Hanukkah: The Inside Scoop

Every thing and event is a paradigm.  Judaism believes that we inhabit two planes at once.  One plane is the level of what we deem to be physical reality; the things that we work for and do.  This plane is where we labor for income, save for the future, agonize over missed opportunities…   The other plane is the metaphysical realm.  This is the universe of paradigm.

You know the story of Hanukkah well, at least on the first level, or plane.  Let us take a look at the other view of Hanukkah, the paradigm view.

Hanukkah is about the struggle for independence.  It speaks to the notion of religious and personal challenge, overcoming obstacles.  For the ill, Hanukkah is a time when God shows that hope exists even when we feel hopelessness.  It is a fight against apathy and an empty, vapid existence.  Any time we fight for others or ourselves who cannot defend themselves, the spirit of Hanukkah is invoked.

Lighting the candles involves using the shamash, the worker candle, to bring light to the rest.  Implicit in using the shamash to light the others is the idea that we bring redemption to one another.  Even though the shamash looks identical to the rest, it is needed to fulfill the mitzvah of the candles, or bring wholeness to the event.  Each of us is needed to restore balance.

One of the mitzvot of Hanukkah is to place the Hanukiah in the window to show that we are proclaiming the miracle of long ago.  We have remained faithful and we advertise this publicly.  A Jew needs community.  We encourage one another, and ourselves, when we place the Hanukkiah in a conspicuous place.  The great miracles of God and the quieter ones too, like birth and health and breath need to be acknowledged and shared.  It makes life more meaningful.

The dreidle that we spin had four letters scribes on each side, nun, gimel, hay, shin, which has the numerical equivalent of mashiach, messiah.  We spin the dreidle in the hopes of winning, never really knowing which letter will turn up.  So we play the game of life and expectations, ever hoping that the dreidle will be spun revealing our ultimate salvation.

On the Shabbat of Hanukkah we read from the book of Zechariah which states the antithesis of the story that we tell, “Not my might, nor by power but by My spirit, says the Lord of Hosts” (4:6)  True strength, the prophet implies, comes not from raw strength or largesse.  It is something infinitely greater.  God’s spirit and the wonderful endowment that we all possess is the real source of our strength.  The soul triumphs over human adversity as it contains an endless reservoir of resiliency.

Enjoy the warmth of Hanukkah.  It is the holiday of lights, both internal and external.

 

The Light

La’yehudim hayta ora v’simha, “The Jews had light and joy” during the celebration of Purim.

So does this mean that our ancestors lit fires in their homes, kindling every wick available?  Not likely.  

Light has many associations.  A few of them have to do with physical light.  A great many of them have to do with sacred or metaphysical light.  Torah, for example, gives off light.  Torah Orah, they call it, the illumination of the sacred.

When immersed in Torah the Sanctuary becomes bathed in light.  Have you ever witnessed the faces of those in the Sea of Light?  It is not unusual to see someone aflame on the holy Shabbat.

As we pore over ancient texts on Shabbat or during the week sometimes feel the dizzying effect of absorbing the many layers of the meaning of the glory of the Torah when at one with the holy Text.  This is the wonder of the day of Purim. Like the initial observance when the Jews of Shushan long-ago first breathed freedom from the heinous machinations of Haman, their souls were drenched with light.

Long ago, when the Jews were under the Ottoman rule in Palestine the inhabitants of the northern city of Safed were warned to keep their homes dark at night.  Each evening a blanket of bluish hue gathered through the ancient street and byways of Safed.

The windows of Rabbi Joseph Caro, however, glowed. It as was if the venerable and wise rabbi became more defiant as the light grew in intensity with successive night.  The Pasha’s guards brought to him news of the disobedient Jew.

Ordering his carriage to be brought, the Pasha rode to the site to oversee the punishment of the transgressor himself.  It was true, the rabbi’s windows were glowing with light.  Forcing open the door, the Pasha’s guards opened the door to let the Pasha enter. 

There sat Rabbi Caro bent over a fraying text.  There was no lamp in the room.  No logs were in the fireplace.  No candles. Yet the room was bathed in light.

The Pasha was wide-eyed as he saw thousands of tiny fireflies lining he walls of the rabbi’s study.  The sage told the pasha that during the day the little insects flew about but at night they settled on the walls and made the house luminescent.

“Why do these fireflies stay all day in this room rather than frolic in the bright sunlight?” the Pasha asked.

