Yael Diena and Gila Grauer, Grade 10
On Chanukah, we light the Menorah for eight days to commemorate the miracle in the Beit HaMikdash, where a small jug of oil meant to last only one day burned for eight days. The custom is to use olive oil to light the candles, as they used in the Beit HaMikdash. The question is, why specifically was olive oil used in the Beit HaMikdash as opposed to a different type of oil?
The simple answer is that olive oil creates the nicest flame, but perhaps there is a deeper meaning behind the use of olive oil.
The Midrash Rabba tells a parable of a king whose legions rebelled against him, except for one who stayed faithful. The king, therefore, took the faithful legion as his rulers and governors. When all the creatures of the world rebelled against Hashem in the times of Noach, only the olive tree stayed faithful. Thus, Hashem rewarded the olive tree in two ways: He chose the olive tree to bring light into the world every day in the times of the Beit HaMikdash and every year on Chanukah in modern times, through us using its oil for the Menorah. In addition, after the Mabul, the dove brought an olive branch to Noach as a sign that there was still life on Earth.
In what context did the olive tree stay faithful to Hashem during the Mabul?
The Radal (Rabbi David Luria) explains that in the time of Noach, not only were humans corrupt, but plants and animals were as well. In particular, plants and animals engaged in the forbidden behaviour of Kilayim (crossbreeding), where different animal species would mate with each other, and one plant species would graft itself onto another. The olive tree was the only species that didn’t follow this corrupt behaviour and remained pure, even when plants around it crossbred. It didn’t try to change the way it was created by Hashem and stayed uncontaminated by other plant species. Because the olive tree trusted in Hashem and didn’t sin by crossbreeding, Hashem made it the symbol of renewal and recreation after the Mabul. The olive tree is forever rewarded for its resistance to corruption and steadfastness to Hashem by being the plant that we use to do a mitzvah and the plant that brings light into the world year after year.
Throughout all the pressure and violence inflicted on our nation during the Greek period, we stayed strong and never lost our faith. When we look at the olive oil burning bright on Chanukah, we should remind ourselves that the olive tree is a symbol of courage and resistance. Just like the olive tree withstood the pressure from others to go against Hashem and stayed faithful, so too should we remember to stay faithful to Hashem and let the light on Chanukah inspire us to do good.
Chag Sameach!
Illuminating The World
Mrs. Rina Deutsch
There’s a short video I saw a little while ago that really left an impact on me. In it, a man is holding two lighters and showing how they each produce a flame with the word “person” hovering over each one.
He then takes one of the lighters and puts it in a glass. Next, he takes another glass full of water and begins to pour water into the glass with the lighter with phrases like “childhood trauma,” “trouble making friends,” “bullying,” “perfectionism,” “anxiety,” “depression” and “loneliness” popping up as the water pours in, covering the lighter. He raises the glass to the camera, the lighter fully submerged, with the words “Sometimes life is hard” appearing on the screen.
When he takes the lighter out of the water, he demonstrates how it will not produce a flame no matter how many times he strikes it. The words “At some point, and for some reason, people lose their spark” are superimposed in this image.
He then takes the lighter that stayed dry and shows how it still produces a flame. He keeps this flame going for a few seconds while trying to strike the other light, which is still not working with the words “And sometimes…” across that.
And then he does something amazing: he strikes the waterlogged lighter right next to the flame of the other lighter, and it lights up. “All we need is a little help from a friend” is the last phrase that comes up on the image of the two flames, side by side, before the video ends.
Chanukah is the festival of light. We celebrate and publicize the miracle of the oil that lasted for eight days when it should have only lasted for one and the victory of the small, weak group of Jewish fighters against the enormous, strong Greek army.
We also celebrate the light itself. The way just one small light can dispel so much darkness. The way one flame can share its light with another without losing any of itself. And this video made me think of something else to focus on and celebrate this Chanukah: the light of friendship.
