Flames That Wept for Their People

12/8/23

Last night, as we lit the Menorah at our home, I sat down and watched the candles burn. Halacha, or Jewish law, says that one should watch the flames burn for at least half an hour.

We watch them burn because they have a story to tell. And the more you watch them, the more they tell their story. The more you listen, the more they talk.

But last night, while watching the flames flicker, I felt that they had too much to share. That celebrating Chanukah with Israel in crisis and antisemitism rampant would have the candles overwhelmed, not knowing where to begin their story.

Perhaps that's why we have eight nights. Each night, we can listen as they talk. And each night, we can dig deeper into ourselves to discover even more timely messages from the Menorah's flames.

But yesterday, as Mendel sat upon my lap, and Hadassah and Chaya gathered beside me, I stared at the candles and heard them promise that just like the Maccabees 2000 years ago, we too will see victory, and security will be brought back to the Jewish people in Israel.

I heard them share the stories of Jews who kindled their lights for 2000 years amid persecution and hardships. And I heard them promise that Jews will be lighting their flames in 2000 years down the road as well.

I heard them grieve for our people who were butchered just two months ago, and I heard them promise that the light of Israel will shine yet again, even stronger.

I heard them cry for Jewish students across the country who don't feel safe on campus, and I heard them speak in disgust of the Ivy League Presidents who, with cynical smirks, said that calling for the genocide of Jews is sometimes okay.

I heard them being afraid for Jewish people in Europe who are scared to walk down the streets, and I heard them promise that this, too, will be no more than a fleeting bad dream.

I heard them tell the story of our people's resolve and commitment to being Jewish, despite all odds, through millennia of persecution. And I saw them shed a tear for those we lost by assimilation.

I heard them share how their lights were being lit in public ceremonies across the globe, and that amid all this darkness Jewish hearts were being healed by their presence. And I heard them blush over Martha's Vineyard's own public menorahs in Vineyard Haven, Oak Bluffs, and Edgartown.

I heard them promise that Am Yisrael Chai, that the Jewish People will live on, and that nothing will ever knock us down. And I heard them plead that we do what it takes so that our families will forever be part of the Jewish story.

I heard them promise that their light will forever give us comfort and warmth. And I heard them beseech that we keep them close to our hearts.

I heard them promise they'd continue telling their story. And I heard them beckon that we continue to listen.