Jewish World Review Dec. 10, 2001 / 25 Kislev, 5762

Chanukah: A different kind of miracle

By Rabbi Yonason Goldson

http://www.jewishworldreview.com -- THE Ten Plagues crushed the Jews' oppressors in Egypt. The splitting of the sea allowed the Jews to escape to freedom. The Clouds of Glory in the desert protected them from harm, and the giving of the Torah at Sinai rescued them from cultural oblivion. In short, from one end of the Jewish calendar to the other, every miracle that we commemorate was performed to save us from extinction or annihilation.

Except the miracle of Chanukah.

What we all learned as children -- that there was only enough oil to burn in the Temple menorah for one day, and that eight days were required to get more -- is not even accurate. In truth, there was an ample supply of oil, more than enough to keep the menorah burning until a new supply could be procured. True, there was only one day's supply of pure oil, but the laws governing the Temple service expressly permit the use of impure oil when nothing else is unavailable.

If so, how do we understand the miracle of Chanukah at all? Why weren't the Hasmoneans delighted to use whatever oil was at hand, and why did the Almighty perform a miracle for them when there seems to have been no need for one?

The fight between the Jews and the Selucid Greeks was not as much a military battle as it was a cultural battle, not as much a struggle to control the land of Israel as to control the soul of Israel. In a systematic effort to strip their Jewish subjects of all Jewish identity, the Greeks and their Hellenist sympathizers attempted to Grecianize every aspect of Jewish life: if the Jews did not conform to Greek ideals in education, worship, language, even in the clothes they wore, they risked violent reprisals from their Greek overlords.

When the Maccabean uprising succeeded in recapturing the Temple, the Greeks yet retained control of almost all Israel, and the Hellenists still posed a profound threat to the values of Jewish society. The rekindling of the menorah by the High Priest would therefore serve as a grand and inspiring symbol to the people of Jerusalem. At the same time, however, the necessity of using contaminated oil would utterly deflate the symbolism of the Temple's rededication. "One who wishes to become wise should turn to the south," teaches the Talmud, alluding to the positioning of the menorah on the southern side of the sanctuary. Light always represents wisdom -- the illumination of understanding -- and oil represents the source from which divine wisdom flows into the world. To kindle the menorah with contaminated oil would suggest that the Greeks, although losing the battle, had truly won the war -- that they had succeeded in corrupting the heart and soul of Judaism and of the Jews.

So the Hasmoneans searched relentlessly, almost hopelessly, until, astonishingly, they uncovered a hidden flask of oil that had escaped the notice and the defilement of the Greeks. It was not enough for more than a day, but it was enough to accomplish what they desired even more than the rekindling of the lights: to show the Almighty that they had returned to His service in purity and had survived uncorrupted their long exile under Greek rule.

And so, as a sign that He both understood and accepted their gesture, the Almighty responded with a miracle, not to save the Jews and enable them to survive, but to signal that they had saved themselves and thus could be confident that they would continue to survive -- not only physically, but culturally and ideologically.

And so, when we light the lights of Chanukah, we honor the memory of the Hasmoneans who fought to remain Jewish not only in name but in essence, to the ultimate depth of their souls. And we should remember as well, that the lights of the menorah are still not secure, that their meaning can yet be corrupted if we forget the true meaning of Chanukah or if we indulge the season's gross commercialization, which seeks to transform spirituality into economic opportunism.

Indeed, it is not enough to light the Chanukah lights. We must light them with purity and with understanding, so that their light will inspire us to renew our commitment to the ideals they represent. It was for this that our ancestors fought and died: to preserve the cultural integrity of Jewish tradition, so that we -- their children -- could inherit it.

JWR contributor Rabbi Yonason Goldson teaches at Block Yeshiva High School and Aish HaTorah in St. Louis, and writes a regular column for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Send your comments by clicking here.