These past weeks Jews around the world have been reading the story of the Exodus from Egypt. Passover won’t happen until April, but this is where we are in the weekly cycle of readings.

The Bible’s ten plagues culminate with the death of the firstborn. But before that comes darkness.

It wasn’t just any darkness. It was so complete, so intense, so physically heavy, that no one could move.

But it didn’t affect the Children of Israel, who lived in the adjoining city of Goshen. The Torah relates, “They [the Egyptians] saw not one another, nor any rose from his place for three days; but all the people of Israel had light in their dwellings.” (Exodus 10:23)

The obvious question is: Where did the light come from?

I heard a lovely interpretation from a rabbi last night, who said it was the light of the Torah. He acknowledged that the Torah hadn’t been given yet, but that it surrounded them nonetheless.

The rabbi spoke beautifully and movingly about the light of Torah, and how each of us can tap into that light.

And yet, I find myself wondering: What if the people themselves were the source of the light?

So when I visited an assisted living facility today for our weekly Shabbat service, I was curious to hear what my elderly friends would have to say. I asked them, What brings light into your life? Their answers flowed, words tumbling out, one on top of the other: Family. Love. Hope. Freedom. Friends. Faith. God. Companionship. Music. Happiness. Grandchildren. These are the things that give us light in dark times.

When I think of the Exodus story, I think of it as a series of metaphors. The Egyptians were suffering from the plagues and a hard hearted Pharaoh. They were trapped by the darkness, unable to see past it, unable to comfort one another. It was the darkness of depression, melancholy, and fear.

The Children of Israel were beginning to feel hope, to envision a future beyond enslavement. It was the light of freedom and hope that brightened their homes.

That same light has touched many Israeli’s over these past days, as little by little we see the return of people who had been kept hostage in Gaza for over a year. And yes, this has also been a year of darkness and death. Death of soldiers who served in the IDF, death of hostages, death of loved ones who were killed on that awful day in October, 2023. It has been a terribly dark time for our people and for Israel; while we rejoice for those who have been freed, we pine for those still kept captive, and mourn those who were killed.

The Israeli national anthem is called Hatikvah for a reason. It means “the hope.” That hope is the light that beckons us, that holds us in its fierce love, that reminds us to never give in to the darkness.