A few moments ago, I lit the menorah for the third night of Chanukah. As I write this post, the candles stand upright and proud in their holders, casting small yet hardy flames into the air above them. True, Chanukah isn't considered among the holiest of days in the Jewish calendar, but it does carry powerful messages for us to consider as we try to find our path in a world that often seems cast in darkness and shadows.
One of the central themes of Chanukah is the victory of the small band of Hasmoneans against the much larger Syrian-Greek army. As a classic culture, the Greeks had a lot to offer, and they were eager to share their Hellenist rituals and beliefs with the Jews--but the Jews weren't interested. Simply put, the Jews didn't want what the Greeks were selling. They appreciated many things about Greek culture--in fact, Judaism has often praised the ancient Greeks for their linguistic and philosophical contributions to the world. But although they were able to see the virtues of the Greeks, the Jews didn't want to be Greek--they wanted to be Jews, and they had to fight for their right to remain true to themselves.
This is a predicament that continues to face us today. As we grow and develop into ourselves, there is no shortage of people who are waiting to give us advice and tell us how they think we should live our lives. Sometimes, outside influence comes in the form of family or close friends who tell us what we should consider, what we should prioritize, what we should value. Other times, input comes from our surrounding culture that informs us, in no uncertain terms, of how we should dress, how we should speak, how we should behave. It is easy to be intimidated and confused in the face of all those "shoulds," and when we let those "shoulds" dictate our choices, that's when we start to lose ourselves. As a person who tries hard to avoid confrontation, I fully appreciate the challenge and scariness of bucking the trend. But, I also know that I spent many years of my life believing there were only two options--conform, or disappear--and neither of those was entirely successful (or satisfying). Slowly, I began to wonder if there might be a third option...and Chanukah teaches us that there is.
Chanukah is about the fight that we all must undertake to live by our own light. It's about remaining true to ourselves in the face of intense cultural pressure and not losing sight of our own priorities and visions. Chanukah reminds us that this is indeed a fight worth fighting, and that if we are willing to go through the struggle that growth entails, we will emerge stronger and more vital.
We light the Chanukah candles in accordance with the tradition of Beit Hillel: one candle for the first night, two for the second, and so on in an increasing manner. Hillel based his ruling on the principle of ma'alin ba'kodesh ve'ayn moridin--one increases in matters of holiness, and does not diminish. So it is with ourselves--if we do the work of living authentically and speaking our truth, our strength and virtue will increase, as will the light that we are able to share with others.
This Chanukah season, may we all have the courage to use our own light to guide us out of whatever darkness in which we find ourselves.
