Chanukah: Recognizing the Miracles Through the Darkness

Topics

• What Does Chanukah Teach Us for the Rest of the Year?
• Two Teachings Next to Each Other in the Gemara
• Yosef, Chanukah, and the Sanctity of the Home
• Yosef Returns to the Bor and Makes a Brachah
• The Miracle Was Only the Beginning
• "Leshanah Acheres": Recognizing a Miracle in Retrospect
• The Pnei Yehoshua: The Shechinah Remains with Klal Yisrael
• Yosef and the Fragrant Caravan
• Looking Back at the Bor: A Miracle Seen Differently
• "Bikeish Yaakov Leishev Beshalvah"
• "Lehodos Ulehallel Leshimcha Hagadol"

Transcript

## What Does Chanukah Teach Us for the Rest of the Year?

There is so much to speak about Chanukah. The questions are endless and the answers are endless, because Torah is *ein sof*. I want to choose one *gedank*, one thought that occurred to me this year, and share it with the *oilam*.

We say in **Al HaNissim**:

**"על הנסים ועל הפרקן ועל הגבורות ועל התשועות ועל המלחמות שעשית לאבותינו בימים ההם בזמן הזה."**

Look at the language: **nisim**, **purkan**, **gevuros**, **teshuos**, **milchamos**. Everything is in the plural.

We know that there were two major *nisim* of Chanukah: the miraculous military victory and the miracle of the flask of oil. There is a discussion between the Gemara and the Rambam about how the miracle is presented and what the principal reason for the Yom Tov is. But what are **all the teshuos**? What are **all the milchamos**? It sounds like many deliverances and many struggles.

Later in the *nusach* we say **"ולעמך ישראל עשית תשועה גדולה"**—You made a great salvation for Your people Yisrael. That's singular, one great *teshuah*. So why begin with **"ועל התשועות"**, plural?

I want to suggest a *yesod*. I don't know whether it is the definitive *pshat* in the words, but the *mussar haskalah* is, I believe, fundamental to Chanukah and to a Yid's entire life.

Consider the words **"בימים ההם בזמן הזה"**. We usually translate them as "in those days, at this time." But why that unusual expression? It seems to compare not only a calendar date but one **period of time** with another: *bayamim haheim* and *bazman hazeh*.

There is a famous *mahalach* of the **Kedushas Levi**, developed in later *sefarim*, that the spiritual *hashpa'ah* of each Yom Tov returns to us in its season. The *oros* and *hashpa'os* of Chanukah are not merely historical memories; in some sense we relive them **bazman hazeh**.

I want to explore a simpler way of understanding this—not necessarily disagreeing with that *mahalach*, perhaps explaining a practical part of it. What does Chanukah demand from us **now**? What are we supposed to take from its *hoda'ah* for the rest of our lives?

We must understand not only the miracle that happened, but what it means to recognize **many miracles** over time.

## Two Teachings Next to Each Other in the Gemara

Look at the Gemara in **Shabbos 22a**. Chazal teach that a Chanukah lamp placed higher than **twenty amos** is invalid, because it is too high to be seen in the ordinary way. People will not notice it properly; **לא שלטא בה עינא**.

And immediately afterward the Gemara brings a teaching about **Yosef HaTzaddik**:

**"והבור רק אין בו מים"**—the pit was empty; there was no water in it (Bereishis 37:24). If the Torah already says the pit was empty, why add that there was no water? Chazal explain: **"מים אין בו, אבל נחשים ועקרבים יש בו"**—there was no water, but there were snakes and scorpions (Shabbos 22a).

Now the famous *kashya*: Why do these two teachings come together? What does a Chanukah lamp higher than twenty amos have to do with the pit into which Yosef was thrown?

There is a straightforward reason for their placement. The Gemara is bringing successive teachings transmitted by the same chain of *Amoraim*. Chazal often bring multiple teachings together because they share a transmitter.

But the *darshanim* look for a deeper connection as well.

There is a well-known *vort*: Reuven wanted to save Yosef. How could he allow Yosef to be placed in a pit full of snakes and scorpions? Perhaps he didn't see the danger. The pit was deep enough that its bottom was beyond clear sight; just as a Chanukah lamp above twenty amos is not properly visible, the dangers in the pit were not visible from above.

It is a beautiful *derush*, although I have a technical *kashya*. Looking down into a dark pit is not exactly the same as looking up toward a lit lamp. The physical circumstances differ. We should recognize that it is a *derush*, not necessarily the plain reason the Gemara placed the teachings together.

But I want to ask another question: Is there an actual **connection between Yosef and Chanukah**, not only between a deep pit and a high lamp?

