Second Night • Sparks of Light 5781

Looking at the Bright Side

Sasha Aaron and Tali Wercberger (Grade 10) 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l commented that very often we speak about the two miracles of Chanukah; the miracle of the oil and the miracle of the war. In fact, there is a third thing worth celebrating that does not get a lot of attention. After the destruction of the second Beit Hamikdash, there was a thought by the Jewish communities to abolish the holiday of Chanukah. The holiday of Chanukah was all about rededicating the Beit Hamikdash and then it was destroyed. Why celebrate a holiday that was no longer relevant? This idea was ultimately dismissed because although we no longer had the Beit Hamikdash, we were left with something infinitely more valuable; hope. 

On Chanukah, Jews spend their time with people that they care about while fulfilling the mitzvot and obligations. After the short-lived excitement of the Chanukah candles dies down, most Jews go on to fulfill several other customs. These customs vary from Chanukah parties, eating jelly donuts, playing with dreidels, and singing Chanukah songs. After eight thrilling nights, and a full belly, we go on with regular life. 

So what about this year? It is evident that 2020 is much different than any other year, and it isn’t a difficult task to get upset over what our once joyous holidays have become. Due to the ongoing global pandemic, COVID-19 has not only made a significant change to our daily lives but to our most anticipated holidays as well. Although it is cliche to say, we must look at the brighter side of things.

This year, as we light the Chanukah candles, keep in mind that it is still possible to fulfill the mitzvot with a positive outlook. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that the pandemic has taken a negative toll on each and every one of us. However, as we stand around the Chanukah lights we can use this as a reminder that there is always hope. Just like the Jews had hope when the second Beit Hamikdash was destroyed and continued to celebrate Chanukah, so too should we have hope to overcome the COVID-19 pandemic. Take a lesson from this. This coming Chanukah, remember to have hope as the candles burn bright.

Step Into the Light

Mrs. Shira Lipner (Director of Judaic Studies)

It’s really easy to get bogged down in our routines. Wake up, go to school or work, come home, eat dinner, do our thing and go to bed. Repeat. Sometimes, especially as winter starts to set in, it can feel like the inspiration that we may have felt around the Yamim Noraim has long disappeared, and we’re just doing what has to get done. 

Not by accident does Chanukah come along to break up these long, dark nights. Chanukah has the ability to reignite the passion we want to feel, to reignite that spark that has gone dark. 

The halacha is that the candles can be lit “עד שתכלה רגל מן השוק”, which is loosely translated as “until there is nobody on the street anymore”. But the Sfas Emes teaches that the word “רגל” actually refers to הרגל – routine. Just as when nature was disrupted with the miracle of the oil and the Jewish people left their routines and served Hashem anew with passion, when we light the candles, we are reminding ourselves that we should get rid of the הרגל, the routine in our avodat Hashem, and should constantly strive to serve Hashem with passion.

This Chanukah, let the candles light the fire under you and reignite your passion!

Shabbat Shalom!

A Time to Remember, A Time to Contemplate

Dovid Kark (Grade 10)

Although Pesach is the Chag of asking why, this does not stop the Beis Yosef, Rabbi Yosef Caro, from asking his famous question regarding Chanukah:

ואיכא למידק למה קבעו ח ימים? דכיון דשמן שבפך היה בו כדי להדליק לילה א, נמצא שלא נעשה הנס אלא בז הלילות!

There is to ask, why would the Chachamim establish Chanukah as a holiday of eight days, if there was enough oil to last one day, so the miracle would have only lasted for seven days?! 

There are hundreds of different answers to this question, with entire sefarim dedicated to addressing this, such as Sefer Ner L’Mei’ah and Sefer Yemei Shemonah. One answer which the Beis Yosef himself brings forth is that they divided the one day’s worth of oil into eight parts, filling up each day with one-eighth worth, and this miraculously was enough oil for all the candles. 

Another answer, brought up by the Pri Chadash, is that the first day commemorates the miraculous battle victories. The Sefer HaEshkol thinks that the first day was dedicated towards the fact that the pure oil was even found at all. There was not even enough oil for one night, according to She’eilos D’Rav Achai Gaon. An astonishing answer, said by Sefer Pischei Olam, is that the oil burned for nine days, with the Chag commemorating the last eight.

