As we approach the radiance of the Yom Tov of Chanukah, it is appropriate to focus a bit on the Chashmonaim. They are our heroes, the ones who risked and lost their lives for us all. Yet, every year we also reflect upon the fact that they seemed to make an egregious error. They were Kohanim, children of shevet Levi, but they established a monarchy against the express edict of Yaakov Avinu (Bereishis 49:10) that “The scepter shall not depart from Yehudah.” Indeed, the Ramban there concludes that “this was the punishment [of the Chashmonaim] who ruled during the second Bais Hamikdosh, who were chassidei elyon (lofty and righteous) people, and if not for them the Torah and mitzvos could have been forgotten in Klal Yisroel. Nevertheless, they were punished severely.” The Ramban goes on to detail their harsh chastisement.
However, the Rambam (Hilchos Chanukah 3:1) seems to record glowingly, without a hint of criticism, that “the children of the Chashmonaim, the Kohanim Gedolim, triumphed [over the Greeks], killing them, appointed a king from amongst the Kohanim, and monarchy was restored to Klal Yisroel for over two hundred years until the destruction of the second Bais Hamikdosh.” The general assumption is that these words are clearly in disagreement with the Ramban’s condemnation, leaving us with a painful conundrum about how to relate to these chassidim, even according to the Ramban’s assessment.
One approach to this enigma has been suggested by Rav Moshe Sternbuch (Teshuvos Vehanhagos, Chanukah, page 524, from Moadim Uzemanim 6:243). He makes a series of assertions to both defend the Chashmonaim and attempt to reconcile the opinions of the Ramban and the Rambam. First of all, in order to appoint a king, there is a requirement to consult with a novi (Rambam, Hilchos Melachim 1:3). At the time of Chanukah, the last of the prophets, Chaggai, Zechariah and Malachi, had already passed away. Furthermore, although the righteous Chashmonaim wished to discover a proper candidate for royalty from shevet Yehudah, there was none to be found. “They did not,
G-d forbid, want to permanently deprive shevet Yehudah of their legitimate legacy, but were only temporarily planning to create a government that would serve until an appropriate member of shevet Yehudah would be found.”
Rav Sternbuch explains that even the Ramban was not reproaching the Chashmonaim for this act, only for allowing this situation to languish and become the norm. As he concludes, when, G-d willing, Moshiach comes, we will have Eliyohu Hanovi as the requisite prophet who will appoint the king from shevet Yehudah, as decreed by Yaakov Avinu.
Interestingly, Rav Sternbuch turns our attention to the text of our daily bentching after meals. There, the Gemara (Brachos 49b) ordains that if we delete the hope and prayer for the Royal House of Dovid Hamelech, we have not fulfilled our obligation. In other words, even according to the Rambam, our dreams and aspirations for the future are woefully incomplete without a king from the house of Dovid Hamelech and shevet Yehudah. The Chashmonaim were just trying to buy time, but the Ramban is of the opinion that they waited too long and became too comfortable with Kohanim multitasking, where Yaakov Avinu demanded specialization. In the end, according to everyone, the Chashmonaim were certainly heroes, albeit with a well-meaning flaw.
Rav Yonasan David, rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Pachad Yitzchok in Yerushalayim (Sefer Vezos Chanukah 3:13, page 34) goes in a similar direction, but with a different twist. He writes that “Klal Yisroel was under the dominion of Babylonia, Persia and Greece for three succeeding exiles. The triumph of Chanukah was not only a respite from that of the Greeks, but was redemption from golus itself, which had been imposed upon us since the first destruction. Even golus Edom added nothing new to our experience of exile, for it was only a replay of the previous three exiles (Maharal, Ner Mitzvah). The victory of Chanukah was therefore a harbinger and forerunner for the coming of Moshiach and the restoration of monarchy to Klal Yisrael… Although Chanukah did not usher in the third Bais Hamikdosh, it did open a window so that we could savor a taste of what will be coming, im yirtzeh Hashem. Through the miracle of the menorah, a miracle of light and the triumph of the Torah over Greek culture, we are able to peer somewhat into the glorious future ahead.”
