Every Shabbos is special, but this coming Shabbos will have the extra dimension and radiance of Chanukah holiness.  We have entered the 8 days of beautiful illumination, inspiration, and rededication. It is on this Yom Tov of Chanukah that we remember our brave ancestors, who after defeating the Syrian Greeks, rededicated the Temple, lit the spark of Jewish rejuvenation, and breathed new life into our collective soul.

There are two parts of our Chanukah celebration. We commemorate and celebrate the military victory.  “Masarta Giborim B’Yad Chalashim, You delivered the strong into the hands of the weak;” a small army of Kohanim (priests) defeated the mighty Greek army. We celebrate the miracle of the pach shemen, the small cruse of oil which lasted for eight days. Interestingly, the military victory receives almost no attention (aside from a mention in Shmona Esrei and Birkas Hamazon, Grace after Meals). The miracle of the oil takes center stage and informs the way we celebrate this holiday. How are we to understand the emphasis on the oil? Why does the pach shemen become the dominant point of focus during these eight sacred days?

Perhaps we can answer this question and gain new insight on Chanukah from this week’s Parsha. The Parsha begins with Yosef sharing his dreams with his brothers. These dreams, which prophetically foreshadowed Yosef’s ascent to spiritual and material greatness, infuriated the brothers. Their anger and animosity towards Yosef festered until they stripped him of his clothing, threw him into a pit, and sold him to an Ishmaelite caravan. The Torah records a peculiar piece of information:

“And they sat down to eat a meal, and they lifted their eyes and saw, and behold, a caravan of Ishmaelites was coming from Gilead, and their camels were carrying spices, balm, and lotus, going to take [it] down to Egypt (Genesis 37:25).”

Rashi comments:

Why did Scripture publicize their burden (of the Ishmaelite caravan)? To let you know the reward of the righteous, for it is customary for Arabs to carry only naphtha and tar, whose odor is foul, but for this one (Joseph) it was arranged that they should be carrying spices, so that he should not be afflicted by a foul odor.

Rav Chaim Shmulevitz (Mirrer Rosh Yeshiva, 1902-1979) asks a simple question, “Do you think Yosef cared about the smell of the caravan? He was just stripped of his clothing, dignity, and family. Would the malodorous caravan have made things worse? Conversely, do we think the aromatic spices somehow lifted his spirits? Yosef must have felt broken and forsaken; no amount of sweet-smelling spices could repair the hurt visited upon him. If this is so, why bother with the miracle?”

To answer this question, we must understand that there are two types of categories of miracles. The first category is a miracle that is necessary to remedy an immediate need. For example, when the Jewish people left Egypt and found themselves stuck between the Red Sea and the pursuing Egyptian Army, they needed an immediate salvation to escape the clutches of the Egyptian oppressor. God split the sea in order to save His nation. The miracle was necessary and needed. However, there is another category of miracles, a non-utilitarian miracle. This second type of miracle is not performed to address or remedy an immediate need but rather to send a message. More specifically, this non-utilitarian miracle is performed by God as an expression of Divine love – it is in essence a kiss from above. God knows that in times of difficulty, we often feel alone and forsaken. God knows that when we suffer, the words of the Psalmist, “Eli Eli Lama Azavtani, My God, My God why have you left me,” dangle from our lips. In those moments when we feel estranged and unloved, God “kisses” us.  He provides a “neshika,” a kiss from above. It is through this kiss that He reminds us that we are not alone.  It is through this kiss that He reminds us that He is right by our side. It is through this kiss that He reminds us that although the road ahead may be dark and difficult, we need not traverse it alone. This kiss is the miraculous kiss of companionship and love.

Are we to understand that because Yosef was surrounded by some sweet-smelling herbs, suddenly his suffering and anxiety melted away? Could the aromatic scent take away the pain, heartbreak, and humiliation he was experiencing? Of course not. But in that moment when Yosef was sitting in the caravan like a piece of chattel, being led away from his homeland, his family, and his life, he felt alone.  It is true that the sweet smell would not mend Yosef’s broken heart. But this nuanced change, this slight aberration was a sign from above that God was with him in those heartbreaking moments. The sweet scent was to remind Yosef that he was not alone. The fragrant smell conveyed the message, “My beloved child, I am here with you. I know you are hurt; I know you are broken, but I am by your side now and forever.”  The pleasing aroma was a Divine kiss (neshika) of reassurance, love, and companionship.    Sometimes, the miracles God performs for us do not remedy the current crisis or remove the pain. They simply allow us to feel the Divine companionship and embrace it.

