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December 03, 2008

Two Funerals and a Wedding: Remembering Gavriel & Rivka Holtzberg ZT'L

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Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg. Photo: Chabad.org

Introduction

Batya Rotter, the daughter of our friends Dr. Arnie and Leah Rotter, spent a good deal of time in Mumbai. Naturally, as a young Othodox Jewish woman in a land where Jews are as rare as the Dodo Bird, Batya was drawn to the Chabad House where she, an extraordinary young woman in her own right, developed a profound and nurturing relationship with Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg ZT'L.

Here, Batya reflects on the shining values and personalities of the martyred couple. And Batya marvels at the personal sacrifice of lives joyously given in service to HaShem and to the Indian Jewish community.

In an irony that one might only imagine from the pen of a screenwriter, Batya grapples with warring emotions as she internalizes the atrocity and suffers spiritual whiplash as Yael, her beloved sister, stands under the chuppah, the wedding canopy, at almost the exact same moment as the details of the atrocity become known. RJA

Dreaming of Beit Chabad in Mumbai

I couldn't sleep tonight, in pain from the events of this past week. I wanted to write to remember Rabbi Gabi and Rivki Holzberg Z''L, who were murdered in Mumbai; they were two of the finest people I know.

Tonight I dreamed I went to the Beit Chabad in Mumbai. Passing the vendors on the street, and the sounds of the flour mill across the alleyway, I walked into the main floor and smelled the aromas of freshly made chumus and matbucha. The Chabad house in Mumbai was a Jewish oasis where there was always air conditioning, a smile, and a freshly cooked meal. It was a beautiful Chabad house, and it was run by the most beautiful people. I start to think of Rivki—and then, I start to cry.

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Rivka Holtzberg cuts the ribbon for the new mikvah,
ritual bath, in Mumbai. Photo: Chabad.org.

I see Rivki's face, and even her thick glasses can't hide the glowing happiness in her eyes. From the bump on her stomach you can see that she is expecting, and after losing one child to illness and another to severe congenital defects, you see her stomach and want to smile too. She is the embodiment of hope and faith. When you sit on the couch in the main room, she brings you some chocolate cake and wants to know how you are doing. And while you vent about your trials from the week, she has somehow managed to take you away from the streets of Mumbai to another place entirely.

I remember at first being surprised to learn that Rivki was only three years older than me. She had a clarity of purpose and a purity of faith that you do not find often. While there are times when I think of her as a friend, there are also times when that title seems too commonplace. She is more than a friend—she is a role model, a vision of fortitude and courage, and a soul too precious for this world.

Building a Home for Others

I honestly don't know how Gabi and Rivki built the Chabad house from nothing, and how they brought the taste of a Jewish traditional home to the crazy streets of Mumbai, putting their own personal pain aside to build a home for others. They managed to make a wedding for a traveling couple who suddenly learned they were expecting a child, and court visits for Israelis stuck in jail for drug trafficking.

Every week, there was a beautiful Shabbat meal for anyone and everyone to join, and every night at 8pm, there was a free kosher dinner for anyone traveling and in need of soul food. I remember the excitement Rivki exhibited when she showed me the board on the wall that mapped the plans and financial progress of their new Chabad house. They had been operating out of two floors in the building, but had a dream to furnish and use the other five floors as a guest house, Jewish library, and child care center. You see, Gabi and Rivki had dreams—not to live in a quiet house near their families, but to build where Jews could be Jewish in India.

The Wedding and The Murders

I found out that Mumbai was burning on Thursday morning—Thanksgiving morning—the same morning that I woke up in Israel to go with my sister to the Kotel, the Western Wall, on her wedding day. I read the headlines, and then I read about the Chabad House. My sister, the bride, not knowing that any of this had taken place, had a glowing happiness in her eyes, while I was feeling something akin to an out-of- body experience. We made it to the Kotel, where I went off to the side to call Antony, my boss from India, who confirmed that the situation did not look good. The home where I was a frequent visitor, where I got my chickens to make chicken soup, and where I would eat chocolate cake and talk with Rivki, was being held by terrorists. TERRORISTS!


