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The Maccabees taught us persistence and hope – even when the light flickers, as it has this Hanukkah
The first time I lit a Hanukkah candle as a Jew wasn’t at a synagogue or around a large family table. It was in a tiny apartment kitchen with my then-fiancé, Reid. I didn’t yet know the blessings by heart or if I belonged. But when that first shamash, the special “helper” candle used to light the Hanukkah menorah, flickered to life, something in me shifted. I knew I had reached a place where curiosity wasn’t a problem to be solved, it was a doorway.
Lighting the candles with Reid and our two children as we process the horrifying news from Sydney, Australia, I find myself thinking back to that first candle and to a tradition that empowers us through learning and debate, where hard questions are not avoided or feared but welcomed, even in times of great heartbreak and adversity. In a moment when so much pushes us apart and so many try to make us afraid, those values draw us together and give us strength.
Hanukkah itself is a story of a community striving to stay whole in the face of profound forces of division. The Maccabees stood against a regime that attempted to erase Jewish practice by banning observance, desecrating the Temple, and punishing the very acts that defined Jewish life. The victory we celebrate is the enduring resilience of Jewish identity, a small, committed people, deeply diverse in their own ways, coming together around a shared purpose to reclaim the right to live authentically.
When the Temple was rededicated, they relit the ner tamid, the eternal flame, with only a day’s worth of consecrated oil. The miracle, tradition teaches, is that the flame lasted eight days until new oil could be secured. But perhaps the greater miracle is that they lit the flame at all, despite their fear, the uncertainty, and the enormity of the moment. Even in the darkest times, our light shines brightest when we choose to light it together.
My journey to becoming Jewish was many years in the making. I was raised Catholic in the church my mother grew up in. I was a curious child, always pressing to understand the world around me. After the sudden death of my father at nine, I craved answers to life’s toughest questions and felt increasingly out of place in a setting where questions were treated as a lack of faith. In Judaism, I found a spiritual home that teaches that questions are holy, learning is lifelong, truth is revealed through wrestling with ideas, and our sacred bonds to each other are strengthened through debate.
I still remember the moment I first learned this about Judaism. More than a decade before my conversion, Reid and I sat on a lumpy sofa in a University of Chicago lounge debating life’s mysteries the way only college students can. After I had shared my frustrations about organized religion, Reid explained that in his experience, Judaism didn’t fear disagreement, but welcomed it. It was a tradition built on commentary layered over commentary, where even the margins of our texts are alive with centuries of Jews arguing, interpreting, questioning, refining, and expanding on the ideas that came before them.
As I continue to grow into my Jewish identity, it becomes ever more clear that the Jewish community is not a monolith. We span countless traditions, cultures, and perspectives. Our disagreements are real, deeply felt, and sometimes painful. But disagreement is not the opposite of unity. Judaism gives us the tools to lean into complexity without letting it tear us apart.
At this difficult moment we are living in, that seems a daunting task. Antisemitism is surging in ways both familiar and surprising, and Jews are being targeted simply for being Jewish. Millenia-old tropes are finding new life in the ugliest corners of the internet and on our sidewalks, with online conspiracy-theories fueling real-world violence. This bigotry is often smuggled into mainstream discourse using criticism of the State of Israel as a Trojan Horse, with the intention of pitting Jews against each other.
We must reject this attempt to co-opt political disagreements by those who wish to destroy us and remember that for many American Jews, Israel represents shared history, culture, and the enduring light of Jewish peoplehood – the very light that antisemites have long tried to extinguish.
The goal of antisemitism is, as it has always been, to divide us, isolate us, and snuff out our light. Hanukkah reminds us that our story did not end in the ancient world. From Jerusalem to Sydney to New York, we are still here, still connected, still carrying that light forward, and the miracle the Maccabees fought for endures in Jewish survival and the promise of a Jewish future. Hanukkah teaches that when Jewish people, by birth and by choice alike, stand together in shared purpose, bound together as B’nei Israel, we can overcome even the greatest darkness.
