Heroes are everywhere. During our nation’s war against evil, heroes have emerged from every sector of society. Soldiers, reservists, first responders of October 7, soldiers’ wives, volunteers from across the world, and simple people of faith. Among the brave warriors of Israel, one quiet group of heroes stands out: those who risk their lives and mental well-being to attend to the bodies of the victims of the massacre. As the horrific images attest, many of the victims were badly mutilated and, in some cases, burned beyond recognition. The strong and silent heroes who identify the victims and bury them according to religious rites afford these victims a final semblance of dignity to the dehumanized bodies that once cradled their human souls.
The silent courage of these heroes showcases how deeply we value the dignity of a human body even after life has departed from it. Showing final respects and honoring the dead is deeply rooted in both the ethics of our Torah and in our life-revering culture.
The mysterious ceremony of egla arufa, the ritual a city’s leadership must perform when a murder victim is discovered near its borders and the perpetrator cannot be identified, typifies the care and dignity we afford the dead. If an unattended corpse is discovered, it isn’t quietly buried. Instead, the public ceremony of egla arufa is performed where the city’s leaders either confess or be held accountable because the person died on their watch even though they are not directly responsible. A tragic death cannot simply be ignored.
You would think that an anonymous John Doe discovered in a barren field would not justify a public response. Typically, unidentified bodies belong to people who inhabit the margins of society. When established members of society go missing, family members and neighborhood friends conduct a search. Presumably, the unidentified corpse described in the Torah is a homeless person without much family, who has fallen off the social radar.
Yet, it is precisely when the dignity of human life is most vulnerable that it must be strongly reinforced. Specifically at the moment when life can be easily taken for granted, the shared sanctity of every human being must be underscored. The public ceremony of egla arufa demonstrates that every human being is created equal in the eyes of G-d, and each possesses divine dignity. By burying the unidentified corpse, we honor the imprint of Hashem in each human being.
Surprisingly, the Midrash asserts that Yosef, in his first correspondence to his father, alludes to the egla arufa ceremony, reminding Yaakov that decades earlier, they had jointly studied this topic. Evidently Yosef’s reference to the egla arufa delivers an important message to his father. Though initially Yosef was tragically ripped from his family and sold into slavery, he has now emerged as the second most powerful man on earth, single-handedly steering a hungry world through a nightmarish famine. Yosef’s prescient wisdom and tireless dedication saved millions of lives. By preserving life and protecting human dignity, Yosef was, in effect, implementing the doctrines of egla arufa.
The vicious assault of October 7 included numerous acts of horror and barbarism. One of the most repulsive aspects of this massacre was the manner in which human bodies were treated. As if torturing and murdering in cold blood was not sufficiently nauseating, the terrorists mutilated and dismembered lifeless bodies. Pure and unadulterated evil, destruction, and wanton violence for absolutely no purpose. The grotesque crimes of these Islamic terrorists demonstrate how little they regard the concept of human dignity, and how cheap life is in their eyes.
Their dehumanizing crimes made our own response and gentle treatment of the dead bodies even more critical. Our silent heroes, including soldiers, ZAKA volunteers, and countless others, spent weeks identifying and burying victims, solemnly restoring dignity to those who had been twice victimized—in life and in death. To provide this honor, many subjected themselves to hideous sights and unforgettable images that will forever mar their inner conscience. These heroes of Israel paid a steep price in their sacred calling of providing honor to the dead. In many instances, they operated under fire, risking their own lives to restore dignity to the deceased victims.
This quiet heroism underscores the clash of ideologies in this war: this is a battle between a culture of death and a culture of life and dignity. Between a culture that cheapens human life and one that reveres and treasures it. Our war isn’t merely a military campaign, but a clash of cultures with two competing value systems.
Though the murderers speak in the name of religion, they are nothing more than brutal atheists masquerading as religious zealots. They describe a god that does not exist. Denying the traits of G-d is tantamount to denying His presence.
We believe that an all-powerful Hashem lovingly created Man and endowed him with the divine like traits of free will, consciousness, and creativity. Our respect for every human being acknowledges mankind as the masterpiece of creation. We respect this divine masterpiece even after life has departed from it. Hashem’s divine image isn’t limited to our souls, but to the bodies that once cradled His divine essence. By defiling human bodies, these charlatans scorn any notion of a tzelem elokim. These savage beasts fictionalize about a god of bloodlust and anger, not one of compassion and mercy. By mutilating dead bodies, they mutilate the very image of Hashem.
By mocking human dignity, these violent murderers haven’t just committed a grave theological sin, but have also doomed themselves and their culture to failure and futility. Belief in human dignity isn’t just a religious value; it drives human achievement and progress. Through our G-d-given creativity we believe that we are empowered to improve the world and redeem it for mankind. If Hashem is compassionate, he desires human prosperity. If Hashem covets well-being, we must be His agents to advance and improve the world. Prolonged suffering isn’t consistent with a merciful G-d who crafts human beings in His image. A culture that reveres human dignity is religiously driven to improve and advance the human condition in our world.
A culture with no concern for human dignity provides little incentive for change, growth, or progress. When life is cheap, suffering is acceptable. When suffering is acceptable, progress is stunted. When progress is stunted, people revert to barbarism. By mutilating bodies, these barbarians don’t just disfigure Hashem. They maim their own society and dismember themselves of any real progress or advancement.
It is tragic but ironic that terrorists spend billions of dollars building machineries of death while their leaders live in luxury. Terror tunnels have absolutely no ulterior motive other than to wreak havoc and death. Instead of investing in human beings, these bloodthirsty savages invested in death. How much potential and human capital was wasted in the pursuit of blood and revenge? How many lives could have been improved had the monies been spent on life rather than on death and destruction?
Our battle continues. They viciously defile life, and we gently protect it. They dehumanize and we revere. They gloat over corpses while we honor the sanctity of the departed. They will sink into their own tunnels of hatred while we build towers of achievement. There is only one winner in this clash of cultures.
Final Note
On a recent trip to the U.S., I was deeply moved by how engaged Jewish communities are with their brothers fighting the war in Israel. Also, with how deeply sorrowful people are about the ongoing tragedy. When people ask me how overseas Jews can better identify with the suffering of Israelis, I think it best that the Shabbat prayers on behalf of the IDF soldiers be prefaced with a brief eulogy of a fallen soldier, coupled with one of the many stories of heroism of the valiant fighters who defend our land and our people. Personalizing the war in such a manner may help people feel more deeply the pain of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.
Rabbi Moshe Taragin is a rabbi at Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, a hesder yeshiva. He has semicha and a BA in computer science from Yeshiva University, as well as a master’s degree in English literature from the City University of New York.
