The six weeks in January, during which we read the Torah portions recounting our slavery and redemption from Egypt, are known as the period of “Shovavim.” This name forms an acronym from the initial letters of the Torah portions read during these weeks. Traditionally, this period invites us to relive the heady and transformative moments of redemption, reconnecting with the enduring legacy of our liberation.

Our people are now facing a profoundly different six-week period. We long for the clarity and euphoria of those historic six weeks between departing Egypt and arriving at Sinai.

Over the next six weeks, as our hostages return, our people will face extraordinary challenges. Living through Jewish history is never simple or straightforward, but this moment will test us in ways we have never encountered. We have no clear roadmap, and the outcomes are difficult to foresee.

We are often tasked with holding conflicting emotions at once. The Gemara describes a person who loses a relative, beginning by sorrowfully reciting the bracha of Dayan Ha’emet, accepting Divine judgment. Yet, if the same person inherits money from the deceased, he also recites a bracha expressing gratitude to Hashem. In a modern context, the second blessing might seem insensitive, but the concept of reciting two conflicting brachot highlights the profound capacity to hold grief and gratitude, sorrow and hope, within the same experience.

Our current challenge feels even more daunting. We are not merely asked to hold conflicting emotions for a fleeting moment; we will be tested continuously– week after week.

Additionally, we will not just face the personal struggle of losing a relative but events which are deeply intertwined with our collective dreams for our beloved Israel and our shared future. As a nation, we will swing to emotional extremes, navigating profound highs and crushing lows. I am writing this article hours before we await the return of our first hostages. No one has the answers, and I imagine those answers will shift as the process unfolds. By the time you read this, the situation probably will have evolved into something very different. We are about to hurtle into a vast and uncertain unknown, shrouded in a confusing fog.

What is clear is that every Jew must open their hearts and souls to the jagged and unpredictable emotional journey that lies ahead. It is all too tempting to turn away, to retreat into a protective cocoon and shield ourselves from these overwhelming emotions and the collective experience they demand us to face.

Jewish identity and Jewish history are calling us…to courage, resilience, triumph and, above all, profound sympathy.

Sympathy, First

After his initial attempts to redeem our people fail, Moses voices his anguish to God: “Why have You harmed the people?” My own teacher, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, explained that Moshe’s complaints to Hashem were not an act of irreverence. Moses fully understood, on an ideological level, that redemption is a process and takes time. However, witnessing the unimaginable suffering of his fellow Jews he struggled to comprehend why such agony had to persist. While he accepted the theological reality, on a deeply human level, he was overwhelmed by the pain of watching his people endure such unbearable torment.

Sympathy and emotional compassion must always precede ideology. The issues we currently face are deeply complex, with many layers and factors to consider. Before engaging in the ideological or political dimensions of the matter, it is essential to first open our hearts and deeply connect with the whirlwind of emotions that so many groups of Israelis are experiencing. There are so many circles of people in Israel who will be carrying heavy emotions through this process. It is crucial we navigate this rocky journey together, united in compassion and solidarity.

Victory, Sorrow and Scars

The families of our hostages are preparing for two very different outcomes. Some will undoubtedly celebrate in triumph when living hostages are released while others will mourn in anguish upon receiving the worst of news. No outsider can possibly imagine the complex emotions these families will carry and how they are intertwined in a way beyond words.

Families of hostages yet to be released will endure a harrowing six weeks, trapped in the fragile uncertainty of the ceasefire, at the mercy of terrorists seeking to exploit both their vulnerability and emotions. The psychological toll of waiting, compounded by the tension of an unresolved outcome, will leave them hanging in limbo, torn between hope and fear.

Families of soldiers who have paid steep prices during this war will struggle with lack of closure. Pursuing the war to a more decisive outcome would have offered clarity that this ceasefire, no matter how it is interpreted, simply cannot provide. The inconclusiveness and ambiguity of this outcome only intensifies the heavy emotional burden.

Families of terror victims will be forced to confront the painful prospect of seeing the murderers of their loved ones go free. Despite their horrific acts, these homicidal killers who have spilled innocent blood will be honored by throngs of bloodthirsty enemies. The emotional toll of such an unjust reality is difficult to fathom, as is the deep sense of betrayal felt by these families.

Relief and Fear

The general population of Israel will probably vacillate between triumph, relief and fear. It is crucial that we recognize and appreciate our victory. Despite the shock of October 7 and confronting one of the darkest moments of Jewish history since the Holocaust, we rallied, defended ourselves, and inflicted deep wounds or eliminated many of our enemies. We cannot allow the confusion or disappointment over what wasn’t achieved to diminish the magnitude of our victory. Don’t let the hostile media cloud our accomplishments.

We are victorious, yet we are a nation deeply weary, exhausted from the weight of war. This is a war fought by too few soldiers, and the burden placed on those who have battled weighs heavily upon them, their wives, and their families. Many of us are simply grateful for the chance to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, to catch our breath, and perhaps, just perhaps, to enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep.

Additionally, we will all face psychological warfare as our enemies attempt to twist their resounding defeat into a false narrative of victory. We will be confronted with images and videos designed to frustrate and infuriate us.

Finally, by releasing so many unrepentant terrorists, we are taking tremendous risks. We are a tired nation, yes, but we are also a frightened nation, caught between our victories and our fears. Our hopes and our dread.

Compassion, Not Politics

As there are so many raw emotions swirling in this uncertain future it is crucial to prioritize the emotional component—whatever it may be—over heated political debates. Firstly, have the intellectual humility to realize that no one has easy answers to our collective predicament. More importantly, ensure that you are first feeling all these emotions before you argue your political position. Let your heart both rejoice and be broken alongside our people before your mind stiffens into a political stance.

It’s all too easy to become entangled in intense political discourse, but for those living through these emotions, political discussions feel distant and disconnected.

If you know people in these first line circles who are caught in the emotional whirlwind, reach out and let them know you are thinking of them. During our struggle with our son’s injury, it meant the world to us when others shared that they were thinking of us. It made us feel less alone. Make those you know feel less isolated in their experience. Offer them a shoulder not your opinion.

If you don’t know anyone in these immediate circles, at your Shabbat tables, instead of diving into stimulating and spirited political arguments, take a moment to read their stories and step into their shoes and enter their world. Political disagreements will dominate the news cycle. See through them to something deeper, something more spiritual, more meaningful, more historical, and more collective.

This is a time to bow in deference, celebrate together, weep together, stand together and believe together. Walk together with our people, heart to heart. Jewish history is calling us.

The writer is a rabbi at the hesder pre-military Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, with Yeshiva University ordination and an MA in English literature from the City University of New York. His most recent book, Reclaiming Redemption: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press), is available in bookstores or at www.reclaimingredemption.com