December 16, 2025|כ"ו כסלו ה' אלפים תשפ"ו Lighting the Darkness: Chanukah Courage After Bondi Beach By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

One of my most formative experiences as a rabbi occurred early in my career, during a shiva call. I went to visit a young woman who had lost a parent, and I was desperate to say something helpful, to open a space for her to share her feelings. I tried too hard, and it was completely unsuccessful. I even felt that my efforts might have annoyed or angered her. It was not my business to dictate how she should grieve. I left feeling discouraged and unsure of myself.

In the aftermath, I called a senior rabbi from another community. He explained something that has guided me ever since: it is not our role to dictate how someone should feel. Even if most mourners experience tragedy in a similar way, our responsibility is simply to be present, to be available, and to let the person in mourning take the lead. Halacha reflects this approach: when paying a shiva call, one waits for the mourner to address the visitor first. The visitor’s job is to make it clear that they are there to help in whatever way is needed, but not to impose their own expectations.

This principle extends beyond shiva calls to all acts of chesed. Recently, we witnessed the horrific terrorist shooting in Bondi Beach, Australia. We extend our heartfelt sympathy to the holy souls who were tragically taken, and our prayers for the full recovery of those who are injured. In the aftermath, many have urged Jews in the diaspora to make aliya, arguing that life is no longer safe outside Israel, or that in the diaspora we are at the mercy of non-Jewish governments. I have seen similar calls to make aliya in response to events like the mayoral victory of Zohran Mamdani. While I appreciate the sentiment, I believe it is misguided.

I felt similarly after antisemitic incidents on college campuses following October 7th. Many parents were advised to stop sending their children to Ivy League schools, and instead send them to Jewish universities where students could openly express their Jewish identity. Again, while well-intentioned, I believe this approach is flawed.

When someone is suffering – whether an individual, a community, or the Jewish people – our job is to be present and ask: How can we help? Victims of antisemitism deserve our support, and every individual has the right to assess their own risks and make their own decisions about where to live or study. We must not respond with fear or encourage Jews to walk without a yarmulka or to hide their identity. Our goal is to empower people to live proudly as Jews wherever they are.

These moments remind me of the lesson of Chanukah. The story of the Chashmonaim is not just about a military victory – it is about courage, persistence, and bringing light into darkness. Even when the odds seem overwhelming, the obligation is not to hide or retreat, but to assert our identity, protect our communities, and illuminate the world around us. Chanukah teaches us that light is kindled through action, not through avoidance.

That said, every Jew should aspire to live in Eretz Yisrael. Eretz Yisrael is our national homeland, the place where Jewish collective life – spiritual, cultural, and political – can be most fully realized. All things being equal, that is where we should live. Similarly, institutions such as Yeshiva University represent an ideal educational vision: first-rate Torah learning alongside top-notch general education, offering students continued excellence in talmud Torah and a serious, principled framework through which to engage the broader world. These are not refuges from fear, but destinations of purpose. They are places we should choose not because we are running away from something, but because we are running toward something aspirational and enduring.

At the same time, we must be clear about what we are not doing. We do not respond to terrorism or antisemitism by hiding, retreating, or confining ourselves to spaces that feel safer simply because they are Jewish. We must fight for every Jew to feel comfortable and confident in every legitimate space – on every college campus, in every city, and in every society – walking proudly with a yarmulka and living openly as a Jew. And whenever possible, we should build our lives, our learning, and our communities around ideals that reflect who we are at our best and who we strive to become, strengthening both the Jewish people and the world around us.

Ultimately, the best way to do chesed for those facing an uptick in antisemitism is not to dictate what they should do, but to ask: How can I help? Presence, support, and humility are the truest expressions of caring – and they are the lessons that guide us through every moment of challenge. Like the menorah’s flames, even a small act of support, courage, or presence can illuminate the darkness and inspire hope.