14 Dec PLAYING MY SONG

 Several years ago, in my younger days, I was in a get-into-shape mode. I joined a gym, and signed up for a women’s step class.

All was good. And then came December. I walked into class. Something was different. The music changed, it was livelier, cheerier. I listened to the lyrics. It was holiday music, just not my holiday.

Exercise to X-mas music? 

My inner conscience, my neshamah, the spiritual flame within, started talking to me. “You can’t stay here. This isn’t for you. They’re not playing your song.” Then and there I made a decision. I’m walking out.

I thought of the Chanukah story from years long ago. The story of the Jewish nation living under the tyrannical rule of Antiochus Epipanes. Antiochus wanted to expand the power and influence of the Greek empire. He had his own “Final Solution”. Not to physically annihilate, but to spiritually assimilate the Jews among the Greeks. He waged a war against the Jewish soul, with the goal of extinguishing the fiery spirit within the neshamah. He brought Greek philosophy, religious beliefs, culture, entertainment – and yes – even gymnasiums to the Holy Land. He wanted to wipe out the nation’s Jewish identity. They should dress, act, and even think like the Greeks.

As we recite in Al Hanisim, Antiochus’ aim was “to make them (Bnei Yisroel) forget Your Torah, and compel them to stray from Your will”. He forbade the Jewish people from keeping mitzvos that separated them from other nations. Shabbos, Bris Milah, Rosh Chodesh (the lunar calendar), and the learning of Torah were prohibited. Observances punishable by torture and even death. Antiochus understood that these mitzvos not only separated them, but built a strong connection between Am Yisroel and HaShem – a connection he wanted to sever.

Antiochus tried to break the nation’s spirit. He enacted a law instructing the people to inscribe upon the horns of their oxen “You have no part in the G-d of Yisroel”. Every time the Jewish people went out to work their oxen in the fields, they saw these words: “You have no part in the G-d of Israel”. Words to make them feel forgotten about, abandoned.

Antiochus’ enactments continued. He brazenly placed a statue of Zeus in the Bais HaMikdash, and offered sacrifices to pagan gods. It was a time of darkness for Am Yisroel.

Kislev. The month of Chanukah. Chanukah comes during the darkest time of the year, when the days are the shortest, and the nights are longest. For the Jewish people living under the Greek oppressors, the times weren’t just physically dark; they were spiritually dark as well.

Sadly, there were the Misyavnim, Hellenists, those within the Jewish nation who succumbed to Greek values and beliefs. They experienced, choshech – darkness. It is interesting that the Hebrew word choshech, spelled ches, shin, chof, contains the same letters as the word shochach – shin, chof, ches, meaning to forget. Unfortunately, the Hellenists forgot – shochach – their Jewish identity. 

But there was a determined group of Jews who fought back. The Maccabees, led by Mattisyahu and his five sons, fought a valiant battle, standing up to Antiochus and the Greeks. HaShem was with them. “You delivered the strong into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few… ” (Al Hanisim prayer) The miracle of Chanukah.

The miracles didn’t stop there. They reclaimed the Bais HaMikdash, cleaned it up and removed the idolatrous symbols. They wanted to make a Chanukas HaBayis, to rededicate the Bais HaMikdash. We know that they found one jug of pure olive oil. A jug which symbolized the pure soul within man. An everlasting soul which yearns to connect to HaShem and His Torah. The pintele yid within each of us. “Ner HaShem nishmas adam – The candle of G-d is the soul of man.” (Mishlei 20:27)

The story of Chanukah is the story of our people. A people that refuse to allow their inner spark to be snuffed out. Throughout our long exile, there have been periods of spiritual choshech – darkness, where we unfortunately forget who we are. But HaShem never abandons His people, and gives us the wherewithal to grasp the lifeline to Him. In fact, within the word shochach, is the word koach – chof and ches – strength. The strength to return. The strength to once again see the light. No matter how far one may have drifted, HaShem always gives us the koach, the strength to return. When we light the Chanukah candles, we connect to HaShem. No matter how many mistakes we may have made in the past, how many regrets we may live with, we can always reconnect to our Father.

Though my gym is not the gymnasium of the ancient Greeks, I felt that I had to step away. We live in the world of golus, a world where we are surrounded by outside influences. A world where we are exposed to cultural values that are very different from Jewish values. A world where the glitter and gold, the shiny lights on the outside are difficult to ignore. Chanukah is a celebration of our spiritual lights. While we don’t have a Bais HaMikdash, we can make our home a mikdash me’at, a sanctuary in miniature. 

I love Chanukah. I love driving around my neighborhood seeing the menorahs in the windows. Some have one, some have many. All are beautiful. They seem to illuminate the darkness outside. “Even a little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness” (Rav Schneur Zalman of Liadi)

As I stand before the menorah, gazing at its beautiful lights, and surrounded by the warm Chanukah melodies – Haneiros hallalu and Ma’oz tzur – I feel at peace, an inner joy. We are singing “our” songs, songs which lift us up and proclaim that we are indeed a Holy Nation.

I wish all my readers a lichtege Chanukah. A Chanukah full of light and joy. May the lights of Chanukah shine bright and strong, and remove any choshech, pain and difficulty. As the flames rise, may our tefillos accompany them heavenward.