Chanukah, the power of light in darkness

In this article, Levi Attias explores the origin and meaning of the Jewish festival of Chanukah, which started last night.

Stories are many of Jews lighting Chanukah candles in bare bulb-light basements in the frenzied turmoil of the Inquisition in 15th century Spain, in hideaways during the Nazi rampage in Europe, or in freezing Siberia where countless Jews who wished to emigrate from the Soviet Union were imprisoned. Narratives provide patent proof how Jews looked for shreds of thread to serve as wick, shoe polish as intended fuel and wooden sticks to trigger embers to light Chanukah candles. In so doing, they yearned for the succour of flickering candle-lights wrapped in an ancient narrative of resilience and faith and hope.

This year, the eight-day festival of Chanukah started at nightfall on Sunday the 14th December. The festival celebrates the story of the power and glory of a people’s spirit set against the military prowess of an invader. By the year 337 BCE, feuding Greek city-states started to coalesce under the strong rule of Philip of Macedon until he was assassinated, leaving an heir, Alexander. Alexander, known as ‘the Great’, became a mythologised, larger than life, figure. At some time during his conquests, Alexander visited Jerusalem. His unexpected death threw his empire into turmoil. By 290 BCE, three major kingdoms had developed, each led by one of Alexander’s generals. During the reign of Ptolemy II, (285-246 BCE), the Hebrew Bible was translated into Greek by seventy Hebrew Bible scholars. The translation was known as the ‘Septuagint’ (the translation of the seventy). In 185 BCE, Antiochus IV Epiphanes, (the ‘Madman’), came to power pursuing an aggressive imposition of Greek culture. Jews were forced to give up their faith. Antiochus demanded all his subjects to replace their religious and cultural traditions with Greek culture. Jews were forbidden from observing the Sabbath and Jewish practices, such as circumcision, were prohibited. Jerusalem’s Temple was desecrated, pigs were sacrificed there and a statue of Zeus Olympus was placed in the Temple.

In the city of Modi’in, a band of Jews, led by the Temple High Priest Matatiyahu and his five sons, pulled together a group of fighters thus launching the Maccabean revolt. Two years later, the occupying Greek forces were defeated. The defiled Temple was reclaimed and rededicated to its former glory. The Temple’s seven-branched candelabrum, the Menorah, would be lit again. However, it was soon noted there was only enough virgin oil to light the candelabrum for one day. It would take eight days for pure olive oil to be processed for Temple services. The Temple priests opted to light the candelabrum despite the limited quantity of oil. Miraculously, the limited quantity of oil kept the candelabrum wicks alight for eight days until virgin oil was processed and procured for Temple worship. Two miracles fused in the Chanukah story: the military successes and the miracle of the long-lasting oil. It is, however, the latter that motivates the festival of Chanukah. Chanukah candles (or oil wicks) are lit by a windowsill or public thoroughfare, as we proclaim a timeless message of the might of light over darkness.

Typical of Jewish tradition, the manner of lighting Chanukah candles underwent debates by our sages. Should we light one candle on the first night and an additional candle every night thereafter? Or, should we light only one candle each night? Or, should we light eight candles each night? Or, should we light eight candles on the first night, seven on the seventh night, reducing the number of candles on each succeeding night? It was decided that in matters of the spirit, we increase spiritual values.

Hence, on the first night of Chanukah we light one candle, on the second night, two candles, until on the eighth and last night we light eight candles. Rabbi Hillel, who died in 10 C.E., opined, “in sacred matters we elevate, and do not lower the degree of holiness.” Candles are lit with the aid of an additional candle. Excluding the additional candle, we light a total of 36 oil wicks or candles during the festival. Mystical sources teach that Adam lived 36 hours in radiant bliss in the Garden of Eden. Interestingly, the story of Chanukah took place 36 centuries from Biblical creation and the word ‘or’ (light) appears 36 times in the Hebrew Bible.

‘Or’ (light) is a potent energy. The Book of Genesis relates that God created light on the first day of Creation separating light from darkness to structure day and night. Our deeply ingrained physiological, emotional, intellectual and spiritual attraction to light and to all it symbolizes, means that Jewish tradition is not shy in making use, copiously, of candles in rituals at home and in synagogues. Weekly, we usher in the Sabbath before sunset on Fridays by lighting candles. Although candlelight plays an assortment of roles in Jewish life, only Chanukah celebrations revolve around candle lights. Upon lighting the Chanukah candles, we are forbidden from using the light of the flames for any purpose other than to stare at them, as we ruminate, mesmerised by the miracle of the Chanukah story. The Zohar, the foundational work of mystical and Kabbalistic literature, deals with metaphysical aspects of the Hebrew Bible, inspiring us, when staring at a flame, to discern and focus on its five constituent colours: white, yellow, red, black, sky-blue. My personal preference for lighting Chanukah lights is to use oil wicks instead of wax candles given that the Temple candelabrum used olive oil. According to sources in the Zohar, the sky-blue colour discernible in a flame is a revelation of its spiritual composition, more easily spotted in flames fed by olive oil. Additionally, the fragrance of oil evaporates into our rooms leaving a faint, natural olive aroma spreading serenity.

Lighting Chanukah candles is a compelling reminder that the long struggle against religious and political coercion forces us to keep ourselves alert to proselytising and intrusive forces insisting their way is the only way to spiritual or political satiety, salvation and success. Chanukah’s silent flames are a roaring salute to freedom of conscience and the fundamental right to hold personal convictions without coercion and sanctions.

Aside from lighting candles or oil wicks, it is tempting for those who wish to be tempted, to indulge in fried foodstuffs such as finger-licking, jam-filled doughnuts or ‘japonesas’. This is the festival for binging on oil-fried delicacies. The process of oil extraction from olives brings us lessons in resilience. When an olive is crushed, it releases oil. Although olives appear as a simple fruit, inside this tiny fruit is its juice, oil. Oil not only contains an assortment of dietary properties, but its flavoured liquid is able to quash and dispel darkness. Oil, inherent in the olive, is extracted by a process of stomping, stamping and crushing olives. The process of oil extraction from the olive serves as a lesson that by tapping into reserves of creativity, stamina and resilience, we are able to confront life’s strain and pain and stomping to find meaning in moments of consuming meaninglessness and resilience in moments of consuming impotence.

On lighting Chanukah candles, we say blessings and sing songs while staring at the flames reflecting on the choppiness, yet vibrance, of the Jewish story. We note that had the Jewish spirit been defeated during the of reign of Antiochus, much of world history would have been very different; there would have been no Jewish families in Jerusalem, Bethlehem or Nazareth.

At this time of the year nights are long, dark and cold. The flickering warmth and recurrent cheer of Christmas lights, with their soft glow, and the festival’s festive scents and songs, unite people in seasonal joy. This year, Christmas and Chanukah do not fall on exactly the same days. Jews can be found busy lighting Chanukah candle lights at home and in synagogue adding to the predominance of lights and the spiritual fervour of the season as humankind yearns for universal fraternity and universal peace. Chanuka candles flicker quietly, carrying a formidable message: we all know the power of darkness; yet, a thousand times stronger is the muscle of light.