This is the essence of the Pach Shemen (cruse of oil) miracle. God did not need to do it. It was not “necessary.” We could have easily gotten by without it. If the oil would have run out after one day, we would have managed just fine. But this is exactly what makes this miracle so special. It was a “kiss” from God to us. It was a kiss that reflected God’s pride and admiration for the sacrifices we were willing to make. It was a kiss that reminded us that even when life is dark and difficult, we are never alone. It was a kiss that gave us the strength to weather the difficulties and vicissitudes of life.

Now we can understand why this miracle takes center stage on Chanukah.  The pach shemen is much more than a jug of oil. It is the kiss that has held us through the centuries; it is the kiss that dispels the darkness; it is the kiss that gives us the strength to get back up when life has knocked us down. We all encounter challenge and adversity, and at times we wonder why Hashem allows these things to happen.  We wonder why God has forsaken us and seems not to care. Yet, when we take a step back and look at all of the “Divine kisses” we have in life, we begin to realize that although there are many things we do not understand – we are never alone. These kisses are the ultimate testament to the presence of Hashem in our lives and the ultimate reassurance that even when we struggle – we never struggle alone.  The kiss of the pach shemen is the kiss that opens our eyes and provides the illumination to see all of the other Divine “kisses” we experience throughout life.

As we bask in the glow of the Menorah, let us remember the kisses of the past, appreciate the kisses of the present, and eagerly anticipate the Divine kisses of the near future.

“Now it came to pass that since he had appointed him over his house and over all that he had, the Lord blessed the house of the Egyptian for Joseph’s sake, and the blessing of the Lord was in all that he had, in the house and in the field. So, he left all that he had in Joseph’s hand, and he knew nothing about what was with him except the bread that he ate; and Joseph had handsome features and a beautiful complexion. Now it came to pass after these events that his master’s wife lifted her eyes to Joseph, and she said, ‘Lie with me.’ But he refused, and he said to his master’s wife, ‘Behold, with me my master knows nothing about anything in the house, and all he has he has given into my hand.’” (Bereishis 7-9)

After all the trauma, Yosef found success in Egypt. He had risen through the ranks of servitude and had become the most trusted attendant in the house of Potiphar, one of the closest advisors to the Pharaoh. But Yosef was alone, no family, no nation; he was truly a stranger in a strange land. In the midst of this loneliness, a powerful woman took an interest in Yosef. The wife of Potiphar tried to seduce young Yosef, but Yosef was steadfast and resolute, refusing her advances. Yosef was then vilified and thrown into prison and his tragic saga continued.

The great Chassidic master, Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (1772-1810) writes:

“Presently, it is much easier for us to withstand our tests and temptations, for those who came before us shattered the shells (klipos) of desire. Even the simplest amongst us has the ability to withstand temptation. This is due to the spiritual heroism of earlier generations.”

Life is filled with temptation. At every turn there are opportunities for mistakes and missteps. To be successful in the journey of life we must summon the courage to overcome our illicit wants and desires, and utilize our passionate strength and ability for the accomplishment and actualization of good. Yet, at times we are faced with a burning desire to do something we know we should not. Reckless passion can cause us to go in harmful and hurtful directions. We must remember that the power to confront temptation is embedded in our spiritual DNA. When Yosef refused the advances of a married woman, he created a spiritual strength and resiliency which exists inside of each of us to this very day. It surely took all of Yosef’s courage and will to refuse this relationship. Yosef was all alone in this world and a powerful woman offered him an opportunity for connection and belonging. But he knew it was wrong and refused. This moral courage has been passed down to us. We too have the ability to stand up and say no. We have this power of Yosef and so many others throughout the generations who have exercised self-control and moral clarity. This strength is part of who we are. Rebbe Nachman explains that every time one of our ancestors “passed a test” and overcame a challenge, they bequeathed us this strength as well. We have inherited the moral strength of our ancestors and when we find the strength to overcome our negative desires and inclinations, we create new reservoirs of strength for our children and grandchildren. Every time we exercise the moral fortitude to make the right decision and avoid the negative one, we create new moral energy. When I pass a test in life, I make it a bit easier for my son and my daughter to face their demons and wage their battles.

It is our sacred duty to enjoy life, enjoy the world and partake of permitted pleasures. But when temptation appears, we must draw on the courage and moral clarity of our ancestors and exhibit the necessary strength and restraint for ourselves and our future generations.

