Miracles then, miracles now: Chanukah 5785

Tonight we begin to light our chanukiyot to mark the miracles of Chanukah. So this week we feature two divrei Torah from Rabbi Wein on Chanukah, as well as a devar Torah on parashat Miketz.

Chanukah commemorates miracles that happened to our ancestors in previous times but at this time of year. Miracles are ever-present in our lives and in world events. A miracle, in human terms, can be defined as an unexpected and unforeseen occurrence that benefits an individual or society at large. This definition removes miracles from the realm of superstition and occult powers, making them part of our natural everyday world. It is just simply that events occur of which we were unaware or which we never really believed would occur. This is certainly the case for the miracles of Chanukah. Even though the main miracle that we commemorate is truly a wondrous event (the fact that oil in the lamp should have sufficed only for one day but lasted for eight days), this is not the only miracle that the holiday marks. In the special prayer to commemorate the holiday, we record other wondrous events that occurred to our ancestors at this time of year: in substance, the weak overcame the strong, good triumphed over evil and the few were victorious against the many. All these things qualify as being miraculous even though they were brought about through human effort and were seemingly part of the natural course of events. This point really helps us understand the true nature of what we humans call miracles. 

Our holiday prayer acknowledges the miracles that the Lord performed for us long ago in our struggles and wars against the Greeks. We understand that, in all wars, unforeseen events occur and that, both on the level of the individual soldier and of the general outcome of the war, there is adequate scope for people to feel that miracles occurred. However, on a deeper level I think that the fact that the small band of Jews who were still devoted to Jewish tradition and Torah values actually went to war for their spiritual survival is itself to be judged as being miraculous. Good people are often peace-loving, being averse to violence and certainly war. The good therefore tend to let themselves be persecuted and intimidated by evil forces rather than stand up and fight for their values and their survival. Chanukah teaches that there are times when our survival spiritually as a people – as the chosen people – depends on our willingness to fight for our cause and our future. When that happens, it is natural to feel that this is all part of the rational world which we supposedly inhabit. However, again on a deeper level I think that such a response borders on the miraculous and that the prayers of this holiday reflect this in a most positive and clear fashion. 

We too live in miraculous times. There is no other way that we can characterize the events of the past century of Jewish life except by recognizing the miraculous and even supernatural guidance that has steered us through this turbulent period. We are living examples of the Talmud’s statement that one who experiences miracles does not recognize the course of events as being especially miraculous. But, based on rational expectations and patterns of history, no event that has befallen the Jewish people over the past century can be considered normal or rational. One such event is that, through the presence of the state of Israel, the Jewish people rose up to defend their faith and national destiny and, for the first time in millennia, actually took up arms to defeat enemies who sought our destruction. This is part of the story of age-old miracles that are relevant and alive in our time too. The message of this holiday is subtle and enduring. We should be cognizant of our miraculous status and be grateful to the Almighty for having allowed us to see this as we participate in our own modern ongoing miracle. 

Shabbat shalom and Chanukah same’ach, Rabbi Berel Wein

Miracles, Teshuvah and the NY Times

This piece, by Hanassi member Rabbi Paul Bloom, was published yesterday in Jewish Link. Thank you, Paul, for letting us republish it here.

On Erev Rosh Hashanah, as households busied themselves with preparations for the three-day holiday, a different sound pierced the air—not the blasts of a shofar, but the wailing of sirens echoing across the country. For nearly an hour, Israelis were urged to take shelter in public and private spaces, or in windowless rooms, as nearly 200 ballistic missiles rained down on Israel from Iran. Miraculously, not one Israeli was seriously harmed. This incredible outcome is a testament to the effectiveness of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) and, many believe, the protective hand of Hashem. 

Interestingly, a cloud cover shrouded much of the country that day—an unusual occurrence for this time of year, evoking memories of the protective cloud that surrounded the Children of Israel during their journey through the desert, thousands of years ago. 

