Light a Flame

Opening my phone after Yom Tov made me sick to my stomach. It was October 7 on the first day of Sukkos and so when I opened my phone and scrolled through social media, I was confronted with videos commemorating the horrific, barbaric atrocities of that day and the stories of survivors who lived through the unimaginable.

But what shook me even more was what happened here, in Australia.
While the Jewish community went to Shule, davened, rejoiced in the Yom Tov, and some joined heartfelt vigils at 6:29 a.m, remembering the atrocities, praying for the hostages, and davening together in unity; pro-Palestinian activists and Islamist groups held events that openly celebrated the October 7 attacks.

They claimed the massacre was “justified,” compared Israel to the Nazis (what an insult to injury), and spewed hateful, venomous rhetoric without consequence.
It made me want to vomit, and made me question, is this the new Australia?

But then I remembered a positive story I heard just this morning after Shule, one that happened to Rabbi Yitzchak Barber, and it brought me some comfort amidst these dark times. I hope it brings you some too.

Rabbi Barber had been planning to go to Crown Heights, Chabad’s headquarters, for the festival-filled month of Tishrei, starting from Rosh HaShanah. But at the last minute, he felt a gut instinct telling him to stay in Sydney. He wondered why.
Every day he searched for a reason.

Rabbi Yitzchak, a proud Chabad chassid who never shies away from who he is, went to the Apple Store in the city of Sydney. With his long beard and yarmulke, his Jewish identity was unmistakable. By hashgacha pratis (Divine Providence), he was served by a man with darker features, wearing a Magen David necklace proudly on display.

Slightly curious, Yitzchak asked him about his background.
The man replied, “Iraqi.”
“Oh,” said Yitzchak, “what kind of Iraqi?”
The man responded, “Chaldean Assyrian.”

“Well, if I may ask,” said Yitzchak, “why are you wearing a Star of David?”

The man smiled broadly and said, “Because I am a Jew. My grandmother was Jewish, my mother is Jewish, and I am Jewish. My grandmother was a Kurdish Jew from Northern Iraq and had to marry a Chaldean/Assyrian man in order to survive. In fact, my mother tongue is Aramaic, before I even learnt how to speak English!”

“Wow,” said Yitzchak, “have you ever put on tefillin?”

And so, right there outside the Apple Store on George Street, in the very heart of Sydney’s CBD, Rabbi Yitzchak Barber helped this man perform the mitzvah of tefillin for the first time, proudly bar mitzvahing a Jewish neshama. Both were overjoyed.

I can’t say for sure, but I have a feeling that perhaps the events of October 7 reignited something in this man, that spark, the pintele Yid (the Jewish soul within), yearning to reconnect. And what joy it must have brought him to meet another Jew and do a mitzvah, bringing light into the city of Sydney.

There is so much light in the world, even when the darkness feels heavy. We must do our best to focus on that light.

As the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, taught: “A little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness.”

So, try to channel your energy not into despair, but into action, by being a proud and empowered Jew. Wear your Jewish identity, whatever that looks like for you, proudly and unapologetically.

With so much sadness around us, now is precisely the time to stand even louder and prouder. What a chassid Rabbi Barber is, having his tefillin on hand and ready to ignite a Jewish soul in the middle of the city.

Some might say, “It’s not a big deal, we do this every day.” But I’ll tell you, it is a big deal. Because reigniting a Jewish soul is just the beginning, who knows where it will lead?

So take inspiration from this story. On Chol HaMoed Sukkot, take your lulav and etrog with you. Ask people if they’re Jewish, if they’d like to do the mitzvah and shake. It takes less than 20 seconds, and it’s for everyone – men and women, all ages. What a magnificent way to spread light.

And if you ever feel afraid or embarrassed, remember this: if those who spread hate can do so openly and loudly, then we, the Jewish people, can certainly stand tall and proud, spreading goodness, kindness, and holiness in the world, making it a brighter and better place for all.

OKAY: Now, if you thought the article was over, well, it was supposed to be, but it isn’t. You see, as soon as I wrote this after Chag, I sent it over to Rabbi Barber to make sure everything was correct. That’s when he sent over the picture.

As soon as the image loaded, I texted excitedly, “Omg, I know that man, he is my friend James!” Rabbi Barber immediately called me. As we spoke, I could hear all the chaos in the background, since he is packing to go to New York tomorrow for the rest of Sukkot. You see, Rabbi Barber felt that he had fulfilled his purpose of staying here, and now could join his friends and family in New York for the rest of the festival. Yes – he stayed in Australia just to put tefillin on James!!!

I explained to Rabbi Barber that James and I had participated together in a brilliant antisemitism conference, spearheaded by Project Shema and the Australian Jewish Funders, in Melbourne late last year. I couldn’t believe it, my world’s colliding! What Divine Providence that, out of everyone in Shule, I heard this story and was able to write about it!

I immediately messaged James, first to make sure he was okay with the article being published, and second to confirm all the details. James, one of the kindest neshamas you could meet, a true mensch, told me he had only realized he was halachically Jewish in February 2025. He responded, “I’d love for my story to inspire others,” and shared what an amazing person Rabbi Barber is!

What a small world and such a full circle moment! Yet again another reason to stand proud, empowered, and bring light wherever we go! Chag Sukkot Sameach!