Moshe Katz Was Everyone’s Favorite

By Maya Zeff

I had the profound honor of serving as one of the commanders of the army preparation program of Sergeant Moshe Yitzchak Katz, z”l. In that time, we taught Moshe Ulpan (Hebrew), helped prepare him for his service to Am Yisrael, and guided him toward entering training for the Paratroopers Unit 890 in which he served.

There is so much we can learn from Moshe z”l, especially as we prepare for Pesach.

At Yetziat Mitzrayim, we became a free nation. We broke free and left Egypt and slavery behind. But Yetziat Mitzrayim wasn’t just about leaving something, it was about becoming something.

Bnei Yisrael didn’t merely escape physical bondage; they stepped into responsibility, into identity, into a mission far greater than themselves.

And this year, that message feels different.

We read about Yetziat Mitzrayim and imagine open miracles: the ten plagues, the sea splitting, the revelation of Hashem’s power through undeniable Nissim. But Geulah, true freedom, is not only found in the extraordinary. It is not only what we see with our own eyes.

Sometimes, real Geulah is much quieter, and much harder.

It looks like choosing a purpose.
Choosing to serve others.
Choosing to show up every single day with strength and with Simcha, even when life is not simple.

And trying to do it all with a smile, even if, at times, you have to push yourself to find it.

Moshe Katz z’l was everyone’s favorite.

He didn’t even need to be in the room, people lit up when his name was mentioned. He could make anyone laugh without effort. He didn’t live for approval; he lived with authenticity. He was genuine, real, and never pretended to be something he wasn’t.

And he had the most contagious grin, all. the. time.

Moshe z”l embodied Geulah. Not the dramatic kind, but the lived kind, the daily choice to step up, to take on responsibility and purpose, to show up B’simcha.

He left his home in Connecticut behind to serve something greater than himself, not because it was easy, but because it mattered. That journey reflects the very transition from Mitzrayim to Har Sinai: from “What do I need?” to “What am I here for?”

The Haggadah teaches:
בכל דור ודור חייב אדם לראות את עצמו כאילו הוא יצא ממצרים
“In every generation, a person is obligated to see themselves as if they personally left Egypt.”

This year, perhaps that means asking a deeper question:
What does it mean to live like someone who is truly free?

Because freedom is not simply the ability to do whatever we want.
Freedom is the clarity to know what truly matters, and the strength to live by those values no matter what.

Moshe had that clarity.

He gave fully. He uplifted those around him. He chose joy even in difficulty. I remember once, during a silent Hakpatza (training simulation), he broke into a silly march just to lift everyone’s spirits. It worked instantly.

That wasn’t just personality. That was Pnimiyut, a deep inner awareness of who he was and why he was here.

And perhaps that is the real Avodah of Pesach: not only to remember that we were freed, but to live in a way that proves it.

To be people who bring light into dark places.
Who show up for others without expecting anything in return.
Who stay true to ourselves.
Who choose meaning over comfort.

The Rebbe taught that true freedom is the ability to transcend one’s limitations and circumstances, to live in alignment with one’s Divine purpose. A person can be physically free, yet internally constrained; and conversely, one who lives with purpose and connection to Hashem is truly free, regardless of external challenges.

Moshe didn’t just remember leaving Mitzrayim, he lived each day as someone who had left Mitzrayim. As someone who consciously chose to be free.

As we sit at the Seder and speak about Geulah, perhaps we can ask ourselves:
What would it look like for us to live that way too?

What small, real actions can we take to live more intentionally?
To bring more simcha into our Avodah?
To show up more fully for the people around us?

Moshe will be missed more than words can say. He was a true friend, a brother. He meant so much to so many.

In Moshe’s memory, this Pesach can become more than remembrance: it can become a commitment. A commitment to live with strength. With joy. With purpose.

May we carry his light with us.
May we build a world filled with more meaning, more strength, and more Simcha.
And may we merit to see the Geula Shlema Bimhera B’Yameinu.

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Support the Katz family at raisethon.com/mosheyitzchak