Lighting Up the Darkness

Transcription

1 Center for Jewish Leadership and Ideas Lighting Up the Darkness Four Divrei Torah for Chanukah from inspiring teachers at Mechon Hadar Lighting Up the Darkness Rabbi Shai Held p. 2 Why Do I Bless Your Candles? Miriam-Simma Walfish p. 7 Courage and Light Rabbi James Jacobson-Maisels p. 12 To Look At, But Not to See Dena Weiss p. 17 Mechon Hadar 190 Amsterdam Ave NY info@mechonhadar.org

2 Lighting up the Darkness: Chanukah as a Spiritual Practice by Rabbi Shai Held We are, all of us, afraid of the dark. At night, anxieties suppressed or repressed come swimming to the surface of consciousness: Am I safe? Am I loved? Am I needed? Is there meaning in the world, or is it all, ultimately, just a swirl of chaos? Darkness suggests peril and instability, the sense that life is fleeting, tenuous, random and senseless. Physical darkness threatens, at least at moments, to conjure existential darkness: it is dark, and I am alone and afraid. The Talmud reports that when Adam and Eve first saw the sun go down, they were panic-stricken, thinking that the setting of the sun was a consequence of their sin, and that this new, intense darkness would spell their death. They spent that entire first night weeping, until dawn broke, and they realized, to their immense relief, that this was simply the way of the world day followed by night, and night followed by day (BT, Avodah Zarah 8a). Nowadays, we are all aware that night is not permanent and that morning, too, will inevitably come. We do not fear that night is an outgrowth of our failures; we worry instead about what darkness suggests and has the power to elicit. We often think of night at least in part in metaphorical terms. Who among us has never had a foreboding akin to Adam s: What if night never ends? What if meaninglessness and loneliness are simply all there is? In winter, as the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer, moods often shift, worries often mount, and hope frequently wanes. 2

3 Yet the same terror that darkness can induce also yields a profound desire to overcome it, not just temporarily but once and for all. Traditionally, when Jews think about the messianic era, we imagine a world without war, strife, or bloodshed. We yearn for a time when the Jewish people will no longer be oppressed or degraded at the hands of its enemies. But the prophet Isaiah goes even further in his yearnings. In the great redeemed future, he announces, No longer shall you need the sun for light by day, nor the shining of the moon for radiance [by night], for the Lord shall be your light everlasting, your God shall be your glory. Your sun shall set no more, your moon will no more withdraw; for the Lord shall be a light to you forever, and your days of mourning shall be ended (Isaiah 60:19-20). Now, in the world as we know it, night and day alternate ( And there was evening, and there was morning, as Genesis repeatedly puts it). But in the days to come, there will be no more night, because God will be our light. Bible scholar Jon Levenson makes a startling observation about the creation story in Genesis 1. Day after day, we hear the same chorus, And there was evening, and there was morning, but on the seventh day, the chorus falls away and there is no mention at all of night. The text may subtly intend to suggest that Shabbat, a foretaste of a world perfected and redeemed, simply has no place for darkness and all its frightful connotations. The reality that [Shabbat] represents God s unchallenged and uncompromised mastery, blessing, and hallowing is consistently and irreversibly available only in the world-tocome. Until then, it is known only in the tantalizing experience of [Shabbat]. 1 In the dreamt-of time to come, then, there will be no wars and no bloodshed, but also no night and none of its attendant dread. 1. Jon D. Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil: The Jewish Drama of Divine Omnipotence (1988), p

