A week ago, over 500 people gathered in the main sanctuary of Kehilat Nitzanim in Jerusalem for an evening none of us will forget. Members of our community and residents from across the neighborhood came together to hear the extraordinary story of Sasha Troufanov and his mother, Elena – two survivors who endured the unimaginable and emerged with a message of hope, resilience, and deep spiritual insight.
On October 7, Sasha, Elena, Sasha’s grandmother Irina, and his partner, Sapir, were abducted from Kibbutz Nir Oz by Hamas and Islamic Jihad terrorists. On that same horrific day, Sasha’s father, Vitaly, was brutally murdered. Elena was eventually released after 54 days in captivity. Sasha remained imprisoned for 498 days.
They shared with us that Shabbat afternoon a harrowing account of survival and a profound reflection on human strength, faith, and the bonds that hold us together. Their testimony moved us to tears – tears of sorrow, empathy, and above all, admiration for their courage and their clarity.
Throughout their ordeal, Sasha and Elena endured the deepest despair and pain. And yet, through the darkness, they discovered within themselves reservoirs of resilience they had never imagined.
Sasha’s reflections, in particular, struck a deep chord. What he learned during his captivity is not only personal – it is a message for all of us.
Faith and divine providence
Before his abduction, Sasha did not consider himself religious. But in captivity, he sensed a guiding presence, what he described as Divine providence, at work even in the chaos. He realized that while we cannot control our future, we can choose how to respond to the present. That understanding gave him the strength to continue. It taught him that even in the darkest moments, a spark of meaning, a glimmer of direction, can shine through.
Unity and collective responsibility
Sasha spoke of discovering the profound power of Jewish unity. Despite his personal suffering, he came to feel deeply connected to the Jewish people – to their story, to their pain, and to their strength. He said he would have willingly sacrificed himself for the sake of that unity. He realized that we are not isolated individuals but threads in a shared tapestry – a people bound together by history, tradition, and purpose. That sense of belonging became a source of strength that helped him hold on when all seemed lost.
Love and commitment to others
More than once, Sasha said that his will to survive was not for his own sake but for his mother’s. His thoughts were with her well-being, her life, her need to continue. This, too, was a powerful reminder: Sometimes, the greatest strength comes from our love for someone else. That love can become the force that keeps us alive.
Prayer from the heart
In captivity, Sasha discovered the true essence of prayer. Not the rote recitation of words, but a raw, honest, desperate cry from the soul. He described how he prayed – not from a book but from the deepest part of himself. Those prayers, he said, gave him peace. They gave him hope. They connected him to something larger than fear, larger than pain.
As a community, we were not only witnesses to Sasha and Elena’s testimony – we were participants in an act of healing and unity. We prayed together. We cried together. And we left that gathering transformed.
I want to express special thanks to David Rozenson, CEO of Beit Avi Chai, who made the connection with Sasha and Elena possible; to Hadassah Fidler, who moderated the event with sensitivity and professionalism; and to Talya and Tzvi Heller and the many volunteers who prepared Seuda Shlishit and created a warm, welcoming atmosphere.Sasha and Elena’s courage to speak publicly is a gift. Their story reminded us of the power of faith in the face of terror, of love in the face of hate, and of unity in the face of loss. It reminded us that the human spirit, even when broken, can still rise, still believe, and still dream.
As we continue to pray for the safe return of all the hostages, for the healing of grieving families, and for the strength of our people, we carry with us the message of that evening: that hope, faith, and unity are not just ideals. They are survival tools. They are lifelines. And they are ours to hold on to.
The writer is the senior rabbi of Kehilat Nitzanim in Jerusalem and formerly served as Rosh Kollel of Torah Mitzion and senior rabbi of the Baron Hirsch Synagogue in Memphis, Tennessee (2000–2016).