Chanukah lights placed higher than 20 cubits (about 9 meters or 30 feet) above the floor of a dwelling do not fulfill the holiday’s mitzva, proclaims Rav Kahana in the Talmud (Shabbat 22a), quoting Rav Natan bar Manyomi in the name of Rabbi Tanchum. This rule parallels the religious laws concerning the maximum height of sukkot and a mavoi, crossbeam of an eruv used to mark off an area in which it is permitted to carry objects on Shabbat, because all of these cases depend on a normal human line of sight. If the lights, or the sukkot or eruvin, are too high, they are not easily visible. When it comes to Chanukah there is also deeper symbolic significance for this theme of visibility and sight, which is part of the festival’s larger moral message and is especially relevant for our own turbulent times.
The discussion regarding the height of the Chanukah lights appears in its natural context, amid the laws of the holiday in Tractate Shabbat. However, the Talmud then seems to take an abrupt turn, again quoting Rav Kahana, Rav Natan bar Manyomi, and Rabbi Tanchum, expounding on a verse in our parsha concerning the pit into which Yosef was thrown by his brothers: “The pit was empty; there was no water in it” (Bereishiet 37:24). The Talmud asks: If we know that the pit was empty, then why do we need to be informed that there was no water in it? It responds that the verse implies that while there was no water in the pit, it did contain dangerous animals such as snakes and scorpions.
Why does the Talmud place this homiletic interpretation of the text in the middle of a discussion of Chanukah? Is it simply that once one relevant statement is mentioned in the name of certain rabbis, the Talmud included unrelated teachings handed down through the same sages?
It is much more than that. If we look closely, we can discover in the seemingly random position of these two teachings a thematic connection between Chanukah and this week’s parsha —and between spiritual illumination and brotherly love. Parshat Vayeshev is always read either on the Shabbat before Chanukah or on its first Shabbat, hinting at a deep conceptual relationship between this Torah portion and the festival of lights.
The main idea of Chanukah is the spiritual illumination of the public sphere; hence the requirement to place the lights in a place and at a height that is visible to the public, and at a time when people are present. Parshat Vayeshev, on the other hand, revolves around the idea of brotherly loyalty and betrayal, exemplified by the casting of Yosef into the pit and his sale into slavery.
The message found in these two pronouncements of the Talmud is that these two themes are interdependent. If we wish to dispel societal darkness – wickedness, injustice, oppression – we must begin by focusing on our own sense of empathy and identification with our brothers and sisters, the very foundation of any community striving to bring the Torah’s light into the world. If we are willing to sell out those dearest to us for personal gain, or – worse – to do so in God’s name, if we are able to blind ourselves to their pain, to prey on them and humiliate them, then the holiday of Chanukah cannot realize its goal.
Thus, the insertion of this teaching about Yosef immediately after the law of the menorah’s height is not an accident due only to the coincidence of its authorship. On the contrary – the Talmud is highlighting the interdependence of ethical responsibility and personal and communal decency. We must keep our brothers and sisters constantly in our line of vision – in our sights and in our minds. It doesn’t matter if our fellow Jews act or observe Judaism differently than we do, our responsibility toward every Jew is sacrosanct and sealed in the blood of our collective covenant. This responsibility is what ultimately enables us to illuminate the public sphere.
The holiday of Chanukah is about correcting the evils of history described so luridly in Parshat Vayeshev. The light of Chanukah is the light of empathy, of brotherhood, of loyalty. It is the conviction that every Jew, and every human being, deserves to be seen.