4 Judaism does not ask us to ignore the reality of darkness, nor the sense of doom it might educe in us. On the contrary, it asks us to face them squarely, and then, ultimately, to defy them. But how? Like Isaiah, we can dream of a world devoid of darkness, but what should we do in the meantime? In Genesis, God takes Abram outside and says, Look toward heaven, and count the stars, if you are able to count them. And God adds, So shall your offspring be (Genesis 15:5). On the surface, the meaning of God's promise is clear: the children of Abram will be so numerous as to be beyond counting. But the Hasidic master R. Yehudah Leib Alter of Ger ( ), known as the Sefas Emes, offers a very different and arresting interpretation of God's promise. God's promise, he says, is not quantitative but qualitative: to be a Jew is, like a star, to bring light to places of vast darkness. Thus, even and perhaps especially when Israel descends into the darkness of Egypt, its mission is clear to light up the darkness of the most depraved and immoral parts of the world (Shemot, 1878). Let me add one thought to the Sefas Emes comments. In understanding our mission in the world, there is something crucial to keep in mind: stars do not eradicate the darkness, they mitigate it; they do not turn the world into a palace full of light, but rather they shed light in places that would otherwise be consumed by darkness. Similarly, we ought to be wary of the fantasy that human beings can ever remove all darkness from human life. Such notions are chimerical at best and unimaginably dangerous at worst. But to take the covenant between God and Israel seriously is to affirm that we can and must bring light into otherwise abandoned places, that we can bring moments of meaning and companionship to places overrun by heartache and devastation. Isaiah prophesies that God will one day banish all darkness, not that we will. What we can do, what we must do, is to soften the threat of night, to soothe and ease the pain of the world, even though we cannot obliterate 4

5 darkness and eliminate sorrow. Center for Jewish Leadership and Ideas Chanukah 5774 What does all of this have to do with Chanukah? Think for a moment about the central ritual act that marks this holiday. Over the past few weeks, the days have gotten shorter and the nights longer. The other eight-day festivals, Sukkot and Pesach, begin on the fifteenth of the month, when the moon is full. But Chanukah is different: it begins when the moon has all but totally waned, when all that is left in the sky is the slightest sliver of light. We are in one of the darkest periods of one of the darkest months of the year. Darkness is all around us. And what do we do? We light a fire. Not a bonfire, but a small fire first one, then another, and so forth for eight nights. In other words, we do not pretend to be the sun, but only stars. We cannot bring an end to darkness, but we can soften its effects. The soul of man is the lamp of God, the book of Proverbs tells us (20:27). Ultimately, our task is not to light candles, but to be candles. We have the potential to be the bits of light that help bring God back into a world gone dark. As the Sefas Emes puts it, A human being is created to light up this world (Chanukah, 1874). These are nice words, but they are difficult for many of us. In a world overrun with darkness, in a world so suffused with cruelty and callousness, with smugness, and selfcongratulation, and indifference to other people s plight, what can I, with all of my limitations and shortcomings, possibly accomplish? Anticipating this struggle, the Sefas Emes asks a crucial question: why, on Chanukah, do we celebrate a miracle involving a miniscule drop of oil? His answer is stunning, and, if we are to fulfill our covenantal task, we have no choice but to strive to internalize it: In those days the menorah remained lit through the tiny drop of oil they had. And now, too, there is a small point in 5

6 every Jew, which is capable of yielding much light. Even if we feel that our light is minimal, we are asked to remember that our light nevertheless endures. We are asked to we are trusted to bring glimmers of light and hope to places where night seems to be all there is. Chanukah sameach. May the lights we kindle draw forth the light within us, and may we be worthy of Abram s blessing. Rabbi Shai Held is Co-Founder, Dean and Chair in Jewish Thought at Mechon Hadar. He has a PhD in religion from Harvard; his main academic interests are in modern Jewish and Christian thought and in the history of Zionism. His book, Abraham Joshua Heschel: The Call of Transcendence was released on November 11th You can listen to and read more of his Divrei Torah on the weekly parashah at /shaiheld. 6