It’s so true that there are so many things that can conspire to cause us to lose our spark. Today’s stresses seem to be never-ending, and they can seem to take everything out of us. However, if we can find another flame to come close to, someone who will offer us compassion, acceptance, love, and support, not only may we reclaim our spark, we may be able to find our own inner flame again.
And imagine if we could be that flame for someone else, that safe space, someone to embrace them and let them know that they aren’t alone in this world?
As we take in the Chanukah lights this year, let’s reflect on the people in our lives who can help us light our flames or those whose flames we can help light. Because if one little light can dispel a lot of darkness, all of our lights together can illuminate the world.
Yosef and the Amazing Technicolour Coincidence
Noam Eizicovics
In Judaism, we don’t believe in coincidences – everything is the way it is for a reason. But with this in mind, something seems a little fishy about the parsha that falls on Chanukah every single year, Parshas Miketz.
You would expect a parsha like this to have an obvious connection to Chanukah that jumps out at you. Instead, Miketz focuses on Yosef’s dream interpretations and his encounters with some familiar faces. Fat cows and goblets instead of oil and jelly donuts. A Chanukah-themed parsha would seem a lot more fitting. Take Beha’alotcha, for example, which discusses the lighting of the Menorah. Why couldn’t that have been used? At the end of the day, why did it have to be Miketz; what is so special about it?
To understand the significance of Parshas Miketz, we need to first grasp the meaning of Chanukah.
So, what is Chanukah?
Besides indulging in sufganiyot and having shorter school days, Chanukah is a time when we commemorate the miracles that Hashem created for Am Yisrael during the time of Second Beit HaMikdash. The olive oil that was only enough to burn for one day miraculously lasted for eight, and the underdog Maccabees defeated the Greeks despite being heavily outnumbered. But all in all, Chanukah is the story of Am Yisrael resisting Greek assimilation and sticking to their roots. The Jews stayed true to Hashem despite encroaching Hellenistic values.
To circle back, what does this theme of Chanukah, the idea of resisting assimilation and trusting in Hashem, have to do with Miketz, and how does the parsha we read every Shabbos Chanukah exemplify this?
Look no further than Yosef and his experiences throughout his rise to second in command. Yosef is not only exposed to Egyptian culture and tradition, but he actually experiences them, and still remains loyal to Hashem. After interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams, Pharaoh gives Yosef his signet ring, a fine robe, and a gold chain. He continues to treat Yosef very nicely, and gives him an Egyptian name and an Egyptian wife. For someone as integrated into Egyptian society as Yosef was, he clearly has good reason to stray from his trust in Hashem and turn to Egyptian ways. His new identity and beliefs wouldn’t be too shabby, especially after the darker times he was only now recovering from.
Just like the Chanukah story, Yosef’s belief and trust in God miraculously trump the outside pressure of opposing religions and beliefs. While interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams, Yosef constantly gives credit to Hashem for being the interpreter, not himself.
The pasuk says, וַיַּ֨עַן יוֹסֵ֧ף אֶת־פַּרְעֹ֛ה לֵאמֹ֖ר בִּלְעָדָ֑י אֱלֹהִ֕ים יַֽעֲנֶ֖ה אֶת־שְׁל֥וֹם פַּרְעֹֽה; And Joseph replied to Pharaoh, saying, “Not I; but God will give an answer [that will bring] peace to Pharaoh.” (Gen. 41:16)
Yosef also recognizes Hashem when he names both his children, saying how “God has caused me to forget all my toil and all my father’s house.” when naming Menashe, and “God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction.” when naming Ephraim. (Gen. 41:51-52)
Even as Yosef rises to the top of Egyptian society, he doesn’t forget the source of his success. This lesson never gets old. We may excel in the outside world, but Chanukah is a time to look out at that world from inside our homes, bathed in the glow of the candles. Just like their dancing flames, we, too, can rise, so long as we remain tethered to our roots.
Chanukah Sameach!
