In June 2023, I stepped into the Goldberg-Polin home for a Shabbat dinner. I was a guest, both in their home and in Israel, traveling with a group of American Christian students from Passages. Though we were strangers, Jon and Rachel greeted us with warm enthusiasm and curious excitement before introducing us to their daughters Orly and Leebie. This simple act of hospitality left a profound impact I could not imagine then.
During our short time together, we told stories, asked questions, and shared the simple joys of Shabbat. It struck me that the whole family seemed to have a spirit of peace and generosity. Orly and Leebie even invited the students in our group to a youth gathering following dinner. At some point, Jon and Rachel told us about their son, Hersh. Sadly, I did not meet him because he was away that weekend, but I found his story captivating. Hersh was only seven years old when the Goldberg-Polin family emigrated to Israel from the United States. He was a young dual citizen who would turn 23 just days before Oct. 7. The Goldberg-Polin family told us a little about his dreams and adventures, and you could just tell that Hersh must have had a deep curiosity and a unique capacity for friendship and compassion too.
As I left that night, I said goodbye, hoping someday I might meet this impressive person. In the chaotic aftermath of Oct. 7, I did not immediately realize that Hersh had been taken hostage by Hamas. Only after Jon sent me a message did I realize the horrors facing the family. Later, I saw videos of Hersh’s kidnapping and watched stunned, hoping and praying he would survive after losing his arm to a grenade while trapped in a rocket shelter.
Like many people, I followed the story closely, grateful for every opportunity to hear Jon and Rachel speak about their son Hersh. Each time, I learned something new about Hersh, and I could start to imagine knowing him, maybe being friends. I also marveled at his grace and resilience.
Hersh’s family worked tirelessly to see him freed, with a strength difficult to comprehend. And yet, they continued to be kind and generous. They did not complain, at least publicly, when Hersh was not freed in the November 2023 hostage deal. Instead, they rejoiced with the families of freed hostages and continued to advocate for every person still held captive.
A couple of weeks ago, the Goldberg-Polin family’s fight to free Hersh reached a tragic conclusion. On August 31, the IDF made a shocking discovery in a tunnel hidden underneath a children’s play area in the Gaza Strip. Deep underground, the soldiers found six bodies, recently executed and showing signs of severe malnutrition, neglect, or even abuse. Before long news broke that Hersh was one of the six. In a cruel twist of irony, he died while a ceasefire deal for his release, among others, was being negotiated.
What can American Christians learn from the Goldberg-Polin family?
Though I could not attend, I watched Hersh’s funeral from afar and grieved for the family who had done everything right, only to be bitterly disappointed. The touching tributes to Hersh solidified two lessons for American Christians in my mind.
First, we should not underestimate the power of friendship and hospitality. Hersh lived his life determined to show empathy, hope, and friendship. His efforts were rewarded with cruel and unusual suffering, but even the latest propaganda video from Hamas does little to suggest he lost hope or gave in. Listening to the Goldberg-Polin family speak at the funeral too, and despite the mask of pain, I could see and hear glimpses of the family who graciously invited me into their home last year.
Historically, the relationship between Jews and Christians has been difficult, with an understandable fear from the Jewish side due to centuries of persecution. Only recently has the tide shifted enough that sharing a Shabbat meal together would even be an option. In Hersh, and in the rest of his family, I believe we can derive inspiration. In my brief encounters, I can confidently say that the Goldberg-Polin family has embodied the courage and openness required to heal old wounds and mend bridges. May we, as Christians, be quick to extend our hand of friendship to them and any other Jewish brothers and sisters willing to do the same. Second, even at his funeral, the Goldberg-Polin family demonstrated that they held Hersh’s life with gratitude and open hands. They took the opportunity to selflessly spotlight not only their own suffering, but also that of the remaining hostages and their families. Those of us who do not know such pain should take note. How much more should we remain focused and committed to advocating for those still in need? And for justice to be done? The strength of Hersh and his family compels us all. May his memory be a blessing. The writer is the resident scholar at Passages, a Christian organization dedicated to taking Christian students to Israel and mobilizing young people to support the Jewish state on campuses and in communities across the US, and to stand up against antisemitism.