We Will Dance Again — But Not Blindly

Between Sukkot and Simchat Torah, the Jewish people live in a rhythm of fragility and faith. We dwell in temporary shelters, then step into eternal covenant, dancing with the Torah as though nothing could ever shake us. Yet this year, that dance feels suspended — a breath held since October 7.

On the day meant for joy, music turned to sirens. At the Nova music festival, young Jews came together to dance and were murdered for being alive, for being Jewish. Almost two years later, as the world speaks of cease-fires and negotiations, we are still waiting to bring home our sons and daughters — to dance again, not at a concert, but in a circle of life.

Israel stands once more at an excruciating crossroads. Hamas demands new concessions, new releases of the very terrorists whose hands are stained with the blood of innocents. The world debates with distance, but Israel bears the unbearable choice — to release killers in order to save even one captive. Yet our Torah does not hesitate: “Whoever saves one life, it is as if they have saved an entire world.”

Our enemies interpret compassion as weakness. But to choose life — pikuach nefesh — is our strength, the moral heartbeat of Am Yisrael. We do not worship death; we sanctify life, even when it breaks us.

There is a story told from the Holocaust: Jews in hiding on Simchat Torah, bereft of a Sefer Torah, lifted their children and declared, “Our children are our Torah.” They danced with them in the darkness. Today that image returns — not as metaphor, but as memory and mission. We pray to lift our children again, whole and free, not as symbols of survival but as the living scrolls of our people.

This Simchat Torah, Israel may still be negotiating in the shadow of evil. Yet the sukkah remains standing — fragile walls, open roof, infinite faith. We decorate in blue and white, because we are one people with one beating heart. And we whisper the promise that has carried us through exile, persecution, and war: Am Yisrael Chai.

We will dance again — not blindly, not forgetting, but because joy is our defiance and life itself is our victory.