The rabbi paused, looked at the Pasha and answered, “The Torah not only illumines the one who studies it.  It enlightens every living creature that comes near.”

 

And this is your heritage.

 

Top 10 List What a Rabbi Would Love to Hear

10. Nothing inspires and strengthens my commitment to the synagogue like the twice yearly annual meetings.

9. I was so enthralled with the sermon I could’ve listened for another 20 minutes.

8. Personally I find Davenning so much more fulfilling in the golf.

7. Rabbi I’ve decided to give the Synagogue $1000 a month I used to spend on the Home Shopping Network and Amazon.

6. I volunteer to do all the Torah readings throughout the next year. When can I start?

5. That adult education program was the best ever. Please do another one soon!

4. I love it when we sing tunes that I never heard before.

3. Since I am here early let's do some extra praying now.

2. Rabbi, the board has decided to send you to that Talmud Convention in the Bahamas.  Pack your bags.

 1. Hey, it’s my turn to sit in the front row!

 

What Are You?

Our lives consist of two courses of action; that of doing and that of enabling. Most of what we hear about today involves doing. Social scientists urge to make the most of our time, what they call making “quality time.” 

Our acquaintances and colleagues push us to define our value through our work or salary. For example, when people ask, “What do you?”  Isn’t it interesting we invariably respond with our job rather than say, “I am a good father” or “I am a devoted husband?” A person’s life is summed by what they believe is most important and, or, what they have accomplished.

Yet we are great enablers. Some of us are better enablers than others. An enabler is someone that makes something possible. An enabler is the husband who says to his wife, “You are the most wonderful person I have ever met.” Just imagine what she can do with those words. Suddenly she becomes aware of her deep love for her husband and the fact that she is bright and capable. She may turn to a husband and say how much he appreciates his romantic side. Just think what that will do for the relationship! We have both become enablers.

I do not know what the opposite of an enabler is. But there are more anti-enablers among us who wreak havoc. They deprive us wholeness and the potential of what we might become.

What are you?

Hanukkah

Hanukkah and Purim belong to the Oral Torah.  That is, they are not mentioned in the Tanakh (Bible) but are ordained as holy days by the rabbis.  Considering they are non -Biblical holy days we certainly give them a lot of attention!  Why?

 

The Sefat Emet (nineteenth century) teaches that we are always in search of the life energy in each of us. Some go on long journeys to witness great events or places that inspire awe.  Some look for it in their travels to Israel.  We do not have to venture that far, tells the Sefat Emet, “A person must measure him or herself as though the holy being dwells inside.”  

 

The Hebrew word for candle is NeR.  This is an anagram that stands for Nefesh Ruach, the “soul of a being.”  

 

The candles that we light represent our innermost core.  That is why the Hanukkah light inspires us with such affection.  The flickering tiny wicks give off a radiance that is unequal to the lumens they emit.  

 

The lights are sacred as they mirror our soul.  Just like our soul, the bright and many distractions that surround it almost conceal the flame, but those lights on Hanukkah grip us and are deeply profound.

 

They not only cast light, they dispel darkness.  They bring us to a realization of the miracle of our being.

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The Rabbis understood how we are continual witnesses to sacred moments.  And each one of those moments (mo’ed in Hebrew) that we enact, we recreate within ourselves a Sanctuary where the Holy One lives.  In setting our Hanukkiah and lighting the candles we live in that moment, mo’ed, when the first wicks took flame in the Temple 2300 years ago.  That is meaning of the verse, “Let them make Me a Sanctuary and I will live in them.”  Exodus 25:8.  Our souls are joined with each generation of our ancestors even the first Hasmoneans to relight the menorah and are unbounded by place or time.

 

We are blessed with the kind of inherent vision that allows our inner light to perceive true greatness.  You can find in the early part of the morning service, “The soul You have placed within me is pure…”   That is our inner light that connects with the Hanukkah candles.

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So what does this all have to do with the Oral Torah, festivals and events not written in our Tanakh?

 

When you pray with a full heart you are acknowledging the presence of a miracle: God is moving in your life.

 

When you place food in your mouth and utter a beracha, you are allowing your soul to give voice to a miracle of sustenance.  Reading the Talmud recently I was struck by a statement made that the cause of the breakdown of marriages was often an empty pantry.  In that context, consider how rich you are!

 

When someone swerves out of your way because you were not attentive while driving and you return home intact, your life is evidence of a miracle.

 

A prayer: Awaken us to the flickering fire within us, God, so that we can perceive even our next breathe as a miracle.