| Friends,
It is dark in the depths of winter. We have just begun the secular new year, 2026. I want to take us back a couple of weeks to the first night of Chanukah. Many hours before Chanukah began in Eastern Connecticut, the Jewish community of Sydney, Australia, was celebrating at Bondi Beach. The celebration was turned deadly by two gunmen, allegedly associated with and inspired by ISIS. Fifteen people were killed, and forty were injured. This attack isn’t isolated. It is part of rising antisemitism in Australia, around the world, and here in the United States. We are not wrong when we feel anxiety here in the wake of Sydney. It is not that long ago that we witnessed the firebombing attack in Boulder, Colorado. It is also not that long ago that two Israeli embassy employees were gunned down in Washington, DC. These incidents form a pattern we cannot ignore. And it seems impossible to separate these violent acts from the normalization of the rising tide of white supremacy and neo-Nazi ideology, as evidenced recently and repeatedly by the tacit support, willing blindness, or professed ignorance of the likes of Nick Fuentes, who outrageously stated his admiration for Adolf Hitler. He is not alone. It seems implausible—and inexcusable—that government officials, civic leaders, and elite intellectuals claim ignorance of this rising tide and those who enable it. We are living in dark times. Yet, we are not powerless. Let’s travel back again in time to the first night of Chanukah. This time to the Social Hall right here at Temple Emanu-El. Many of you were part of a nearly standing room only crowd gathered for the annual Brotherhood Latke and Brisket Chanukah dinner. Though I was home recovering from Covid, I was thrilled to hear that 136 people attended the dinner and witnessed the first light of the festival illuminated on our historic Chanukiah. In the ten years that I have been rabbi at Temple Emanu-El, we have consistently had high attendance at these dinners, but I think I am safe saying that 136 is the highest attendance of these ten years. For many of you, the dinner is a social gathering, but it is symbolic of much more, just as the light of the Chanukiah is symbolic of much more than the festival. The light of the Chanukiah represents our willingness to fight when necessary for our right to freely practice our religion and be openly and unapologetically Jewish in our communities, free of antisemitism. But more important than our willingness to fight is our willingness to carry the light of Torah in all the places we interact in our communities, at home, at work, and in civic life. When we gather here for Chanukah, we connect our community to every other Jewish community in our nation and around the world. We sense our power and resilience as a people and are energized. Although we have all put away our Chanukiot, the light remains in us, to be spread by us. We are the carriers of the light of Torah, the light that continually grows and beats back ignorance, hatred, and racism. With the light, we partner with others to uplift the American principles of liberty, justice, and democracy that protect us all. We carry the light to guide us through these dark times. L’shalom, Rabbi Marc |
