Raising the Banner: The True Nes of Chanukah

On this final day of Chanukah, it’s worth asking – what have we actually been celebrating for the last 8 days?

Yes, we know: nes gadol hayah sham.

But what was the nes, exactly?

Was the nes the military victory of the Maccabees? No doubt, it was an impressive victory, but we do not have holidays for other, perhaps even more impressive military victories. We don’t celebrate the conquering Jericho, King David’s military victories over the Philistines, or the defeat of Amalek after the crossing of the Red Sea. 

Was the nes the oil? One day’s worth lasting for eight days is certainly remarkable.

But we do not celebrate other great miracles we experienced. We do not celebrate the manna, forty years of miraculous food. Or the moment when an entire army was struck blind, or the day the sun stood still.

And while the oil and the military victory are impressive, Jewish history reminds us that the end of the revolt, and of the Maccabees, was not simple.

The Chanukah revolt saved Judaism from extinction, yet the Hasmonean dynasty eventually became corrupt, Hellenized monarchs who illegally combined the roles of king and high priest. Their reign saw brutal civil wars, deep internal division, and moral decay. Their infighting grew so intense that they invited Roman intervention, leading directly to the loss of Jewish sovereignty and ultimately to the destruction of the Second Temple.

This may be one reason why the Book of Maccabees is not part of our Tanach. 

This is the end of our nes gadol?

It gets even stranger: Not only do we celebrate the nes for eight days, but Chanukah is marked by pirsumei nissa, the publicizing of the miracle, spreading it for the world to see.

Even other holidays with elements of pirsumei nissa do not go nearly as far.

We do not read Megillah in the streets. We do not hang matzah in our windows.

So what is this really about?

To understand, we can at the word nes. What is a nes?

In the Jewish bible, it turns out the word nes does NOT mean miracle.

The Torah uses other words for miracles: mofet and ot, signs and wonders. This the language of the 10 miraculous plagues.

But the word nes does not appear for the Plagues, or the splitting of the Sea, or the manna.

It appears first after the battle with Amalek:

“וַיִּבֶן מֹשֶׁה מִזְבֵּחַ וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ ה נִסִּי”

A battle, a victory, but the meaning is unclear. God is the miracle?

We get more clarity the second time the word appears:

“וַיֹּאמֶר ה׳ אֶל מֹשֶׁה עֲשֵׂה לְךָ שָׂרָף וְשִׂים אֹתוֹ עַל נֵס”

 “Then the Lord said to Moses: Make a seraph figure and mount it on a pole.”

There it is. Nes gadol. A great pole was raised there.

The word nes appears 21 times in Tanach in various forms. According to Daat Mikra on Ex. 17:15, in none of those cases does it mean a wondrous sign or miracle. It always means something like a waving pole or flag. It’s probably best translated as banner.

So what is a banner?

A banner is something visible, raised and waved in times of confusion or chaos.
A banner is a gathering point for safety and strength, a signal that if the banner is still waving, you are not alone.

Maybe the nes we publicize on Chanukah is not that the oil lasted eight days or that the Maccabees won a military victory.

Maybe the nes is the banner itself. Maybe we celebrate that a great raising of the Jewish banner happened there.

Chanukah is the only holiday we had for two thousand years that celebrated the Jewish people raising our banner high and visible to the world.

Purim happened behind closed doors.
Pesach required no initiative from us.

Chanukah is when we actively flew our Jewish flag high.

This is worth celebrating, especially when our banner is under attack.

Last Sunday morning, many of us woke up angry, depressed, resentful, determined, and more after the news of the attack on Jews celebrating Chanukah at Bondi Beach in Sydney.

But we were were not surprised. 

We should not be surprised, and the world should not be surprised.

When the story is repeated that the State of Israel is genocidal, when ancient accusations are revived that Jews poison wells or kill babies, when Hamas is celebrated as a resistance movement, when all of this is pumped endlessly across social media, when Zionism is named the singular most evil force on earth, then a target is placed on every Jew’s back across the globe.

