Chanukah commemorates an extraordinary miracle: when the Chashmona’im rededicated the Beit HaMikdash after their military victory, a small flask of oil – enough to light the menorah for only one night – miraculously burned for eight. Yet this is hardly the greatest miracle ever to occur to the Jewish people. There is no holiday marking the stopping of the Jordan River when the Jews crossed into Eretz Cana’an, no festival for the fire that descended from heaven for Eliyahu on Har HaCarmel, no celebration of the sun standing still for Yehoshua in Giv’on – and the list goes on. Why, then, does this miracle of oil lasting eight nights, wondrous though it was, merit an eight-day festival that the Jewish people are commanded to observe forever?
Moreover, miracles were commonplace in the First Beit HaMikdash, as the Gemara describes: there was never a fly in the slaughtering area; the smoke from the altar rose straight upward, unaffected by the wind; and even when the courtyard was packed with worshippers, there was always room for everyone to bow down at the right moment (Yoma 21a). So why do we specifically celebrate this miracle – the endurance of a small flask of oil?
Perhaps the answer lies in the unique symbolism of the menorah in the Beit HaMikdash and the particular moment in history when this miracle occurred. The Gemara teaches that the Second Beit HaMikdash was inferior to the First in five ways: there was no Aron Kodesh, no heavenly fire, no Shechinah, no Ruach HaKodesh, and no Urim v’Tumim (Yoma 21b). How do we know that the Shechinah – Hashem’s Holy Presence – was missing? The Gemara in Shabbat explains that its presence was revealed through the western lamp of the menorah, which contained the same amount of oil as the other lamps but miraculously burned longer than all the rest. For the forty years that Shimon HaTzaddik served as Kohen Gadol during the Second Temple period, this daily mini-miracle of the menorah – a quiet sign that G-d was present in the avodah of the Beit HaMikdash – returned for a time (Yoma 39a). After his passing, however, it appeared only sporadically.
The Chashmona’im fought valiantly to rededicate the Second Beit HaMikdash, but it remained a diminished Mikdash, lacking the visible signs of Hashem’s favor that had once filled it with awe. When Hashem not only restored a miracle from the First Beit HaMikdash but magnified it eightfold, imagine the joy and gratitude that swept through the Jewish people! This was not merely a supernatural event – it was a divine message. Hashem was affirming their efforts, declaring His partnership and presence once again in the Beit HaMikdash. At a time when even the daily service seemed diminished, when the Jewish people’s brave warriors might have questioned whether their struggle was worthwhile, Hashem sent a miracle that spoke directly to their hearts – a miracle symbolizing His renewed closeness and care.
Remarkably, we celebrate this miracle even though the other miracles never returned and the Beit HaMikdash itself retained but a shadow of its former glory. By establishing an eight-day festival in honor of this one miracle, Chazal teach us something profound: celebration is warranted even when redemption is incomplete. Just as the Jews in the days of Ezra and Nechemiah rejoiced over the rebuilding of the Second Beit HaMikdash, though it was less magnificent than the first, so too do we rejoice on Chanukah – not because everything was restored, but because something sacred returned.
In our own time, we have witnessed moments of light amid deep darkness. We celebrated the miraculous return of twenty of our precious brothers from Hamas captivity after two years of unimaginable suffering, even as we continue to mourn all those we have lost, and pray for the remaining fallen hostages to reach kever Yisrael. Like our ancestors, we choose to rejoice in the signs of Hashem’s mercy along the way, showing us that He loves and believes in us, even as we continue to pray for the ultimate redemption – when His Shechinah will once again dwell in Jerusalem, and His presence will fill the world with light.
Rabbanit Sally Mayer is Rosh Midrasha at Midreshet Lindenbaum.