There are several *remezim* connecting Yosef with Chanukah. One famous *remez* begins with Yosef's words to prepare a meal for his brothers. Let's examine that, and then we'll return to the **bor** itself.

## Yosef, Chanukah, and the Sanctity of the Home

The Torah says that Yosef told the steward of his house: **"וטבוח טבח והכן"**—slaughter and prepare (Bereishis 43:16). In *sefarim*, the expression is used in a *remez* connected with **Chanukah**. But what is the *kesher* between a meal in Yosef's house and the *neiros Chanukah*?

Let us think about the mitzvah. The Gemara defines the basic lighting as **"נר איש וביתו"** (Shabbos 21b)—one lamp for a man and his household. Why is **bayis**, the home, so prominent?

There is a *machlokes Acharonim* about how central an actual home is to the obligation. Some give considerable weight to *ner ish uveiso* and the place where a person lives; others understand the obligation more broadly. And Chazal have a special *brachah* for someone who sees Chanukah lights under conditions in which he is not lighting himself (Shabbos 23a). We mustn't simplify those *halachos* into one blanket rule about a traveler or someone without a settled home.

But as a *mussar* lesson, hear what the home represents.

During the Greek oppression, keeping Torah in the streets became dangerous. The pressure to assimilate—to become *misyavnim*—was intense. The **Jewish home** was a place where *Yiddishkeit* could be preserved quietly, where parents taught children and families continued to live by the Torah.

The popular story associated with the **dreidel** is that Jewish children would conceal their Torah learning by pretending to play. The precise historical origin of that custom needs examination, but the traditional lesson is about preserving Torah under oppression.

And see where the *neiros Chanukah* are placed. We put them near the entrance to the home, across from the **mezuzah**, so that a person is surrounded by mitzvos (Shabbos 22a; Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 671:7).

Why the doorway? Why the household? The lights announce that this is a home built on Torah.

Now consider **Yosef HaTzaddik**. He lived in the midst of Mitzrayim, surrounded by an alien culture. He rose to a position of extraordinary power in that society. Yet he retained the values and practices of **the house of Yaakov Avinu**.

The *Rishonim* and *Midrashim* find indications of *kashrus* and preparation for Shabbos in the meal he prepared for his brothers. The precise connection of every custom and *halachah* requires reading the sources inside, but the *yesod* is powerful: Yosef could live in Mitzrayim and still keep the purity of a Jewish home.

That is the link to **"נר איש וביתו"**. In the midst of the outside world's darkness, the home remains illuminated by Torah.

But Yosef's connection to Chanukah goes further. I want to return to the **bor**, the pit. Why should the *bor* itself be connected with *hoda'ah* for miracles?

## Yosef Returns to the Bor and Makes a Brachah

Chazal teach that when a person sees a place where a miracle occurred to him, under the prescribed conditions he makes a *brachah* acknowledging Hashem's salvation (Berachos 54a).

There is a *Midrash* that when Yosef traveled with his brothers to bury Yaakov Avinu and later returned, he passed the place where he had been thrown into the pit. He stopped and blessed Hashem: **"ברוך שעשה לי נס במקום הזה"**—blessed is He who performed a miracle for me in this place. The episode is brought in *Midrash Tanchuma*, Vayechi, and related sources.

Now ask a simple *kashya*: Why did Yosef make the *brachah* **on the way back** from Yaakov's burial? Why not on the way to Eretz Yisrael? Was the pit only there for him on the return journey?

I saw a *chiddush* in the **Pardes Yosef**. There is a teaching about returning from a *levayah* by a different route, so that the experience should change the person. A *levayah* is supposed to awaken *teshuvah*: you should not return exactly the same person along exactly the same path.

On this approach, Yosef traveled to the burial by one route and returned by another. It was only on his return that he passed the pit and made the *brachah*. That is a beautiful answer, though the exact source and application of the route custom require verification.

But there is another, deeper *kashya*, discussed in the name of the **Meshech Chochmah**. Yosef had experienced extraordinary deliverances long before he returned to the pit. He was sold into slavery, falsely imprisoned, and eventually raised to the highest levels of power in Mitzrayim. Why did he wait until now to thank Hashem for a miracle?

One answer distinguishes an **openly visible miracle**, a *nes galui*, from forms of salvation that take place through a longer chain of apparently ordinary events. Yosef's emergence alive from a pit inhabited by snakes and scorpions was a striking miracle; the many stages of his rise in Mitzrayim could be perceived as unfolding through circumstances.

That raises a question about the *brachah* **"שעשה נסים"** and when the *halachah* requires the event to be recognizable as miraculous. But don't take the distinction as a fully worked-out practical ruling without checking the precise *Meshech Chochmah* and the *poskim*.

