Like many of you, I am sure, I spent last weekend reading the terrible news about the six hostages killed, and especially Hersh Goldberg-Polin: our own, a Bay Area boy, who became a kind of avatar for the indiscriminate horror of October 7th. I watched videos of Israelis surging into the streets, the shock and fury, the helplessness of individual parents and loved ones trying with all the might in their small bodies to array themselves against the disinterested, disembodied state. I watched Rachel, Hersh’s mother, courageously stand in front of the world as she has over and over for eleven months and put her pain into words. One section of her eulogy really caught my ear: