I’m writing this piece on the 14th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev, 11 days out from Chanukah. Many of you are likely busy getting the holiday decorations out of the basement, or attempting to track down the obscure Star Wars collectible that your grandson put on his wish list. This Chanukah, for me, is very bittersweet, because it’s my first Chanukah away from my family. On the sweet side, this is my second Chanukah in Israel, which is always an incredible experience. Chanukah is a very family-oriented affair in my house, so this holiday I’m going to miss them a lot. In order to counterbalance these feelings, I’ve been thinking about the last time I spent Chanukah in Israel, which was December 2022 on a family trip. 

    My family and I spent most of Chanukah at a hotel in Kibbutz Lavi in the Galilee. Incidentally, that hotel is now being used to house evacuees from the Gaza envelope. In better times, Kibbutz Lavi is well-known for being where religious Israeli families go on vacation. Last year, it was a very immersive experience to immediately land in Israel, and spend the first three nights in a hotel where almost nobody spoke English. 

At Kibbutz Lavi all the hotel guests lit their chanukiyot together in one glass hallway overlooking the Galilean hills. One night it got crowded so my family and I came down to light a bit later. By this point one of the other guests had brought out a guitar and they were all singing Chanukah songs. The guy with the guitar noticed that we needed to sing Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages) after we lit our candles, so he stopped the singing, played the first few chords of Maoz Tzur on his guitar, and we sang our Maoz Tzur together with everyone who was there. It was a beautiful scene: five Jews from Toronto, in a hallway with dozens of other people from half a world away, people we’ve never met before and may never meet again, people with different levels of observance, different politics, different life stories - and we were all united in singing exactly the same festive lyrics that we have been singing for hundreds of years.

We celebrated the victory of the Maccabees as if we were all singing from one voice. After we finished Maoz Tzur, I went to thank the guy with the guitar for the beautiful song. He laughed and asked me if there’s anything else I would like to sing. At that moment my mind was drawn to one ancient Jewish song: Acheinu Kol Beit Yisrael. Our siblings, all the family of Israel. And on that night, in that hallway, I sang Acheinu with my siblings, the family of Israel. 

    This Chanukah, I will be without my parents, siblings and grandparents. But I’m still going to be with my family. Because those same people who sang together, as one, in that hotel, those people today are donating blood for the injured. They’re sending winter clothes to evacuees from the south. They’re babysitting each other’s kids. They’re fighting alongside one another for the security of the State of Israel. Between last Chanukah and this Chanukah, Israel underwent one of the most divisive periods in its history. The judicial overhaul plan and its fiery response exposed rampant factionalism and huge gaps between the various sectors of Israeli society. These fissures persist to this day and need to be addressed imminently.

And yet, in the face of immense tragedy, I feel the same sense of unity that I felt here a year ago. Because fundamentally, the people of Israel are one big family. So this Chanukah, I’m putting aside the underlying issues that divide us. I’m just looking forward to spending Chanukah with my family.