So yes, none of this is surprising on a physical level.

And it is not surprising on a spiritual level either.

Rav Soloveitchik taught that we do not need to tell the world that we want to survive physically. A Jew is like anyone else and has an instinct for physical survival. But Hanukkah was a fight for spiritual survival.

And we are in that fight now.

So it is no surprise that we are attacked on our holidays. There is even a pattern.

They come after us on our holidays, on the very days when we raise our banner.

Manchester on Yom Kippur.
Colorado and Washington D.C. right before Shavuot.
Governor Shapiro’s home firebombed on Pesach.
And of course, October 7 on Shemini Atzeret two years ago.

This is part of a broader spiritual attack.

We are told we have no right to live or exercise sovereignty in the Land of Israel, despite our ancient and unbroken connection. We are told that we are settler-colonialists, the worst category one can be in places like Australia or the United States. The irony is staggering.

We are told that there are acceptable kinds of Jews and unacceptable kinds of Jews. We are encouraged to feel ashamed, to hide our identities.

This has real spiritual impact, especially on the young.

But I want to say something counterintuitive, and for me, helpful:

Antisemitism is not our problem,

Jew hatred and antisemitism are not Jewish problems.

We pay the costs.
Financial.
Emotional.
Psychological.
And sometimes with our lives.

The cost of fighting antisemitism, when imposed on the Jewish community, is immense.

But it is not our problem. It is the world’s problem.

We did not create it.
Jew hatred has nothing to do with us.
Billions of people around the world hold antisemitic views without ever meeting a Jew.

Jew hatred is a religion.

It is not politics or social justice. It provides a total worldview. It answers the oldest question: Why is there evil in the world? Whatever the evil may be, the answer is the Jew.

Those who argue that antisemitism is a response to Jewish choices or Jewish power are mistaken at best. At worst, they are offering apologetics for an ancient cult, granting cover to a darkness that has nothing to do with us and everything to do with them.

And societies must confront it for their own sake.

Empires and cultures that centered hatred of Am Yisrael have crumbled: Amalek, the Greek Empire, the Roman Empire, the Spanish Empire, Nazi Germany, the USSR. Those who elevate hatred of Jews today will crumble as well.

And our banner will still wave.

That does not mean we sit and cry. We must be smart, strategic, engaged. Work with government. Hold systems accountable. Build relationships where we can.

But we cannot end antisemitism alone.

Ultimately, societies around us will have to confront and uproot it.

Our work is not to crush antisemitism.

Our work is to raise the banner.

“וַיִּבֶן מֹשֶׁה מִזְבֵּחַ וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ ה נִסִּי”

Our work is to remember what the banner truly is.

God is the banner.

Raising the banner is not always simple.
Sometimes we argue over how to raise it.
Over who gets to hold it.
Sometimes we drop it.
Sometimes we forget what it stands for.

The Maccabees raised it, but later fell into corruption and violence.

There are Jews who think the banner is only about physical strength and power.

We must elevate ourselves into the nes. Our strength exists to hold up the banner, not for its own sake. Strength is necessary, but kocheinu and otzem yadeinu are never to be worshipped.

Adonai nissi.

God is the banner.
The center around which we build, create, and nourish life. Jewish life, which so many seek to destroy.

That is the nes of Chanukah.
And it is a nes gadol.

Every time we devote ourselves to Torah and mitzvot, that is a nes.
Every time a Jewish child stands up proudly to bullies in school, that is a nes.
Every time we are unapologetic about our Jewish values, commitments, and identities, that is a nes.

Again and again, we have lifted the banner.
Bayamim hahem.

And it does feel heavy sometimes.

But may we keep lifting it.
And may we know many more nisim.

Many more liftings of the banner.
Lifted high in pride and light.
Lifted in peace and health.
Lifted in strength.

Bazman hazeh.
In our days. Now.
Amen.