Hanukkah & Parashat Mikeitz: Illuminating Our Inner TemplesDedicated to the neshamah of Rav

As we prepare to light the first candle of Hanukkah tonight, we’re invited not just to kindle flames—but to ignite something much deeper: our own inner light, our spiritual clarity, our connection to Torah and Hashem.

In this week’s Parashat Mikeitz, the themes of light and darkness, memory and forgetfulness, and physical versus spiritual strength weave together beautifully with the message of Hanukkah. Let’s explore how.

Why Did the Greeks Dominate Us?

The Greek exile—known in Torah as Choshech (darkness)—was not just political. It was ideological and spiritual. Unlike previous empires, Greece didn’t seek to destroy us physically but to dim our spiritual flame.

Our Sages explain that in the beginning of creation, “Tohu VaVohu, Choshech al Pnei Tehom” represents the four major exiles. “Choshech” refers to Yavan (Greece)—a culture that celebrated external beauty, logic, and physical perfection, yet was void of eternal meaning.

The Greeks, descendants of Yefet, glorified the human form, sculpture, architecture, and the Olympic Games. Their goal wasn’t just conquest—it was cultural assimilation. They demanded we abandon our Torah identity and inscribed their ideology on the “horns of our oxen”: “Ein lanu chelek b’Elokei Yisrael”—“We have no portion in the God of Israel.”

They desecrated the Beit HaMikdash and tore down the soreg, the divider that symbolized Am Yisrael’s unique relationship with Hashem. As Torah teaches: “Hen am levadad yishkon”—a nation destined to dwell apart, unmixed, like oil in water.

Choshech and Shik’cha: The Danger of Forgetting Torah

My father taught that Choshech (darkness) and Shik’cha (forgetfulness) share the same spiritual root. The Greeks didn’t just challenge our bodies—they targeted our memory, our spiritual identity, and our transmission of Torah.

They forced the translation of Torah into 70 languages, stripping it of its oral tradition, attempting to sever the generational chain of emunah. While translation may open the door to knowledge, it often loses the depth and soul only Torah Sheba’al Peh can provide.

Without Torah, there is no light. As our Sages say: “Ein mayim ela Torah”—water symbolizes Torah. Without it, one descends into a pit filled with spiritual dangers, like Yosef in the empty pit with snakes and scorpions in this week’s parsha.

The Power of the Ner Maaravi: When the Flame Went Out

One of the greatest signs of Hashem’s presence in the Beit HaMikdash was the Ner Maaravi, the western lamp of the Menorah, which miraculously stayed lit beyond its expected time. This flame represented ongoing Divine connection, especially through the tribes of Yosef and Binyamin.

But when Alexander the Great conquered Eretz Yisrael, that miracle ceased. Shimon HaTzadik, our righteous Kohen Gadol, understood it as a warning: we were letting go of our light. Greek culture was creeping into the sanctity of our Mikdash and our lives.

Hanukkah: Chinuch and the Art of Sustained Inspiration

The word Hanukkah shares a root with Chinuch—education. It’s not just a holiday of miracles; it’s about rededication. Not only to the Beit HaMikdash, but to our homes, our children, and our inner selves.

The 25th of Kislev, the day Hanukkah begins, corresponds to the 25 letters of Shema Yisrael, the eternal cry of Jewish faith. The Hashmonaim knew their success wasn’t in numbers—it was in emunah, in remembering who we are and Whose we are.

Like David HaMelech sings in the Psalm of Chanukat HaBayit: “Aromimcha Hashem ki dilitani”—"I exalt You, Hashem, for You drew me up like a pail from a deep well.” Even in darkness, Hashem lifts us when we hold onto Him.

Olive Oil: Bitterness Turned Sweet

Why do we light the Menorah with olive oil?

Because olives must be crushed to release their sweetness. The bitter becomes beautiful. The trials of life, when met with faith, become sweet light.

Olive oil is also known to strengthen memory—a fitting antidote to the forgetfulness the Greeks tried to impose. It doesn’t mix with other liquids, reminding us that Am Yisrael is not meant to assimilate. Our strength is in our difference, our inner flame.

“L’hadlik ner Chanukah”—even the tiniest spark can light others. That’s our mission. To illuminate, inspire, and bring light to even the darkest places.

Parashat Mikeitz: Lessons from the Pit

In Parashat Mikeitz, Yosef is remembered and elevated from the pit of prison to Pharaoh’s palace. The Torah says, “HaBor reik ein bo mayim”—the pit was empty, no water. Rashi tells us: there were snakes and scorpions.

Without Torah (symbolized by water), we are vulnerable to unseen spiritual dangers. Just as Yosef held tightly to Hashem in the darkness, we too must hold fast to our Torah, especially in the spiritual challenges of modern life.

A Hanukkah Story: The 14th Child

A man was rushing his wife, in labor with their 14th child, from Boro Park to Manhattan. In his panic, he sped through the Battery Tunnel toll. Pulled over by the police, he explained the emergency. The officer didn’t just let him go—he personally escorted them to the hospital.

Later, when the father returned to pay the toll, the attendant told him: “Two other Jews already paid it for you. They saw and understood.”

This is Am Yisrael: unity, empathy, responsibility for one another. It’s this deep sense of connection that keeps our flame burning, generation after generation.

Bringing the Light Home

This Hanukkah and Shabbat Parashat Mikeitz, may we each:

• Rekindle our connection to Torah and emunah

• Recognize the power of spiritual memory

• See the light in our own personal "darkness"

• Strengthen our identity and uniqueness as Jews

Even a small flame can dispel great darkness. May our homes be filled with warmth, gratitude, and the sweet light of miracles, past and present.

Wishing you a lichtige Hanukkah, a peaceful Shabbat, and a Chodesh Tov.

With love from Antwerp,Rebbetzin Chavi Golovenshitz