Unity does not mean uniformity. It means choosing one another, especially when the world feels fractured and we, as Jews, are under attack. It means committing to our shared future even as we debate the path to get there. It means recognizing that our strength has always come from community, learning, and a willingness to keep asking the hard questions together.
This is the model I strive to follow as a public servant: to lead with curiosity, to listen across differences, to protect our sacred spaces, and to build bridges through education and shared understanding.
As someone who chose this tradition because of its capacity for honesty, complexity, and hope, I urge us to take the lesson of the Maccabees to heart and keep the light shining – for ourselves, for each other, and for the generations who will inherit the world we shape today.
The post The Maccabees taught us persistence and hope – even when the light flickers, as it has this Hanukkah appeared first on The Forward.
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North Carolina Democrats reject Gaza genocide resolution following campaign by Jewish caucus
(JTA) — For weeks, Jewish Democrats in North Carolina worked to block the state’s Democratic Party from passing a resolution declaring Israel’s actions in Gaza a genocide.
On Saturday, they narrowly prevailed.
The measure, titled the “Genocide Accountability Resolution,” was struck down by members of the North Carolina Democratic Party’s State Executive Committee with a vote of 163-130.
For Amy DeLoach, the first vice chair of the North Carolina Democratic Party Jewish Caucus, the victory marked a sign that Jewish Democrats still have a place in the party, even as debates over Israel have roiled Democratic politics across the country.
“Most Jews vote Democratically, and we were feeling abandoned, and now we feel like we have a home again,” said DeLoach, who also sits on the party’s international subcommittee.
The defeat of the resolution comes as support for Israel has dropped dramatically among Democrats, and the U.S.-Israel alliance has increasingly emerged as a third rail within the party.
While resolutions condemning the pro-Israel lobby AIPAC and calling to halt arms sales to Israel have been blocked by the Democratic National Committee over the past year, last June, the North Carolina Democratic Party passed a resolution calling for an immediate arms embargo on Israel.
Joel Wanger, the chief political officer of the Democratic Majority for Israel, welcomed the outcome of the genocide resolution in a statement to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency Tuesday.
“This resolution would have divided Democrats at a time when we should be united in opposing Donald Trump, while doing nothing to advance peace between Israelis and Palestinians,” he said.
The resolution was introduced earlier this year by a member of the progressive, Arab and Muslim caucuses of the North Carolina Democratic Party. It advanced from the precinct level through county, district and state bodies before reaching the State Executive Committee for a final vote Saturday.
The resolution would have added language to the state party platform calling for the “prosecution” and “vetting” of individuals and entities in the United States who “may have participated in or enabled genocide.” The resolution also cited a United Nations Commission of Inquiry that concluded for the first time in September that Israel had committed a genocide in Gaza.
The resolution’s defeat Saturday followed an extensive campaign by the party’s Jewish Caucus to block its adoption.
In a May 27 letter to members of the executive committee, leaders of the Jewish Caucus urged them to reject the resolution, arguing that state parties “should not adopt contested international policy positions” and that its timing would hurt 2026 Democratic candidates and divide voters.
“Jewish, Muslim, Palestinian, Christian, and secular Democrats are united on affordability, public education, healthcare, voting rights, and reproductive freedom,” the letter said. “This resolution forces them to take sides on something most did not join the party to fight about.”
The letter cited “serious factual and legal problems” with the resolution and said Jewish Democrats would support a substitute “affirming NC Democrats’ commitment to ending civilian suffering in Gaza, supporting humanitarian aid, and opposing antisemitism, Islamophobia, and political violence in all forms.”
But the Jewish Caucus was not the only group within the party invested in the outcome of the vote.
Last month, the leaders of the Muslim, Arab, interfaith and progressive caucuses of the North Carolina Democratic Party issued its own a letter calling on members of the State Executive Committee to support the resolution in order to “affirm our party’s commitment to human rights and the protection of civilian life.”
“All too frequently, the burdensome narrative of genocide denial has been heard from those persons and organizations who have 1) either acquiesced to genocide or 2) feared the worst reprisals from those who have supported it,” the letter read. “This silence compromises the faith of many voters in our party.”
