24 Dec A TITANIC VICTORY AND A SMALL CRUSE OF OIL EYES FIXED ON ETERNITY

There is something
strange about the

Chanukah celebra-
tion.

The festival of
C h a n u k a h
commemorates

an extraordinary victory — of the Mac-
cabees, a relatively small and dedicated

force of fighters, against one of the great
imperial powers of classical antiquity,
the Seleucid branch of the Alexandrian
empire.
This story takes us back to the year
164 BCE, some 150 years before the
birth of Christianity and two centuries
before the destruction of the Second
Temple by the Romans. Israel was then
under the rule of the empire of Alexander
the Great. A Syrian ruler Antiochus the
5th ascended the throne, and he was
determined to impose his values on the
Jewish people. He forbade the practice
of Judaism, set up a statue of Zeus in the
Temple, and systematically desecrated
Jerusalem’s holy sites. Jews who were
caught practicing Judaism were tortured
to death. This was tyranny on a grand
scale. Sadly, he was helped in this
endeavor by two Jewish high priests,
Jason and Menelaus, who assisted him
in banning the Jewish lifestyle and
turning the Temple into an
interdenominational house of worship
on Greek lines.
To put it into historical perspective,
had Antiochus succeeded, Judaism
would have died. Its daughter religions
— Christianity and Islam – would have,
of course, never come to be.
A small group of Jews, led by the
elderly priest Matityahu and his sons,
rose in revolt. They fought a brilliant
campaign, and within three years they
had recaptured Jerusalem, removed
sacrilegious objects from the Temple,
and restored Jewish autonomy. It was,
as we say in the Chanukah prayers, a
victory for ‘the weak against the strong,
and the few against the many.’ Religious
liberty was established and the Temple
was rededicated. Chanukah means
“rededication.”
This was a remarkable event. We, the
Jewish people, are here today only
because of the courage and vision of
this small group of determined Jews
who would not allow their G-d and their

Torah to be reduced to the dustbins of
history by the Syrian-Greek tyrant.
Yet astonishingly, the Talmud, the
classical text of Jewish law and
literature, gives us a very different
perspective on the Chanukah festival.
“What is Chanukah?” asks the Talmud
(Talmud, Shabbat 21b.) The answer
given is this:
“When the Greeks entered the
Sanctuary, they contaminated all its oil.
Then, when the royal Hasmonean
family overpowered and was victorious
over them, they searched and found
only a single cruse of pure oil that was
sealed with the seal of the High Priest—
enough to light the menorah for a single
day. A miracle occurred, and they lit the
menorah with this oil for eight days.
The following year, they established
these [eight days] as days of festivity
and praise and thanksgiving for G-d.”
So, according to the Talmud, the
festival of Chanukah is less about the
military victory of a small band of Jews
against one of the mightiest armies on
earth, and more about the miracle of the
oil. The Talmud makes only a passing
reference to the military victory (“when
the royal Hasmonean family
overpowered and was victorious”), and
focuses on the story with the oil, as if
this were the only significant event
commemorated by the festival of lights.
This is strange. The miracle of the oil,
it would seem, was of minor significance
relative to the military victory. Besides
the fact that this was a miracle that
occurred behind the closed doors of the
Temple with only a few priests to
behold, it was an event concerning a
religious symbol without any
consequences on life, death, and liberty.
If the Jews would have been defeated by
the Greeks, there would be no Jews
today; if the oil would have not burnt
for eight days, so what? The menorah
would have not been kindled. Would the
latkes taste any worse?
Compare Chanukah to Passover and
Purim. In both of these holidays, we
celebrate the salvation of the Jewish
people from genocide. On Chanukah, in
contrast, we are celebrating that the oil
lasted for eight days?!
Imagine that following the Israeli

victory of the 1967 six-day war, during
which six Arab armies were determined
to exterminate Israel and its three
million Jews, a candle located in a
Jerusalem synagogue would have
burned for six days. Sure, it would have
added a nice sentimental touch to the
euphoria of Israel’s salvation, but would
have this, rather than the deliverance of
millions of innocent human beings from
a second holocaust, been the cause of
the celebration? Would this detail even
make it to the front page of the news?
The burning of the Temple menorah
for eight days was, no doubt, a
heartwarming follow-up to a great
victory. It was a demonstrative sign that
G-d cherished the sacrifice of His
children and had rewarded them with a
display of unique affection. Yet this was

merely the icing on the cake, a coup-de-
grace to a historical momentous victory

on the battlefield. Yet the Talmud turns
this minor detail into the decisive motif
for the Chanukah celebration!
What is more, the miracle with the oil
is the only element of the Chanukah
events that we commemorate to this
very day. We have no custom or ritual
commemorating a miraculous triumph.
What we do have is the kindling of a
menorah for eight days, commemorating
the fact that the oil in the Temple
menorah lasted for eight days.
The answer allows us to appreciate
the essential ingredient that has defined
4,000 years of Jewish history. The
military victory was extraordinary, yet it
didn’t last. The dynasty of the
Hasmonean family became entrenched
in civil war and corruption. 210 years
after Chanukah, in 68 CE, the Temple
was destroyed, this time by the Romans.
Jerusalem was plundered, Israel was
decimated, and the Jewish people
exiled. It was the beginning of a period
of Jewish powerlessness, dispersion,
and persecution which had lasted almost
two millennia.
The political and military victory of
Chanukah did not last. What lasted was
the spiritual miracle—the faith which,
like the oil, was inextinguishable.
Strength that is founded on military
power alone is temporary. It may endure
for long periods of time, but ultimately,
its might will wane, and it will be

defeated by another power. The strength
that is founded on moral and spiritual
light can never be destroyed.
With their eyes focused on eternity,
the rabbis of the Second Temple era
grasped that the timeless core of
Chanukah was not the victory on the
battlefield alone, but rather the fact that

this military triumph led to the re-
kindling of the sacred light and the

moral torch. The military victory was an
enormously significant event that we
must be deeply grateful for. Yet what

makes Chanukah a vibrant and heart-
stirring holiday thousands of years later

across the globe is the story of a little
cruse of oil that would not cease to cast
its brightness even in the darkest of
nights and among the mightiest of
winds.
For more than two millennia, Jews
have been gathering around their
Chanukah menorahs kindling each
night an additional candle. As they
gazed at the dancing flame atop their
menorahs they can hear the candles
sharing their story. It consisted of a
simple punch line: The flame of Jewish
faith, the flame of Torah, the flame of
the Mitzvos, would never be
extinguished. The candles were right:
Judaism lives.
Imperial Greece and Rome have long
since disappeared. Civilizations built on
power never last. Those built on care for
the powerless never die. What matters
in the long run is not simply political,
military or economic strength but how
we light the flame of the human spirit.