One of the answers that I find very intriguing is from Sefer Chochmah U’Mussar. He says that the first day is to commemorate the miracle that oil burns at all. We tend to think about seemingly natural things, like regular oil burning and the like, as “normal”, everyday occurrences. We often fail to see, at times, how Hashem is behind and a part of everything, even the most mundane and simplest of things, and Hashem is instrumental to the “natural” aspect of it. However, when we give pause and take a step back from time and reality, we can see that oil burning for one night is equally great and miraculous as oil burning for eight nights, because Hashem plays an integral role in both of them. The Alter of Kelm says that when the Chashmona’im saw how the oil burnt for seven additional days, they realized how the first night was also a miracle, due to the fact that the oil even burned at all.

When we think about Chanukah, we tend to focus on and gravitate towards the big, over the top miracles that happened בימים ההם, but perhaps we should also take a look at the “natural” occurrences constantly happening in our daily lives. The first day of Chanukah, according to this idea, is celebrated in order to make us realize how everything “natural” in the world is truly miraculous, and completely orchestrated by Hashem. Before we jump into thinking about miracles, we should think about the huge role that Hashem plays in our own daily lives, and realize that everything is miraculous, and nothing should be taken for granted.

Chanukah: Actual vs. Potential

Rabbi Pini Sack

The Sages of the Talmud record a classic dispute concerning the Chanukah menorah:

Beit Shammai says: “The first day one lights eight candles and each ensuing day he decreases the amount (the second day seven, the third six, and so on).”

Beit Hillel, on the other hand, says the exact opposite. “On the first day we light one candle and on each ensuing day we increase that amount (the second day two, the third three, and so on).”

Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler in Michtav M’Eliyahu uses this as a springboard for a deeper understanding of Chanukah. A person is generally happy if he comes into money. If he comes into money the next day he is happier still. And so on, the more he gets the happier he becomes. When we hear that a friend has come into money, we are happy for him. When we hear he has come into more money, our happiness doesn’t grow in proportion. Why is there this difference? The answer is, our own success is personal, therefore, our happiness increases. But other people’s success is external to ourselves and therefore fails to arouse our joy to the same degree. 

To further expound the matter, Rabbi Dessler compares this to three levels of the soul, nefesh, ruach and neshama. Someone who experiences the festival on a nefesh level, the lowest level, performs actions by rote; he takes Chanukah for granted and is only capable of superficial actions.

One who is on the intermediate level, ruach, can experience the deeper, more sublime joy, but only for a short time. He gets used to it and then has a tendency to take it for granted. It may have entered his heart for the moment, but it shortly disappears.

For the person whose experience of life is on the neshama level, the highest level, the joy of Chanukah leaves an indelible mark on his soul. His experience is so deep and impressionable that he can always tap into it and build upon it.

We can now apply the analogy to the Talmudic disagreement mentioned at the outset. Beit Shammai say we structure the law according to the average Jew who uses only his nefesh. Therefore, it is logical to start off with eight candles the first day when the novelty of the mitzvah and the flash of inspiration elevate the act for even the average Jew. Since each ensuing day becomes less intense and more routine, we naturally decrease as we go.

Beit Hillel may in fact agree that the majority of Jews experience Chanukah on a lower, nefesh level. However, they say that the law in this case must be groomed according to the minority of individuals who strive for the deepest experience and the greatest spiritual heights. Accordingly, we start off with one candle on the first day and increase each ensuing day. The law reflects the experience of the elevated Jew, whose experience increases with intensity as Chanukah wears on.

From another perspective, Beit Hillel are saying that the law must accommodate human potential – what a person can ideally become, while Beit Shammai reason that law must accommodate reality – the present level on which we actually find ourselves.

In truth, this is the idea of education, “chinuch” in Hebrew. The word chinuch shares the same basic root as the word Chanukah. Chinuch, like Chanukah, ideally is meant to instill in us an image of what we can be – no matter how far from that image we may begin. This is also connected to the other meaning of the word Chanukah, “dedication.” With dedication to an ideal, a vision, we can shoot for the stars and heights previously thought unreachable. After all, that is really the goal of education – not just conveying information, but inspiring within a person a sense of who they can ultimately be.

Jewish law is in accordance with Beit Hillel. We light one candle on the first night and continue increasing and building our potential to the eight candles lit on the last night. Thus, according to this perspective, the law tells us that our first responsibility is to strive for the heights. 

However, the ruling of Beit Shammai must also be taken into account. We need to know ourselves and where we are realistically holding. And we must not lose touch with that reality. The last day of Chanukah should be the apex of experience. But all too often it is not.

Taking both opinions into account we emerge with the following Torah philosophy about life: We should strive to reach the greatest heights, even though they seem just beyond our reach, yet honor the reality of where we are – taking proper precautions, proceeding step-by-step, not depending upon miracles – as we elevate ourselves, stage by stage, on our own spiritual journey.