Now that we have the guidance of Rav Moshe Sternbuch and Rav Yonasan David, we can look ahead with new eyes at the coming incandescence of Chanukah. Not only did our miraculous triumph over Yovon come about through “Your holy Kohanim,” but the miracle of the menorah came about through the vial of oil that had been stamped by the Kohein Gadol (Shabbos 21b). As the Maharal (Ner Mitzvah, Siddur, page 96) teaches us, the miracle of the neiros happened just to reveal to us that the so-called military victory was equally the Hand of Hashem. Perhaps, it was necessary for this particular yeshuah and neis to happen through Kohanim to teach us this very lesson. Even when we utilize our requirements of hishtadlus — we must make a human effort to achieve our goals, be it to win a war, obtain healing or to earn a parnassah — we must keep in mind that it is always Hashem Who is making it happen. The best human instrument for this process is always a Kohein.
My rebbi, Rav Yitzchok Hutner (Pachad Yitzchok, Chanukah, Maamar 11) states this clearly when he points out that in Haneiros Hallalu, which we recite when lighting the menorah, we mention the holy Kohanim, even as we recall that it was the stamp of the Kohein Gadol who “saved the day” when we needed oil for the first lighting after the Chanukah victory. Even if the Chashmonaim extended their monarchy too long toward the end of their reign, it seems manifest that the Kohanim were the most appropriate shlichim to bring about the Chanukah lichtigkeit that we celebrate today.
In case we think that all of this is merely historical, let us remember that the gedolei Yisroel are also our Kohanim Gedolim today. If I may plagiarize from myself for a moment, in my ArtScroll book on Chanukah (Days of Gratitude, Days of Triumph), there is a memorable story about Rav Chaim Stein, rosh yeshivas of Yeshivas Telshe. “It was Erev Chanukah, 1941. Rav Chaim Stein, Rabbi Mayer Zelig Mann and approximately sixteen Telzer bochurim were in a freight train traveling through the flatlands of the Siberian Lowlands. They were all fleeing for their lives and didn’t have provisions to light the Chanukah candles for the full eight days. For the first night, they used a very small part of a candle they had saved from the Shemini Atzeres lecht. They had the foresight to take this along with them, knowing that Chanukah was looming ahead, but not knowing where they would be due to the war.
“On the second night, however, they didn’t have what to light with. The resourceful bochurim were not deterred from performing a mitzvah even under difficult circumstances. Every time the train made an unexpected stop, the bochurim jumped out, attempting to collect some grease that would drip from the wheels. They caught this precious source of oil in a boot and pulled threads from their clothing for wicks. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get the grease to burn, as it was very heavy. Rav Chaim and Rav Meir Zelig had never missed lighting Chanukah candles and they lamented that this would be the first time that they would not be able to perform the mitzvah. They settled down to learn hilchos Chanukah, which they figured was second best to lighting.
“All of a sudden, in the frozen wasteland, their train was diverted to a side track because a military train had to pass. The train stopped and, shockingly, there was a knock at the door of their car. A man dressed like a Cossack entered, holding two long candles. He asked if anyone wanted to buy them. Candles were an unheard-of commodity during the World War, especially in Siberia. The bochurim happily bartered the candles for tobacco. They wanted to thank the “Cossack” for this opportunity, but he had completely disappeared, without even leaving footprints in the freshly fallen snow. One could see the horizon, since the land was very flat, but he could not be spotted anywhere. Reb Meir Zelig cut the candles into eight sections. Their simcha was boundless. They were able to light candles for the entire eight days. Later, many thought that Rav Chaim and the bochurim had merited seeing and benefitting from Eliyohu Hanovi.
“Years later, when the rosh yeshiva was asked by Rav Yitzchok Erlanger if the story was true, he admitted that indeed it was. However, he also added that ‘you should know that one who tries tremendously to fulfill a mitzvah is helped from Heaven to accomplish his goal.’ Rav Chaim, with whom I had the privilege to be very close and who was the sandek for one of my sons, was a member of our generation, but lived the life of the Chashmonaim and the miracle of Chanukah.”
A footnote to this story is that when I first heard and used to tell the story, I was missing a few of these details. Then a member of the Stein family kindly shared with me the “rest of the story” from Rav Chaim’s diary, which had been discovered after his petirah. One of the lost important additions was that Rav Chaim’s crucial take-away was not about mofsim or his own zechusim, but the lesson of always doing our hishtadlus, no matter how bleak the outcome seemed to be.
As a new lesson for this Chanukah of 5786, I would suggest that Rav Chaim’s maskanah was actually that of the Chashmonaim as well. There are numerous opinions as to what exactly they did with the small vial of oil that they discovered, but what is certain is that they did their hishtadlus by searching, by lighting and by trusting Hashem. It was the great ones, whether Kohanim or roshei yeshiva, who taught us that if we do our part, Hashem will do His.
