Maintaining the Legacy of the Festival of Light
As we move into the secular New Year and Chanukah fades into the past, I often wonder what happens to the light once the candles are put away. Chanukah is a brief interlude in our calendar but its message of bringing more light into the world certainly does not need to be seasonal. If anything, the days after Chanukah ask the harder question: how do we carry that light forward when the flames are no longer visible? Even as the days get longer again and we have more physical light, how do we continue to strive to bring more metaphorical light into the world?
This Chanukah was marred by the attacks on Bondi Beach. This year has been a year of heartbreak and bad news for the Jewish community and for many other communities. The world continues to feel unsettled and heavy, marked by conflict, division and uncertainty. The rhythm of the news can leave us feeling overwhelmed or powerless. Chanukah did not and cannot resolve any of that. But perhaps it can offer us the courage to darkness not with despair, but with intention – to add light where we can, to refuse to give up on hope, even when it feels fragile.
In many ways, I see the answer to that challenge reflected in our own community. Over the last year our synagogue has felt vibrantly alive, celebrating and holding moments from every stage of life. We have just held our first ever baby blessing for Lily and Pete’s lovely son Rowan, surrounding new life with warmth, promise and responsibility. We have rejoiced in Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, witnessing young people claiming their place in the Jewish story. We have welcomed multiple new Jews by choice through conversion, each journey a powerful reminder that Judaism continues to be chosen, renewed and loved.
We have also walked alongside our members through periods of illness and other difficulties. And we have stood together at funerals, accompanying one another through grief with tenderness and respect. All of these moments are sacred. Judaism does not ask us to turn away from suffering and loss; it asks us to sanctify it through presence, ritual and community.
To hold all of this together — celebration and mourning, beginnings and endings — is what real community looks like. In a world that often fragments us into isolated moments and individual experiences, our Liberal Jewish community remains a place where lives intersect, where stories are shared, and where no one has to mark life’s milestones alone. Perhaps this is the deeper legacy of Chanukah as we enter the New Year. The light does not disappear when the candles are extinguished. It lives on in how we show up for one another, how we create meaning together, and how we choose connection over fragmentation.
Rabbi Anna, 29th of January 2026