Light always wins over darkness

Meta candles
London, ON
December 2022
This photo originally shared on Instagram

It’s always about the light.

Chanukah, or Hanukkah, or however it’s spelled in English*, is the Jewish Festival of Light. Now, I’m not a terribly good Jew in the know-all-the-rules, go-to-synagogue-often kind of way. I don’t believe memorizing and repeating specific prayers makes me a good Jew.

But still, so many facets of our traditions resonate with me on a profound level, and Chanukah’s whole light thing has always rocked my world.

Here’s how I see it: the world can be a dark place, and 2022 has been especially dark. It’s been a year of skyrocketing inflation, spiking interest rates putting housing beyond reach, accelerating layoffs, and growing fears of recession. And in case that hasn’t been enough. It’s also been a year of off-the-charts anti-Semitism.

Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, replete with propaganda plays lifted from the 1930s Nazi playbook, are certainly part of it.

Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter and the train wreck that’s ensued since is another factor fuelling this new wave of misdirected xenophobia.

But in fairness to the monster dictator and the tempestuous billionaire, the torrent of hate was trending upward long before either of these chapters dawned.

Still, they have brought Jew-hatred to a level I frankly haven’t seen. Ever. My feeds are now filled with it, and I wrestle with what to say, how to say it, and whether saying it at all will turn me and my family into a target.

So much for “Never again”.

Which is why this year, the whole Chanuka-and-light thing matters perhaps more than it has in recent memory. And I’m just naive enough to believe that something as simple as a single light could be the turning point we need to squelch the hate.

So here’s what I’m thinking: tonight is the first night, the first of eight where each successive night will add another light. Until all eight are lit, an analog to the miracle of Jewish survival that underpins not just this one holiday, but our entire existence, frankly.

Maybe that light will inspire each of us, whatever we celebrate, to find new ways to beat back the darkness that threatens to swallow us.

Maybe as the light grows, from one night to the next, we’ll gain new courage to fight the forces of hate, to speak up when we see it, to not stand idly by and just let it happen.

Maybe.

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* In Hebrew, it’s always spelled the same: חֲנֻכָּה. It’s when it gets transliterated into English that sometimes “ch” becomes “h” and one k becomes two (or whatever). Languages are hard. And so awesome. All at the same time.

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