Faith & Values: Understanding Hanukkah and bringing light into the world

Tonight is the third night of Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights. For at least the last several decades, Hanukkah has become one of the most widely-observed and celebrated Jewish holidays. It is common for even the most secular of American Jews to celebrate Hanukkah in some way. Therefore, I think it’s important for us all to understand some of what Hanukkah is and what it isn’t, and to recognize some of what it has become for many contemporary American Jews.

The first part of the story of Hanukkah is told in the Biblical books Maccabees I and II. These two books are not included in the Hebrew Bible, primarily because the Hebrew Bible was canonized centuries before the story of Hanukkah took place, starting in 168 BCE. The New Testament (which Jews refer to as the Christian Bible) was canonized much later than that. At that time, Greek culture — which was a very different way of living than what was practiced in ancient Israel — was prominent throughout the Middle and Near East. When King Antiochus of Syria sent his army to capture the neighboring kingdom of Israel, they found some citizens who were willing to fully change their way of life to match that of the invaders, some who were willing to partly assimilate, and others who were completely resistant to this new culture that was being imposed upon them.

Those who were completely resistant started a rebellion against the invaders, and they were led by a family whose oldest son Judah was known as the Maccabee, a word derived from the Aramaic word for hammer. Although they were highly outnumbered by the Syrian army, Judah and his followers managed to fight off the invaders, winning the war and reclaiming their country for their people and their way of life. Our understanding is that the Maccabees were extremely zealous in not wanting their countrymen to adopt the Greek culture of their enemies in any way, and that they might not appreciate the fairly assimilated way in which most Western Jews live today. Their zealotry is problematic to us, but we instead focus on and celebrate other components of their story.

Having spent almost 2,000 years without there being a Jewish country in the world, the victory of the Maccabees resonates as a rare instance when our ancestors successfully fought for their autonomy. At a moment when so may of us are under attack for simply being who we are — antisemitic incidents in the United States have increased by approximately 380% over the last two months — this part of the Hanukkah story is particularly meaningful to many Jews.

The second part of the story is the miracle of the oil. This story tells that when the Maccabees successfully reclaimed the Temple (the absolute center of religious life in ancient Israel) from the Syrians, the first thing they did was to rekindle the Eternal Light, an indoor lamp that was always kept lit, and which can be found in different forms in synagogue sanctuaries today. There was only enough consecrated oil to last for one day, and the person they sent to find more took eight days to return — during which time the lamp miraculously stayed lit. This story is not contained in Maccabees, but instead is told in the Talmud, the compendium of ancient rabbinic debates, stories and laws upon which most post-Temple Jewish practice is based (the two different versions of the Talmud were written and codified between 200 and 500 CE, and would require an entire column of its own to explain more clearly).

The miracle of the oil added a supernatural element to the story of the Maccabees, giving us a clearly defined miracle and two tangible symbols to celebrate — the oil itself, and the menorah, the lampstand that held the oil (the menorah in the Temple had seven branches, and was a symbol of the Temple and of Judaism itself. The Hanukkah Menorah has nine branches: one for each day of the holiday and one for the shamash, the helper candle that is used to light the others).

The Hebrew word Hanukkah means dedication, and the holiday came to be as much about the miracle of the oil and the rededication of the Temple as about the Maccabees’ military victory. Today, the primary ritual practices of Hanukkah involve eating foods cooked in oil, primarily potato pancakes (called latkes) and donuts (which are the primary symbolic Hanukkah food eaten in Israel), and lighting the menorah each night. All of these remind us of the relatively small yet very consequential miracle of the oil, encouraging us to celebrate the smaller yet consequential miracles that take place in our lives and to consider how we can rededicate our lives to what is truly important.

The intricacies of the Jewish calendar result in Hanukkah always taking place within a few weeks of the winter solstice, literally the darkest time of the year. After a healthy debate, the rabbis who developed the custom of lighting the menorah during Hanukkah decided that we should kindle one additional light for each night of the holiday, which means that every Jewish person who lights a menorah is literally bringing more light into the world at a particularly dark moment. I think that for many of us, this powerful physical symbol has become one of, if not the, most important parts of the holiday.

Hanukkah has many fun traditions. During its eight days, Jewish people eat tasty foods and gather together to light the menorah and celebrate. We play games based on the holiday (the four Hebrew letters on dreidels, the tops that are played with during Hanukkah, spell out the sentence “a great miracle happened there”) and we sing all kinds of songs about the holiday — some are quite reverent, and some are just plain fun. But at moments of darkness in our lives and in the world around us, I think that the instruction that Hanukkah gives each of us to literally increase the amount of light in the world, both physically and metaphorically, is the most powerful opportunity and teaching that this festival has to offer. This light is for all of us, and it is our privilege to share it with everyone who passes a menorah during Hanukkah.

It is my most fervent wish — one that I’m sure I share with so many of you — that this holiday season can be a time of diminished darkness and increased illumination in our lives and in the world around us. Please join your Jewish friends and neighbors in bringing more light into the world during this dark moment. If you’d like to join the Peninsula Jewish community for a public menorah lighting, everyone is invited to attend the public lighting that will take place at the gazebo at the end of Main Street in New Town on the last night of Hanukkah, Thursday, Dec. 14, starting at 6 p.m.

My family and our community and I wish all of you a very happy Hanukkah.

David Katz is the rabbi at Temple Beth El of Williamsburg.