We could ask further: Chanukah is usually presented as a visible miracle of oil and victory, while Purim is a deliverance hidden within apparently natural events. Yet we acknowledge Hashem's miracles on **both** festivals. How do these categories fit? We need to study that.

What interests me is the question of **when a person recognizes the miracle**. Why did Yosef stand at that pit and make the *brachah* only after so much of his life had unfolded? That is where I think there is a great lesson about Chanukah.

## The Miracle Was Only the Beginning

Consider the history of Chanukah. Was the victory we commemorate the final battle? Certainly not. There were many difficulties and conflicts yet to come. So what exactly are we celebrating? Why was Chanukah established as a permanent Yom Tov?

The **Rambam**, at the beginning of *Hilchos Chanukah* (3:1), describes the victory and says **"וחזרה מלכות לישראל יתר על מאתים שנה"**—Jewish sovereignty returned for more than two hundred years.

Now there is a famous question. Was that entire period necessarily a good thing? The **Ramban** strongly criticizes the Chashmona'im for taking kingship into a family of *Kohanim*, in connection with **"לא יסור שבט מיהודה"** (Bereishis 49:10). How does that fit with the Rambam's description of the restoration of sovereignty?

We have to keep the historical and halachic discussions distinct. I am not going to settle the whole *machlokes* here. I want to focus on something about the words **"וחזרה מלכות לישראל"**.

The initial victory was not the end of the story. It was a **beginning**. Over time it became clear that the miracle had opened the way to further deliverance and continuation of Jewish life. What they saw at the first victory was only a part of what would unfold.

And here is the *yesod* I want to teach: **A person often recognizes a miracle fully only in retrospect**.

In the middle of an event, a person sees this difficulty, that kindness, this problem, and that escape. He may not see how they connect. He lives one day at a time and doesn't yet know where the story is leading.

Years later he can look back and see a pattern. The Ribbono Shel Olam was guiding him through events whose meaning he could not have understood at the time.

That requires training. We have to learn to notice, remember, and connect the kindnesses of Hashem. We must resist treating every day as isolated from everything that came before it.

This is why I am asking about **"ועל התשועות ועל המלחמות"**, the plural in Al HaNissim. Perhaps Chanukah does not merely celebrate one victory sealed off in the past. It teaches us to recognize the chain of **many yeshuos** that grow from an opening made by Hashem.

And that changes how we see our own lives. We can experience tremendous *chasadim* and still fail to recognize them unless we look back with an **ayin tovah**.

Now let us consider why the Gemara says the Yom Tov was established **the following year**.

## "Leshanah Acheres": Recognizing a Miracle in Retrospect

The Gemara in Shabbos 21b tells us: **"לשנה אחרת קבעום ועשאום ימים טובים בהלל והודאה"**—the next year they established the days of Chanukah for Hallel and thanksgiving.

Why *the next year*? Why not declare a Yom Tov immediately after the victory and the miracle of the oil?

Perhaps there is a tremendous *yesod* here: **often a person recognizes the full meaning of a miracle only when he looks back**. A miracle may not consist of one isolated moment. Its significance may unfold over days, months, and years. You have to look back and see where Hashem was leading you.

*Rabosai*, we live in a world that always says, "Move on. Put it behind you. Next!" But how can there be *hakaras hatov* if you never remember what came before? How will you thank the Ribbono Shel Olam if you forget every kindness the moment after it happens?

You need to remember yesterday, the day before, and the years before. We don't live only in the immediate moment. We look back and see how Hashem has guided our lives.

A person may be so caught up in his difficulties that he doesn't notice a *nes*. To build the picture requires *middos tovos*, perspective, and an **ayin tovah**. When somebody looks at every event with bitterness, he can go through astonishing *chasadim* without recognizing them. But when he learns to see with *simchah* and appreciation, a whole pattern begins to emerge.

This may be a *mussar* understanding of **"לשנה אחרת"**. The miracle became visible as something more than an event in one day; it became the foundation of a continuing *yeshuah*.

Don't think the darkness disappeared when the Chashmona'im lit the Menorah. There were struggles ahead, many more *milchamos*. The candles were a little light in a world that was still dark. But that light said something extraordinary: **the Ribbono Shel Olam is with us**.

Now we'll see what the *Pnei Yehoshua* says about the miracle of the oil.

## The Pnei Yehoshua: The Shechinah Remains with Klal Yisrael

The **Pnei Yehoshua** on Shabbos 21b asks a famous *kashya*. There are *halachic* principles allowing communal *avodah* under conditions of *tumah*. Why was it necessary for Hashem to make the miracle of the pure oil? What was the *nes* meant to teach us?

