In JNS.org, Defense Minister Israel Katz is reported to have told the Knesset Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee, “We are the closest to a hostage deal since the last one.” It’s not always clear to non-Israeli audiences what is meant by Israeli comments like this one. Should we read it with hope or with an appropriate measure of cynicism?

If we read it with hope, then we should prepare our Menorahs (our Hanukkiot) for a very bright Chanukah, indeed. We might even add an extra candle to commemorate the end of this darkest time in Jewish and Israeli history. That all of this might also occur as Chanukah and Christmas overlap this year is a “nes gadol,” a great miracle we can all embrace.

But if we read it with a measured amount of familiar Israeli cynicism, then we should still prepare our Hanukkiot, because it’s a mitzvah, but without any greater anticipation than the last time Israel announced that we were “close to a hostage deal.”

If you feel the simultaneous tension and ambiguous conclusion in Katz’s message, then you’re beginning to understand Israel. It’s not that nothing is ever clear, it’s just that everything is always tenuous. To quote David Ben Gurion, again, “To be a realist in Israel, you have to believe in miracles.”

At this darkest season of the year, it’s the miracle of light that convenes Jewish families, and especially their children, to find hope in increasing lights. Talmud teaches, “Ma’alin bakodesh, v’ein moridin,” increase holiness; don’t decrease it. It’s the reason why the prevailing rule about lighting a menorah is according to the House of Hillel, who taught us to increase the lights each night until all the candles are burning; unlike Shammai, who taught us to decrease the lights until one is burning on the last day. For 2000 years, hope was always kindled in every candle that was ever lit by every Jewish family. And when hope didn’t come or dreams weren’t realized, they lit the candles anyway, they prayed their prayers facing towards Jerusalem, and they never gave up.

Neither should we. Since October 7th, hope has been kindled, dashed, and extinguished. But the flicker that remains and the Chanukah season that nears reminds us, just when we need it, that hope still exists. And it is that hope, bound up in our people’s memory, that guides us to prepare the Hanukkiah for lighting, again. This year we will not be too quick to think that a hostage deal is near, but neither will we be without hope that perhaps, just maybe, while the candles are burning and the embers are glowing, that another loved one will emerge from the darkness into the light, again.

Whether we are Israelis or not, it is that Jewish tension and angst that bind us and hold us. We have to accommodate them, because without them we cease to hope. Being Jewish means to hope, just as we gather to sing “HaTikvah,” the Hope. This season let’s face east and pray for a miracle on Chanukah. Let’s light our candles and remember “the miracles that God did for our ancestors at this season in days long ago,” and what we can do with God’s help for the hostages and their families, today.

Please continue to find ways to support Israel through the Jewish Federation of Greater Houston at www.HoustonJewish.org, and through the synagogue. Each contribution adds to the lights that we know are coming. Together, we hope.

L’Shalom,