Posted on 08/04/25
Why Did You Stay Alive?
It was a moment I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
This past Simchat Torah, hundreds of young Nova survivors gathered at a Jerusalem hotel to celebrate the Yom Tov alongside bereaved families and families of hostages. Everything in their world had changed since the previous Simchat Torah — October 7, 2023. They talked, hugged, danced with the sifrei Torah. But one guest, a young man, sat off to the side, withdrawn and heavy-hearted.
Eliyahu Libman, whose son Elyakim was murdered at Nova after saving dozens, approached the young man with his wife, Avishag. I stood nearby, listening.
“What’s your name?” Eliyahu asked.
“Nachman Dahan,” came the tearful reply. Then, shaking, Nachman began to speak — about the friends murdered right beside him, about those kidnapped, about how he escaped, and how hard it’s been since to function, to return to anything like normal.
Eliyahu shared his own pain. “I’m Elyakim’s father,” he said. “He was a security guard at the Nova festival. He saved lives and was killed doing so. And you, Nachman — you survived. Tell me, why did you survive?”
Nachman had no answer.
Eliyahu continued: “Today is Elyakim’s first yahrzeit. But it’s also the anniversary of your salvation. You were granted life. I ask that you be happy today, also in memory of my Elyakim.
“And I want to ask something else. You didn’t answer me, and that’s okay. Take your time. But ask yourself: Why did I stay alive? How do I give meaning to this life I’ve been given again? What do I do with the gift I received on this day?”
I often wondered what became of Nachman.
Recently, I found out: He’s begun working, studying Torah, slowly rebuilding. And this week, in the Nova survivors’ WhatsApp group, a photo appeared — Nachman and his bride, Daniella, under the chuppah. The next day, the group held a festive sheva berachot for the couple. So many blessings. So much joy. So much life. From the Syrian border, where he’s serving in reserves, Eliyahu Libman sent a heartfelt blessing.
Mazal tov, Nachman and Daniella. You’re answering the question more powerfully than words ever could.
Rebuilding the Beit Hamikdash: Between the Kitchen and the Living Room
It’s remarkable how our sages draw a parallel between the Beit Hamikdash and our own homes. Since the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash, the Shechinah has found a dwelling place in our synagogues—our mikdash me’at (small sanctuaries)—in yeshivot and Torah centers, and also, within the walls of our homes. Between the kitchen and the living room, holiness resides.
After having marked the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash through fasting and prayer on Tisha B’Av, we enter one of the most challenging times for our “private temples”: the month of August, the height of summer vacation.
Our sages teach that the home is the place where we are truly built. It is here—in the relationships between children and parents, and between spouses—that our character is forged. Judaism calls this avodat hamidot—the work of refining our character. This doesn’t happen in Instagram stories or through likes from strangers, but in the daily interactions with the people closest to us.
Through every action in the home, even the smallest tasks, we can remember: this is where God has placed us, and this is our greatest mission for now.
May we, with God’s help, merit to see blessing in the coming month as we continue building our private temples.
Parashat Va’etchanan: If Not Now, When?
When I was a young child and would push off doing something until “later,” my mother would gently remind me, “Later means tomorrow.” Most of us are familiar with the tendency to procrastinate—first until later today, then until tomorrow, and, if possible, the day after that.
In this week’s parashah, we see a striking example of the opposite. Even at the very end of his life, Moshe remained vigorous, purposeful, and determined not to postpone what could be done immediately.
The Torah tells us: “Then Moshe separated three cities beyond the Jordan.” These were the arei miklat, cities of refuge—places where someone who accidentally killed another person could flee for protection. Yet the commandment to establish them would not actually take effect until Bnei Yisrael completed the conquest of the Land of Israel and added three more cities on the western side of the Jordan.
Moshe knew he would never enter the Land himself. Still, he took the initiative to designate the first three cities without delay.
Rashi asks why Moshe acted so promptly and gives a simple, timeless answer: “Moshe said: ‘If there is a commandment that can be fulfilled – I will fulfill it.’” In other words: If not now, when? If I can do something good here and now, even if it is only half the commandment, why should I wait?