Editors note: What follows is the text of a speech that opened the community candlelight vigil held on Sunday morning, Feb. 23 at the Livingston Oval.

Good morning.

For those who don’t know me, my name is Joshua Commer; I am, first and foremost, a proud Jew, a husband, a father, and someone deeply connected to our people—both here in our community and in Israel.

Like many of you, I have felt the weight of the past year and a half—the unbearable grief, the anger, the pain. I have also seen the resilience of our people, the outpouring of love and support, and the unshakable unity that binds us together. That is why we are here today—not just to mourn, but to stand together, to remember, and to reaffirm our commitment to being a light in the face of darkness.

Today, we gather to speak about the Bibas family—about the tragic fate of little Kfir, Ariel, and their mother, Shiri. Their story is heartbreaking, but as Jews, we know that our response to tragedy must always be one of strength and action.

We stand here this morning, just as we did in the days following October 7. Then, we came together in shock, in grief, in horror, struggling to grasp the depths of the evil that had been unleashed upon our people. And now, months later, we find ourselves here again, mourning yet another unbearable tragedy.

This past week, the bodies of little Kfir Bibas, just 10 months old, and his 4-year-old brother, Ariel, were finally returned to us. For months, we prayed, we hoped—despite all reason—that maybe, somehow, these innocent children had survived. That maybe their mother, Shiri, had kept them safe. But instead, we have been forced to confront the devastating truth: These babies were murdered in cold blood by Hamas terrorists.

And just yesterday, we learned that the maimed body of their mother, Shiri, was finally released. The last image the world saw of her was as a captive, clutching her children, her face filled with terror. And now, we know that she, too, was brutalized and murdered. At the depths of inhuman evil, a mother and her two innocent sons were slaughtered—targeted not because of anything they did, but because they were Jews.

There are no words that can make sense of this. There are no explanations that can soften the cruelty of murdering a mother and her babies. We are left with grief, with anger, with horror at the depths of depravity.

But we are Jews. And as Jews, we know that grief alone is never our final response. We know that even in the face of our greatest suffering, we do not turn outward—we turn upward, and we turn to each other. Our answer to darkness has always been to create light.

This has been our way for generations. When we faced destruction, we rebuilt. When we were persecuted, we grew stronger. When our enemies tried to wipe us out, we clung tighter to our identity, to our mitzvot, to our connection with Hashem and each other. And today, when we are confronted with such unimaginable evil, our response must be even greater goodness.

For every innocent life taken, we commit to adding more kindness to the world. For every act of cruelty, we respond with an act of love. For every moment of darkness, we light another flame. This is how we fight back—not just with strength and resolve, but with an unshakable commitment to filling the world with holiness.

And so, this morning, as we mourn the Bibas family, as we remember the 1,200 lives lost on October 7; as we stand heartbroken for our brothers and sisters in Israel, we do what Jews have always done—we respond with mitzvot. We respond with acts of kindness. We respond by drawing closer to Hashem, to our people, and to the deepest, purest goodness within ourselves.

We are also filled with immense gratitude for every hostage who has made it home. Every life saved is a miracle. But there are still too many—held for over 505 days—who have not yet returned to their families. And so, we will continue to daven, to do mitzvot, to bring light into this world, praying that in the merit of the goodness we create, every single hostage will be brought home.

Every tefillah we say, every candle we light, every act of chesed we perform is our defiant response to the evil that was done to us. Every extra mitzvah is a declaration that we are still here, that Am Yisrael Chai, and that no matter how deep the darkness, we will always shine brighter.

May the souls of Kfir, Ariel, and Shiri Bibas be bound in eternal peace. May their father, Yarden, and their family find comfort. May Hashem avenge their blood, strengthen Am Yisrael, and may we soon see the day when every hostage returns home, when every Jewish family is whole, and when our world is filled with light instead of darkness.

Thank you.