Shavua Tov
On this seventh night of Hanukkah, we gather in a moment that holds both light and heartbreak.
Just a week ago, as we lit the first candles of the festival, we were confronted with devastating news: the tragic murder of fifteen Jewish people on Bondi Beach in Australia. Geographically, this violence took place far from Tucson and yet, emotionally and spiritually, it struck painfully close to home.
In a 1956 sermon, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, asks a question that feels hauntingly current: Is the Jewish Diaspora one or not? Are we still a “we”? Are we one people, or merely many individuals scattered across the globe?
Rabbi Soloveitchik offers a response that is as profound as it is raw. He proposes a disturbing metaphor: imagine a man with two heads. How do we know whether he is one being or two? Pour boiling water on one head. If the other head screams in pain, then they are one. If not, they are two individuals sharing a body.
“This painful test,” Soloveitchik, “is the test of peoplehood.” So long as there is shared suffering ‘I am with him in his distress’ (Psalm 91:15) there is unity.
The pain we feel when Jews are attacked anywhere in the world is precisely because we are one people. Their suffering is not distant. It is ours.
And yet, Hanukkah also reminds us that our peoplehood is not defined only by shared pain, but by shared joy. Each night as we light our candles, we know we are joined by the Jewish community here in Tucson, across North America, around the world, and of course in Israel. Across oceans and borders, the same light is kindled. The same blessings are spoken. The same hope endures.
The Hanukkah candles teach us something essential: they do not light themselves. They are ignited by the shamash the helper candle. The shamash does not diminish its own flame by lighting others; it spreads light, purpose, and warmth.
Each of us is called to be a shamash. As volunteers, leaders, donors, and staff, we are asked to share our light to lift one another, to strengthen our community, and to ensure vibrant Jewish life right here in Southern Arizona.
As Hanukkah comes to a close tomorrow evening, I invite each of us to reflect:
How can I extend my light?
Whom can I help illuminate?
How can we, together, ensure that the flame of Jewish life burns brightly for generations to come?
We close with songs that remind us who we are and what we carry forward.
From our tradition, a song of enduring hope:
We close with music that captures both our tradition and our broader cultural story.
From our sacred Hebrew songbook, we sing:
“Kol Ha’olam Kulo gesher tzar me’od v’ha’ikar lo l’fached klal.”
The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the most important thing is not to be afraid.
And from the Broadway stage, a reminder that even the smallest flame can transform the world, from Dear Evan Hansen:
“Even when the dark comes crashing through, when you need a friend to carry you… You will be found
May we be shamashim for one another.
May our courage outshine our fear.
And may the light we kindle together continue to glow long after Hanukkah ends.
Chag Urim Sameach.
Cochenu b’Achduteynu | כחינו באחדותינו | Our strength is in our unity.
Am Yisrael Chai | עם ישראל חי
Bring them Home Now I מחזירים אותם הביתה עכשיו
Todd Rockoff
President + CEO, Tucson J
