A Response to the Chanukah Massacre at Bondi Beach: Miketz 5786
Terrorism is about more than injuring and killing people, it’s about creating a fear that forces people to alter their lives for the worse. Days after the October 7 attacks, Nassau County executive, Bruce Blakeman invited the county’s rabbis to meet with him to address the Jewish community’s security concerns. One of my colleagues asked Blakeman if he felt that we should hold services in our respective synagogues on the coming Shabbat. Though Blakeman did not give a yes or no answer, he did point out that while we should certainly take precautions, curtailing the way we live to the point which avoids joining together worship, is itself a victory for the terrorist.
Kindling the chanukiya symbolizes our refusal to allow hatemongers to dictate how we will live. The eight branched chanukiya is modeled upon the seven branched menorah that stood in the Tabernacle & Temple. It is widely believed that the menorah itself was based on the Genus Salvia plant (part of the sage family) which is native to the Middle East. The plant is small and upright with three branches on each side and one in the middle. Its whorls of bright flowers appear to be burning, mimicking the flames of a candelabra. The Torah’s description of the menorah strengthens the argument that it is based on this plant by describing it as “a seven-branched candelabra … with three branches on each side, adorned with almond-shaped cups, buds, and blossoms.”
The fact that the menorah burned continuously, that is, it was kindled every single evening, leads some to go as far as to posit that the menorah was based on the burning bush, a small ever burning bush that could not be consumed by the fire. In a recent article in Commentary, Rabbi Meir Soloveichick suggests that one of the underlining reasons for antisemitism is jealousy. But why would one be jealous of small, often oppressed people?
The answer is that this small, downtrodden people, like the bush, cannot be consumed. In other words, the Jewish people have withstood the test of time, while the great empires which oppressed them, burned out. Yes, the lights of the great empires may have burned brighter than the light of the Jews, but unlike the Jewish flame, their flame was not eternal. In the back of their minds, those who have poisoned their cultures with antisemitism are worried that their culture, even though it may be currently flourishing, will not withstand the test of time as Judaism has.
Today, if you want to see the Roman Eagle, you have to go to a museum or historical site. Yet, if you want to see a representation of the menorah that the vanquished Jews carried with them into exile in Rome, all you have to do is walk by a Jewish house during Chanukah and you will see the lights of the eight branched chanukiyah, which is based on the seven branched menorah.
The primary mitzvah of Chanukah is pirsumei nisa, publicizing the miracle of Chanukah which we do by kindling the chanukiya in a place visible to passersbys. Rabbi Mose Isserles rules, that even if there are no passersbys, one can light the chanukiya for the benefit of his family, to remind them of the miracle of Chanukah. By logical extension, one can argue that one can light it for himself. The lights of Chanukah serve as a reminder to us that we as a people can survive this latest outbreak of antisemitism.
Parshat Miketz, which we read on Chanukah, teaches us how to survive as sojourners in a hostile culture. The response of Bnei Yisrael to Egyptian oppression wasn’t to fold, but increase and come back stronger than ever. Likewise, the Hasmoneans saved Judaism from the forces of Hellenization, which consumed every other culture it came into contact with and the modern state of Israel, which rose out of the ashes of a Holocaust.
As a boy, Rabbi Hugo Gryn, along with his father, was imprisoned in Auschwitz. During Chanukah his father constructed a chanukiya out of scraps of metal and used thread from a uniform for a wick and butter as oil. Hugo asked his father why he was using the butter to light the chanukiya when it could be used to feed somebody. His father responded that one can live for long periods without food, but not even a day without hope.
The light of the chanukiya is the light of hope. It provided us with light during our darkest days, and will continue to illuminate our future, for we are a people of tikvah, hope.
