In Nova, Let There Be Light

Rabbi Aryeh Cohen stood at the sacred gathering at the Nova Festival site in January, 2024, surrounded by survivors, soldiers fresh out of Gaza, and families of those killed. The weight of tragedy was thick in the air, but so was something else—something unbreakable.

They were gathered to do something unprecedented: write a new Torah scroll at the very place where so many lives had been lost, transforming a site of horror into a holy place.

Each letter was inscribed by a certified scribe with profound intent. The Torah scroll would commemorate the life of Major Ido Yehoshua, the commander of an elite Shaldag (IAF Special Forces) unit who fell on October 7th. He and his men eliminated many terrorists before falling in battle, and he had told his men that this was a historic opportunity to protect the homeland.

Major Ido Yehoshua

Even though Major Yehoshua was the primary reason the Torah scroll was written, Rabbi Shmuel Herman, the man behind the project, allowed various phrases to be dedicated by those who had lost loved ones, those who had survived, those who had fought, and those who simply cared enough to visit. The Torah scroll, which would be written from start to finish at the Nova site over many months, was their declaration: Darkness would not have the final word.

As Rabbi Aryeh walked through the gathering, he joined up the line near the scribe and saw a young woman standing right before him, awaiting her turn to dedicate a Torah phrase. She appeared very sad. The project was brand new, so they were still writing the first chapter of Genesis. After a few minutes, the scribe was ready for her to dedicate the very next phrase he was about to write. After she sat down, he smiled at the woman, and said, “Ok, your phrase is Yehi Or, ‘Let there be light’.”

She froze and her breath caught in her throat. Tears streamed down her face. Her pain was raw, almost unbearable to witness. Rabbi Aryeh asked her if she was ok.

The woman took a breath, steadying herself. “I lost my best friend at Nova,” she whispered. “The last communication I had from her was a birthday card and the last words she wrote to me were “Yehi Or – let there be Light”, which I took to mean ‘Stay positive. Bring light into the world’. After she was killed, I had this necklace made. I wear it all the time.”

She was holding a necklace in her hands, gripping it tightly. Rabbi Aryeh saw the engraving: Yehi Or—Let there be light.

The words she had carried over her heart, the words she had clung to in the darkness ever since that final fateful birthday card, were now the words she was being given to dedicate in the new Torah scroll.

Rabbi Aryeh was visibly moved. “This is not a coincidence,” he told the woman. “God is speaking to you.”

At that moment, the entire gathering seemed to pause. Survivors, soldiers, mourning families—all watching as light emerged from darkness in the most literal sense. The same words uttered at the beginning of creation, Yehi Or, were now being written into a Torah scroll in the very place where the world had seemed to break apart.

Rabbi Aryeh, left, with the scribe at the Nova site

Tohu vavohu v’choshech—formlessness, void, and darkness—had descended upon this place months before. But now the words of God, spoken at the dawn of time, were being reaffirmed: Yehi Or – Let there be light. The light of resilience, purpose and life.