EFRAT, West Bank — As a rabbi, wedding officiant, and mohel who performs britot (ritual circumcisions) and conversions in Israel and worldwide, I have always worried about what I would do if air-raid sirens sounded while I was performing a brit milah. Would I halt the proceedings and send everyone to the bomb shelters? Or, if the procedure was under way, would I send everyone else to the shelter until it was safe to move the baby? The work demands such focus, I have always feared that I might not even hear the alarms. It took until the first anniversary of Oct. 7 to find out.
Feeling uneasy the entire day, my calendar filled with happy occasions, I started in Jerusalem with the bris of a third sibling. The event was in the synagogue where we had been members for seven years, a place I used to call home. The day continued in my hometown of Efrat with two adult conversions, a task that never gets old. Making more Jews on the first anniversary of the darkest days in recent Jewish history felt significant, yet something still didn’t feel right.
The anxiety began a few days prior on Shabbat, as we read the Torah portion for Simchat Torah. Memories of Black Sabbath, when Israel first came under attack, flooded back. Air-raid sirens, running in and out of stairwells, and a decision to complete the service outside all came rushing back. The final segment of the Torah cycle brought back memories of a participant hugging his son in army fatigues, a poignant moment in the midst of chaos.
The first anniversary of that grim day was marked with a second bris in Har Gilo, where explosions were heard during the ceremony. Despite the close call, we pressed on as normal, only later realizing how close the danger had been. Reflecting on the day, the stress and emotional toll of a year of living through constant threats and attacks hit me hard.
Driving home, tears welled up, a rare occurrence for me. It wasn’t until the following day that I understood the depth of my emotions. Dodging bullets, running into shelters, and living in constant fear for a year had taken its toll. The day marked a year of persistent stress that isn’t over, with no distance from the tragedy we’re still experiencing.
Watching the televised memorial with my family, I couldn’t bring myself to participate. The weight of the past year was too heavy, and I could only look forward to where we’re headed. Keeping the hostages and fallen soldiers in our thoughts is crucial, but I struggled to look back at the trauma we’ve endured.
Support the Jewish Telegraphic Agency
Help ensure Jewish news remains accessible to all. Your donation to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency powers the trusted journalism that has connected Jewish communities worldwide for more than 100 years. With your help, JTA can continue to deliver vital news and insights. Donate today.
is a rabbi, a wedding officiant, and a mohel who performs britot (ritual circumcisions) and conversions in Israel and worldwide. Based in Efrat, he is the founder of Magen HaBrit, an organization protecting the practice of brit milah and the children who undergo it.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.