This has been a really, really hard week. I have not been able to stop thinking about the terrorist attack in Sydney.
The fear and pain is sitting in our homes, in our children’s questions, in the quiet moments when we wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Sorella Abrahams, a Bondi Beach survivor, put it into words in a way that stopped me cold.
She spoke about her family and the large menorah they keep outside their home year-round, especially since October 7th. The neighbors know the house. It has become a symbol of Jewish presence, strength, and warmth, and they’ve received a lot of positive feedback about it.
And then came the fear.
Her family had been on Bondi Beach when the attack unfolded.
That night, when the family finally made it home, their children were crying. They begged.
“Please, Mom. Aba. Turn off the menorah. Our house is going to become a target.”
As parents, they looked at each other and said what Jews have said for generations: “No way. We’re not going down like this. We don’t turn off menorahs. We don’t hide our kippahs. We stand proud and loud.”
But the children kept crying. Begging. Afraid. And so, as a mother, she turned it off to calm the kids, despite how she felt.
The next day, a Christian neighbor came by the house. She shared that her own daughter, a non-Jew, had driven past, had seen that the menorah had gone dark, and burst into tears.
“No, Mom,” the girl cried. “They’re turning off their menorahs. The evil can’t win.”
Hearing this, they decided without hesitation: “No matter what, that menorah goes back on. We don’t turn off menorahs … We don’t go down in darkness. We shine light. That’s the only way to push out darkness. We look out for each other. We spread goodness. We spread kindness. That’s what we do. That’s all we know.”
Because every Jew knows we carry a spark of G-d inside. Our job, especially when it’s hard, is to let that spark shine.
Our children are scared, and that makes this moment unbearable. Yet fear does not get the final word; light does.
The entire Egyptian exile and redemption begins with dreams. The dreams of Yosef and his brothers, the dreams of the butler and the baker, and the dreams of Pharaoh.
In regular times, growth needs to make sense. Slowly taking on more mitzvahs. Adding one candle each night. Slow and steady. However, exile is like a dream where two opposites can happen at the same time. Even an elephant can fit through the eye of a needle in a dream.
The antidote to exile is to hold two opposing emotions and two dissonant behaviors at the same time. It’s counterintuitive, yet you can struggle with faith while observing mitzvahs. You can light Shabbos candles even if you are not fully Shabbos observant. You can study Torah daily, even if you don’t keep kosher.
Do something defiant (in the best sense) to make sure that light prevails.
An easy way to add in daily learning is to sign up for the Chayenu magazine, and/or download the daily study app. Audio and text study available.
Have a good Shabbos,
Rabbi Kushi Schusterman
P.S. Let me know if we can support you in any way.
You can be added to the Shabbat time text reminder list, join the weekly torah class, and learn how to keep kosher. Just let us know.