He explains that the miracle was an expression of Hashem's love and closeness to Klal Yisrael. The Yevanim wanted to convince the Jews that they had no portion in the G-d of Yisrael. Chazal describe the Greek challenge as **"כתבו לכם על קרן השור שאין לכם חלק באלקי ישראל"** (Bereishis Rabbah 2:4).

The light of the Menorah was the answer: **השכינה שרויה בישראל**. The Shechinah remains with Klal Yisrael.

That was the *chizuk* of Chanukah. Even in the darkness, Hashem has not abandoned us. When a Yid realizes this, he can begin to look back on his troubles and see the goodness and guidance of the Ribbono Shel Olam.

This is part of **"בימים ההם בזמן הזה"**. The miracles of those days are connected with the fact that Klal Yisrael is still here today. We live in the continuation of a history of *yeshuos*. Hashem has sustained us through the centuries, and recognizing that should bring tremendous *simchah*.

I heard a story from a friend of my brother. He struggled with unhappiness and wanted to ask **Rav Chaim Kanievsky** for a *brachah* for *simchah*. He wondered whether it even made sense to request such a *brachah*, since happiness depends so much on one's own way of looking at life.

He went to Rav Chaim during Chanukah and explained that he was sad. Rav Chaim reportedly looked at him and said: **"עצוב? הלא חנוכה היום!"**—Sad? But it's Chanukah!

That man later said the encounter changed his outlook profoundly. I am reporting his personal experience, not giving a universal cure for every form of sadness. The *mussar* is that Chanukah invites us to see more than our immediate difficulties.

Every person has *nisyonos*. Life can be terribly hard. Chanukah is not merely presents, food, or pleasant music. It teaches us to step beyond the narrow view of today's trouble and recognize the many times Hashem has sustained us.

And Yosef HaTzaddik shows us how to find that little light during the darkest moment.

## Yosef and the Fragrant Caravan

When Yosef's brothers sold him, the Torah says that a caravan of Yishmaelim came carrying **"נכאת וצרי ולט"**—fragrant spices and balsam (Bereishis 37:25).

Rashi explains that such merchants commonly carried unpleasant cargo, yet this caravan brought good fragrances, so that the *tzaddik* would not have to suffer an offensive smell on his journey to Mitzrayim.

But what consolation was that? Yosef was being sold into slavery, separated from his father, and taken to a strange country! A pleasant smell for a few moments cannot remove such terrible pain.

My *zeide* used to say a beautiful *vort*. Yosef HaTzaddik lived with the question: **where is the Ribbono Shel Olam in what is happening to me?** Even in darkness, he looked for the hand of Hashem.

So when an unusually fragrant caravan arrived at precisely that moment, Yosef could recognize a message. "The Ribbono Shel Olam has not forgotten me. He is here with me even now." A few moments of fragrance could be a tremendous **chizuk** because they revealed *hashgachah*.

That is what the **neiros Chanukah** teach. They are a little light in a dark world. They did not end all the struggles of the Chashmona'im. But they showed that **Hashem was still with Klal Yisrael**. It gave them strength to continue.

Now think about Yosef's entire story. When he was thrown into the pit, he could have thought his life was finished. He saw only *choshech*. But years later he became a ruler in Mitzrayim and helped save his entire family. In retrospect, the pit was not the end. It was part of the beginning of the *yeshuah*.

That is why I think the plural **"על הנסים ... ועל התשועות"** is so meaningful. A person has to recognize not only one miracle but everything that grows from it. The *yeshuah* can extend over years.

Let's return to the *Midrash* about Yosef making a *brachah* when he revisited the pit. We asked why it was on his way back. Perhaps we can now understand the answer.

## Looking Back at the Bor: A Miracle Seen Differently

We asked why Yosef made the *brachah* **"שעשה לי נס במקום הזה"** when he passed the pit on the way back from Yaakov's *levayah*.

Think of the two journeys to Mitzrayim. The first time, Yosef was being brought down against his will. He had been taken from his father, thrown into a pit, and sold. He could only see danger and darkness.

Now, many years later, Yosef returns to Mitzrayim after burying his father. He knows how the story developed. He became a leader of the land, sustained his family, and played a role in the survival of Klal Yisrael.

When he sees the pit again, **the pit is no longer only a place of suffering**. He realizes that what once seemed the end of everything was part of the beginning of his mission.

So he can stand there and say **"שעשה לי נס במקום הזה"** with a new depth of appreciation. In this *derush*, the *brachah* recognizes not only the immediate rescue from the snakes and scorpions, but the chain of *chesed* that followed.

