Month: December 2025

I was quite young when I discovered that I was not gifted with a singing voice. I was in youth choir at my synagogue, and I auditioned for a solo. The leader, my cantor’s wife, informed me I should find a new hobby… I couldn’t sing. The song I was auditioning for was “Light One Candle.”

Light one candle for the Maccabee children
Give thanks that their light didn’t die
Light one candle for the pain they endured
When their right to exist was denied

Light one candle for the terrible sacrifice
Justice and freedom demand
And light one candle for the wisdom to know
When the peacemaker’s time is at hand

Don’t let the light go out!
It’s lasted for so many years
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears

Light one candle for the strength that we need
To never become our own foe
And light one candle for those who are suff’ring
Pain we learned so long ago

Light one candle for all we believe in
Let anger not tear us apart!
Light one candle to bind us together
With peace as the song in our heart

Don’t let the light go out!
It’s lasted for so many years! (lasted for so many years!)
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears

Don’t let the light go out!
It’s lasted for so many years
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears

What is the memory that’s valued so highly
That we keep it alive in that flame?
What’s the commitment to those who have died
When we cry out they’ve not died in vain

We have come this far, always believing
That justice will somehow prevail
This is the burning, this is the promise
And this is why we will not fail

Don’t let the light go out! (don’t let the light go out!)
It’s lasted for so many years
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears

Don’t let the light go out!
It’s lasted for so many years
Don’t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears

Years after this revelation, I was sitting in a pew at a synagogue in Krakow, Poland, and right in front of me on the stand was a small yellow card with these words written on them. I was as amazed then by the lyrics as I remain today. This has been a hard time for our people. We keep going to bed each night hoping that when we wake up in the morning, we’ll realize this was all a bad nightmare. The sad thing is that it’s not, and we’re enduring such increased antisemitism that none of us imagined would be possible in 2025. None of us thought we would need to question attending a Hanukkah celebration. None of us would have thought twice of putting our Hanukkiahs in our windows. None of us would have thought we would be living dangerously by walking with kippot on our heads or Jewish stars around our necks.

Here is a summary of the past week. On Sunday, we witnessed the tragic murder of 15 Jewish people celebrating Hanukkah on a beach in Australia with scores of others wounded. We mourn the dark beginning of our Festival of Light(s). On Monday night in Amsterdam protesters violently clashed with police when they protested an IDF Cantor performing and celebrating Hanukkah there. On Tuesday night a Jewish man was stabbed in Crown Heights, NY and an attack on a subway against Jewish passengers. In California last Friday night a Jewish home came under attack as a passerby yelled antisemitic slurs and shot at the home decorated for Hanukkah. That followed a December 5^th arson attack on the Hillel House at UCSF. It’s 2025 and here we are living as if our legacy of victimization hasn’t happened, but it’s never ended. The world joined with us in claiming “Never Again”, and yet it still continues.

What is it about us that the world finds so hard to accept? Why is our simple request to be left alone, and to be who we are, still too hard for the world to accept? There are, in fact, answers to these questions. Author and scholar Dara Horn asserts that the world cannot accept Jewish power. That this small minority that punches above its weight is something the non-Jewish world (over 99% of the world population) cannot accept. She is right. Our success, and our unwillingness to yield to others’ hatred, drives their hatred. But there is a way forward that’s very similar to the cause. Dr. Deborah Lipstadt explains that deeply committed Jews are respected by the non-Jewish world. The more we get into our Jewishness, the less they will affect us, and the less they will hate us. The antidote to their hatred is lighting our candles.

This week we’ve been lighting five Hanukkiot in our home: one for each of us and one for the victims at Bondi Beach. We add to that Hanukkiah all victims of antisemitism. We add all Jews who are scared to wear their identifying jewelry, afraid to have a mezuzah on their door, afraid to wear a kippah and are afraid to light their Hanukkiah. We, as a Jewish people, have a light to light for ourselves, for other Jews and for the world. That light has been burning for thousands of years and we cannot allow it to go out at any moment. Don’t let the light go out, it has lasted for so many years. We must continue to feed our flame and thus our flame will be able to outshine the fires of their hatred.

Chag Orim Sameach and Shabbat Shalom,

 

 

Dreams figure very prominently in the book of בראשית/Bereshit/Genesis. While many dreams are recounted, there are six dreams that specifically anchor the life and journey of יוסף/Yosef/Joseph. At the beginning of this week’s פרשה/parsha/portion: וישב/VaYeshev, we have his two dreams of superiority over his brothers, and perhaps his entire family including his father and mother. When looking closely at this text, we must recognize that יוסף offered a retelling of his dreams, but he did not apply any sort of meaning to them. He didn’t interpret them, but others did. When he told his brothers of his dream of the harvest, he said his sheaves were mightier and the brothers’ sheaves all bowed down to his. He doesn’t assert meaning to it, but the brothers very angrily recognize a meaning that can be pulled out of this nighttime vision. Right after this dream, he reports another dream, this time astronomical in nature, to his brothers and father. On this occasion, his father derives the meaning of the dream and reprimands his son for his negative view of the rest of his family.

Years later when in jail, יוסף was on the other side of the dream experience when two fellow inmates, the butler and baker, report dreams to him and he interprets the meaning of the visions for them. Both interpretations come true, and as a result, at the beginning of next weeks פרשה: מקץ/Miketz, he is brought out of jail to help פרעה/Paro/Pharaoh who is struggling with his dreams as well. Again, his interpretation will prove to be accurate and will prove to be necessary for the well-being of the world. In each of these six dreams and their interpretations, the תורה/Torah is telling us something quite important. This demonstrates that we’re actors in our lives and not merely puppets. The dreams were indeed prophetic in nature, but without the interpretations, they were useless.