Many may not fully grasp the magnitude of the miracle that unfolded on Erev Rosh Hashanah. Israel boasts three air defense systems, each a technological marvel designed to intercept missiles at various ranges: Iron Dome, David's Sling, and the Arrow system. That night, as Iranian missiles descended upon Israel, all three defense systems were flawlessly activated and executed, working in perfect unison—a feat so complex that the odds of it happening without a hitch are nearly non-existent. 

Had any one of these systems failed, the consequences could have been catastrophic, with hundreds of Israelis potentially killed or injured. Understanding the intricacies of what transpired that night and throughout the ongoing conflict, it becomes clear that the low number of casualties is akin to witnessing a modern-day miracle—similar to the splitting of the Red Sea thousands of years ago. 

Historically, there have always been those who questioned the miraculous nature of such events, whether during the War of Independence, the Six-Day War, or the Yom Kippur War. Similarly, the events of Erev Rosh Hashanah stand as just one of many miracles experienced over the past year. From the interception of hundreds of missiles and drones before Passover to the incredible  detonation of  thousands of pagers and Walkie Talkies to the successful detonation of crucial targets in enemy bunkers, these instances reflect unprecedented military achievements with remarkably low civilian casualties. 

The sirens that night served not only as a warning to seek shelter but also as a divine call for teshuvah (repentance). As Rabbi Wein emphasized in his 69th consecutive Shabbat Shuvah drasha, teshuvah is a personal journey. A journey  that  starts out  with one  small step. Hashem is looking  for that small step, not the the completion of the entire process. Some reach out to those they may have wronged, while others recognize a greater divine orchestration in the events unfolding around them. The miraculous successes of the IDF can no longer be dismissed as mere coincidence or the product of skillful strategy. 

Yet, there remains a segment of the world that fails to recognize these miracles, including major media outlets like the New York Times. In their coverage of Israel's actions, particularly following the elimination of terrorist leader Nasrallah, the Times framed the operation as an “escalation” while eulogizing a man who sought the destruction of Israel. Such biased reporting does a disservice to the truth and reveals a disturbing tendency to sympathize with those who wish harm upon Israel and the Jewish people. 

As we reflect on the three types of sins we must atone for—between man and Hashem, between man and man, and between man and himself—it's crucial not to overlook the latter. The process of teshuvah may begin with small, deliberate actions. 

In Shaarei Teshuvah (Sha’ar Aleph), Rabbenu Yonah presents a poignant parable about a group of prisoners who were digging a tunnel to escape. As they made their way to freedom, everyone successfully broke free except for one man. When the king's guard discovered him, he began to beat this lone prisoner. The question arises: why was the guard punishing him? 

Various interpretations exist, but one key lesson stands out: this prisoner had the opportunity to escape; he simply chose not to make the effort. His failure to act serves as a powerful metaphor for the teshuvah (repentance) process. Often, all it takes to begin our journey toward repentance is a small, intentional effort. 

This idea also resonates with the story of King Achav (Malachim I), one of Israel's most notorious rulers. When Eliyahu Hanavi questioned why Achav’s teshuvah would never be accepted, the answer was clear: Achav made no genuine effort to change. Had he taken even the slightest  genuine step toward repentance, it would have been recognized and accepted. 

Just like the prisoner and Achav, many of us find ourselves held back by our own reluctance to act. The path to freedom and spiritual growth can often start with a simple decision to make that first effort. 

For those who support platforms that promote anti-Israel sentiments, the decision to disengage from such sources is a simple, yet significant act of teshuvah. Excuses for maintaining subscriptions or advertising in biased media outlets do not hold water; the time has come to seek alternatives that align more closely with our values. 

This Yom Kippur, may we all come to recognize the miracles that Hashem has performed for the Jewish people over the past year. Let us take those small steps toward teshuvah, collectively accelerating the journey towards our final  redemption.