Last night I was looking forward to today. I was looking forward to returning to St. Paul’s Anglican Church, after two weeks of being ill, and not being able to attend. I always miss going to church, but during Advent I particularly miss it. Advent is probably my favourite church season.

Today is the third Sunday of Advent called Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is just a Latin word for rejoice. Many churches refer to today simply as Rejoice or Joy Sunday. I like the sound flow of Gaudete more than rejoice or joy, and when you’ve spent eight years of your life studying Latin, you’ve got to take advantage of every opportunity that arises to use it.

I went to bed last night, with a good feeling and looking forward to lighting the third Advent candle, the one for joy, that’s on my table top Advent wreath and the first candle, a joyous event, in my menorah. The menorah was a gift from a former flatmate, who appreciated my horrible latkes because I tried to make a Channukah celebration for her when she couldn’t get home to be with family.

I was looking forward to wishing friends a Chag Channukah Sameach!, and reminiscing on FB with my friends about Channukahs past. One of my favourite memories was when Ilanna came to my home and made latkes so we could enjoy the dinner, and then chanted the blessing as we lit the candle. This is one of the times of year that I am so glad that I have been blessed to be active in the interfaith community, and I went to bed happy.

Like many people I wake with my radio alarm. It starts quite softly and gradually the volume increases. This morning, the first words I heard were, “12 killed in a shooting targeting the Jewish community celebrating the first night of Channukah on Bondi Beach, Sydney.” I sat bolt upright. My first response was to pray. I prayed not only for those people in Australia, but for my friends Shelly and his daughters, Paul and Sheilagh, Ilanna, Rebekkah, Judy, Friedelle, Lisa and the very loving people at Beach Hebrew Institute, Adath Israel, and Beth Tzedek synagogues that have always welcomed me with love and open arms. Inviting me to participate as much as I can and helping me to understand what was new to me. After I prayed, I cried. Actually the prayers and the tears probably combined. I continued to cry while I prepared to go to church and celebrate our day of joy.

I have not yet contacted any of my friends. I don’t wish to intrude upon their pain, but I will begin to reach out to them before sundown. I just wish to let them know I love them, and I am here to stand with them.

I have always experienced Channukah as the Jewish holiday that people are happy to share. Rather than gathering in their homes to celebrate, this holiday is taken into the community and others are invited to join in. As someone once said to me, “We love to share our candles, our calories, our music, our fun.”

My favourite Channukah song was written by Peter Yarrow, of Peter, Paul and Mary. It is called Light one Candle. This year, in particular, the chorus is very appropriate:

Don’t let the light go out.
It’s lasted for so many years.
Don’t let the light go out
Let it shine through our love and our tears

Tonight I will light the third Advent candle on my table and I will say Gaudium Omnibus. I will also light the first candle in my menorah and say Chag Channukah Sameach. I will do the best I possibly can to keep the light shining bright.