May the Lights bring Us Hope

Chanukah is here—a time to once again remember the story of Yehuda HaMaccabi and the enduring Jewish story of survival. It is a festival dedicated to commemorating a miracle from thousands of years ago, yet it reconnects us to the miracles we witness every day, to the hope we long for, and to the struggles of the present day. In moments like these, it can feel almost insignificant to reflect on an ancient story when we are grappling with the current times as a jewish nation.

But as the calendar turns to December and the Hallmark Christmas movies are screened on Netflix, Chanukah offers us something precious. It gives us the chance to come together for eight days with friends and loved ones, to share laughter and love, and to bring light to the world—a world often in desperate need of it. As families gather around their Christmas trees, Jewish families around the globe will proudly place their menorahs in windows. In light of the current antisemitism increasing around the world this act is more than a symbol of resilience; it is a declaration of pride in our identity and in the remarkable journey of our people. For me, however, the menorah’s light has come to symbolize something even deeper than resilience. It represents the sparks of hope and unity that continue to shine in unexpected places. This light is seen in the darkest corners of history and in the most surprising corporations of today. In this season of reflection, I am reminded not only of the miracle of the oil or Yehuda HaMaccabi’s improbable victory, but also of the countless other moments of light that have illuminated the Jewish journey. During the Holocaust, the lights of the menorah found their embodiment in the 28,217 Righteous Among the Nations and countless other individuals who risked everything to save Jewish lives. They were the beacons of humanity in a time of unimaginable darkness, reminding us that even in the darkest of moments the light blares and its shadow repels onwards.

Today, as I gaze into the menorah’s flames, I see not only our past but also our future—a future shaped by hope and the growing potential for unity. In recent years, this hope has been illuminated by the Abraham Accords, an achievement that many once thought impossible. I see this success of the Abraham accords on a daily basis through my work at Sharaka. Sharaka, whose name is “partnership” in Arabic—embodies its mission to foster people-to-people diplomacy in a region historically marked by division. These partnerships are the lights of our time, reminding us that even entrenched divides can be bridged when hearts and minds are open.

My first introduction to Sharaka was when I joined their delegation on March of the Living this past Yom Hashoah. I marched with people I would now call the hope we see reflected in the flames of the menorah, through the darkest place in recent history—Auschwitz. With each step, I regained a sense of hope and was reminded of the significance of always seeking beacons of light in even the most harrowing destinations. I was walking with individual rays of light , Muslims from the middle east who were part of the Sharaka delegation and who were committed to being educated about the Holocaust to ensure that the horrors of the past are never repeated. The lights of Chanukah have always represented the hope we need, both as a people and as a world. They remind us that miracles, both ancient and modern, are possible. When I light the menorah this year, I will think of the allies—both obvious and surprising—who stand with Israel and the Jewish people. I will think of the friendships blossoming across cultures and borders, the progress that has been made, and the future of cooperations and coexistence still to be done.