And that's the meaning I want to draw from **"שעשה נסים לאבותינו בימים ההם בזמן הזה."** The *nes* of the past is connected to the very existence of Klal Yisrael in the present. We recognize how Hashem carried us **עד הזמן הזה**, until this time.

It's like **Shehecheyanu**: **"שהחיינו וקימנו והגיענו לזמן הזה"**. Hashem kept us alive and brought us here. That itself is a reason for thanksgiving.

There is a difference between living with the past as a burden and looking back for **hakaras hatov**. We should not get trapped in yesterday's pain. But we must not forget yesterday's kindnesses.

A Yid has to look back and remember the *yeshuos* and *chasadim*. Then he can see that his life is not only today's worry.

## "Bikeish Yaakov Leishev Beshalvah"

Let me tell you another *vort*. Chazal say: **"ביקש יעקב לישב בשלוה קפץ עליו רוגזו של יוסף"**—Yaakov Avinu sought to sit in tranquility, and the trouble of Yosef overtook him (Rashi on Bereishis 37:2).

What's wrong with wanting *shalvah*? Why shouldn't a *tzaddik* be able to live peacefully?

When I was a child, I saw a *Chassidishe vort* offering a remarkable approach: perhaps the trouble of Yosef didn't come simply **to prevent** Yaakov's tranquility. Perhaps it was the path **through which Yaakov would eventually receive it**.

Think of the final years of Yaakov's life. The Torah says **"ויחי יעקב בארץ מצרים שבע עשרה שנה"** (Bereishis 47:28). He spent seventeen years reunited with Yosef, with his family together and his needs provided for. Those years are described in *sefarim* as especially good years.

How did those years become possible? Through the painful road Yosef had traveled.

When I first saw that *vort*, I resisted it. I thought it was turning Chazal upside down. But the older I get, the more I appreciate the life lesson. Sometimes what seems like absolute darkness becomes part of the road to a *yeshuah* that we can recognize only afterward.

I am not claiming to know why every difficulty occurs, or that we will understand all suffering. The *mussar* is that when we look back, we can often recognize **chesed** we could not see in the moment.

That is a lesson of Chanukah.

## "Lehodos Ulehallel Leshimcha Hagadol"

*Rabosai*, I don't know whether that *Chassidishe vort* is the literal *pshat* in the Midrash. But as a lesson about life, I have come to appreciate it deeply.

Every person passes through darkness, troubles, and *nisyonos*. A person looking only at the immediate moment may see nothing else. But when he starts to look back, put the events together, and recognize the kindnesses Hashem performed along the way, he begins to understand **the light that was there even in the darkness**.

That is the *avodah* of Chanukah. Not only looking at the candles and moving on, but learning to see the **nisim and niflaos** of the Ribbono Shel Olam throughout our lives.

We say in *davening*: **"ועל נסיך שבכל יום עמנו ועל נפלאותיך וטובותיך שבכל עת"**—for Your miracles that are with us every day, and Your wonders and kindnesses at every moment.

And now there's one more beautiful *ha'arah*. We say Chanukah was established **"להודות ולהלל לשמך הגדול"**—to thank and praise Your great Name.

Why **"לשמך הגדול"**? Aren't we thanking Hashem for the miracle?

I heard an explanation from a friend who related a teaching of his father. The point is that *hoda'ah* doesn't stop at recognizing that something good happened. **True thanksgiving leads a person to recognize the greatness of the One Who gave it.**

When you look at one event, you thank Hashem for that event. When you look back at a whole life of guidance, at the survival of Klal Yisrael, and at miracle upon miracle, you begin to appreciate something of **Shem Hashem**, the greatness of the Ribbono Shel Olam.

And this brings *simchah*. Not a denial of pain or difficulties, but a profound joy rooted in **hakaras hatov**.

Now return to where we began: **"על הנסים ... ועל התשועות ... ועל המלחמות"**. Perhaps the language is plural because the *hoda'ah* of Chanukah includes the many salvations that unfolded from what happened then, and the many kindnesses Hashem continues to do for us **בזמן הזה**.

And perhaps this also joins the two teachings in Shabbos about the high Chanukah lamp and Yosef's pit. The pit looked dark and empty, but from that pit Yosef eventually rose to greatness. Chanukah emerged from darkness into a renewed light for Klal Yisrael.

So *rabosai*, the lesson is **to look back, recognize, and thank**. Think of the darkness, see the light Hashem brought through it, and let that recognition become *simchah* and *hoda'ah*.

That is Chanukah: **להודות ולהלל לשמך הגדול**.