“Now it came to pass when Joseph came to his brothers, that they stripped Joseph of his shirt, of the fine woolen coat which was upon him. And they took him and cast him into the pit; now the pit was empty there was no water in it.” (Genesis 27:23-24)

From the opening verses in this week’s Parsha we see the animosity between Yosef and his brothers. The brothers feel that Yosef is arrogant and trying to lord over them. Yosef, seemingly oblivious to the impact of his dreams on his brothers, continues to share them.  Tensions reach a boiling point and when the brothers have Yosef alone they decide it is time to eliminate him. The first thought was to kill him, but Reuven intervened and convinced the brothers to instead throw Yosef into a pit. The Torah tells that the pit was empty, there was no water. Rashi explains:

Since it says: “now the pit was empty,” do I not know that there was no water in it? For what purpose did the Torah write, “there was no water in it”? [To inform us that] there was no water in it, but there were snakes and scorpions in it.”

The Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, 1902-1994) extracts an incredible lesson from these words of Rashi. The pit represents man. We each have an emptiness within ourselves. God created us this way. He fashioned us but left an empty space for us to fill so we can partner with Him in the creation of our selves. The pit represents the unfinished part of my self. Mayim, water represents Torah. Just as water quenches, refreshes and creates growth, Torah quenches the thirsty soul, girds us with strength and creates the platform and framework for dynamic life growth. When a person is “without water,” without Torah or spirituality in his or her life, then there are “snakes and scorpions inside.” The pit or incomplete part of man must always be filling with something, it is never remains empty. If we fill it with the holy, beautiful and rejuvenating waters of Torah then we partner with God in completing our personal creation. If we fail to fill the pit with something meaningful then destructive forces, snakes and scorpions, will fill the void.  

The words of the Rebbe give us much to ponder. In life we are either constructing or deconstructing, there is no status quo or holding pattern. We each have a void, an incomplete part of our self, a pit, and we must decide what to fill it with. To do nothing, to fail to grow and progress allows the emptiness within to be filled with impurity and harmful influences. Let us find the strength to partner with God and finish the process of creation He began. God left us the empty pit and asks us to finish this last small piece of our self-creation. May we fill ourselves and our pits with the beautiful refreshing and life-sustaining waters of Torah and spiritual growth.

 

As we prepare for Shabbos and for the upcoming Yom Tov of Chanukah, allow me to share with you an idea that brings our Parsha and Yom Tov together.

The Talmud (Shabbos 21b) delves into much detail concerning the Yom Tov of Chanukah.  After discussing the types of oils and wicks which may be used and the placement of the menorah, the Gemara asks a simple question: Mai Chanukah, what is Chanukah?

“For our Rabbis taught: On the twenty-fifth of Kislev [commence] the days of Hanukkah, which are eight on which a eulogy for the dead and fasting are forbidden. For when the Greeks entered the Temple, they defiled all the oils therein, and when the Hasmonean dynasty prevailed against and defeated them, they made search and found only one cruse of oil which lay with the seal of the High Priest, but which contained sufficient for one day’s lighting only; yet a miracle was wrought therein and they lit [the lamp] therewith for eight   days. The following year these [days] were appointed a Festival with [the recital of] Hallel and thanksgiving.”

There seems to be a glaring omission. When the Talmud describes the Yom Tov celebration of Chanukah it tells us about  Hallel (the  recitation  of  Hallel)  and  Hodaah (thanksgiving,  Al HaNissim prayer)  but  makes  no  mention  of  kindling  the  Menorah?  What is Chanukah without the lights? Aren’t the Chanukah candles the paradigmatic representation of Divine providence and intervention?  Why  does  the  Talmud omit  any  mention of  the  performance  of  this  mitzvah?

To fully answer this question, we must look at the Parsha. The Torah states, “Jacob dwelt in the land of his father’s sojournings, in the land of Canaan” (Genesis 37:1).  Yaakov had one simple desire, “Bikeysh Yaakov ley’sehv b’shaalva, Yaakov wanted to dwell in peace and tranquility” (Rashi 37:2). After running from Esav, contending with Lavan and suffering tragedy in Shechem, all Yaakov wanted was to settle in the land of his fathers, serve God and watch his family grow. “God says to the righteous, is it not enough that you will have peace in the World to Come, you also want peace in this world as well?” (Rashi 37:2) We then go on to read of the disturbing dynamic between Yosef and his brothers. Jealousy and animosity ultimately turn the brothers against Yosef, who is sold into slavery, plunging Yaakov into two decades of mourning for the son he thought had been killed. Was it too much for Yaakov to ask for peace in this world and the next? Why does it have to be an either or? What was wrong with Yaakov’s desire for tranquility and quiet after what had been a tumultuous couple of decades?

