Praying for uninterrupted light

The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. At the gathering of the Jewish Community in Bondi Beach, Australia, two terrorists filled with hate and thoroughly evil intentionally killed at least 16 people. People came together to light the Menorah, and at that moment, so much darkness was unleashed. There are times when one is at a loss for words, and this may be one of those. It was an event supposed to be filled with light. How can you put into words the sheer scope and magnitude of this tragedy? ​ The Torah states that the order of creation was that darkness was created, and only then was light created. Our Rabbi teaches us that on a deeper level, we must experience darkness before we can experience the light. We are familiar with the fact that darkness and light are not only about a time of day or when a light is turned on or off. Darkness and light represent different periods in life during which we experience blessings or curses. Light represents not only material blessings but also spiritual blessings. One can feel the countenance of G-d during this period. As we pray in the final blessing of Sim Shalom in the Amida, בָּרְ֒כֵֽנוּ אָבִֽינוּ כֻּלָּֽנוּ כְּאֶחָד בְּאוֹר פָּנֶֽיךָ. Translation: “Bless us, our Father, all of us as one with the light of Your countenance.” It is this light that the Chanukah lights reflect. It is well beyond the physical light coming from a candle or a burning wick. Darkness represents the very opposite of this countenance. The face of G-d is hidden during these times of darkness, and much pain and tragedy ensue. For whatever reason, it was divinely decreed that we must undergo the period of darkness before we may merit to see the light. As we continue to suffer in the dark, we look upwards and say to G-d, Have we not suffered enough? When will the era of uninterrupted light finally commence? In this week's Parsha, our Patriarch Yaakov, in his prayers, invokes the name of G-d as שד-י. Rashi explains that this name is associated with the word די (enough). The reason that Yaakov called out to G-d with the name שד-י is that he was pleading, “may He say 'Enough!” to my troubles.” (יֹאמַר דַּי לְצָרוֹתַ) ​ As we gather to light the last few Chanukah lights, let us invoke the same prayer of our ancestor Yaakov, and may we finally have a breakthrough to uninterrupted light. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Light Up the World

The polar vortex is coming again. Meteorologists are forecasting a “triple dip” of sub-zero temperatures in a good part of the country in December. Even the Great State of Florida will not be immune to the frigid air. Temperatures as low as 33 degrees Fahrenheit are forecast, increasing the risk of frost and damage to sensitive outdoor vegetation. I know that polar vortex when I see some of the trees in our neighbourhood sporting sweaters. ​ The truth is that it’s not only cold and dark in a physical sense. The Jewish people are once again encountering the cold and dark experiences that our ancestors experienced regularly, but we thought were in the rear-view mirror of history. ​ As we gather on Sunday night to once again light the Chanukah candles, it is an opportunity to bring light into this dark world. Our Rabbis teach that lighting the candles is merely a physical manifestation of our actively bringing the light of G-d into the world. There is an unusual practice related to Chanukah called “Pirsumei Nisa.” (Translation: to let the miracle be known to the public.) We are not merely obligated to light the Menorah, but obligated to light it in public. Even if someone is lighting at home, it should not be inside but rather at the door or window. There is no parallel obligation to any of the other Jewish holidays. One can ask, as we say at the Pesach seder, Mah Nishtana! Why do we light the Chanukah lights in public display when there is such an obligation for any other Mitzvah? ​ The reason for the unusual practice is that it underscores a primary theme of Chanukah. The physical light that we kindle is merely a physical manifestation of the spiritual and Divine light that enters our world. In a space and time rife with societal breakdown of so many of our most cherished values, it is the Divine light of the Chanukah lights that reminds us to be the best versions of ourselves. As we gather this Sunday night to light the first candle, let us remind ourselves that, despite all the chaos and darkness that we find ourselves in, we have the power to bring the most exalted light into our world. All we need to do is light the match. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Dual Citizenship

Political shots have been fired. Freshman Senator Bernie Moreno from Ohio has introduced legislation to ban dual citizenship in the United States. The “Exclusive Citizenship Act of 2025” would make it illegal for an American citizen to hold dual citizenship with another country. Moreno, who himself immigrated from Colombia, is touting his own renunciation of his Colombian identity as the champion of this cause. Moreno stated,” If you want to be an American, it’s all or nothing. It’s time to end dual citizenship for good.” ​ It remains to be seen whether this legislation will become law or withstand the scrutiny of the Supreme Court (previous court rulings have upheld dual citizenship as constitutional). Regardless, this call to action reflects the political environment. The ramifications for the Jewish community, especially those American Jews living in Israel with dual citizenship, is very significant. The tilt toward nationalism has been picking up steam in the MAGA world, and some in the movement are also calling for it to be illegal for any American to serve in the IDF. One of the accusations of Jews throughout history has been that we have not shown sufficient loyalty to the host country. One of the blessings of the American Jewish story until now has been that we did not have to choose between being a proud Jew and a loyal American. The road ahead in the American Jewish story may be changing, and we are looking for twists and turns in this road that we might not have seen before. In this week's Parsha, our ancestor Yaakov has an encounter with one of history's first anti-Semites. It was his brother Esav. After over two decades of Esav attempting to kill Yaakov, the two brothers arrive at reconciliation. The Torah describes the encounter as warm, noting that Esav even kissed Yaakov. What’s odd is that the Hebrew word for "and he kissed him” is וַיִּשָּׁקֵ֑הוּ, and there are dots over the word וַיִּשָּׁקֵ֑הוּ in the Torah. The placement of these dots is usually there to indicate a deeper message. Rashi quotes the Midrash to the effect that it is known that Esav hates Yaakov. It was just then that Esav was overwhelmed with compassion and embraced Yaakov. It doesn’t mean that Esav was insincere when he embraced Yaakov. It means that it was an aberration of his default of hostility. ​ Throughout our history, we have been accosted by the biological and ideological descendants of Esav who threatened our destruction time and time again. The pattern usually begins on more benign terms and might even be friendly. Usually, at some point, we are given an ultimatum to either give up our faith or else. The call to end Dual Citizenship may turn out to be a blip on the screen that won’t affect us much. Or it may be the new canary in the coal mine. Either way, it requires us to buckle up for the road ahead. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch