and create memories by sharing Maoz with those in attendance.

I was amazed at the grace with which Varda and Eitan spoke. Here was a couple that tragically lost their son, and they wanted to bring him to life, while not overwhelming the audience, balancing unbearable sadness with humor. They spoke from the heart. They were real and authentic. After they spoke, I thanked them for sharing Maoz with us, for sharing a piece of Eretz Yisrael with us, and for showing us what true emunah (faith) means. Notably, they didn’t share overtly spiritual messages about maintaining our faith in trying times.

Afterward, Varda told me that she didn’t view herself as someone who is defined by her emunah. She and Eitan were simply doing what they could to continue Maoz's memory. To me, however, these two parents represent what true emunah is. True emunah is more than professing some religious belief that everything is for the best. True emunah is summoning superhuman strength to respond heroically to the evil around us. Rav Soloveitchik has written that our goal when confronting evil is not “to use harmonizing formulas in order to hide and disregard evil… We do not wonder about the ineffable ways of the Holy One, but instead ponder the paths man must take when evil leaps up at him. We ask not about the reason for evil and its purpose, but rather about its rectification and uplifting. How should a man react in a time of distress? … Suffering comes to elevate man, to purify his spirit and sanctify him, to cleanse his mind … to sensitize his soul and expand his horizons.” Varda and Eitan personified this mission that Rav Soloveitchik laid out for us. They don’t profess to understand, but they respond heroically.

One way to respond to tragedy is to teach emunah. Another way to respond to tragedy is to embody emunah. One evening this past week, Varda and Eitan embodied emunah in the most trying circumstances. They responded to tragedy not with a lofty theological discourse about how everything is for the best, but simply by sharing their son's memory with others to inspire them to follow his exemplary character and keep his memory alive. This was a lesson of emunah that I experienced unlike almost any other time in my life. It was so tragic and yet so profoundly inspiring.