The letter, which cited a recent study that found 80% of Democrats have an unfavorable view of Israel, was undersigned by the head of the state party’s Jewish Democrats, a non-Zionist Jewish subgroup within the Interfaith Caucus.
Mark Bochkis, the communications chair of the Jewish Democrats, told JTA that his group and the Jewish Caucus “fundamentally disagree about the divisiveness” of the resolution.
“We believe this is actually an issue that galvanizes the younger base of the party and other other important key voting blocks for the Democratic party,” Bochkis said. “We believe not speaking out on something like this is actually holding the party back.”
Paul McAllister, the chair of the Interfaith Caucus, told JTA that “we don’t want to see anything happen to any member of any community, Jewish or otherwise, but we do want accountability.”
While McAllister said that the language concerning “prosecution” in the resolution could have been “clarified,” he said the Jewish Caucus’ suggestion of an alternative to the resolution attracted little support because he felt it “waters down the need to hold a nation accountable for what it is doing to another people.”
“My major concern is that we have a faction within the party that wants justice for all people equally, Jews and Palestinians, and that there’s some in the party, namely members of the Jewish caucus, who do not comprehend how critical it is that we not only look after our own interest or our own group’s interest, but the interest of others, and this is the struggle,” McAllister said.
DeLoach said the scheduling of the vote last week on Shabbat had bothered members of the Jewish caucus. But she said they had “let that one go” to focus on fighting the resolution.
“We talk about that amongst ourselves, but we’re in a war right now,” she said. “We’re going to pick and choose the battles we fight.”
DeLoach said her group viewed the resolution as a political liability that could potentially force Democratic candidates in the state to either distance themselves from the party or embrace a “difficult divisive issue” on the campaign trail.
“No politician is going to want to run on a platform that includes this,” DeLoach said. “Platforms don’t win elections, and this is going to risk us losing an outrageously important election.”
DeLoach pointed to the campaigns of Roy Cooper, the state’s former governor who’s running for a Senate seat, and Anita Earls, who is running for reelection to the North Carolina Supreme Court.
“Most Democrats in North Carolina really are more concerned about their electric bill right now, and the cost of food,” DeLoach said. “As the vote shows, you know, nobody likes what’s going on in the Middle East. We don’t like what’s going on in the Middle East, but we know that’s not where our focus should be right now.”
Looking ahead, DeLoach said she hoped that the resolution’s defeat would serve as a warning against rhetoric she saw as “adding to a drumbeat of antisemitism that is so prevalent in the country.”
“There’s war crimes on both sides here, but it’s not a genocide, and y’all pounding this drum is making it more and more dangerous for Jews to live in this country,” DeLoach said. “We see the defeat of this resolution not only as a chance for us to start just electing Democrats, but as a hopeful pause, at least, if not a stop to this horrible rhetoric.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post North Carolina Democrats reject Gaza genocide resolution following campaign by Jewish caucus appeared first on The Forward.
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Tidbits: For the first time, a kosher restaurant has won a Michelin star
Tidbits is a Forverts feature of easy news briefs in Yiddish that you can listen to or read, or both! If you read the article and don’t know a word, just click on it and the translation appears. Listen to the report here:
צום ערשטן מאָל געווינט אַ כּשרער רעסטאָראַן אַ „מישעלין־שטערן“
ייִט״אַ. — ווען מע האָט באַשאָטן דעם ישׂראלדיקן קוכער רז שבתי (ראַז שאַבטײַ) מיט קאָנפֿעטי האָט ער זיך ממש צעוויינט — און זײַנע מיטאַרבעטער האָבן אים וואַרעם אַרומגענומען.
מיט עטלעכע מינוט פֿריִער האָט מען געמאָלדן, אַז זײַן רעסטאָראַן אין מיאַמי, וואָס הייסט „מוטראַ“, איז געוואָרן דער ערשטער כּשרער רעסטאָראַן צו באַקומען אַ „מישעלין־שטערן“ — דעם גרעסטן כּבֿוד אין דער רעסטאָראַן־אינדוסטריע.
