Ten Years Later: Reflections on Rabbi Nechemia Lavi’s Final Act of Courage

It is late at night in the Lavi home, yet the house is still full of life. Neta Lavi speaks calmly after a long, full day. A mother of seven and an educator, she has been raising her family on her own for the past decade, ever since her husband, Rabbi Nechemia Lavi hy"d, was murdered before her eyes.

On Yom HaZikaron, we often think about those who were lost. But just as important are the lives they lived, the values they embodied, and the families who continue to carry their light forward.

Rabbi Nechemia Lavi hy"d during a military rabbinate training course

The Night Everything Changed

It was Shabbat Chol HaMoed Sukkot, during a time of heightened terror attacks. The third Shabbat meal had ended, and Rabbi Nechemia stepped down toward the sukkah when he suddenly heard desperate screams from outside.

At first, it did not seem unusual. Living above the Arab market in Jerusalem’s Old City, loud voices were part of daily life. But this time, something felt different. When one of the daughters said it sounded like a Jewish woman, Rabbi Nechemia did not hesitate. He ran outside.

The cries came from a woman who had just been attacked along with her husband and young children. As she fled to get help, she saw Rabbi Nechemia and understood that someone was there to step in. That gave her the strength to keep running.

Military rabbinate course graduation, six weeks before he was killed

Acting Without Hesitation

Security footage later showed Rabbi Nechemia approaching the wounded family, scanning the scene and moving toward them. At that moment, the terrorist, who had been hiding nearby, lunged at him.

A fierce struggle began.

Even after being severely wounded, Rabbi Nechemia did not let go. He continued fighting, refusing to give in.

Neta, noticing the delay, went outside. What she saw changed everything. “I saw Nechemia struggling with the terrorist, and I understood immediately what was happening,” she recalls. She called out his name again and again, feeling that each call gave him strength to continue.

Despite the danger, she could not leave. “Even if something would happen to me, I felt I had to stay. I couldn’t leave him.”

At one point, the attacker turned the rabbi’s weapon toward her. At that exact moment, security forces arrived and neutralized the threat.

An hour later, Neta was called to the hospital, where she received the devastating news. Her husband had been killed.

A Life of Giving

Rabbi Nechemia Lavi’s life was defined by giving. Neta describes him as someone whose entire being was directed outward, toward others, toward the Jewish people.

From a young age, he lived with a deep sense of purpose. After deadly terror attacks on a Jerusalem bus line, he and a friend chose to ride that same route, holding an Israeli flag. Not as a protest, but as a statement: we are not afraid.

As a father, he was devoted and present. He saw raising his children as a mission, investing deeply in their growth, both spiritually and emotionally. At the same time, he brought joy into the home, dancing with his children, playing, laughing, and creating moments of simple happiness.

Rabbi Nechemia with his students

An Educator for All

Education was central to who he was. He taught children of all ages, from preschool to advanced students, always with patience and kindness.

“He never raised his voice,” Neta recalls. “Even with the most challenging students, he spoke gently.”

Students were often invited to their home for Shabbat. Some stayed longer, especially those who had no support system. One young man, who had immigrated alone and struggled to trust others, slowly became part of their family. Years later, he is married with children and remains connected to them.

Rabbi Nechemia saw potential where others might not. He gave not only knowledge, but a sense of belonging.

Living With Loss

After his passing, Neta was left to raise seven children, all under the age of fourteen.

“The day after the shiva,” she says, “was a sadness you can’t describe. You can’t think ahead. You don’t know what tomorrow looks like.”

What gave her strength?

“A deep understanding that nothing is random,” she explains. “That everything is guided. That gave me the ability to stand up and continue.”

Alongside that faith was a simple, powerful responsibility. The children needed her, and that alone pushed her forward.

Rabbi Nechemia with his parents at the military course graduation

Questions That Don’t Go Away

The loss brought difficult questions, especially for the children. One daughter struggled to understand how something so painful could happen, especially after a time filled with mitzvot and spiritual growth.

It was only when a Torah scholar explained that sometimes the passing of the righteous serves a greater purpose, an elevation rather than a loss, that she found some sense of peace.

The Essence of Who He Was

When asked whether she would have stopped him from going out that night, knowing what would happen, Neta answers honestly.

“There may have been moments when I would have said yes,” she admits. “But in truth, no. That was who he was. If I married him, I married someone who runs to help. I couldn’t ask him to be anything else.”

A Presence That Remains

Over the years, Neta has married off several of her children and has become a grandmother. At those moments, the absence is deeply felt, but so is a different kind of presence.

“I feel he is with us,” she says. “Not physically, but in a deeper way.”

She holds on to the belief that the bond between them did not end, that it continues in ways we cannot always see.

Yom HaZikaron: A Shared Memory

For Neta, Yom HaZikaron is not the only day of remembrance. The absence is present every day.

And yet, when the day arrives, something shifts.

“People reach out,” she says. “You feel that you are not alone. There is a shared connection, a shared memory. And that gives strength.”

On this day, as a nation remembers, stories like Rabbi Nechemia Lavi’s remind us not only of loss, but of the lives behind it. Lives of courage, kindness, and quiet dedication.

And of families who continue to carry that light forward.