Dear family of friends,
Hanukkah doesn’t begin this year until the end of December, but the season of darkness is already upon us, and we find ourselves in need of kindling lights. In this time of year when the nights are at their longest, we can draw inspiration from the Maccabees.
The Talmud tells us that when the Greeks took over the Temple in Jerusalem, they defiled the stores of oil set aside for the Eternal Light of the sanctuary. When the Maccabees took it back, they searched high and low, and only found enough undefiled oil to light the lamp for one day. They chose to light it anyway, and a miracle occurred — that one small can of oil lasted for eight whole days — long enough to press new oil and continue maintaining the Eternal Light. In commemoration of that miracle, our festival of Hanukkah lasts for eight nights.
The natural response to hearing this story is to focus on the unexpected miracle of endurance: the lamp that should have gone out continued to burn! The Talmud tells of the literal-minded Rabbi Shammai, who lit eight candles the first night, and removed a flame each night to parallel the slowly decreasing oil. The tradition rejects this practice, and instead follows Rabbi Hillel, who began with one flame, and increased by one each night to mark the growing miracle that must have felt more and more amazing with each passing day. The principle, according to Hillel, is that one should always raise holiness, and never subtract from it.
But what of the days before the miracle? What of the decision of the Maccabees to go ahead and light the lamp, even though by their estimate, the oil would run out the next day? What a leap of faith it must have been to take that risk and say: this needs to be done! If we run out tomorrow, so be it. At least we did what we could, and brought light and holiness to the world with the means that were available to us.
And so, when the shadows are at their deepest, we dare to begin kindling lights, and together we re-create the miracle of bringing holiness into a world that seems bleak and profane. My wish for us all, this Hanukkah season, is that we have the courage to bring even the smallest light to the world when we can, and may all the lights we light be magnified eight-fold and more.
Chag Urim Sameach,
Happy Hanukkah,
~ Reb Josh