Perhaps to gain insight into Rashi’s comment we must look at an episode at the end of the Parsha. Yosef found himself incarcerated together with the Pharaoh’s baker and butler. One morning the men awoke disturbed by dreams they had the night  before.  Yosef offered to  listen and attempt to interpret their  dreams.

“So the chief cupbearer related his dream to Joseph, and he said to him, ’In my dream, behold, a vine is before me. And on the vine,

are three tendrils and it seemed to be blossoming, and its buds came out; [then] its clusters ripened into grapes. And Pharaoh’s cup was in my hand, and I took the grapes and squeezed them into Pharaoh’s cup, and I placed the cup on Pharaoh’s palm’” (Genesis 40:9- 11).

Yosef explained that in three days, the butler would be restored to his former position dutifully serving Pharaoh.

“Now the chief baker saw that he had interpreted well. So, he said to Joseph, ’Me too! In my dream, behold, there were three wicker baskets on my head. And in the topmost basket were all kinds of Pharaoh’s food, the work of a baker, and the birds were eating them from  the  basket  atop  my  head’”  (Genesis  40:9-11).

Yosef explained that in three days the baker would be executed and the birds would pick away at his flesh.

What did Yosef see in these dreams that led him to  offer these differing interpretations?  Rav Elchanan Wasserman (1874-1941) explains that Yosef saw a fundamental difference between the two dreams. The butler’s dream was filled with dynamic activity, the baker’s was not. The butler saw himself serving and doing, the baker saw himself in a passive position. Where there is movement, there is life. Where there is passivity there is death.

Perhaps,  this  insight  sheds  light  on  Yaakov’s  request.  What  is  the  meaning  of  “Bikeysh Yaakov ley’sehv b’shaalva, Yaakov   wanted to dwell in peace and tranquility”? Yaakov felt he had done what was asked of him. Unlike his father and grandfather,   all his offspring would perpetuate the code of Abrahamitic values. He had established a spiritually complete family.   His beloved Rachel was gone, and he had had his share of struggles and life battles, now Yaakov wanted to rest. But God says, “this world is not for resting, this world is not for tranquility.   Life is only meaningful if it is filled with perpetual growth and it is the struggle which serves as the catalyst for this growth.   It is our challenges that force us to be more and do more.   It is the hurdles of life that allow us to find our inner strength and resolve.   It is only through challenge and struggle that we fully elf-actualize.   After 120, when we reach Olam HaBa, the World to Come; there we will experience true peace, tranquility and rest from our struggles.”

This is the message of Chanukah as well. The Maharal of Prague (Ner Mitzvah Chapter 2) explains that the main miracle of Chanukah  was  the  military  victory.  Masarta Gibroim B’Yad Chalashim, You  placed  the  strong  in  the  hands  of  the  weak.  This  is  the true essence of Chanukah. In fact, the entire purpose of the miracle of the pach shemen (the cruse of oil that burned for 8 days) was to highlight the supernatural nature of the military victory. When people saw the hand of God in the continuous burning oil, they realized the hand of God in their victory over the Greeks. The real miracle of Chanukah was that we were  willing to fight, we were willing to revolt against the status quo, we were willing to struggle. It would have been much easier for our  ancestors  to  lay  down  their  weapons,  join  the  Greeks  and  find  life  “tranquility.”  But  the  Chashmonaim understood  that when you stop struggling, you die. Our holy grandparents understood that a life of tranquility is not a life of meaning.  They  found the courage to rise up and keep moving.

The Gemara makes no mention of the kindling of the Menorah in our observance of Chanukah because it is not the cornerstone of our holiday. The light of the Menorah is but a tool to illuminate the true message of this Yom Tov. There is only success in struggle.  Salvation only comes through battle.  Tranquility  doesn’t engender growth or any form for upward mobility.  The thrust of this Yom Tov is Hallel and Hodaah, praise and thanksgiving. Praise for God who guides our destiny and delivers us from all harm and thanksgiving for our ancestors who had the courage to continue the struggle.

Yosef foresaw the salvation of the butler in dynamic activity, the Maccabim saw salvation only through dynamic activity and we must find our personal salvation through dynamic activity and constant growth.

We look forward to the weekend, we plan our vacations and we aspire to retire. But, our job is to work, our mission is to struggle, our mandate is to grow.   We must always look for ways to expand our soul and become more. We must learn to embrace the hard work of life and relish the opportunities to shape our circumstances. Although we may yearn for tranquility, deep down we know that true fulfillment and happiness can only be found through perpetual  growth. We must understand that the challenges of life are but opportunities for growth, development and self-actualization. As we look into the luminescent glow of the Chanukah candles may they inspire us to embrace the struggle and pray for victory.