December 18, 2024|י"ז כסלו ה' אלפים תשפ"ה Lighting the Way: The True Meaning of Chanukah's Light By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

As we approach Chanukah, we are reminded of the light that shines in our lives, both literally and metaphorically. The lighting of the Chanukah candles is a deeply significant ritual, and it offers an opportunity to reflect on the deeper meaning behind this mitzvah and the true pleasure it brings us.

The great Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, renowned for his loving and insightful approach to Torah, once entered his Beit Medrash and saw a few students conversing with longing and envy. They were discussing a wealthy individual they admired, wondering about the joy and comfort wealth could provide. Rav Levi Yitzchak responded with a surprising question: “Does this man light Chanukah candles?” The students, puzzled, replied that he did not. Rav Levi Yitzchak then said, “Then he does not know what it is like to experience true pleasure in this world.”

What, then, is the true pleasure of the Chanukah candles? Why is it so profound, as Rav Levi Yitzchak suggests? To answer that, we must first explore the unique nature of Chanukah’s light.

Shabbat Candles vs. Chanukah Candles: A Profound Distinction

While we light Shabbat candles every week, the purpose of Chanukah candles is notably different. Shabbat candles serve a practical function: they provide light for eating, enjoying the evening, and navigating our homes. But the Chanukah candles, in contrast, have no practical use at all. Jewish law explicitly forbids using them for mundane tasks, such as reading or eating by their light. Why?

Some halachic authorities, like Rashi, suggest that this prohibition exists to prevent any suggestion that the light is for anything other than the mitzvah itself. Other authorities, such as the Ran, explain that the essence of the Chanukah mitzvah is that it is an end in itself—not a means to an end. The act of lighting the candles, bringing light into the world, is the mitzvah in its purest form.

This distinction is profound. The Chanukah light is not a tool for something else; it is a source of light for the soul—a moment of holiness and an opportunity to connect with something deeper.

The Light of Faith, Not Defiance

Some people mistakenly view the light of the Chanukah menorah as a symbol of defiance, a statement of resistance against oppression or a declaration of "we will not be intimidated." Certainly, in times of rising antisemitism, there is power in publicizing our Jewish identity through the menorah. It is a way of showing the world that we will not be silenced. However, the light of Chanukah is not primarily a light of defiance—it is a light of faith.

In light of the current climate, following the tragic events of October 7th, it is easy to focus on the need to stand strong and unafraid. This message is critical, but it aligns more with Purim—the holiday when we fought against physical annihilation. Chanukah, however, tells a different story.

The story of Chanukah is not just about physical survival but about spiritual survival. The decrees of the Syrian-Greeks sought to spiritually assimilate us, to make us forget our Torah, and to sever our connection to our heritage and faith. It was in response to this existential threat that the Jewish people rose up—not only to fight for their lives but to preserve their right to live as Jews and continue the practice of Torah.

Thus, the light of Chanukah is the light that resists spiritual assimilation. It is the light that helps us remember who we are, even in the darkest of times.

The Chanukah Lights: A Beacon of Faith and Hope

This truth was powerfully illustrated in a story from the Holocaust. In the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, surrounded by death and suffering, Jews lit Chanukah candles. Rabbi Israel Spira, the Rabbi of Bluzhov, found himself in the midst of this horror, lighting the first candle while corpses lay around him. As he recited the first two blessings, the festive melody was tinged with sorrow. When it came time to recite the third blessing of “shehechiyanu”—thanking God for keeping the Jewish people alive and enabling them to reach this season—Rabbi Spira hesitated.

He turned to his fellow rabbis for guidance, yet as he paused and looked around, he noticed a group of living Jews behind him, their faces filled with faith. In that moment, he realized that despite the overwhelming darkness, they had still managed to gather in faith. He then recited the third blessing with strength and clarity: “Blessed are You, O Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who has kept us alive, and has preserved us, and enabled us to reach this season.”

Among the group was Mr. Zamietchkowski, a leader of the Warsaw Bund, known for his sharp intellect and passion for discussing faith. He was astonished and approached Rabbi Spira, asking how he could thank God in such a dire situation. How could he say "who has kept us alive" when death surrounded them?

Rabbi Spira responded with profound wisdom: “Zamietchkowski, you are right to question. When I reached the third blessing, I too hesitated. But when I saw the living Jews behind me—surrounded by death, yet still united in faith—I realized that despite everything, our connection to God remains unbroken. It was this light, this faith, that I was honoring in the third blessing.”

Rabbi Spira’s words capture the essence of Chanukah: even in the most hopeless moments, the light of faith can shine brightly. It is not merely about physical survival, but about the preservation of the Jewish soul, the continuity of our bond to God and each other. This is the true miracle of Chanukah.

Embracing the Light in Our Lives

We, too, face our own challenges and moments of spiritual darkness. Our homes may not be as harmonious as we imagined, or our faith may be tested by doubt. Yet, the light of Chanukah offers a moment to reconnect with what truly matters. As we light the menorah, we are reminded that the true pleasure of this world does not lie in wealth or external achievements, but in the light of faith and hope that guides us through life’s challenges.

One meaningful way to connect with the light of Chanukah is through a screen-free challenge, which many schools encourage during the holiday. After lighting the candles, families can spend 30 minutes without the distraction of devices—time that can be spent playing games, reflecting on the holiday’s themes, or simply enjoying the light.

This Chanukah, I invite each of us to take up the 30-minute screen challenge. Let us sit by the menorah, not to use the light for any practical purpose, but to allow it to connect us to our deepest selves, to renew our faith, and to fill us with the hope that, no matter how dark the world may seem, the light of Chanukah will always shine brightly within us.

As we light the menorah this year, let us remember that the true pleasure of the Chanukah candles is not found in their light, but in what they represent: the enduring power of faith, the strength of our connection to God, and the hope that, no matter the darkness, we will always emerge into light.