„דאָס איז אַ מאָמענט פֿון שׂימחה און פֿון שטאָלץ,“ האָט שאַבטײַ געזאָגט דער ייִדישער טעלעגראַפֿישער אַגענטור. „דעם שטערן באַקומט נישט בלויז ׳מוטראַ׳, נאָר דאָס גאַנצע ייִדישע פֿאָלק.“
שבתי, וואָס האָט שוין געאַרבעט אין אַ צאָל קיכן איבער ניו־יאָרק און ישׂראל, האָט געעפֿנט „מוטראַ“ אין פֿעברואַר 2025, געבנדיק דעם רעסטאָראַן אַ נאָמען נאָך זײַן ירושלים־געבוירענער באָבען, וועמעס קאָכן האָט אינספּירירט זײַן מעניו.
„איך האָב ליב צו באַצייכענען דאָס עסן אין דעם רעסטאָראַן ווי ׳ירושלימער מאכלים׳ אַנטקעגן ׳מיטל־מיזרחדיקע אָדער ישׂראלדיקע מאכלים׳ ווײַל די טעמען וואָס איך פּרוּוו ברענגען צום טיש זענען די טעמען וואָס זענען פֿאַרבונדן מיט מײַנע זכרונות און מיט מײַנע עקסקורסיעס אין מאַרק מיט דער באָבען,” האָט שבתי געזאָגט. „איך דאַרף זײַן געטרײַ די פּאָטראַוועס וואָס די באָבע האָט מיך געהאָדעוועט.“
אַ באַשרײַבונג פֿונעם רעסטאָראַן אויף דער „מישעלין“־וועבזײַט לויבט זײַנע „פּרעכטיקע בוריקעס אין ‘אַהאָ בלאַנקאָ’ (אַ קאַלטע זופּ געמאַכט פֿון מאַנדלען, קנאָבל און עסיק)“ און „שאָפֿנפֿלייש־קאָבאַב מיט גערייכערטן פּאַטלעזשאַן־קרעם און פּאָמידאָרן־בוימל“.
אַ דאַנק דער אָנערקענונג איז „מוטראַ“ געוואָרן איינער פֿון די אָנגעזעענסטע רעסטאָראַנען און באַטרעפֿט אַן אמתן ווענדפּונקט פֿאַר דער כּשרער קיך. פֿאַר שבתי, וואָס האָט אָנגעהויבן היטן כּשרות מיט מער ווי 10 יאָר צוריק, איז די פּרעמיע אַ קלאָרער באַווײַז, אַז קולינאַרע אויסגעצייכנטקייט קען בליִען אין די ראַמען פֿון דער כּשרער קיך.
„איך האָף אַז די דערגרייכונג וועט אינספּירירן אַנדערע כּשרע קוכערס,“ האָט ער געזאָגט.
צו זען דעם אַרטיקל אויף ענגליש, גיט אַ קוועטש דאָ.
To see the article in English, click here.
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Jewish witchcraft isn’t as weird as it sounds
Madonna, incongruously, may be largely responsible for introducing the public to a mystical, magical image of Judaism — one that went beyond old men bent over books, studying laws for keeping kosher or Shabbat. Her red string bracelet and her studies of kabbalah gave the religion a new air of mystery and occultism.
But Judaism has always been full of mystical, magical traditions. Jews made amulets to protect against the evil eye, or for luck and prosperity. They beseeched and pacified the dead. Rabbis wrote protective charms for their flock. Psychics and palm readers told the fortunes of Jews and non-Jews alike.
A new exhibit, “Jews are Magic: Occult Practices from Palmistry to Psychics” from YIVO and the Center for Jewish History, delves into the history of the occult in Ashkenazi Judaism. The display, which pulls from YIVO’s archives, has examples of occultism drawing from two Jewish communities: the shtetl and the city.
