Why the Bondi Beach Massacre Won't Stop Us Lighting Chanukah Candles

As the first flames of Chanukah flicker in Jewish homes around the world this December 2025, we are confronted with a profound and painful paradox. On the very evening meant to celebrate the triumph of light over darkness, a horrific antisemitic terrorist attack unfolded at Sydney's iconic Bondi Beach during a joyful "Chanukah by the Sea" celebration hosted by Chabad of Bondi.

At least 15 precious lives were stolen, including that of Assistant Rabbi Eli Schlanger, a devoted organizer of the event, with dozens more wounded in an act of calculated hatred that Australian authorities have rightly declared terrorism

.Our hearts ache for the victims, their families, and the entire Sydney Jewish community, shaken to its core on what should have been a night of unity, donuts, and the lighting of a giant menorah.

Yet, in this moment of unspeakable grief, the ancient story of Chanukah speaks to us with urgent relevance, offering not just consolation, but a clarion call to resilience.

More than two millennia ago, the Jewish people faced encirclement by overwhelming darkness. The mighty Seleucid Greek empire, under Antiochus IV, sought to eradicate Jewish practice, banning Torah study, circumcision, and Shabbat observance. They desecrated the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, erecting idols and sacrificing pigs on the altar, a profound violation of sanctity.

Internal divisions plagued the Jewish nation as well: Hellenized Jews collaborated with the oppressors, betraying their heritage for assimilation and power. Surrounded by cultural assimilation, military might, and betrayal from within, the situation seemed hopeless.

But a small band of Maccabees, led by Judah and his brothers, rose in defiance. Against impossible odds, they waged a guerrilla war, reclaiming the Temple and rededicating it to Hashem's service.

When they sought pure oil to relight the menorah, they found only a single cruse, enough for one day. Miraculously, it burned for eight, a divine affirmation that Hashem's presence endures even in the bleakest times.The Maccabees' victory was not merely military; it was spiritual. The light of the menorah pierced the darkness, proclaiming the eternity of the Torah and the indestructibility of the Jewish spirit.

Today, as we mourn the evil unleashed at Bondi, gunmen targeting families and children gathered in innocent celebration, we see echoes of that ancient darkness. Antisemitism, that oldest hatred, rears its head once more, seeking to extinguish Jewish light through violence and terror. Like the Greeks, modern forces of hate aim to erase our identity, our joy, our very right to exist openly as Jews. And yes, divisions in broader society, fueled by misinformation and polarization, can weaken resolve, much as internal strife did in antiquity.

But Chanukah reminds us: darkness cannot prevail. The miracle of the oil teaches that even a small flame, tended with faith, can illuminate the night. The Maccabees' courage shows that a committed few can overcome the many. In Sydney, amid the horror, we already witness sparks of that light: brave bystanders who disarmed attackers, first responders who risked everything, and a nation rallying in solidarity against hate.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese rightly called this an "act of evil antisemitism," vowing that Australia will not submit to division or violence. Global leaders echo condolences, affirming that Jewish life must be protected. And in Jewish communities worldwide, menorahs will burn brighter this year, in public squares, on beaches, in homes, as acts of defiance and hope.

The Torah is eternal, Hashem's covenant unbreakable. No bullet, no bomb, no wave of hatred can snuff out the Jewish flame.

May the memories of the victims be a blessing, and may Hashem comfort the mourners among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.