Hanukkah is one of the most visibly recognized Jewish holidays in the Western world. This is largely because it coincides with Christmas. If you live in a decent-sized city, you are likely to see menorahs lit alongside Christmas trees in malls or outside city halls. Often called the Festival of Lights, Hanukkah commemorates a mythic story of a miracle that carries enduring lessons for all of us, Jewish or not.
When I say “today,” I mean it in two ways. I mean it broadly, in reference to the world we are living in right now. I also mean it literally. Early this morning, two gunmen opened fire at a Hanukkah celebration in Sydney, Australia. As of this writing, 16 people are confirmed dead and 29 wounded. A…
Hanukkah is one of the most visibly recognized Jewish holidays in the Western world. This is largely because it coincides with Christmas. If you live in a decent-sized city, you are likely to see menorahs lit alongside Christmas trees in malls or outside city halls. Often called the Festival of Lights, Hanukkah commemorates a mythic story of a miracle that carries enduring lessons for all of us, Jewish or not.
When I say “today,” I mean it in two ways. I mean it broadly, in reference to the world we are living in right now. I also mean it literally. Early this morning, two gunmen opened fire at a Hanukkah celebration in Sydney, Australia. As of this writing, 16 people are confirmed dead and 29 wounded. As is often the case within the Jewish community, the ripple effects of this tragedy are felt globally, including here in San Diego.
Among the deceased was Rabbi Eli Schlanger, who had organized the event in Sydney. Rabbi Schlanger was a classmate of the rabbi who serves at the synagogue my wife’s family attends. My wife and I were there just yesterday for Shabbat, spending the day with him, his wife, and their two beautiful children. His daughter is obsessed with my dog, who they generously allowed to wander the synagogue freely after services.
Tonight, despite learning on the same day that his childhood friend was murdered while organizing a similar event, our rabbi will light a menorah at a public gathering. In doing so, he will embody the very spirit of Hanukkah, which is what I want to reflect on here.
The Less-Talked-About Hanukkah Lesson
The story of Hanukkah tells of the Maccabees, who revolted against their occupiers, the Seleucid Empire. After reclaiming the Temple in Jerusalem, they barricaded themselves inside while awaiting help. They found only enough oil to light the menorah for one day. Miraculously, that oil lasted eight days, long enough for help to arrive.
There are many lessons to draw from this story, and this week much will be written about light in dark places. If you pay attention, you will see menorahs lit up in windows throughout your neighborhood, in celebration of this fact. I will read those reflections and be comforted by them. But today, for me, Hanukkah is about being sustained.
To sustain means to strengthen or support, physically or mentally. To be sustained is to continue on without weakening. Applied to our personal lives, sustenance is about discovering that we have had enough all along, even when we are convinced we do not. No one could have faulted the Maccabees for giving in to hopelessness while surrounded by enemies, and yet they discovered that their oil, which they never believed would be enough, sustained them to the end.
The Spirit of Hanukkah
The spirit of Hanukkah shows up whenever we doubt our own capacities or abilities and decide to take a brave step anyway. If you ever doubted you had the strength to leave a toxic relationship but did so regardless, the spirit of Hanukkah is alive in you. If you doubted you could survive the death of a loved one or the loss of a relationship, yet found your way to a new normal, the spirit of Hanukkah is alive in you. If you doubted you had what it takes to recover from an addiction but slowly made progress in your sobriety, the spirit of Hanukkah is alive in you.
Hanukkah is not about things unfolding perfectly or life resolving itself neatly. It is about being sustained through darkness and learning that you have enough to endure the tragedies that life inevitably brings. As Greg Boyle of Homeboy Industries once said, “God protects me from nothing, but sustains me in all things.”
You Have Enough
Sometimes people approach therapy as though it is meant to fundamentally transform them at some future point in time, granting them more insight, more self-acceptance, or more strength so that they can finally make the changes they need. The lesson of Hanukkah suggests something different. It tells us that even now, in this present moment, despite our doubts and fear, we are enough and have been all along. We will be sustained.
Tonight, our local rabbi, grieving the loss of his childhood friend, will stand before our community and light the menorah. Among the blessings recited, one is said only on the first night, the Shehecheyanu.
Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech ha’olam, shehecheyanu v’kiy’manu v’higi’anu laz’man hazeh.
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.
In times of trauma and mass violence, we are sustained. We have enough to continue without surrendering to hopelessness. In grief, heartbreak, and death, we are sustained. We have enough to continue without succumbing to hatred.
This Hanukkah, the light is what people will notice, and thank God for that. The next eight days may it be recognized for what it most often beautifully symbolizes: a sign of light in dark places. But may we also not forget the oil. The quiet reminder of sustenance. That the qualities we long for most are already alive within us. Even when we believe we barely have any at all, when we put what we have to use, we discover that it is enough.
We are sustained.
Chag Sameach. Happy Hanukkah.