Hearing that Rabbi Avi Goldberg was killed shook me up a bit more than usual, though I did not know him. Somehow, it’s different when you share the same last name, even if we’re not related.
Then I read he was a Judaic-studies principal—realizing that another teacher of Torah had been killed in this war was a punch in the gut.
Then I read he was a military rabbi. As reservists commonly alternate between multiple roles, I was sure that referred to a separate role of his in earlier reserve duty, but that he was killed while serving as a combat soldier. Chaplains and military rabbinate personnel stay behind enemy lines, providing support when soldiers are given a reprieve from active combat, right?
Wrong. It turns out that each battalion has a military rabbi go into active battle with them.
Despite having joined the IDF Rabbinate myself as a reservist this summer, I was clueless about this until Rav Goldberg fell. I did not know him; a personal tribute this is not, though a serendipitous one-on-one conversation with his father outside the shiva tent did offer me stories about Rav Goldberg as a kid. Others have painted poignant sketches of the endless, wonderful qualities of Rav Goldberg and his wife, Rachel. But I felt drawn to understand his role and share it with the world; after all, if I—a member of the IDF Rabbinate—didn’t realize it, surely many others didn’t either.
The story of Maj. Rabbi Avi Goldberg illustrates the evolution of the military rabbi’s role over the past decade. Military rabbis have become an inseparable part of combat battalions in Gaza and Lebanon. Many military rabbis in recent years are actually former combat soldiers who transitioned to rabbinical roles, understanding that those with combat experience would better serve alongside fighters as staff officers.
Rav Goldberg wasn’t originally part of the Military Rabbinate. He served as a combat soldier for many years, both in regular service and the reserves. He continued volunteering for reserve duty even after he could have received an exemption following the birth of his sixth child.
At age 40, when he was due to be discharged from combat reserve duty, Rabbi Goldberg decided to attend the military rabbis’ course so that he could continue volunteering with reserve and combat units. Two years ago, he completed the course and was named its outstanding graduate. In the past year, he served more than 250 days in reserves across three different rotations, until he fell on the Shabbat immediately following Sukkot, during heroic battles in Lebanon.
What does a military rabbi do on the front lines? Not dissimilar to their roles on bases, he gives speeches of spiritual encouragement and is available to answer questions of Jewish law that arise suddenly. He also takes care that food distribution and other war-related issues are being handled in accordance with Jewish law to the greatest extent possible. All of this is under fire on a battlefield. These heroes are emissaries of every Israeli family who cares about the soldiers’ spiritual well-being.
An additional, crucial element of a battalion rabbi’s role is to handle the bodies of fallen soldiers in the field to ensure that they are treated with proper dignity and brought to Jewish burial as soon as possible. In this sense, the military rabbis become emissaries of the fallen soldiers’ families. Have you wondered—as I have—how it can be that a soldier is, God forbid, killed in the morning yet the funeral manages to take place already later that day? The presence of the battalion rabbi in the combat zone is part of the answer.
In all these missions, Rav Goldberg performed impressively throughout the long months of fighting. During his eulogy, IDF Chief Rabbi Brig. Gen. Eyal Karim said: “Throughout the war, you were there in body, soul and heart with the soldiers and alongside commanders, including in enemy territory, to strengthen their spirits, set a personal example, handle all rabbinical matters and, when needed, also to handle the fallen, exactly as you did that Shabbat afternoon.”
Rav Goldberg is the second casualty from the Military Rabbinate—and the first to fall in active combat—since the Israel-Hamas war began. It is a corps that has hardly experienced casualties since the Yom Kippur War. This is one of the unfortunate consequences of the corps’ soldiers and personnel becoming central figures in combat units.
The Military Rabbinate became known in the past year mainly for identifying and burying Oct. 7 victims and subsequent war casualties. Its soldiers—people who did everything to provide peace of mind to families and relatives—have demonstrated extraordinary professional capabilities and mental resilience. Now, they had to handle and bid farewell to one of their own, the very finest among them.