Our Festival of Hope

As we embark on Hanukkah (Or any of the more than 20 different spellings you might use), I am extra energized by the holiday, our festival of lights. The holiday is one of so much hope, especially the first night when the Maccabees had no idea that the oil would last for eight days, they just had hope that it would work out.

This hope is so significant — it is what allows us to still pray for the safe return of the 100 remaining hostages 446 days later, it is what allows us to fight like hell for our small sliver of land in the Middle East against seven enemies at a time, and it is what allows us to appreciate the strength of our community in the diaspora in the midst of escalating antisemitism.

This week my family is in Mexico and I forgot to bring the Hanukkiah, so we are improvising with votive candles. That is what we do as Jewish people, we improvise, just as the Maccabees did more than 2,000 years ago.

I love that Hanukkah is celebrated by our whole tribe from the most religious to the least, and I love that Hanukkiahs are put up all over the world. Check out this one made entirely of ice and erected near the Chabad house in Siberia.

And here are IDF soldiers stationed in Northern Gaza, lighting their Hanukkiah on the first night.

Wherever you are in the world, I am sending you Hanukkah love!
Sam

p.s. I am collecting photos of my community’s Hanukkiah to share on my Instagram stories, so if you are comfortable, please send me yours from any of the eight nights.

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