7 Why Do I Bless Your Candles? Chanukah Candles as a Divine-Human Partnership by Miriam-Simma Walfish In the Rabbis system of blessing, berakhot (blessings) are divided into three primary categories: blessings of enjoyment ( birkot nehenin ) such as those recited before enjoying food or pleasant smells, blessings for commandments ( birkot mitzvah ), in which we indicate our intention to participate in a religious ritual, and blessings of seeing ( birkot re iyah ), in which we proclaim our wonder at the direct sight of God s handiwork in our world. The Talmudic Sage R. Yirmiyah reports a singular commandment that does not fit neatly into the above categories (BT, Shabbat 23a). We are commanded to bless the candles we light on Chanukah, says R. Yirmiyah, but we are also instructed to recite a blessing when see the candles our neighbors have lit: we bless, who performed miracles for our ancestors in those days, at this time. What kind of blessing is this? On the one hand, it is clearly linked to the commandment of lighting the candles. On the other hand, it is a blessing triggered by our seeing this commandment being fulfilled by others. Is it a birkat mitzvah or a birkat re iyah? The medieval commentators disagree. Rashi ( ) claims that the purpose of this blessing is to allow someone unable to light at home the opportunity of a lesser blessing. In a case where for some reason I am unable to light Chanukah candles, at least I can 7

8 participate liturgically by reciting the blessing when I see someone else s. For Rashi, therefore, the blessing for seeing the Chanukah candles is part and parcel (albeit in diluted form) of the birkat mitzvah of candle-lighting itself. Witnessing the candles has no deeper significance than being a less ideal way to participate in the ritual of candle-lighting. Though there is something reassuring about the possibility of partaking in this mitzvah even when I can t perform it as I m supposed to, Rashi s understanding does not take into account the fact that this is the only ritual for which there is the possibility of making up the ritual simply by seeing the results of someone else having performed it. The Tosafot (a school of commentators based in France in the 12th-13th centuries) note this lack and therefore offer an alternative understanding. They conclude that seeing the candles is significant enough to require a blessing because of chavivut ha-nes the uniquely beloved nature of the miracle of Chanukah. The miracle that we celebrate on Chanukah is so special in the communal memory of the Jewish people that it demands greater liturgical recognition than the more common and formulaic birkat mitzvah that accompanies all other mitzvot. By providing this reasoning for the blessing, Tosafot essentially shift the blessing for seeing the Chanukah candles from the category of birkat mitzvah into the category of birkat re iyah. This seemingly legalistic and prosaic change in categories actually has deep implications for our understanding of the lighting that we perform each night of Chanukah. As noted above, blessings of seeing are recited at junctures when one feels God s presence in the world most strongly at the sound of thunder coupled with the sight of lightning, at the sight of a beautiful tree or a striking mountain. If blessing the sight of the candles is a derivative of our commandment to light them, then when we say who performed miracles... we are primarily thinking about the work of our hands, our fulfillment of a commandment to commemorate the past. But if this blessing is in the general category of birkot re iyah, then 8

9 these candles in the here-and-now somehow attest to God s hand in the world. But candles are lit by humans; how then are they evidence of God s presence? In order to answer this question, we must explore the significance of the original Chanukah candles the oil lamps on the menorah in the Temple. R. Sheshet wonders at the nature of the requirement for the high priest to light the menorah nightly (Leviticus 24:3). It cannot be an offering to God; God after all sustained Israel for forty years in the desert with a pillar of fire! R. Sheshet notes that the verse also reports the location of the lamps outside the parochet ha-edut the curtain of witnessing. The word witnessing signifies that the Temple menorah attested to humankind that God dwells in the Temple, among the people of Israel. A reciprocity begins to emerge; God sustained the people of Israel in the desert by means of (among other miracles) a pillar of fire by night we mirror this act by lighting a menorah in God s Temple (BT, Shabbat 22b). But this question raises an obvious problem: if the menorah was lit by the High Priest every night, in what way did it serve as a witness to God s presence? If anything, it testifies to the High Priest s presence! In what way was the light of the menorah miraculous enough to indicate the presence of the divine? In order for this menorah to serve as an active indicator of God s current presence, it cannot simply be a mirror of a past action; God must somehow be involved in the light of the menorah in the Temple as well. The miracle, Rav responds, was that the priest would pour an equal amount of oil into each lamp. He would start by lighting the ner ma aravi the western lamp first, and then proceed to light the other lamps from it. Yet the ner ma aravi would last the longest despite the fact that he would put the same amount of oil in each and it was lit first. God therefore contributed to the Temple menorah by stretching the light of the central lamp such that it served as a perpetual beacon. We may now pick up where Tosafot left off. The miracle of Chanukah is beloved not 9

