Roar like Kfir and Ariel - The Jewish Standard

In some ways, it feels like October 7 all over again. The brutal murder of Kfir and Ariel, the adorable Bibas children, has deeply impacted us all. The image of their abduction, with their mother holding them and trying to shield them from the evil monsters dragging them into Gaza, will forever be etched in our memories.

I want to share the sermon I delivered this past Shabbat at our Chabad:

Shabbat is a day of rest and joy. On this day, we are not supposed to show any signs of mourning, but today we cannot stop thinking about the Bibas children. While mourning is forbidden, we can still follow King Solomon’s teaching: “May the living take to heart” and learn from these precious souls.

Shiri and Yarden, may he live and be well, were intentional in choosing their children’s names. Both Kfir and Ariel mean “lion.”

The lion is a powerful symbol in Judaism. Many animals are mentioned in the Torah, including the snake, donkey, and horse, but the lion appears the most, more than 150 times. It has six different Hebrew names, including Kfir and Ari. Ariel means “the lion of G-d.”

Lions often appear in synagogues on the parochet, the curtain covering the ark. The lion holds deep significance in Judaism.

It is also a symbol of blessing. When Jacob blesses his son Judah and bestows the kingship on him, he calls him a lion cub. When Balaam tries to curse the Jewish people but ends up blessing them, he also invokes the lion.

What makes the lion so revered? It is not the smartest, fastest, or biggest animal. Other creatures surpass it in intelligence, speed, and size. Yet the lion is daring, full of energy, and unstoppable. It is fearless, taking on prey many times its size.

It is not just about physical strength. It is about attitude.

The Jewish people are much like the lion. We make up just 0.2 percent of the world’s population, yet our impact far exceeds our numbers. You see it in the list of Nobel Prize winners and in Jewish contributions across industries. And just like the lion, it is not because we are the smartest, fastest, or strongest. It is because of our mindset.

As a small nation, we could have settled for a quiet existence, simply grateful to be alive. Yet we constantly feel the urge to invent, create, and influence.

I believe this drive comes from something deeper. It is not about science, medicine, or financial success. It is rooted in the mission G-d gave us at Mount Sinai to be a light to the nations. We were tasked not just with caring for ourselves but with elevating the world and ensuring it fulfills its divine purpose.

Today we think of our dear little lions, Kfir and Ariel. They are gone, so now, more than ever, we must be lions. We must embody the lion spirit, unstoppable, full of energy and courage, and ready to take on challenges no matter how impossible they seem.

Rashi explains why the Jewish people are compared to lions:

“When they awaken from their sleep in the morning, they show the vigor of a lion in grasping mitzvot — rushing to don a tallit, recite Shema, and put on tefillin.”

To be a lion means showing up with energy in our Jewish lives. When you put on tefillin, don’t rush through it. Feel the connection to G-d. When you pray, do it with your whole heart, maybe even add a Jewish tune to your prayers. Toss a coin in the tzedakah box before you light those Shabbat candles. A lion doesn’t hold back, and neither should we. More joy. More strength. More life. That’s how we honor Kfir and Ariel’s memory — by bringing that lion energy to everything we do as Jews.

The Talmud states that three times every night, “G-d sits and roars like a lion and says, ‘Woe to Me, that due to their sins I destroyed My house, burned My Temple, and exiled them among the nations of the world.’”

May G-d’s roar finally break the walls of our spiritual exile, and may we merit the coming of Moshiach, when we will be reunited with our loved ones, including Kfir, Ariel, Shiri, and all those we have tragically lost. Amen.

Mendy Kaminker is the rabbi of Chabad of Hackensack and an editorial member of Chabad.org. He welcomes your comments at rabbi@ChabadHackensack.com

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