As we approach the mitzvah of hadlakat nerot, we are confronted with a hard truth. Being that we are in the Galut, due to external and social considerations, we are forced to light inside our homes. We assume, and rightfully so, the ideal Mitzvahof Chanukahis to be done outside. Lighting the menorah is a means of actualizing Pe’ersumaiNisa, publicizing the miracle to the masses. Naturally, lighting in one’s private domain can be seen as an act antithetical to pirsum. However, upon a further analysis of the Halacha, the reshuthayachiddoes seem to play a major role in the mitzvahof Chanukah, informing the attitude we should have when we light today, inside our homes.
The Gemara Shabbos(21b) offers two understands of the requirement to light “Ad She’tichle Regel Min ha’shook.” This refers either to a specific time zone for lighting or a way to gauge how much oil should place in each cup. As for this halacha, is this timeslot unpassable or is it just a recommendation? The Rashbaunderstands this an ideal time, allowing for a greater awareness of the miracle; however, like any other mitzvahwhich is performed during the night hours, it may be done throughout the entire night. The Rambamhowever understands that this is a maximum limitation. After the time passed one may not light anymore. Following the Rashba’sruling, nowadays, the Ba’ali Tosefosexplain, given our situation, we light inside, and thus, the demand to light within the timeframe of the Gemarais null since lighting Nerot Chanukah still produces pe’rsumfor the people in his house. It seems that Tosefotunderstand the nature of publicizing the miracle today has shifted from a public forum to a more private setting.
The story of Chanukah is one of the most famous stories in Jewish history and basically all Jews know how the ending goes; The Jews won and couldn’t find any pure oil because the Greeks had defiled all the oil, except one jar. Miraculously that one jar lasted eight nights which was long enough for the Jews to get more pure oil. In remembrance of this miracle, we light the Menorah for eight nights representing the miracle of the one jar that lasted eight nights.
There are two major questions that arise as a result of this. Firstly, why did the Greeks defile all the oil, wouldn’t it have been a lot quicker and effective to either destroy it or use them for their own benefit? Secondly, it makes sense that we celebrate the miracle for nights 2-8, since that was the miracle of the candle lasting, but the first night seemingly isn’t a miracle at all?
Hanukkah is Judaism’s most universal holiday with deep resonance for all Americans.
Our great country was founded by refugees who escaped religious persecution in Europe and were prepared to cross an ocean in order to found a colony where they could worship as they chose. Indeed, freedom of religion applied as a principle of colonial government goes back to the Maryland Toleration Act of 1649, which provided that “No person or persons … shall from henceforth be any waies troubled, molested or discountenanced for or in respect of his or her religion nor in the free exercise thereof.” By 1777 Thomas Jefferson himself had drafted The Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom, one of only three achievements Jefferson instructed be put on his tombstone.
For Jews, however, practicing our religion has never been as straightforward. Throughout history we have had to fight and die simply to observe our faith. Hanukkah represents a triumphant moment in the second century B.C.E. when that struggle was victorious.
In order to truly understand the essence of Teshuva, we must distill the process and then rebuild it from the ground up, thereby allowing us an authentic appreciation of the dynamics of Rosh Hashanaand Yom Kippur. The Rambam in Hilchot Teshuva discusses three necessary steps for achieving complete Kapara (atonement) in the Teshuva process. The first step is Viduy, translated as confession. It is accomplished through a verbal confession; the words cannot be in our mind, but must be on our lips. The second step is Charata, loosely translated as regret. It is the emotion that must accompany the verbal confession. Lastly, we must vow to never commit the specific sin again. This is called Kabbalat Al Ha’atid.
There is a lovely story about time, it goes as follows: two elderly Jews who haven’t seen each other in fifty years, meet, slowly recognize one another, and embrace. They go back to the apartment of one of them to talk about the days long ago.
The conversation goes on for hours. Night falls. One asks the other, “Look at your watch. What time is it?” “I don’t have a watch,” says the second.
“Then look at the clock.”
“I don’t have a clock.”
“Then how do you tell the time?”
“You see that trumpet in the corner? That’s how I tell the time.”
“You’re crazy,” says the first, “How can you tell the time with a trumpet?”
“I’ll show you.”
He picks up the trumpet, opens the window and blows a deafening blast. Thirty seconds later, an angry neighbor shouts out, “Two-thirty in the morning, and you’re playing the trumpet?” The man turns to his friend and says, “You see? That’s how you tell the time with a trumpet!” Roughly speaking, that’s how the greatest rabbi of the Middle Ages, Moses Maimonides, explained why we blow a shofar (ram’s horn) on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, which we celebrate in six days’ time.
The shofar of Rosh Hashana is associated with many themes and touch points in Jewish history. These include: freedom, Teshuva, inaugurating a King, Matan Torah, Moshiach, resurrection of the dead and akeidas Yitzchok. Rabbeinu Saadya Gaon identified ten distinct motifs associated with shofar.
A less known motif linking shofar and Rosh Hashana is that of an impending war. Interestingly, many references within Tanakh depict the shofar as a call to arms or as a battle cry to rally the troops. Indeed, the image of the shofar is sometimes actually synonymous with that of war, as evidenced in the following pesukim:
בדי שופר יאמר האח ומרחוק יריח מלחמה רעם שרים ותרועה
As the [blasts of the] shofar increase, he says ‘Hurrah!’ From the distance he smells battle, the thunder of officers and shouting (Iyov (39, 25)
כי קול שופר שמעת נפשי תרועת מלחמה
For you have heard the sound of the shofar, O my soul, the blast of war (Yirmiyahu 4, 19).