10 because it is a unique and unusual miracle, but precisely because it is reminiscent of a miracle that easily could come to be taken for granted the continual, daily engagement in the Temple service. The miracle of Chanukah is an extension of the oil-stretching that God performed every day of the week, an oil-stretching that signaled not only that God wishes to dwell in our presence, but that God wants to be an active participant with us in our daily service. Just as God stretched the oil of the central lamp just a bit so that it lasted longer than the others, so also God stretched the small jug of oil so that it lasted eight days. In doing so, God essentially proclaimed God s desire to dwell among us and work with and through us in our time of greatest trouble. God proclaimed this using language we understood: the renewal of the almost quotidian miracle of stretching the light of the menorah lamps. This oil-stretching miracle took place in the Temple each and every night until it the light began to flicker as the people sinned in the lead-up to the destruction of the Temple (BT, Yoma 39a-b). It was as if God decided that we were no longer acting in the world in a way worthy of a continuing partnership. This breach is so upsetting to R. Yohanan b. Zakkai that he castigates the Temple for giving up on us too early, but perhaps he misunderstood; perhaps the withdrawal of the Temple miracles was an early signal by God a warning that we need to work harder on living up to our end of the covenantal partnership. The combination of both birkat mitzvah and birkat re iyah in the ritual of Chanukah signals in a profound way our constant renewal of the covenant with God. Through the birkat re iyah, the blessing of witnessing, we notice with wonder the fact that God has not abandoned us and continues to make God s presence known in the world. Through the birkat mitzvah, the blessing of commandedness, which we recite upon lighting the candles, we have the opportunity to turn our homes into miniature temples, actively 10

11 bringing God s light into the world. When we witness the light emanating from our homes and the homes of our neighbors, we witness the creation of miniature temples in our homes and communities which, we hope, are worthy of sustaining God s continued presence as an active partner in relationship with us. Chanukah sameach. Miriam-Simma Walfish is the director of Mechon Hadar s Summer High School Program and a graduate of the Pardes Educators Program, where she studied in the Pardes Kollel and through which she received an MA in Jewish Education from Hebrew University. She also studied at the Drisha Institute and at Midreshet Ein hanatziv. She has taught Tanakh and Talmud at the Heschel High School in New York City, at the Northwoods Kollel and Beit Midrash of Ramah Wisconsin, and at the National Havurah Institute. 11

12 Courage and Light by Rabbi James Jacobson-Maisels The story of Chanukah is a story of courage, of what it means to be a warrior ready to battle for freedom. Yet what is the nature of the courage Chanukah calls for? What is the nature of the battle and what is the nature of the freedom? On one important level Chanukah is the story of a physical battle for political freedom, yet on another level it is the story of the battle we all wage for inner freedom, and of the warrior s heart we need for that battle. The word Chanukah means to dedicate. We call the holiday Chanukah because of the rededication of the Temple which took place at that time. Yet this rededication, this preparation of the Temple so that God could once again dwell in it, was not simply a onetime event, but is rather a project we are called upon to engage in every day. The Hasidic Master R. Zadok HaKohen of Lublin ( ) teaches that the meaning of The Chanukah of the Hasmoneans is that everyone is able to make a rededication of the House so that God dwells in his heart. 1 The holiday of Chanukah is therefore an invitation for us to prepare a house for the divine to dwell in, the abode of the heart. The house in which God can dwell, R. Zadok teaches, is precisely the human heart, but a heart which must be made ready to receive divinity. Chanukah therefore means preparing a heart-home which is open to receiving visitors, which is open to doing the work of hakhnasat orḥim (welcoming guests) and perhaps most fundamentally, I think, it means preparing a heart so that we can welcome our first guest, ourselves, so that we can be who we truly are. 1. R. Zadok HaKohen of Lublin, Pri Tzadik, Miketz, 9. 12

