There’s a photograph that circulates around Jewish pockets of the internet each year during Hanukkah.
It was taken in Germany in 1930, and it shows an elegant menorah sitting in a windowsill, and a massive Nazi flag hanging on a building just outside.
The message is immediately clear: Even during the darkest of days, Jews don’t forget who we are.
Its devotion and defiance, a visceral reminder of the themes of Hanukkah.
Each night of Hanukkah, Jews are called to light the menorah, a reminder of the single cruze of oil that miraculously lasted eight nights in the newly rededicated Temple in Jerusalem over 2,000 years ago.
But there’s more: according to the Talmud, we’re also called to put the menorah somewhere where other people can see it, in our window or even on our front doorstep. (This is where the electric menorah comes in — it’s not just a kitschy accessory to compete with Christmas decorations, it’s a way to publicize the miracle without creating a fire hazard.)
The story of Hanukkah is all about resisting assimilation and proudly reclaiming our heritage.
This year, as Jews around the world reel from the Oct. 7 Hamas attacks, and a sickening surge in anti-Jewish sentiment — on college campuses, in major cities, and across social media — Hanukkah offers not just a balm but an inspiration, if not a call to action.
As we light the candles with our families this week, we get to remember our history but also recommit to our Jewish present, double down on our Jewish identity and pride, and show that now, just as then, we won’t be made to hide who we are or what we believe.
We need the message of Hanukkah more than ever right now, and we need those menorahs burning bright.
Instead we’re seeing cities and communities – such as Williamsburg, Virginia – announcing plans to cancel or downsize their public Hanukkah celebrations.
They’re worried that Hanukkah displays could be vandalized or become sites for protests.
Following swift backlash, most of these decisions have been reversed.
Still, menorahs seem to be persona non grata at many public events this season.
And many Jews, understandably, are shying away from public displays of Judaism that might mark them as targets for antisemitic hate and even violence.
But this is precisely the opposite of what Hanukkah is all about.
This holiday celebrates embracing our particularities — loudly and proudly — and refusing to give up our ancient traditions, especially when the world around us doesn’t feel particularly friendly to Jews.
It’s on us to bring the light this holiday season, to keep the candles burning bright and the Maccabee courage alive.
If it feels a little scary to take all this on right now, maybe it shouldn’t just be on us.
In December 1993, in response to anti-Jewish hate crimes targeting homes with visible menorahs, locals in Billings, Montana hung printed cutouts of menorahs in their own windows to support their Jewish neighbors.
The Billings Gazette published a full-page image of a menorah for readers to tear out and display.
According to reports, there were 6,000 menorahs that season, in a town with 50 Jewish families.
We could use that spirit of solidarity this year.
One effort to encourage non-Jews to display menorahs in their windows this year is Project Menorah, which offers printable menorah images on its website.
They also suggest borrowing or buying a menorah to display at home. In the age of lawn signs proclaiming hate has no place here, campaigns like this seek to affirm that Jews, too, are safe in our own neighborhoods.
It’s a dark moment in Jewish history, and many of us feel the opposite of celebratory.
But Hanukkah is an opportunity for Jews to remember what we stand for, and what we believe in.
We commemorate those who insisted on maintaining their Jewish identity in the face of efforts to quash it, who proudly held onto their traditions and fought to preserve them.
So light those candles, invite your friends and neighbors over, and share your Jewish pride.
This year, we can shine brighter than ever.
It starts with us putting our menorahs — real or paper — in the window for everyone to see.
Stephanie Butnick and Tanya Singer are the hosts of Beautifully Jewish, a celebration of Jewish material culture, which airs monthly on Tablet Magazine’s Unorthodox podcast.
