Many of us are carrying heaviness right now.
- Dec 23, 2025
- 3 min read
January gives us a little space to breathe after the intensity of the holidays. It is often a quieter month, a time when we check in with ourselves and with one another, and ask what we are carrying forward into the year ahead.
Many of us are carrying heaviness right now.
The murders of 15 souls in Sydney, Australia, on the first night of Chanukah were devastating. They reminded us, painfully, that antisemitism is not something confined to history books or distant places. In recent months, we have seen other antisemitic incidents around the world, some violent, some verbal, some subtle, some brazen. Each one lands with a familiar ache of sadness, anger, fear, and a sense of vulnerability that Jews have known across generations.
It is important to say this clearly and calmly: antisemitism is real, and it deserves to be named. At the same time, it is not the whole story of Jewish life today.
Deborah Lyons, Canada’s former Special Envoy on Preserving Holocaust Remembrance and Combating Antisemitism, has said that, “Antisemitism is a daily reality for too many people from Jewish communities in Canada and around the world.” Lyons’ office in 2025 commissioned Professor Robert Brym to conduct a study on the subject of antisemitism in Ontario K-12 schools. The survey examines the prevalence, nature, and impact of antisemitic incidents in elementary and secondary schools across the province.
Key findings of the survey include:
More than 40% of antisemitic incidents involved Nazi salutes, assertions that Hitler should have finished the job, and similar expressions.
Just over two-thirds of incidents occurred in English public schools, and nearly one-fifth were directed at Jewish private schools. Fourteen percent of incidents occurred in French, Catholic, and non-Jewish private schools.
Nearly three-quarters of antisemitic incidents took place in the Toronto District School Board, the Ottawa-Carleton District School Board, and the York Region District School Board.
Some children insisted that their parents not report an antisemitic incident, fearing it would become public and they would consequently become the target of increased harassment or bullying. Some removed clothing and jewellery with Jewish symbols and Hebrew lettering so they would not be identified as Jewish.
In response to rising antisemitism globally, historian and former US Special Envoy Deborah Lipstadt reminds us what Jews can do: our lives must be rooted in meaning, purpose, and connection, and not only in reaction to pain and negativity. She urges Jews not to let hatred define our lives, saying, “Being Jewish is not something that one does defensively,” and encourages us to continue expressing our Jewish identity openly, even in small ways, like keeping mezuzot on our doorways.
These words affirm that Jewish life is (and ought to be) public, proud, and communal. They call us to act and also to hold fast to our Jewish presence and joy. Jewish tradition has always known this. We do not respond to fear by shrinking our lives; we respond by deepening them.
Chanukah, which just concluded, offers us a powerful image for this moment. The rabbis teach that the Chanukah lights are meant to be placed where they can be seen: at one’s doorway, facing outward toward the public space (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 21b). The light is not hidden away for safety; it is shared. Not loudly, not aggressively, but simply, joyfully, and confidently.
That teaching came alive for me at our recent outdoor Chanukah gathering in Withrow Park on the first night of the festival. DJCers showed up, bundled against the cold and voices lifted together. We stood in a public park and did something deeply meaningful: we lit Chanukah candles. We were visible as proud Jews and allies. I was deeply grateful for the presence of public officials and our multifaith partners, who came to stand with us in support and solidarity. Their presence mattered, and so did ours.
At the Danforth Jewish Circle, our strength comes from how we live Jewishly together: gathering for Shabbat and holidays, learning Torah in ways that help us make sense of the world, singing, questioning, celebrating, and showing up for one another, and teaching our children that Jewish life is something to be cherished, not hidden.
The world can feel unsteady. But Jewish life has always been built not only on survival, but on joy, meaning, and connection. On thriving. Each candle we light and each moment of Jewish presence is an affirmation: we are here, we belong, and we are not alone.
As we move into 2026, may we meet the world with open eyes and open hearts. May we look out for one another and speak honestly when it matters. May we kindle light wherever we go, sing with joy, act with courage, and continue “doing” Judaism warmly, proudly, and together. May our presence, our learning, and our love be a blessing to our homes, our Circle, and our larger Canadian community.