13 This is the struggle of Chanukah: to be who one truly is no matter what the world thinks, no matter the opposition, no matter the mockery, shame or discomfort that greet us. This was the kind of courage displayed by the Maccabees to be who they were in the midst of a culture which told them that who they were was unacceptable. Indeed, the Piaseczner rebbe, R. Kalonymus Kalmish Shapira ( ) tells us, this is the true meaning of the word education (ḥinukh) which comes from the same root as Chanukah and is deeply connected to it. He explains: In a house or vessel, chinuch refers to the preparation that has made a house or a vessel suitable for a certain task or usage. The word chinuch is a special word that implies the realization of the already inherent capacity of a person or object, the actualization of a potential. When referring to the education of children, therefore, chinuch means stimulating the growth and development of what each child is suited for by his very nature. This quality or potential may be found in him only in very small measure, in total hiddenness; the task of the educator is to uncover it. 2 The genuine liberation of Chanukah is like the genuine goal of education: to enable ourselves to be who we truly are, to realize our genuine nature and bring it to fruition. This is why the symbol of Chanukah is light and the miracle of Chanukah for our Sages was not the military victory but the oil, for the light that open, bright, passionate aliveness is who we truly are. Chanukah invites us to once more be flames, to recognize that the candle of God is the human soul (Proverbs 20:27), to recognize that just as the true rededication of the house is the rededication of our hearts, so too the flame that must most importantly be lit 2. R. Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, Hovat HaTalmidim, p. 5. English translation: A Student s Obligation, trans. Micha Odenheimer (1995), pp

14 is the flame of our souls. Center for Jewish Leadership and Ideas Chanukah 5774 Yet lighting this flame, preparing the heart, and being who we are is not easy because it takes tremendous courage. Inspired by the exegetical techniques of the midrash and Hasidic masters, we can understand our enemy which we must courageously confront not as the Greeks (yavan,,(יון the historical opponents of the Maccabees, but as the mud and mire (yaven, a (יון word with the same letters in Hebrew we encounter within. We feel threatened by the inner Greeks (yavan,,(יון the mud and mire (yaven, (יון of the voices of disapproval and shame, both inner and outer, who tell us that we are not loved and accepted for who we are, that being who we are, being free, playful, and daring will lead to our rejection and abandonment. We can feel trapped in the swamp of fear, anxiety, selfdoubt, shame, and judgment. This process of Chanukah, then of rededicating our hearts and rediscovering our genuine nature requires us to confront these inner foes, to meet them with great courage and compassion and to allow them into the home of our heart without letting them rule us. It asks us to invite them in and then, as the Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Hasidic movement ( ), suggests, bind them in chains of love and offer them to God. 3 This acceptance is in fact the deepest transformation. It is becoming who in a profound way we most deeply are, and yet on a surface level have not yet fully become. We change and grow truly, the Hasidic masters teach, by becoming that which we are, and we are able to become it by profoundly accepting it. Growth and transformation then becomes a kind of unfolding of an essence waiting to see the light of day. This is Chanukah, rededicating the House so that it is open to all but not dominated by 3. Baal Shem Tov, Keter Shem Tov

