At the end of November, a team of staff from Christians Standing with Israel (CSI) will be in Israel: to be there, to listen, and to offer comfort as best they can – in short, simply to stand with Israel. It is and remains desperately needed.
By Anemone Rüger
Even though three young women were released from captivity on January 19 as part of an agreement, and further releases have been announced, the fear for their loved ones continues for the vast majority of their families. How are they? Are they even still alive? All these questions are on everyone's mind at the forum for the families of the hostages in Tel Aviv. We are expected there.
“It is so incredibly precious to us that you are here, especially now!” says Merav, who welcomes us. Yes, we have heard this sentence many times during our visit. But everyone says it differently, anew, from the bottom of their hearts, with considerable effort, with burning eyes. It is not only the trauma of October 7th that causes the victims unbearable pain, but also the fact that Hamas has managed to present the victims to the international community as the actual perpetrators.
Merav introduces us to Ety and Brith: aunt and cousin of Itay Chen, from Kibbutz Nachal Oz. “Itay was in the army. He was also a great basketball player,” Ety tells us. “On October 7th, he was on duty with an armored unit near the Gaza Strip. They saw the hordes of terrorists coming and targeted them. Eventually, they ran out of ammunition.”
Helpless waiting
Four days later, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) finally managed to open the tank. They found one soldier dead inside; the other three were missing. "When my brother called to say Itay had been kidnapped, we were, curiously enough, relieved at first," Ety said. "But six months later, the dreaded knock came at the door. An army representative delivered the news that Itay was 99 percent certain to be dead."
The family is still in limbo, as Itay's body is currently being held by Hamas – well aware of how important it is for Jews to give their dead a dignified burial. "You need something to hold a funeral – at least a T-shirt the deceased was wearing. We have nothing. I've forgotten what my own kitchen looks like. This family forum has become our second home," says Ety. "Itay was the kind of person who always spread good cheer," says 15-year-old Brith. "I'm an only child; Itay was like a brother to me."
For a while, you can hold yourself together as a listener, then the emotions suddenly overwhelm you. I've brought three very different hand-knitted shawls with me, just in case. I immediately see which one belongs on which shoulder – the orange one for Ety, the white one for Brith, and the purple one for Merav, who's wearing all black. God's fatherly love seeps through the knitting pattern.
A touching look
We were already in the lobby, heading out, when we were asked to wait a moment. Someone wanted to see us. The next moment, an older man stood before us and introduced himself as Dani, Omri's father. Omri from the Nachal-Oz tent. His fight for his son had taken him all the way to the Pope, unfortunately without any apparent success. Nevertheless, this encounter meant a great deal to Dani. "I saw my father in his eyes," Dani said. "It was a sacred moment. We have a God, I believe that."
Dani's family came to Israel from Iraq in 1951. Omri's family experienced the Hamas attack on October 7th together in Nachal Oz. "Then they were separated: the terrorists took Omri, leaving his wife and two young daughters behind. They witnessed everything."
We hand Dani our card: ISRAEL, YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Everyone has signed it. Everyone hugs Dani goodbye. "As a father has compassion on his children"—these words from Psalm 103 suddenly come to mind, with a slight variation: "As a father fights for his children"... and goes to the ends of the earth for them. Thank you, Dani, for showing us the heart of a father!