Dreams have great value to the Jewish people. In the תלמוד/Talmud we learn: God “will communicate with man through dreams” (Bavli Chagigah 5b) and that “Dreams are one sixtieth part of prophecy” (Bavli Berachot 57b). That’s the extent to which we appreciate the powers of dreams, but there’s something greater and more important in the dreams from the פרשה that were discussed above: “A dream uninterpreted is like a letter left unopened” (Bavli Berachot 57b). This statement has always taken hold of me and filled me with awe and amazement. Our ancestors appreciated the importance of our role and our ability to understand. Dreams should never be seen as self-evident, but needing humans to ascribe meaning to them. We saw that with יוסף’s brothers, with יעקב/Yakkov and with יוסף when he interpreted for the butler and the baker and for פרעה as well. The power of interpretation is a human strength, and it engages us and empowers us to have a role in our lives and in the lives of others. God may communicate with us through the dream, but we still need to do our part to better understand what the message is trying to convey and what we can do with it.

As חנכה/Chanukah begins this Sunday night, let’s recognize that the נס/Nes/Miracle of the חנכה was not just about oil lasting longer than it could or should have. The נס was and is about the Jewish people remaining vibrant and strong. The נס is about our commitment to our past, our present and our future. The נס is about an age of freedom of movement and choice regarding our religious identity. All of these miracles demonstrate that we, as Jews, take ownership of our Jewish world and Jewish lives. We recognize each of us has a role to play and that we need to be active. That’s what we will celebrate for the eight beautiful days of חנכה.

This Sunday morning is Bazaar. Not many synagogues have articles that start with those words. Here at OVS, Bazaar is almost like an additional holiday we have each year. Members and volunteers put it on their calendars far in advance and as soon as this year’s is concluded, we begin to work on the next one. It’s just like a holiday. Since I began working here in 2020, I’ve been amazed every year by what we’ve accomplished as a community.

Our Sisterhood must be commended for having established and maintained this incredible celebration for us and the greater community. I love the excitement leading up to Bazaar that includes baking sweets and treats, putting together gift baskets, collecting liquor for the raffle, creating signs, and the setup that completely transforms our building (I know I must have left numerous things off this list). The “erev” Bazaar is something to be marveled at too. Each year so many precious OVS members and volunteers come after Shabbat and spend the night getting our building ready. This too is something to be commended and honored. Then the actual big day arrives, and it’s festive and filled with traditions and rituals. Our community shines and we have the blessing of sharing our heritage and culture with the masses and showing them what they’re missing from their own experiences.

I’d like to shed some light on this from two parts of the פרשה/Parsha/Portion: וישלח/VaYishlach. The first deals with the embrace that is described when יעקב/YaAkov/Jacob and עשו/Esav/Esau finally meet again. The תורה/Torah described it as a hug and tears.

וַיָּ֨רׇץ עֵשָׂ֤ו לִקְרָאתוֹ֙ וַֽיְחַבְּקֵ֔הוּ וַיִּפֹּ֥ל עַל־צַוָּארָ֖ו וַׄיִּׄשָּׁׄקֵ֑ׄהׄוּׄ וַיִּבְכּֽוּ׃

Esau ran to greet him. He embraced him and, falling on his neck, he kissed him; and they wept. (בראשית לג:ד)

After these brothers had been estranged for so long, they came back together and embraced; they came back together and let go of the pain of the past and embraced a loving future. After all this time they were able to hug, kiss and weep because they were tied to each other. Each year at Bazaar, we see people who travel to come home to OVS to be a part of our legacy. There are so many embraces and so many joyous reunions. But there’s something greater than that; each year at Bazaar we’re reminded that we’re a family. I love seeing the brothers and sisters rolling up their sleeves and working side by side. I love the cousins who spend this time together and volunteer for so many different aspects of the day. The people who grew up around holiday tables together as if they were siblings still make their parents and their grandparents so proud to see their legacy living on. Look around this year and try to count the number of embraces you see on Saturday night and Sunday and I guarantee you’ll lose track quicker than me.

The second part of the פרשה I want to look at in relation to this weekend is the word ישראל/Yisrael/Israel as it’s the first time it’s ever said. The origin of the word is that יעקב had his name changed to ישראל after his nighttime battle with some being, Divine or human or both, and having walked away alive. The name actually is a combination of words that means to struggle with God.

וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לֹ֤א יַעֲקֹב֙ יֵאָמֵ֥ר עוֹד֙ שִׁמְךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־שָׂרִ֧יתָ עִם־אֱלֹהִ֛ים וְעִם־אֲנָשִׁ֖ים וַתּוּכָֽל׃

Said he, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed (בראשית לב:כט).”

I have bolded the letters that are combined to make this name. Struggling with God and with humankind is a uniquely Jewish outlook and responsibility. We each must do this, and we each must do it in our own way. Being Jewish has never been easy. We often think about the adversity and suffering and wonder if it can be better or if it could be worse. The answer is yes; it could be better and/or worse. The only solution to this struggle will always be to lean in and be more. The only solution will always be that we each need to be more committed and more connected. We need to be unwilling to forsake our people, our identity and our values. We all must be uncompromising when it comes to the well being and future of the Jewish people and our community. The recipe is to remember we have a beautiful gift and it’s one that needs to be nourished and cared for while being enjoyed. It’s with this in mind I say that every year at Bazaar we’re reminded of just this, as we display many of our gifts for the world to see. There will always be struggles as Jews in general, and here at OVS in specific, but at Bazaar we’re reminded that we have ways around those and we have a path by which to move forward.