15 strangers, those inner enemies who seem contrary to our true nature. Chanukah is turning to these apparent enemies with love and giving them a home in our hearts. As the messianic vision promises, For My House will be called a house of prayer for all peoples (Isaiah 56:7). We welcome in the fear, shame and judgment, we let them be at home, we hold them in compassion, but we do not let them dominate. This is what it means to be a warrior. As it is taught in Avot d Rabbi Natan: Who is a warrior? One who conquers his evil inclination and everyone who conquers his inclination it is considered as if he conquered a city full of warriors and there are those who say [who is a warrior?] one who makes his enemy his beloved (23:1). When we make our enemy, the one we hate, into our beloved, then we conquer our inclination, not through violence but through love. When we can hold the fear and shame with compassion we can fearlessly be who we really are: alive, daring and open. This is easy to say but extraordinarily hard to do achieve. Indeed, it is like conquering a whole city full of warriors! Yet this is the courage Chanukah calls for. The courage to see that our normal mechanisms of self-defense the blame, guilt, anger, judgment and shame we mobilize to protect ourselves offer no real protection. It is the courage to see that if we want to be free we must be willing to welcome in these inner yevanim (Greeks), the mud and mire, without being controlled by them, the valor to meet hate with love, anger with compassion and to make our enemy into our beloved. Whether the opposition is internal or external, Chanukah asks us to be brave enough to be who we are, to stop censoring our genuine passion, daring and love, to allow our fundamental softness, our primordial vulnerability and quiet strength to come forth. For this, the Piaseczner teaches, is our true strength. It is the strength of Israel, a strength so great, he tells us, that it surpasses all the world and refuses to bow to it, and yet which is 15

16 held precisely in the softness of the face, not in the false brittle pseudo-strength of hardness. For, as the Rabbis remind us in their choice of the Haftarah of Chanukah, Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts (Zechariah 4:6). It is that divine spirit of compassion and presence, the courageous willingness to be with whatever arises and hold it in love, that brings the ultimate victory, the liberation from our inner Greeks, and the ability to be who we truly are, bringing love and compassion to ourselves and others, and transforming ourselves so that every enemy is held in our hearts as a beloved friend. Chanukah sameach. Rabbi James Jacobson-Maisels teaches Kabbalah and spritual practices at Yeshivat Hadar in the summer. He also teaches Jewish thought and mysticism at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem. He is currently pursuing a PhD at the University of Chicago in Jewish Studies, specializing in Jewish mysticism. He hopes to integrate his study and practice and to help teach and live Judaism as a spiritual discipline. 16

17 To Look At, but Not to See Dena Weiss After lighting the Menorah, many have the custom to sing or recite Haneirot Halalu, these lights. This short text is first found in the 20 th chapter of the non-canonical or minor Talmudic tractate Masekhet Soferim which deals largely with the writing and reading of Torah scrolls, as part of the description of the lighting on Chanukah. כיצד מברכין? ביום הראשון המדליק מברך שלש, והרואה שתים. המדליק ברוך אתה י"י אלהינו מלך העולם אשר קדשנו במצותיו וציונו להדליק נר של חנוכה, ומתנה ואומר, הנירות האילו אנו מדליקין על הישועות ועל הניסים ועל הנפלאות, אשר עשית לאבותינו על ידי כהניך הקדושים, וכל שמונת ימי חנוכה הנירות האילו קודש, ואין לנו רשות להשתמש בהן אלא לראותן בלבד, כדי להודות שמך על נפלאותיך ועל ניסיך ועל ישועתיך; ואומר, ברוך אתה שהחיינו; ואומר, ברוך אתה שעשה נסים. How does one bless? On the first day the one who lights blesses three times and the one who sees blesses twice. The one who lights says, Blessed are You, HaShem our God, King of the universe who has sanctified us with his commandments and has commanded us to kindle the Chanukah light. He waits and then says, We kindle these lights (Haneirot Halalu) for the salvations, the miracles, and the wonders that you have performed for our ancestors by the hand of your holy priests. And all eight days of Chanukah these lights are holy, and we do not have permission to use them, rather only to look at them in order to praise Your name, for Your wonders, Your miracles, and Your salvations. And then he says, Blessed are You who has sustained us, and then he says, Blessed is the One who does miracles. ואין לנו strange: One line of this brief passage has always struck me as both beautiful and 17

