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    SEEING WITH 20/20 VISION – THE ESSENCE OF CHANUKAH

    A husband and wife
    are getting ready to
    go to sleep. The wife
    is ready to close her
    eyes and her husband
    stands staring at

    himself in the full-
    length mirror. “What’s the matter with

    you?” she says. Come to sleep already.”
    He turns to her and says, “Look at this,
    I am so depressed. All I see is a receding
    hairline, a growing gut, and wrinkles
    under my eyes and what hair I have left
    is grey. Tell me something positive,
    something uplifting so I can go to
    sleep.” She thinks for a moment and
    says, “Well the good news is your vision
    is still 20/20.”
    There is a very high association
    between Chanukah and the sense of
    sight. “HaNeiros halalu kodesh heim,
    v’ein lanu reshus l’hishtameish bahem
    elah lirosam bilvad.” As we will begin
    to sing next week on each night of
    Chanukahh, the candles are sacred, we
    don’t have permission to benefit from
    their light but their purpose is simply to
    be looked at. Moreover, we have a
    unique halacha on Chanukah. The
    Talmud tells us and the Shulchan Aruch
    records – ha’roeh mevareich, one who
    can’t light for himself or herself and
    sees the candles of someone else –
    nevertheless makes the second beracha,
    she’asah nissim la’avosainu. When I
    see someone put on tefillin, take a lulav,
    or blow shofar, I don’t make a beracha.
    Only on Chanukah do I make a beracha
    on seeing someone else do the mitzvah.
    The Kedushas Levi, Rav Levi Yitzchak
    of Berdichev, tells us that Chanukah is
    the holiday of seeing. The different
    moadim correspond with our different
    senses. On Purim our hearing is
    heightened as we listen to the megilla.
    On Pesach our sense of taste is
    sharpened when we eat matzah and
    marror and on Chanukah, he says, we
    evaluate our sense of sight, how well do
    we see.
    What kind of seeing are we honing? It
    is not our physical sense of sight.
    Indeed, in a sort of paradoxical way, our
    eyes are a liability. You see, we often
    feel that “seeing is believing.” If I can
    perceive and observe it, it is true. If I
    can’t, it is not real. Following this rule,
    we have dismissed and disregarded
    many of the most precious truths and
    realities in our lives. There are ideas,
    feelings, thoughts and dreams that are

    authentic and genuine, despite the fact
    that they can’t be seen or observed.
    Our Rabbis describe the Greek empire
    and Hellenist influence as choshech,
    darkness. In expounding on the opening
    verses of the creation story, the Midrash
    Rabbah says choshech al p’nei sehom
    – zu galus yavan, darkness on the
    vastness, that is the exile of Greece.
    Moreover, our Rabbis taught that
    darkening our eyes was the goal of our
    Greek oppressors – shehechshichu
    einehem shel yisroel.
    What is the difference between a room
    that is filled with darkness or with light?
    Is there any actual change to the room
    itself? Whether the light is on or off in
    the room, the furniture remains the
    same, the layout of the room, the
    placement of the door and the height of
    the ceiling are a constant. What, then, is
    the difference whether the light in my
    room is on or off? The answer is just my
    perception. The only difference is my
    ability to identify and see the reality, the
    truth and that which was right before
    me all along. Chanukah is about seeing
    things, people, ideas, and miracles that
    are really right in front of me, even
    though I may not be able to visibly see
    them.
    George Orwell once wrote: “To see
    what is in front of one’s nose needs a
    constant struggle.” One can live with
    his eyes open, perfect vision, and the
    light on and still be cloaked in darkness.
    On the other hand it can be pitch black
    all around and yet a person can see
    absolutely clearly. The Chashmonaim
    didn’t see their few numbers, weak
    army, and impossible task. They saw
    the mighty hand of Hashem, they saw
    the obligation to fight, and they saw
    Divine protection that would accompany
    them.
    Chanukah is about lighting the candles
    and using them to harness our sight, not
    opthalmologically speaking, but our
    deep vision of what is true, precious,
    and dear. When we look at our spouses
    and children, do we see the amazing
    blessing of their presence in our lives or
    do we hear lots of noise, see rooms that
    need to be cleaned up, and a messy
    house? When we face a challenge do we
    see no way out or an opportunity to
    further lean on our Creator? There are
    truths all around us; it is up to us to
    decide what to look at and how to see.
    In her “Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust,”