In what sense does the shofar of Rosh Hashana carry an association with battle? We know that Rosh Hashana is a Yom Hadin – a day of judgment. We refer to this day as Yom Hazikaron – The Day of remembrance. But we don’t usually think of Rosh Hashana in terms of war.
After the spiritual preparation of Elul comes Rosh Hashanah, which celebrates the creation of the first human being. At that time, we do have a specific mitzvah, injunction, to realize— that is to listen— to the Shofar: “It shall be a day of shofar sounding for you “. (Numbers 29, 1).
The shofar, this ram’s horn, embodies the essence of this special day. Among the ten reasons mentioned by Rav Saadia Gaon to explain the meaning of these sounds, there is one particular reason that must always give us confidence in the future. Rosh Hashanah, the first of Tishrei— is the anniversary of the creation of Mankind by the Almighty. With the appearance of Adam and his wife Eve, the Lord becomes the bearer of the King of Humanity’s title. To recall the beginning of His reign, we sound Shofar like the great royal courts where the coronation of a new ruler was accompanied by such ringtones in long horns.
In our liturgy, Rosh Hashanah is nicknamed by our Sages “Yom Hazikarone,” which means the day of remembrance. At the beginning of the year, we recall in our prayers, the key characters of our History and the decisive moments of the epic of Humanity: Noah and his family, to whom mankind owes his survival, as well as the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, who have implored the Almighty, that He may open to them the doors of fertility on this day.
“Sound the Shofar at the moon’s renewal, at the appointed time for our festive day, for it is a decree for Israel, judgment day for the G-d of Yaakov.”(Tehillim 91)
We recite this verse as we prepare for the first Amidah of Rosh Hashana, for our first opportunity to stand in G-d’s presence on this day of affirmation of His Kingdom. This verse from the Psalms is laden with meaning, and much is derived from it regarding the character of Rosh Hashana.
Harav Yissachar Shlomo Teichtal, HYD, was a prominent Slovakian Rav who was ultimately murdered in the Holocaust, and was keenly aware of the painful upheavals – both internal and external – that the Jewish people were experiencing, yet with his unique perspective he was able to see in the Hell that had broken loose around him the seeds that would plant the Garden of Eden in Eretz Yisrael.
One of the central aspects of his work and writing was his perspective on Jews who were not perfect, who lived their lives differently than he and not in line with the tradition, sometimes even opposed to it. His beautiful and uplifting perspective on the imperfect Jew informs his insight into this verse and into the awesome Yom Tov we are about to begin.
Why does the verse attribute the judgment of Rosh Hashana to Elokei Yaakov, the G-d of Jacob? Why does the verse specifically associate Yaakov with this Day of Judgment?
It is unusual to have Torah reading during the afternoon prayers and particularly uncommon to have it include a portion from the prophets as a Haftorah. It only occurs on fast days, not even on the Sabbath The haftorah read, including on Tisha Bav, is always the same, Dirshu from Isaiah fifty five. It is ultimate expression of repentance leading to the ultimate redemption. The initial verse hints at the period between Rosh Hashana and Yom Hakippurim, which should have led to it being read on Yom Hakippurim itself.
Strengthening this presumption is the view of the Mechaber, that after reading the Haftorah during Mincha that the blessings recited don’t mention that the day is Yom Kippurim indicating that the reading reflects that it is a fast day. Even the contrasting view of the RAMA which requires adding a blessing on the sanctity of the day doesn’t exclude the likelihood that the reading reflects the aspect of the day’s character that reflects it being a day of fasting.
The question becomes why we don’t read that portion and instead read the book of Yonah?
(Translated from Hebrew)
“He Who opens the gate to those who come knocking in repentance”-
The Teshuva Refuser
While perusing the Book of Yonah and following the development of the story it relates, we cannot but be astonished at Yonah’s stubborn and consistent refusal to incorporate the concept of teshuva into his own life. Our amazement at his refusal to proclaim Hashem’s prophecy for Nineveh is surpassed by that engendered by his ongoing refusal to ‘return’ to his Creator, to do his own personal teshuva, in the face of the vicissitudes brought upon him by Hashem.
A ship about to be broken apart by a storm at sea, its sailors’ naked fear and their heartfelt cries, are not enough to prevent Yonah from sleeping soundly in the bottom of the ship, sunk in his own sins. This is not intentional suicide in order to escape prophesying at Nineveh, as we might think at first glance, but a deep-seated opposition to the concept of teshuva, as will be evidenced from a close reading of the book’s next chapters.
His very soul under water, lost in the bowels of a whale in the depths of the ocean, Yonah calls out to Hashem, pleading, praying, describing the crises and waves that have tried to overcome him, recalling the ‘halls of Hashem’ and even vowing to bring a thanksgiving offering to the Beit Hamikdash as mandated for survivors of life-threatening danger. All this makes the absence of confession and teshuva for his transgression all the more glaring, and the Abarbanel notes that omission. Was it not incumbent upon Yonah to do teshuva in his hour of suffering? Is it possible to utter his heartfelt tefillah without doing repentance?
Even later on, once he has delivered the prophecy at Nineveh, when Yonah asks for death as the sun’s rays beat mercilessly on his head, he refuses to ‘return’ to Hashem. The Angel of Death’s sword hovers above his neck, but he still refuses to confess and express regret at his wrongful actions. It is hard not to think of the Rambam’s strong words at the start of the Laws of Fasting (Chap. 1, 13) concerning the trait of cruelty that epitomizes those who do not do teshuva despite the troubles and sufferings to which they are subjected. Doesn’t Yonah’s repeated hardheartedness evince a most terrible cruelty – meted out by Yonah to his own self?