If you know a bit of the history of Chanukah, there is something that should be niggling at your brain and bothering you. What is all this hallel v’hodaah really about? Yes, we know that the main theme of Chanukah is hallel v’hodaah, praise and thanks to Hashem for the phenomenal nissim that He performed for us then: the neis of the pach shemen, the oil that remained lit for eight days, and the neis of the milchamah when a tiny group of Chashmonaim were able to conquer the vaunted Greek army. Wonderful.
But anyone who knows history knows that the Chashmonaim’s victory over the Yevonim was by no means an exit from golus to geulah. The Yidden were still very much under foreign rule, and indeed, the last couple of hundred years of Bayis Sheini were far from a walk in the park. The Romans took over, and even though the Yidden still lived in Eretz Yisroel, the churban was slowly on the way. It wasn’t as if the Misyavnim and the other terrible non-Jewish influences stopped with the neis of Chanukah. They didn’t.
Why, then, is there such an emphasis on hallel v’hodaah? We really weren’t even out of the woods. Even more than that, that entire period of time—including Chanukah, when the tremendous neis happened, empowering the Yidden to return to the Bais Hamikdosh—was still, after all, a prelude to the churban.
The question, therefore, is: Why is this Yom Tov so permeated with the inyan of hallel v’hodaah?
Now, if you would tell me, for example, that the Yom Tov of Pesach is one of hallel v’hodaah, I would get it. After all, on Pesach, we experienced a real hatzolah from golus. We left Mitzrayim and continued on to Mattan Torah, where we became the Torah nation.
But Chanukah? Chanukah was just a blip of light—a beautiful light, but still just a blip of light in the terrible golus that led to the churban. Why the tremendous simcha?
Who Cares?
On Sunday, I was speaking to a friend about a well-known Rashi in this week’s parsha that says that Yosef was sold to a group of Yishmoelim who were going down to Mitzrayim with donkey-loads full of nice-smelling spices. Rashi explains that this shows us the s’char of a tzaddik like Yosef. Arabs would generally transport foul-smelling items like fuel, but Hashem specifically sent a rare caravan bearing sweet-smelling spices, special for Yosef.
The well-known question on this is: Who cares? Think about it. Yosef—who had been living in a veritable Gan Eden, learning every day with his father, who had a special love for him as the ben zekunim—is suddenly ripped away from the loving embrace of Yaakov. Now he is being sent to serve as a slave in the most disgusting land. Today, we have no real conception of what it means to be a slave to immoral and cruel overseers, but rest assured, it is sometimes a fate worse than death itself. So, did it really make a difference that Yosef had some nice-smelling spices on his miserable ride away from freedom, away from the kedusha of Yaakov’s house, into the miserable existence of eternal servitude?
“Ah Kush Fun Tatten…”
My friend told me that when he learned at Yeshivas Mir Yerushalayim in the 1970s, Rav Chaim Shmulevitz, during one of his famous shmuessen, asked this very question. Rav Chaim became very emotional, and my friend even noticed tears coming out of his eyes as he exclaimed, in his inimitable way, in a powerful, tear-choked voice: “Ah kush fun Tatten in der finster macht az der finsternish zol veren in gantzen lichtig. A kiss from one’s father in the dark illuminates the darkness.”
Chanukah, too, was ah kush fun Tatten in der finster, a kiss from Hashem during a very dark period. That kiss showed Yosef that Hashem was with him, holding his hand even during such an impossibly difficult time, and that is what gave him the chizuk to carry on.
If there is any message of Chanukah that we need to take home with us and hold onto tightly, it is the fact that even though Bayis Sheini was not like Bayis Rishon, and even though things were going downhill and it was a time of choshech, still, Hashem gave us small bits of light. It is our job to see, appreciate, and thank Hashem even for the bit of goodness that shone during a difficult period. Yes, we have to thank Hashem for that bit of ohr that shines even when there is choshech. Why? Because that light illuminates the darkness and tells us that Hashem is saying, “My dear, dear son/daughter, I am with you! I am holding your hand even now in this difficult period that you are experiencing!”
That is also why the main focus of Chanukah is thanking Hashem for the neis of the menorah—the light—not the neis of winning the war, so that we learn this lesson. The lesson is that we must appreciate and thank Hashem for every piece of ohr, for every small good or positive thing, even when there is a lot of choshech around us.
A Mindset Switch
For many of us, this requires a change of mindset. Say a person is sick in the hospital, suffering through a very difficult time, and then the doctors find a certain medicine that can make things a bit better, or he gets a good piece of news about something unrelated to his condition. For many of us, the fact that we are going through such a terrible ordeal makes us not really appreciate the good, right? After all, the good things aren’t solving the main problem, right?
Wrong. Those little good things are little light points that Hashem gives us to shine even within the dark, to show us that He is with us, that He is together with us, even in the tzarah. Therefore, we must rejoice, thank Him, and praise Him even for those small shafts of light, even in the darkness. Those shafts of light show us that He is here, that He is the Kol Yachol, and that He can do anything. It is as if He is, as it were, giving us a kiss in the dark that makes everything lichtig.
If there is anything we can learn from Chanukah, it is that we must accustom ourselves to thanking Hashem even for the small things, the small hatzalos. No, the shidduch has not yet come, I am not yet a kallah or a chosson, but the fact that the shadchan called with a suggestion that seemed to have some merit, even if it didn’t work out, shows me that Hashem is right here with me, in the darkness, showing that He remembers me. He loves me!
Yes, I may be having tremendous difficulty with my child who keeps me up at night, but last night I slept like a log. Thank You, Hashem, for showing me that You are with me in the small things, and thus I know that You are with me always.
To be sure, this is not a “cup half empty/half full” thing. I am not telling you just to be positive and look at the cup as half full. This is much more, and much deeper. The message is to look at everything—every positive thing, even a tiny little harchavah—with eyes of emunah.
Sometimes, even harder than the actual difficulty is the feeling that I have been abandoned. Even harder than the actual difficulty is, at times, the feeling that I am alone, that no one is watching over me, no one is protecting me, and no one cares enough. We wonder: Has Hashem forsaken me? Those feelings make it so difficult to daven when a person is experiencing an ongoing difficulty.
Shining the Light of “You Are Not Alone!”
When we look at every little, small, or even tiny shaft of light, even though that light certainly cannot nullify the pain, it still shows us and tells us that Hashem has not forsaken us. He just gave me a kiss. He is showing that I am still connected to Him, and He is still connected to me.
Let us look at the mitzvah of bikkur cholim. Why is bikkur cholim such a great mitzvah? When you leave, the choleh is still sick. You haven’t healed his illness or given him an eitzah about how to get better. You just visited him, shmoozed with him, and showed him you care.
A sick person often feels alone, detached, and forsaken. When someone comes to visit him, talk to him, and give him chizuk, that itself gives him the koach to fight the illness. Suddenly, it hits the choleh: “I am not alone! Someone cares about me!”
If there is any lesson to learn from Chanukah and the primary mitzvah of hallel v’hodaah, it is that we must give thanks to Hashem even when things are not back to normal, even when things are still difficult, because Hashem is always there at our side, and He shows us this by illuminating the darkness with small shafts of light.
“Ah kush fun Tatten in der finster macht az der finsternish zol veren in gantzen lichtig!”