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The floor of the Mumbai Chabad Study Hall is washed in
Jewish blood. Israel news photo: Gur Ari, Zaka.

I thought about Gabi, and I thought about Rivki—and that is when I lost it.

Brides and Grooms in The Courtyards of Jerusalem

How does one deal with a wedding and a terrorist attack on the same day—both so close to home? I'm looking back at the last couple of days, and I still don't believe that any of this is not a dream. While my sister and her husband began a journey of love and commitment, the couple who knew a love and a commitment to a calling beyond themselves were under attack.

And while Yael Rotter and Jon Mosery stood under the Chuppah overlooking the hills of Jerusalem, Rabbi Gavriel Hotlzberg looked at carnage as he covered his beloved Rivka in a tallit, a prayer shawl, before joining her in, what I must force myself to believe is, a better place.

I only hope that just as in the heart of their wedding joy, Yael and John broke a glass to remember destruction and suffering, that somehow, amidst the pain of shattered dreams, Gabi and Rivki found a way to feel some joy that their healthy Moishe survived.

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Moishe Tzvi Holtzberg in the arms of Sandra Samuel, the courageous nanny who rescued Gavriel and Rivka's son from the death dealing Islamo Nazis. Together with grandparents Yehudit and Shimon Rosenberg they are pictured waiting at the Mumbai airport for a flight to Israel.

To all my Mumbai family, all of whom felt the surrogate parenting of Gabi and Rivki, I am sending hugs and love, even though my heart is a little broken. And to all of you reading this email, I ask that you do something good—something so kind, so good, and so loving, that it can, in some way, make the world hurt less. Because little Moishe should not know the hate-filled world in which his parents were murdered. And because our broken hearts and the courtyards of Jerusalem should only be filled with voices of joy and happiness, voices of brides and grooms.

Baruch Dayan Haemet.

May their memory be blessed

Batya Rotter


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In Israel, the levaya, funeral procession, for the martyrs Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg, May Their Blood be Avenged.


Mumbai Chabad Tribute Page

Posted by Robert J. Avrech at December 3, 2008 04:25 AM

Comments

Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.

1. No profanity.

2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism.

That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.

My parents were visiting my brother in Israel when the attacks occurred and may father was able to make it to the part of the funeral in Jerusalem. Dealing with this is shattering for the Jewish people. May their memories be blessed and their blood avenged.

Posted by: Jewboy at December 3, 2008 08:13 AM

One thought keeps chasing around my head:
thank goodness that little boy was saved, and that he's too young to read the internet.

How can people know this is happening, see it, and not wish to fight the monsters?

Posted by: Foxfier at December 3, 2008 11:42 AM

My heart is broken for their families, and for that little boy.

May the blood of these cherished ones be avenged. May we all have the clarity to see and the strength to fight the monsters that threaten us all.

Posted by: DrCarol at December 3, 2008 03:28 PM

Last night I attended the Tribute service as San Francisco's JCC, It was a powerful and focused event, with over a dozen speakers, including several key Bay Area Jewish activists who had stayed with the Holtzbergs in Mumbai.

Frankly, I was a little wary, concerned that it might be politicized in a way that cramped the gathering's swelling spirit. The bigness of the Jewish community in SF, and of the entire Chabad movement (one rabbi called it "an army"), filled the auditorium. One speaker called on their blood to be avenged. Another emphasized that the Jews of Mumbai had been "selected," not unlike the Jews under the Third Reich having been selected.

Posted by: Jeremiah at December 3, 2008 04:27 PM

Your readers might want to check out this video compiled about the couple:

http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/779348/jewish/Love-Means-Love.htm

Posted by: Pearl at December 3, 2008 06:06 PM

Thanks for sharing this Robert.

Posted by: FrumFeminist at December 4, 2008 11:27 PM

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