    Professor Yaffa Eliach shared the
    incredible story of Chanukah in
    Bergen Belsen:
    It was time to kindle the Chanukah
    lights. A jug of oil was not to be
    found, no candle was in sight, and a
    Chanukia belonged to the distant
    past. Instead, a wooden clog, the shoe
    of one of the inmates, became a
    Chanukia, strings pulled from a
    concentration camp uniform, a wick,
    and the black camp shoe polish, pure
    oil.
    Not far from the heaps of bodies, the
    living skeletons assembled to participate
    in the kindling of the Chanukah lights.
    The Rabbi of Bluzhov lit the first light
    and chanted the first two blessings in his
    pleasant voice, and the festive melody
    was filled with sorrow and pain. When
    he was about to recite the third blessing,
    he stopped, turned his head, and looked
    around as if he were searching for
    something.
    But immediately, he turned his face
    back to the quivering small lights and in
    a strong, reassuring, comforting voice,
    chanted the third blessing: “Blessed are
    Thou, O Lord, our G-d, King of the
    Universe, who has kept us alive, and
    has preserved us, and enabled us to
    reach this season.”
    Among the people present at the
    kindling of the light was a Mr.
    Zamietchkowski, one of the leaders of
    the Warsaw Bund. He was a clever,
    sincere person with a passion for
    discussing matters of religion, faith and
    truth. As soon as the Rabbi of Bluzhov
    had finished the ceremony of kindling
    the lights, Zamiechkowski elbowed his
    way to the Rabbi and said, “Spira, you
    are a clever and honest person. I can
    understand your need to light Chanukah
    candles in these wretched times. I can
    even understand the historical note of
    the second blessing, “Who wrought
    miracles for our Fathers in days of old,
    at this season.” But the fact that you
    recited the third blessing is beyond me.
    How could you thank G-d and say
    “Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our G-d,
    King of the Universe, who has kept us
    alive, and hast preserved us, and enabled
    us to reach this season”? How could
    you say it when hundreds of dead
    Jewish bodies are literally lying within
    the shadows of the Chanukah lights,
    when thousands of living Jewish
    skeletons are walking around in camp,
    and millions more are being massacred?

    For this you are thankful to G-d? For
    this you praise the Lord? This you call
    “keeping us alive?”
    “Zamietchkowski, you are a hundred
    percent right,” answered the Rabbi.
    “When I reached the third blessing, I
    also hesitated and asked myself, what
    should I do with this blessing? I turned
    my head in order to ask the Rabbi of
    Zaner and other distinguished Rabbis
    who were standing near me if indeed I
    might recite the blessing. But just as I
    was turning my head, I noticed that
    behind me a throng was standing, a
    large crowd of living Jews, their faces
    expressing faith, devotion, and
    deliberation as they were listening to
    the rite of the kindling of the Chanukah
    lights.
    I said to myself, if G-d has such a
    nation that at times like these, when
    during the lighting of the Chanukah
    lights they see in front of them the heaps
    of bodies of their beloved fathers,
    brothers, and sons, and death is looking
    from every corner, if despite all that,
    they stand in throngs and with devotion
    listening to the Chanukah blessing
    “Who performed miracles for our
    Fathers in days of old, at this season”;
    indeed I was blessed to see such a
    people with so much faith and fervor,
    then I am under a special obligation to
    recite the third blessing.”
    You see, that night in Bergen Belson,
    Mr. Zamietchkowski only saw what lay
    before him, dead bodies and terrible
    suffering. The Rebbe also looked, but
    he saw another layer of truth that was
    equally accurate – that there was a
    gathering of people who maintained
    incredible faith despite the most horrific
    circumstances.
    As we celebrate Chanukah this week,
    let us remember that there are truths all
    around us not visible to the naked eye.
    Let us use the light of the Chanukah
    candles to inspire us to see the truth
    with clarity and 20/20 vision.