The Blogs: Together we can illuminate the darkness: Acheinu and Chanukah

Over the last 15 months, many songs have become popular in various Jewish circles, each echoing themes of strength, resilience, and perseverance.

But few have been more steadily prominent and relevant than Acheinu.

The melody which has become universally known, was written by composer Abie Rottenberg to the words of the prayer from nearly a dozen centuries earlier:

“אַחֵינוּ כָּל בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל, הַנְּתוּנִים בְּצָרָה וּבַשִּׁבְיָה, הָעוֹמְדִים בֵּין בַּיָּם וּבֵין בַּיַּבָּשָׁה, הַמָּקוֹם יְרַחֵם עֲלֵיהֶם, וְיוֹצִיאֵם מִצָּרָה לִרְוָחָה, וּמֵאֲפֵלָה לְאוֹרָה, וּמִשִּׁעְבּוּד לִגְאֻלָּה, הַשְׁתָּא בַּעֲגָלָא וּבִזְמַן קָרִיב. ונאמר אמן

As for our brothers and sisters, the whole house of Israel, who are given over to trouble or captivity, whether they abide on the sea or on the dry land: May the All-present have mercy upon them and bring them forth from trouble to enlargement, from darkness to light, and from subjection to redemption, now speedily and at a near time. Now let us say, “Amen.”

I have lost count of how many times I have heard Acheinu sung. It is used both in response to times of tragedy and pain and the few moments of joy and celebration. From the early moments after October 7th, this prayer and its widely popular melody have become an anthem of hope and resilience, as well as a desperate plea for the release of the hostages and the healing of those suffering.

At this point, many are certainly tired of hearing and singing this short song. Of course, there are only so many times one can hear and listen to any song without needing a break. The amount of times I have heard and sung this song has led to my thinking greatly about it and its meaning. I believe that the message of togetherness, greatly emphasized by Acheinu, is of existential importance, a reminder of how to meet the moment we are in, especially when thought about on the festive holiday of Chanukah.

When writing this piece, I was initially hesitant about focusing on October 7th, which there is certainly much fatigue about and a desire on my part to allow the festive nature of Chanukah to be what consumes us. I reconcile these concerns in two ways. First, with the realization that October 7th and the ensuing aftermath for global Jewry will always be part of our history and is an ongoing issue, especially for the hostages and their families, and ignoring that altogether is likely a mistake. I also understood that my piece is a way of looking forward and gleaning from current and past experiences and not a way of looking back.

Acheinu is largely about a plea for the redemption of those in captivity, which is certainly why it has become a staple of all of our gatherings and resonated so deeply. But it also calls for all of our brethren to go from “trouble to enlargement, (and) from darkness to light.” It is a prayer not for oneself and personal assistance but the acknowledgment that we are joined together and need to be helped as a collective entity.

In the craziness that is our everyday life and the necessary response to trouble and strife, we can easily find ourselves separated and lose sight of the importance of being together. I view this required togetherness to be more of a spiritual and societal mindset than anything else. Yes, I yearn for a time when this is the political and religious reality, where we are harmonious and can completely put aside pre-conceived differences, but that is truly complicated and will not happen overnight. For now, it is the sentiment of Acheinu that we must adopt. You are my brother, and I am yours, a sense of collective feeling and responsibility that transcends anything else.

One of the primary mitzvot of Chanukah is the lighting of candles to publicize the miracle of Chanukah. In fact, the Gemara in Shabbat emphasizes that in their view, the publicizing of the lighting of the candles and the miracle we are commemorating is tantamount to anything else. The mere act of publicizing the miracle is a separation from individualism and an understanding of our collective nature.

Rabbi Chaim Friedlander touches on the multiple meanings of the obligation to publicize the miracle of Chanukah. “The obligation of publicizing the miracle of Hanukkah first and foremost is on the person lighting the menorah. By lighting the candles, a person needs to contemplate and feel the greatness of the miracle of Hanukkah.” We are first reminding ourselves of the miracle and our obligation to continue spreading light, but it also is a reminder to the rest of our families, fellow Jews, and others in our midst of the meaning of the light. If it were just about ourselves, there would be no issue with lighting the candles in our rooms.

Menorah lighting

Rabbi Yosef Dov Soliveitchik touches on the importance of publicizing the miracle beyond our communities. “Rashi explains that Jews need to publicize the miracle of Hanukkah to non-Jews as well… we need to publicize the miracle of Hanukkah to non-Jews as well to show the world that God saved us, and we would not succumb to others who are trying to prevent us from practicing our religion.” Part of the positive commandment is to publicize our resilience. We are celebrating the continued ability of us as Jews to continue practicing our religion and gather to study and pray, which is ultimately what the Greeks were trying to prevent. Not only are we publicizing the specific miracle but the repercussions of that miracle and our collective identity and peoplehood.

Chanukah, in my mind, is the premier Jewish festival of giving and gathering. This may not be in the traditional sense, like the holidays of Pesach and Sukkot, among others, where we are explicitly told to join together, or Purim, where we are commanded to give. The gathering and giving of Hanukkah are not explicit commandments but how the holiday is widely practiced and celebrated these days. Each night is filled with countless public menorah lightings and gatherings across the globe and the giving of gifts, at least to those fortunate enough to receive them. Chanukah comes at a time of both physical and metaphorical darkness. The holiday allows us to bring light to those around us so that we can collectively experience joy and meaning in our lives.

Even the lighting of the candles hints at the deep significance of being together. The previous night is not fully relevant without the one that follows it. Each is in itself significant, but the most light comes from the last night when all eight candles are illuminating our surroundings. Similarly, while the flames themselves are meaningful, the fuel and oil are what is equally important for the light to shine. Without the individual, there is no collective, but without the collective, there is also no individual strength and light.

Gathering is embedded in the Jewish DNA. We gather in times of tragedy, celebration, prayer, or merely because we feel like gathering. It is a uniquely collective activity that is rendered meaningless without the aspect of being together with others. A gathering of one individual is just someone being alone. I view gatherings to be very meaningful not only from the aspect of physically being with many people but also from the mindset of those gatherings. It is the belief that we are all brothers and sisters and not alone. To navigate the darkness and provide light we must operate as a collective. It is the acceptance of the famous talmudic quote “All Jews are responsible for each other” that is required of us. Rather than prioritize ourselves as individuals and our own lights, we must kindle a flame which is a light for everyone and collectively move. The sound of a singular person singing Acheinu may be comforting but the collective voices of hundreds calling out in song together is all the more meaningful and much more impactful. Let us remember to move forward together as we navigate through the darkness and add light to the world.