One side of the exhibit showcases letters to great rabbis asking for blessings and remedies, as well as written spells and amulets protecting against demons like Lilith. The other features photos and biographies of professional Jewish clairvoyants and fortune tellers, who worked mostly in urban areas serving both Jews and gentiles with seances, palmistry and the like, advertising in newspapers and performing on stages.
It’s a lot to cover, and it’s complicated not only by the history but by a quote from Deuteronomy, highlighted in the exhibit. It explicitly forbids those who “useth divination” as well as those who are an “enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard or a necromancer.” It is a comprehensive list, and doesn’t mince words, calling all of these magicians “an abomination.” Yet even great rabbis and Talmudists wrote charms. How could magic be so pervasive in Judaism when it is so expressly prohibited?
This is the fundamental question of the exhibit, but the show is small and has limited space to fully examine the contradictions. Its artifacts span so much time that it is difficult to intuit the connections between, say, Terfren Laila — a traveling psychic born Else Terese Frenkel who wore a ruby-adorned turban and pretended to be from Singapore by way of India (despite her Yiddish accent) — and letters asking a Talmud scholar to heal a loved one.
Thankfully, to open the exhibition, YIVO held a panel discussion between two scholars, Rokhl Kafrissen, an expert in Ashkenazi women’s folk magic, and Samuel Glauber, whose expertise is Jewish occultism in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Moderated by YIVO’s Eddy Portnoy, the panelists discussed the ways that superstitions arose in shtetls and were mined by those looking to make a few shekels.
Kafrissen explained that magic was a normal part of Jewish life for centuries, largely practiced by women; their domain was the home, encompassing everything from health to wealth, including charms and remedies. And just because these women’s rituals weren’t a “normative” part of Judaism — which is to say, institutional or recorded by official religious texts — they were certainly a normal part of life. Women led rituals such as cemetery measuring, a practice in which string was used to encircle the graveyard while praying and later used to make “soul candles” for Yom Kippur, and removed the evil eye from anyone concerned they had been cursed — what Kafrissen called “everyday Ashkenazi magic.”
But over time, these rituals — long central to Ashkenazi life — were pushed out as some Jewish leaders hoped to modernize their religion. Science rose to take the place of folk magic, and people began to dismiss these practices, which were rarely written down, as mere superstition.
This sense that Judaism was full of magic, however, fed easily into Christian suspicions about Jewish witchcraft, and perhaps encouraged some of the urban psychics and spiritualists to lean on Judaism to increase their mystery.
Glauber’s research focuses on this latter, urban category, a far cry from the shtetl folk magic. These Jewish men and women took part in a craze that enraptured far more than just Jews — seances and fortune-telling were trendy throughout the Victorian era and beyond, and its Jewish performers did not only serve Jews. (Though those suspected to be Jewish were covered hungrily by the Jewish press.) They worked magic on stage and sold their services to eager consumers hoping to speak to the dead or know the future.
Some of these performers tried to hide their Judaism, like the turban-wearing Laila, who managed to become famous enough to tell the fortunes of celebrity clients in Los Angeles and London. Another was trusted by Stalin.
Others, such as Abraham Hochman, were open about their Judaism; Hochman helped the Jewish immigrant community in New York by using his supposed psychic abilities to help women who had arrived in the city find runaway husbands. (The problem was so pervasive that the Forverts had a “Gallery of Missing Husbands” column to do the same.) One branded himself a mystical rabbi, leaning into Judaism’s mystique, which led to an audience, Glauber said, made up mostly of Christian barmaids.
Much of this information discussed by Glauber and Kafrissen is not included in the exhibit, which largely consists of fragments of papers from YIVO’s archives. The end of their discussion touched briefly on yet another rich source of magic: modern Hasidism. But neither the discussion nor exhibit had space to expand on this topic, making it hard to find the throughline between demon-warding amulets and today’s Judaism.
Still, no exhibit or discussion can capture the subject in its entirety. What “Jews are Magic” does best is spark curiosity, and a desire to learn more. That, in itself, is a kind of Jewish magic.
The exhibit ‘Jews are Magic’ is on display from May 26 to Dec. 31 2026 at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in the Center for Jewish History in New York City.
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