Joy in a Time of Worry

I wanted a miracle. But there were no miracles during that Hanukkah. Where was God? I kept dreaming of burning synagogues.
On the eighth and final night of the festival I stood with my parents in front of the burning candles. The darkness mocked their light. I could see my parents glancing at me. My mother sighed. Then my father murmured my name.
“You want another miracle?” he asked wearily.
I did not respond.
“Yes,” he said, “You want another miracle.” He was silent a moment. Then he said, in a gentle, urging voice, “I also want another miracle. But if it does not come, we will make a human miracle. We will give the world the special gifts of our Jewishness. We will not let the world burn out our souls.”

The candles glowed feebly against the dark window.
“Sometimes I think man is a greater miracle-maker than God,” my father said tiredly, looking at the candles. “God does not have to live day after day on this broken planet. Perhaps you will learn to make your own miracles.”
I lay awake a long time that night and did not believe my father could ever teach me that. But now, decades later, I think he taught me well. And I am trying hard to teach it to my own children.

Chaim Potok, recalling his experiences during Hanukkah of 1938

משנה תורה, הלכות מגילה וחנוכה ג׳:ג׳

וּמִפְּנֵי זֶה הִתְקִינוּ חֲכָמִים שֶׁבְּאוֹתוֹ הַדּוֹר שֶׁיִּהְיוּ שְׁמוֹנַת הַיָּמִים הָאֵלּוּ שֶׁתְּחִלָּתָן כ''ה בְּכִסְלֵו יְמֵי שִׂמְחָה וְהַלֵּל וּמַדְלִיקִין בָּהֶן הַנֵּרוֹת בָּעֶרֶב עַל פִּתְחֵי הַבָּתִּים בְּכָל לַיְלָה וְלַיְלָה מִשְּׁמוֹנַת הַלֵּילוֹת לְהַרְאוֹת וּלְגַלּוֹת הַנֵּס.

Mishneh Torah, Scroll of Esther and Hanukkah 3:3

The Sages established that these eight days which begin on the 25th of Kislev should be days of joy, and the singing of praises, and that we should kindle lights at the entrances of our houses each of the eight nights, to demonstrate and reveal the miracle.

שבת כ״א ב:ח׳

תנו רבנן: נר חנוכה מצוה להניחה על פתח ביתו מבחוץ אם היה דר בעלייה מניחה בחלון הסמוכה לרשות הרבים ובשעת הסכנה מניחה על שלחנו ודיו.

Shabbat 21b:8

Our sages taught: It is a mitzvah to place the Hanukkah lamp at the entrance to one’s house on the outside, so that all can see it. If one lives upstairs, they place it in a window facing the public domain. And in a time of danger, one may place it on the table and that is sufficient to fulfill one's obligation.

קיצור שלחן ערוך קל״ט:ז׳

מִצְוַת נֵר חֲנֻכָּה, לְהַדְלִיק בַּפֶּתַח הַסָּמוּךְ לִרְשׁוּת הָרַבִּים, מִשּׁוּם פִּרְסוּמֵי נִסָּא, וְכָךְ הָיוּ עוֹשִׂין בִּזְמַן הַמִּשְׁנָה וְהַגְּמָרָא. וּבַזְּמַן הַזֶּה שֶׁאָנוּ דָרִים בֵּין הָאֻמּוֹת, מַדְלִיקִין בַּבַּיִת שֶׁהוּא דָר בּוֹ. וְאִם יֶשׁ לוֹ חַלּוֹן לִרְשׁוּת הָרַבִּים, יַדְלִיקֵם שָׁם. וְאִם לָאו, מַדְלִיקָן אֵצֶל הַפָּתַח.

Kitzur Shulchan Arukh 139:7

It is a mitzvah to light the menorah in the doorway that faces the public domain, in order to publicize the miracle; and it was done in this manner in the days of the Mishnah and the Talmud. Now, since we live among others, we light the menorah in the house. If you have a window facing the street, you should light it there; if not, you should light it near the door.

Pessimists and assimilationists have more than once informed Jews that there is no more oil left to burn. As long as Hanukkah is studied and remembered, Jews will not surrender to the night. The proper response, as Hanukkah teaches, is not to curse the darkness but to light a candle.
From The Jewish Way: Living the Holidays, by Rabbi Irving Greenberg