“Nothing is sadder than a Jewish funeral.”
I heard these words years ago from the late Marcel-Jacques Dubois, a French Dominican priest who taught philosophy at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and I thought of them again this morning as thousands lined the streets for the funeral procession of Shiri Bibas and her sons, four-year-old Ariel and nine-month-old Kfir.
It’s so clear what Dubois meant: at Jewish funerals, there is no talk of heaven or angels, of what a great place Heaven is. The focus is squarely on bidding goodbye to the dead and honoring their memory. The thousands of mourners who stood outside on a cold Wednesday morning to watch the vans bringing the three members of the Bibas family to the cemetery close to their home in Kibbutz Nir Oz wanted to show their sorrow, which perhaps provides some comfort for the family.
Other than the funerals of one’s own family and close friends, no funeral could be sadder for Israelis than this one. On October 7, as videos made by Hamas terrorists circulated online, the one showing a terrified Shiri clutching her red-headed sons was the one I most hoped was fake. I told myself at first that it couldn’t be real, because who would kidnap such young children? But even as I tried to remain in denial, I knew it had to be real, because Shiri’s terrified expression could not be faked.
As the extent of the October 7 massacre became known and images of the victims and the kidnapped circulated online, the Bibas boys were instantly recognizable, and we came to see much of their lovely family in videos and photos; we felt for them as if they were our own family. I know a woman, a cook at a special-needs residence, who has been planning since October 7 to take all her vacation time and spend it cooking for the Bibas family once they were released. I imagine she was in the crowd today.
I think that, just as I was initially in denial about the kidnapping of the Bibas family, Israelis have collectively been in denial about the likelihood that the terror group that held them would let them survive. In November 2023, Yarden Bibas, Shiri’s husband and the boys’ father, was filmed by Hamas in a sick video learning of their deaths, supposedly in an air strike – although we now know they were murdered by the terrorists using their bare hands.
We kept believing, held on to hope
When the three of them were not released alive in the first or second hostage deals, and no proof-of-life video came out, it should have become clear that they were gone. But we kept believing, clinging to the lies the terror group had told about Hanna Katzir and Daniella Gilboa, both of whom were said to be dead but were released alive. Like the cook who painted her nails orange and planned menus for the Bibas family, we couldn’t accept the harsh truth.
I wonder how the people who tore down their posters all over the world feel now. It’s hard to imagine, but these people, those who celebrated their kidnapping and the murders committed in 2023 as “resistance,” may well be filled with joy today, thinking three Zionists who deserved to die are dead.
Perhaps we can take some comfort in feeling sorrow. We are not like those people. As angry as we are with Hamas, we can never celebrate the deaths of children, any children. The crowds lining the roads were adults who had come to mourn, in sharp contrast to the grotesque group of children brought to celebrate the parade of the Bibas family’s coffins when they were handed to the Red Cross in Gaza last week.
As the vans made their way to the cemetery, it became clearer than ever how nothing could be sadder than this Jewish funeral. The sorrow we feel can be our gift to the Bibas family and to ourselves.