The Torah portion this week, Parashat Vayeira, is heavy. It presents us with profound tests of faith: the promise of Isaac, the destruction of Sodom, and, most painfully, the Akedah, the binding of Isaac. These narratives compel us to grapple with the nature of our covenant and the challenging path of Jewish leadership.
The emotional weight of these last two years, a time where I have struggled to find the right words, is tied directly to the profound tension embedded in this parashah: the tension between joyful presence and unbearable absence. This week’s events, specifically the return of Omer, tragically help bring this tension into painful focus.
I first became acquainted with Omer when he served as METNY President. Even now, several years later, I vividly remember his contagious smile and the excitement and passion he brought to every room. He had that unique quality of leadership: an ability to literally light up the room just by walking in, inspiring others to follow and lead alongside him.
His bright, inspiring presence is the first reality. The second is the darkness of his kidnapping on October 7th.
Our tradition requires us to be leaders of two realities. In this portion, Abraham is visited by God’s joyous promise of a son, only to be immediately thrust into a desperate negotiation over the fate of Sodom. He had to pivot instantly from hope to hardship.
This ability to be fully present, to show up and hold these dual realities, is the definition of leadership in this parashah. Abraham, when called by God, answers with a single word: “Hineni”—”Here I am.” It is the response of a leader who is available, committed, and ready to face the known and the unknown. This commitment to presence is the essence of Omer’s leadership, and it became my own personal challenge.
My own test came just a week after October 7, on my birthday. Learning that Omer and I shared that day, just seven days after the atrocities and the day he was kidnapped, made celebration feel impossible. My instinct was to cancel everything. It took a friend literally dragging me out and reminding me of a core truth we must embrace: we must still find joy, even while holding the pain, fear, and uncertainty of tragedy in our hearts.
For two years, we, and especially Omer’s family, lived in the terrible void of his absence. After learning about Omer’s death this past December, our birthday became a day of mourning the life that “should have been…” rather than celebrating the life that was turning another year older.
Our birthday fell on Shemini Atzeret this year, Z’man Simchateinu—our Season of Joy. I struggled to balance the joy of the return of the 20 living hostages with the anguish felt by the families of the deceased hostages. I made the decision to stay for Yizkor, a service I usually step out for. This was my personal act of choosing presence in the face of despair, a way to publicly give my Hineni to Omer’s memory when his body was still held captive. It was a commitment to the communal duty of remembrance.
Just a few days ago, after 758 agonizing days, Omer was returned. The reminder that he was in a coffin, and not greeted by a family embrace, devastates us all. Yet, there is a tragic sense of relief: the Neutra family can now provide a proper burial, truly begin their mourning process, and move toward healing.
As leaders, we often talk about Tikkun Olam, repairing the world. Omer’s story reminds us that our work is often about repairing the unseen things: repairing communal spirit, repairing a void, and providing the framework for our community members to move forward through tragedy.
We honor Omer’s memory, his contagious light, and his passion for Israel and USY, not just by remembering him, but by embracing that essential mandate of leadership: to be present. To say Hineni to the challenge of finding joy amid sorrow, to the hard work of collaboration, and to the continuous effort of building the vibrant Jewish future Omer believed in.
May the memory of Omer Neutra be a blessing, and may we all find the strength to lead with the same passion and presence he modeled for us.