18 we do not have permission to use them, rather only to look at,רשות להשתמש בהן אלא לראותן בלבד them. I can understand why this text tells me that I may not use the candles for the Talmud itself debates whether or not one is permitted to use the candles. But why does it state that I have permission to look at the Chanukah candles? There is no Rabbinic position which claims that one may not see the Chanukah candles. To the contrary, we are instructed to place the Chanukah candles in an area where there is maximum visibility in order to publicize the miracle to the greatest extent! Given that a part of the mitzvah is that the candles must be highly visible, why does this text need to tell me that I may look at them? What do these words come to teach, what do they aim to teach the person who recites them? Reading this passage in its original context helps us to understand this line more clearly. Contrary to the popular practice which places the recitation of Haneirot Halalu after the lighting of the candles and after all of the blessings, according to Masekhet Soferim, Haneirot Halalu is actually an introduction to the blessing one makes upon seeing the Chanukah lights. We make the blessing over lighting and then proceed to kindle the wicks. After lighting we recite Haneirot Halalu, then we gaze upon the lights, and then we make the blessing over seeing the lights, Blessed is the One who performs miracles. The function of Haneirot Halalu is to focus and prepare us for the significance of seeing the candles. The fact that it should not be considered a post-lighting song but a pre-viewing one is underscored by the highly specific instructions given in Masekhet Soferim. The candle lighter is told to wait between lighting the candles and saying Haneirot Halalu, whereas immediately after its recitation one says the blessing specific to seeing the Chanukah lights.,ואין לנו רשות להשתמש בהן אלא לראותן בלבד With this in mind it appears that when the text says we do not have permission to use them, rather only to look at them, it is not telling us that we may look at the Chanukah candles, but rather that we must. It is introducing a separate 18

19 experience and a separate stage of looking at the lights. This, however, raises a separate question if Haneirot Halalu is, in fact, not trying to contrast the permissibility of seeing with the forbidenness of use, why is it formulated in a way that brings these two components so close together and invites this comparison? Through this juxtaposition Haneirot Halalu teaches us a critical lesson. There is a significant connection between the two different modes of interacting with the lights, using and seeing. In fact these two modes are mutually exclusive. You cannot both see the Chanukah lights and benefit from their illumination simultaneously. If I am using the light of my menorah to count coins or learn Torah then I am looking at my coins or looking at my book, but I am not looking at the light itself. We are prohibited to use the light of the Chanukah candles because when you use the light you fail to see the light. If we want to make it a true possibility for people to gaze at and appreciate the light of the miracle, we must make it forbidden to use their light. These lamps serve as reminders: they serve God, they do not serve you. It is often the case that because we are engaging with the world and the people around us, we don t see them. This is not because we don t want to, but because we can t. Appreciation is not something that we can successfully do in the moment. We cannot see the light as it is illuminating. The prohibition of using the Chanukah lights because to use them means to be unable to see them should remind us of how important it is for us to see the people who are in a relationship of service to us and who provide for our needs and even the objects that we use on their own terms. Before the light makes other things visible, it is itself something to be seen. Haneirot Halalu sensitizes us to this moment. It tells us that to truly see and recognize something or someone s value beyond its function requires us to stop. It requires us to pause and prepare ourselves to do nothing else but 19

20 gaze. Center for Jewish Leadership and Ideas Chanukah 5774 We know of Chanukah as the festival of light, but it is also a festival of sight. As the days grow darker and colder, we run the risk of becoming darker and colder ourselves, becoming exclusively focused on our own safety, our own preservation, and our own needs. The Chanukah lights are there to help us combat this tendency, to show us that the world is broader than our own needs, and to teach us how to truly see everything that surrounds us. Chanukah sameach. Dena Weiss is rosh beit midrash at Yeshivat Hadar. She earned a BA in Religious Studies from New York University and an MA in Theology from Harvard Divinity School. She has studied and taught in a variety of Jewish educational settings including Drisha, Midreshet Lindenbaum, and Pardes. She currently serves as the editor in chief of the Mima'amakim journal of Jewish religious art. Go to the Mechon Hadar website for more lecture recordings source sheets minyan resources Divrei Torah information about our programs and teachers 20