In a Year of Darkness, We Choose to Light the Way
As this difficult year ends, I am both shocked and saddened. Antisemitism has surged to levels unseen since the Holocaust. Hatred of Jews and Israel has not simply returned; it has become disturbingly routine, echoing a darkness we vowed never to allow again.
Across continents, on campuses, and in civic institutions, the ground shifted beneath us. We faced a year of fear, heartbreak, and disbelief. Yet we also witnessed fierce resilience, renewed pride, and acts of courage that defied the darkness.
As Hanukkah approaches, I see a parallel: a small flame that endures against all odds, refusing to be extinguished and insisting on being seen.
This is not only a metaphor. It is the Jewish story itself, and once again, it is our decision to make.
A Year That Tested the Soul of the Jewish People
This was the year antisemitism stopped hiding. It showed itself openly and without shame. Jewish students were driven from campuses. Synagogues had to increase security. City councils called Israel a genocidal state. Public figures denied Israel’s right to exist. Allies who once claimed to support every marginalized group made an exception for Jews. And in one American city, voters were asked on an official ballot whether the Jewish state should be treated as a pariah. The shock was not just the rise in hatred, but how quickly it became accepted. For many, it felt as if the belief that Jews had finally found safety and belonging in the modern world was suddenly shattered.
The Voices of Those Who Survived the Unthinkable
In this darkness, I have listened to former Israeli hostages describe their captivity. What stands out is not only their pain, but their resilience in the face of it.
They speak of terror that haunts their sleep. Torture that broke their bodies. Hunger that wore away hope. Loneliness so deep it nearly consumed them. Yet even in the depths of darkness, they held onto the faintest ember of humanity and refused to let go.
That small ember, fragile and nearly invisible, led them home.
It guides us now, too.
Hanukkah Arrives at the Right Moment
Hanukkah is not a holiday of denial. It is a holiday of defiance and determination.
It calls us to remember a time when Jews were forbidden to live as Jews in their own land, and a small group rose up to reclaim their identity.
It reminds us that after the Maccabees fought their way back into the Temple, they found only enough oil for one day, and they lit it anyway.
The miracle was not the oil. The real miracle was the decision to act, to light the flame. To declare: We will not allow darkness to prevail. The parallel to today is clear. We are living through a modern form of spiritual siege. We hear voices telling us to shrink, to apologize, or to disappear. Hanukkah answers simply: Light the candle regardless.
The Strength We Discovered in Ourselves
Despite a year filled with fear, something unbreakable rose within us. We are stronger than we believed, stronger than a world that doubted us could ever imagine. Jewish students found each other and formed protective circles. Parents taught their children to wear their Magen David necklaces proudly. Rabbis, educators, and leaders banded together to provide security and teach truth. College graduates returned to their campuses, not to hide, but to stand up for the next generation. Communities that had drifted apart remembered how to stand together. This year reminded us of something both essential and ancient: We are a people who refuse to disappear.
The Jewish Future Is Not Guaranteed, It Is Chosen
The work of Jewish Future Promise is rooted in a simple truth: the Jewish future depends on our choices. This year made that truth clear.
The antisemitism we witnessed was not only external. We saw younger Jews question Israel’s right to exist, struggle with identity, and sometimes accept the world’s denial of our story. This is not a failure of character. It is a failure of education, inheritance, and communal courage. We must recommit ourselves, deliberately and wholeheartedly, to teaching our children not only how to live Jewishly, but why it matters.
We must give them: the history; the language; the pride; the spiritual grounding and the legacy that antisemitism seeks to erase. Fear will not secure our future. Our future depends on love, knowledge, and action rooted in purpose.
Choosing Light for the Year Ahead
Even after a year of darkness, grief, and confusion, we are still here, holding onto the light. Not because it is easy, but because it is who we are.
This Hanukkah, we do not light candles out of habit.
- We light them out of determination.
- Out of memory.
- Out of unity.
- Out of love.
Most importantly, we light them because the world needs us: our presence, our conscience, and our commitment, now more than ever.
A Blessing for the New Year
May the coming year be one where our light grows stronger than our fear.
May we find courage in one another.
May our children inherit a Judaism filled with pride, meaning, and joy.
May the stories of survivors guide us toward compassion, clarity, and strength.
And may the small flame we kindle this Hanukkah light a new year, grounded in truth, resilience, purpose, and unwavering love.
No matter how powerful darkness seems, the Jewish people have always known this truth: A single flame can change everything.
