Finding Light in the Darkest of Places: Learning from Eli Sharabi

Earlier this month, I attended a deeply moving talk. Speaking to an audience of 600 at a Conservative synagogue in Palos Verdes, California, Eli Sharabi, a hostage who endured 491 days in Hamas captivity, recounted his abduction, separation from his wife and daughters, and his subsequent life in the Gaza tunnels. He was chained, starved, and deprived of news from the outside, yet he tried to find something to live for every day.

The Power of Resilience

What was there to live for? How does one make it through the day in such an extreme situation?

Sharabi’s advice was to appreciate the non-material things: family and friends, the freedom to see the sunlight, go for a walk, or take a shower. Last, but not least, he emphasized the connection to the All-Merciful Source.

Sharabi spoke more about his spiritual practices in captivity during a recent interview in the magazine Ha-Mizrahi.

“We all looked forward to Friday nights. I would recite Eshet Chayil (“Woman of Valor”) – saying it for my mother, my sisters, my wife – and I would become emotional. We would make kiddush over water because what else could we do? We saved a quarter of a pita to make ha-motzi. . . These moments connected us to our memories and gave us tremendous hope. Sometimes spiritual strength was worth more than a meal.”

Rooted in these practices, Sharabi felt Divine Providence carrying him through his darkest times in the tunnels of Gaza.

The Struggle After Freedom

After his release, he faced even harder challenges. Following his transfer via Red Cross to Israel, Sharabi was met by a social worker who told him that his mother was waiting to see him.

Mother? Not his wife and children?

That’s how he learned that they had not survived. As Sharabi shared during his talk, he broke down in tears for the first time since his abduction.

“I made a choice,” he said, “right there and then, to keep living.”

Freed, he found himself in an even darker place, needing G-d’s help again to go on. It was only fitting that Sharabi finished his talk with the synagogue cantor leading the crowd in singing Shir La-Maalot (Psalm 121):

I lift my eyes up to the mountains:

From where will my help come?

It’ll come from G-d, Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot give way.

Your guardian, He will not slumber. . .

Your Protector, He’s always at your right hand.

“When we live in His world, there is hope in the face of despair; light in the face of darkness,” commented Rabbi Doron Perez on Eli Sharabi’s interview in the same issue of the magazine.

“Somehow, even if we don’t understand, everything is for the best. When we are broken, we are whole, and when we are fractured, we are complete. Even when things are so not okay, they are okay.”

A Shared Journey of Grief

Rav Perez was relating Sharabi’s experience to his own: his son Daniel disappeared on October 7 battling Hamas. For almost six months, the Perez family didn’t know if he was alive or captured. They finally learned that he, just like Sharabi’s family, perished on October 7.

Eli Sharabi’s talk took place five days after the Bondi Beach massacre. Can the times be any darker? How can we bring the light back?

Listening to Sharabi, I realized that the light we want to live in is the light we ourselves need to project into the world.

Finding Light in Darkness

As this long and trying year reaches its end, I feel we are beginning to finally emerge from darkness. By the end of Hanukkah, when all candles are lit, we will have accumulated a lot of inner light. In the depth of winter, we kept it, and now is the time to share it. There is enough of it to last the whole year.

Embracing the Journey

The journey of life is filled with ups and downs. It is a dance between joy and sorrow, light and dark. Each moment teaches us something valuable. It reminds us of our strength and resilience.

As we navigate through our own struggles, let us remember Eli Sharabi's words. Let us cherish the moments of connection, the warmth of family, and the beauty of the world around us.

In embracing these truths, we can find a deeper sense of purpose. We can transform our pain into light, illuminating the path for ourselves and others.

Lane Igoudin, Ph.D., publishes Blessing the Sea, a Jewish mindfulness newsletter. He has written for Forward, Jewish News, and Jewish Weekly, and is the author of the recent memoir A Family, Maybe. Find him @laneigoudin or at laneigoudin.com.