Image: The last candle hung on for three minutes after the rest.
Chanukah is almost over.
When the whole chanukiahis blazing it is a wonderful sight. When several people are over it’s even more amazing – my dining room table aglow!
Once the candles are lit, we play games or talk or just hang out. Halakhicly speaking, we aren’t supposed to do any work by the light of the Chanukah candles. The reality that we may mess up and do something improper is the real reason for the shamash or helper candle. It’s nice to light with it, but its real function is to provide additional light to cover any action that isn’t strictly play.
The candles don’t last long. Chanukah candles come in all sizes, but most of them are designed to burn quickly. We light them, we play, and before we know it, they are out.
Seems to me that one of the lessons of the chanukiah is that every moment in life is a brief moment. If we don’t pay attention to the candles, they will be gone. If we don’t pay attention to the bright things in our lives, we’ll miss them altogether.
Linda and I have a tendency to sit and stare at the candles while they are lit. We chat about whatever is on our minds, but as the candles burn down, we begin to speculate on which will last longer. We watch the little candles as they melt, and as the wax runs all over the foil we put underneath, I begin to wonder uneasily if there are any holes in it. Then I bring my mind back to the here and now: Candles! They don’t last long. Don’t waste them worrying about something that can’t be fixed now.
Life is like that. Moments are here, then they pass. When my children were tiny, the most important lesson they taught me was that nothing lasts: the good things are sooner or later outgrown, and so are the not-so-good things. Colic didn’t last forever. Neither did the babbling I loved so much.
How has your Chanukah been this year? Did the candles bring you any lessons you care to share?
One of the things I enjoy doing is “reading” objects as if they are texts. The first time I did it was back in 1981, when I wrote a master’s thesis with the fancy title Anamnesis in the Baptistery of the Orthodox. The orthodoxy in this case was Christian orthodoxy in about the year 500 CE, and without getting too far down the rabbit hole, I will just say that the Emperor Neon decided to redecorate a building built for Christian baptism, and I studied (“read”) the building to see what his redecoration could tell us about baptismal theology at the time.
That’s a very long intro to explain why I suddenly have the urge to read my chanukiah. Some things I’ve noticed in my reading:
1. A chanukiah may be reminiscent of the menorah in the Temple, but it has important differences. We know from Exodus 25:31-40 that the Temple Menorah had six branches and a center post. It was made of pure gold, and it was made with oil-holders like almond blossoms and knobs. The oil-holders carried linen wicks for the flames. The branches held seven lamps. Besides this description, we have a picture of the Temple Menorah in the Arch of Titus, a work of art the Romans made to celebrate their destruction of the Temple in 70 CE.
Now, it makes sense that many chanukiot resemble the Temple Menorah, because the Menorah is at the center of the story in the Talmud, in Shabbat 21b, about the cruze of pure oil that kept the Temple Menorah burning for eight days. However, there is no requirement that our chanukiot look like the Temple Menorah. Some chanukiot look quite different.
2. The Temple Menorah burned only a certain purified olive oil. The Shulchan Aruch, a 16th century compilation of Jewish law, says that while olive oil is the best, any light that burns “cleanly”is suitable. It mentions the use of wax candles as common in the 16th c. Today there are circumstances in which electric lights are used, when safety is a consideration.
3. On a kosher menorah, all the candles are on the same level and the shamash (the candle with which we light the others) is on a slightly different level or is set apart. The reason for this (again according to the Shulchan Aruch) is that we are not allowed to have benefit from the eight candles – we must not use their light to do anything other than the commandment for which they are intended, to advertise the miracle. Therefore we have the shamash nearby, but set apart, so that we have its light to cover any benefit from the others. One thing I see here is a very practical thing: the shamash is there to make sure we perform the mitzvah correctly. But I also see in it a lesson about the Jewish community. All of us are equal before God – just as the candles are on the same level – but the shamash, the servant candle, is slightly set apart. It is not better, in fact, it does not participate in the mitzvah, but it is important because it serves. Sometimes leaders in the community may feel set apart – lonely even! – precisely because we serve. We have to have appropriate boundaries with those we serve. We have to keep confidences. All this I see in the shamash candle.
4. We place the candles in the chanukiah from right to left, in the same direction as we read Hebrew. That seems appropriate, since the chanukiah is a text from which we learn the story of Chanukah again every year. However, we light the candles from left to right, since the newest candle is the one farthest to the left. Why would that be? Again, I think about our communities: it is natural to honor those who have been in the community longest. But it is essential that we honor our newest members as well, because they need to feel welcome if they are going to become truly a part of things. Then we all stand together and shine.
5. Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disputed about the way to light candles. The dispute went on a long time – from Shabbat 21b I get the impression that there may have been a long time when some Jews lit one way and some the other. It eventually was settled that Beit Hillel was correct: we light one candle on the first night and then increase because we always must increase in holiness. I suggest that there is also another thing going on here: we are increasing joy. In winter in Israel it is often cold and wet, and Chanukah comes at the darkest time of the year. It would be depressing to see the light decrease, but it is exciting and joyful to see it increase. Yet again, the rabbis are good psychologists!
6. Not all chanukiot are perfectly kosher. Some Jews prefer a kosher chanukiah. Some prefer one that perhaps breaks one rule but enhances the holiday with its beauty.
Using something beautiful to fulfill a mitzvah is actually a mitzvah in itself. We call it hiddur mitzvah, an enhancement of the commandment. For instance, here is a chanukiah in the shape of a tree, suggesting to us the Tree of Life. Torah is often called the Etz Chaim, the Tree of Life, and ultimately the point of Chanukah is our faithful adherence to Torah, despite fashion or convenience. We remember the Maccabees and rededicate ourselves to the Tree of Life.
Another example is the Menorasaurus Rex, a chanukiah that looks like a dinosaur.
It certainly isn’t kosher, and it doesn’t look like the Temple Menorah, but I can imagine a child who loves dinosaurs being enchanted by it. If it gives pleasure, if it raises questions, that can only be good. I can imagine the dinosaur representing the awesome rage of Judah Maccabee, as he fights with the Syrian Greeks! The Book of Maccabees tells us that he and his sons were fearsome fighters, so perhaps the dinosaur is more appropriate than it first appears!
Try “reading” the text of your chanukiah. Why did you acquire that particular one? Was it a gift from someone dear to you? Did it catch your eye in a store? What about it appeals to you? How does it speak of the holiday? I look forward to your comments!
Image: My chanukiah, 2nd night of Chanukah. Photo by Rabbi Ruth Adar.
The nine-branched lamp we use at Chanukah is most correctly called a chanukiah, (pronounced khah-noo-KEE-ah.) It is a calendar of a sort, measuring out the eight days of the holiday, with an extra candle to light the others.
However, you will often hear people refer to one as a menorah (muh-NOH-rah or meh-noh-RAH). That is also correct: in Modern Hebrew, menorah means lamp. The thing on your nightstand is also a menorah, but it is unlikely to work as a calendar.