This Year, Chanukah Feels Different
BY RABBI ALAN HABER
This year, as we kindle the lights of Chanukah, their glow feels different. The flames rise against a backdrop of grief and resolve, of uncertainty and faith. Across the Jewish world, people are asking what “rededication” means in a time when so much still feels broken.
This is not a new question. It lies at the very heart of the Maccabim’s victories that we celebrate on Chanukah. Long before them, however, other generations also wrestled with this question. To understand it, we must reach back in time to the inaugural days of the first Beit HaMikdash.
King Shlomo’s two houses
The Tanach tells us (Melachim I 7:1–12) that King Shlomo built two separate “houses”: Beit Hashem (“G-d’s house” – the biblical term for the Beit HaMikdash) and Beit HaMelech – his own house, the royal palace. It is noteworthy that Shlomo even felt the need to build a royal palace; a beautiful palace had already been constructed for his father David only a few decades earlier (Shmuel II 5:11).
But Shlomo’s design – a new royal palace adjacent to the Temple – was not merely functional; it expressed an ideal. The holiness of Beit Hashem was meant to infuse moral purpose into Beit HaMelech, while the strength of the king’s house was meant to protect and sustain the Temple. The political and spiritual leadership of the Jewish nation must work in harmony; Am Yisrael can thrive only when holiness and sovereignty stand together.
A haftarah for Chanukah
Centuries later, when the prophet Zechariah and his generation returned from Babylonian exile, they faced the challenge of rebuilding both the Beit HaMikdash and the national political framework that gave it life.
The haftarah for Shabbat Chanukah (Zechariah 3:1–4:7) brings their struggle vividly to life. The prophet sees Yehoshua, the High Priest, standing before an angel, “clothed in filthy garments” (3:3). The image is unsettling: the people had returned to their land and begun rebuilding the Beit HaMikdash, yet something remained tainted, unresolved.
Then the angel commands, “Remove the filthy garments from him… See, I have removed your iniquity from you, and I will clothe you in rich garments” (3:4). It is a vision of purification and renewal – an assurance that forgiveness and rebuilding are still possible.
The vision ends with a dual charge. On the one hand, “Hear now, Yehoshua the Kohen Gadol… behold, I will bring My servant tzemach (‘plant’)” – an apparent messianic reference (see Yishayahu 11:1; Yirmiyahu 23:5; 33:16) directed at Zerubavel, the political leader at the time (see Zechariah 4:8–14). The message is clear: Beit Hashem can only be rebuilt alongside Beit HaMelech.
Yet at the same time, Zechariah also says, “This is the word of the L-rd to Zerubavel: Not by strength nor by power [will you reign], but by My spirit, said the L-rd of Hosts.” This companion message is equally clear: Beit HaMelech can only succeed under the guidance of Beit Hashem.
From Zechariah to the Maccabim
The same dynamic reappears centuries later in the story of Chanukah. The Maccabim fought not only to cleanse Beit Hashem – the defiled Beit HaMikdash – but even more so to reassert Jewish political sovereignty and self-determination. Undoubtedly, the persecutions introduced by King Antiochus IV, which undermined centuries of religious freedom, taught the Jews that only through political and military power, symbolized by Beit HaMelech, could they guarantee their spiritual and religious independence.
Yet tragically, history showed that the balance is easily lost. The Hasmonean dynasty ultimately lost its way, succumbing to corruption and internal division. Holiness without structure could not protect itself, and unchecked power without holiness eroded from within.
The enduring message
Today, as we face our own tests of resilience – in Israel and throughout the Jewish world – Zechariah’s vision speaks with renewed clarity. Once again, we are called to strengthen both “houses”: to preserve our sovereignty with wisdom and courage, and to root it in the spiritual and ethical ideals that define us as a people.
It is easy, especially in times of danger, to focus solely on Beit HaMelech – defense, unity, and survival – or to retreat into the spiritual safety of our synagogues and batei midrash – contemporary remnants of Beit Hashem.
Chanukah reminds us that enduring strength depends equally on both: Beit Hashem, meaning inner faith and resolve, and Beit HaMelech, the political and military structures needed to sustain and live by the Torah’s values.
Rabbi Alan Haber has been involved in Torah education for about forty years, and currently serves on the faculty of Midreshet Torah V’Avoda (MTVA). He is member of the editorial staff of the Koren Talmud Bavli, several editions of the new Koren Tanakh, and the upcoming English edition of the Steinsaltz commentary on the Rambam. Many of his shiurim and publications can be seen on his website: www.rabbihaber.net