The Fire is Still Burning

Reb Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch was once walking with a group of chassidim, when he heard the unmistakable sounds a child crying. Looking for the source of the tears, he saw a large tree stump, with a little girl sitting behind it, crying.

“Little girl” said the Rebbe, “Why are you crying? What happened”? Said the little girl back to the Rebbe: “My friends and I are playing hide and seek. And it was my turn to hide, so I hid here, behind the tree stump. I've been hiding and hiding, and no one has found me. I fear that they might have given up. The Rebbe sat on the floor with her, and he too began to cry.

The Tears of Being Alone

These are the tears of the Hostages. The tears of 446 days in captivity in Gaza. They are the tears of Yosef HaTzadik in prison, the tears of Yaakov Avinu missing his son.The tears of parents who are waiting, worried about their children, tears of children crying for their parents. They are the tears of the families of Chayalim who never came came home, and those who came home injured and scarred, and might never be the same again.

But there are other tears as well. The tears of husbands and wives who still remember standing under the Chupah, when they couldn't take their eyes off each other, and now struggle to make eye contact at all. Brother and sisters who are still upset about things that happened years ago, and no-one remembers exactly what it was. Friends who fell out of touch, and don't know how to reach out after so many years.

These are the tears of the Churban HaBayis, when the Jewish people were chained and marched out of Yerushalayim. These are the tears of when they came back and realized it would never be the same again.

It was these tears with which Ancient Greece challenged us: Maybe Hashem is not looking for you any longer. Maybe He never was. Maybe the dream of being Hashem’s people, elevating the world and educating humanity... Maybe none of it was ever real.

The Greek challenge of “Where is your God?!” is expressed by the Medrash (Bereishis Rabba 4) explaining the pasuk:

הָאָרֶץ הָיְתָה תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ וְחשֶׁךְ עַל פְּנֵי תְהוֹם ר”ש בן לקיש פתר קריא בגליות והארץ היתה תוהו – זה גלות בבל. ובהו – זה גלות מדי. תהום – זה גלות אדום. וחושך – זו גלות יון שהחשיכה עיניהם של ישראל בגזרותיהן שהיתה אומרת להם כתבו לכם על קרן השור שאין לכם חלק באלוקי ישראל”

...Darkness refers to Greece, who darkened the eyes of the Jewish people with their decrees, for they said to them: Inscribe on the horn of the ox: “We have no part in the God of the Jews.”

In the world of Yavan, the world of Galus, the question arose. Maybe it's time to give up. Maybe Yiddishkeit is a 'has been'. Maybe it's not relevant any more. If we wish to participate in the world of the future, the world of science, philosophy, arts and literature, we best give up on the ancient beliefs of our people.

Essentially, Yavan asks us for the last two thousand years: If we have to work so hard to find HaKadosh Baruch Hu, maybe he isn't there at all?

Questions on the Inside

The pressure that the modern world puts on our Emunah was also expressed in the attack on the Mikdash. When the Greeks entered the Beis HaMikdash they, so to speak, poisoned the well. They make the oil impure.

The ancient wisdom of Judaism came under fierce attack and it manifested in extinguishing the light of the Menora – The symbol of enlightenment and Chochma.

Essentially, Greece invaded not just our land, but our hearts and minds. They asked questions to poke holes in the relationship between Klal Yisrael and Hashem. They left us crying behind a tree stump, wondering if the Ribono Shel Olam was still looking for us at all.

Thawing the Frozen Winter

One winter day, the Baal Shem Tov’s students witnessed a group of peasants who had gathered on the surface of a frozen river, from which they carved a block of ice in the shape of a cross to use in a religious procession. They asked their master what lesson they could possibly derive from such an “un-Jewish” scene. The Baal Shem Tov replied, “In the Torah, water has spiritually cleansing properties; but when it is frozen, even the purest substance can be made into an icon of heresy.”

Yavan cooled us down, made us question ourselves and Hakadosh Baruch Hu. It was in this environment that Hashem gave us Chanukah – quite literally a light in the darkness. The light, the heat and the warmth of Chanukah serve to thaw the frozenness of Yavan.

Ultimately, it's Hashem telling us that the spark of what makes us Jewish can never be extinguished. All He needs is for us to kindle the lights. Like any relationship, when questions, doubts and discomfort arise, they can only be dispelled by engaging in the relationship; getting together with אלקים חיים – Our Living God.

The Gemara in Shabbos quotes an opinion of R' Zeira:

א”ר זירא אמר רב מתנה ואמרי לה א”ר זירא אמר רב פתילות ושמנים שאמרו חכמים אין מדליקין בהן בשבת מדליקין בהן בחנוכה בין בחול בין בשבת

Rabbi Zeira said that Rav Mattana said, and others say that Rabbi Zeira said that Rav said: The wicks and oils with which the Sages said one may not light on Shabbat, one may, nevertheless, light with them on Hanukkah, both during the week and on Shabbat.

The Tiferes Shlomo of Radomsker would explain this Gemara as referring to distant Jews. He explained that even a Jew, whose body and soul, the candle and the flame, are not connected to Shabbos at all, is connected to Chanukah.

This is the flame of Chanukah. It's the kodesh kodashim – that inner space inside each and every Jew that we question might be irreparably corrupted, that we worry might have frozen over. The miracle is that it's never over. Far beyond the natural order, transcending the confines of reason and logic, is the relationship between Kneses Yisrael and HaKadosh Baruch Hu.

The Chanukah candle is the נר השם that is in every Jew. It's אורו של משיח that dispels all the darkness of Galus within us. It's the fuel that has powered us through two thousand years of Galus, that will B'ezras Hashem burn until we are all back home.