Edited by: TJVNews.com

On October 7, 2025, the Jewish calendar will once again carry the unbearable weight of memory. Two years after the Hamas massacres that left more than 1,200 Israelis murdered and 251 kidnapped, Jewish communities around the world feel an instinctive pull toward mourning. Yet this year, grief collides with halachic reality: October 7 falls on the opening day of Sukkot, a holiday on which Jewish law forbids public mourning.

In New York City, the response to this paradox will be as bold as it is deeply traditional: joy instead of grief, celebration instead of silence. Organizers expect more than 10,000 participants to fill the Great Lawn of Central Park for a massive gathering called the “Circle of Unity.” The event will embody the resilience of a people who, even in the shadow of tragedy, assert life, faith, and permanence.

Jewish tradition is explicit: the festival of Sukkot is a time of simchah, joy, and trust in divine providence. Public mourning is prohibited. That rule, which would normally pass unnoticed in the rhythm of the Jewish year, now defines the second anniversary of the Hamas massacre.

For Rabbi Yosef Wilhelm, one of the leading figures behind the event, the halachic constraint has become an opportunity. “We cannot mourn on Sukkot,” he explained in conversations with community leaders. “But we can celebrate life for those who were denied it. We can dance for those who can no longer dance.”

This theological pivot has animated the event’s message: Jewish grief cannot be erased, but it can be transformed into a public declaration of Jewish strength and unity.

The Circle of Unity is being spearheaded by the same network of young leaders and activists who coordinated last year’s historic October 7th Torah dedication in Manhattan, the largest in the city’s history. That event drew thousands into the streets for a communal act of remembrance and renewal.

This year’s initiative has taken shape through a web of Chabad Houses, activist circles, and grassroots community organizers. At the center are Rabbi Wilhelm, Jewish activist Yair Klyman, and a coalition of local rabbis, philanthropists, and lay leaders.

What began as a grassroots campaign has gained national visibility. On social media, Jewish influencers and activists have turned the Circle of Unity into a rallying cry, urging young Jews to show up in person and demonstrate visible pride. Short videos—featuring mitzvah challenges, personal testimonies, and invitations—have gone viral, amplifying the reach of the event far beyond New York.

The event’s choreography is designed with Sukkot’s rituals in mind. Organizers will provide lulav-and-esrog sets for participants to shake in unison, enacting the festival’s central mitzvah as a public affirmation of faith. Alongside, celebrants will receive festive flags, creating a sea of color and movement across the Great Lawn.

At its peak, participants will form a literal circle encircling the Great Lawn, a living embodiment of Jewish unity and continuity. For organizers, the symbolism is deliberate: an unbroken circle of Jewish life that no massacre, no act of terror, can shatter.

Support for the Circle of Unity has extended beyond grassroots circles. Major Jewish organizations—including the Jewish National Fund, the Israeli-American Council, and the Hostage and Missing Families Forum—have formally backed the event. Their involvement underscores how the Circle of Unity has become a touchstone for Jewish resilience, bridging institutional and grassroots energy.

Philanthropist Dan Loeb’s Simchas Torah Challenge, which has encouraged thousands of Jews to take on daily Torah study in memory of those murdered on October 7, 2023, has also converged with the event. Together, these initiatives reflect a broader shift: transforming trauma into commitment, and mourning into mitzvah.

Local politicians, Jewish leaders, and cultural figures are also expected to attend, adding civic and symbolic weight.

For many organizers, the decision to hold the Circle of Unity in Central Park—rather than behind synagogue walls or in private halls—is itself a statement. In the past two years, some Jewish institutions have opted for quieter, smaller-scale commemorations of October 7, often citing safety concerns amid rising antisemitism.

The Circle of Unity represents a conscious break with that instinct. “We are not retreating,” one activist told reporters. “This is the opposite of fear. This is Jewish life lived publicly, joyfully, unapologetically.”

Media outlets have noted a broader trend: Jewish communities, especially younger activists, are increasingly framing public religious expression as an act of defiance against antisemitism. The Circle of Unity embodies this ethos by taking one of the most public stages in New York City and turning it into a platform for Jewish pride.

Sukkot is often described as Judaism’s most outward-facing festival. Unlike Yom Kippur, which is marked by introspection, Sukkot emphasizes visibility: Jews build temporary outdoor huts, wave palm branches and citron fruit, and recite prayers under open skies.

This visibility—fragile, temporary, yet deeply joyous—has taken on new meaning in the wake of October 7. For participants in the Circle of Unity, shaking the lulav and esrog in Central Park will not only fulfill a mitzvah but also serve as a collective act of resilience, demonstrating faith in divine justice and commitment to Jewish permanence.

For survivors, hostage families, and many others, the pain of October 7 remains raw. The second anniversary has dredged up difficult memories: unanswered questions, the fates of hostages, and the enduring scars of violence.

The Circle of Unity does not erase that grief. Instead, it reframes it. “Joy on Sukkot does not mean forgetting October 7,” Rabbi Wilhelm has said. “It means refusing to let our enemies dictate our spirit. It means showing that even after the darkest day since the Holocaust, Jewish life goes on—and it is celebrated.”

This tension between memory and joy is not new in Jewish tradition. Throughout history, Jewish communities have found ways to transform tragedy into resilience. The Circle of Unity continues this legacy, demonstrating how halacha, ritual, and public witness can converge to meet the needs of a wounded yet unbroken people.

Organizers believe the event will reverberate far beyond Central Park. “This isn’t just for the 10,000 who will be there in person,” activist Yair Klyman said. “This is a message to Jews everywhere: you are not alone, and Jewish life is vibrant and unafraid.”

The event’s visibility is expected to generate significant media coverage, particularly given the anniversary’s symbolic weight and the recent uptick in antisemitic incidents in the United States and abroad.

Observers also note that the Circle of Unity offers a new model for Jewish public life: one that blends halachic integrity, grassroots energy, and large-scale public celebration.

As October 7 approaches, Jewish communities worldwide will once again wrestle with grief, memory, and fear. But in New York City, on the Great Lawn of Central Park, thousands will choose another path. They will dance, sing, and celebrate, transforming mourning into resilience.

In forming a circle of unity, they will declare a truth that echoes across generations: that Jewish life endures, that joy defies terror, and that memory itself can be an act of resistance.

On Sukkot, mourning is forbidden. But dancing—dancing for those who can no longer dance—becomes a sacred duty.