בָּרוּךְ דַּיַּן הָאֱמֶת
In this Hevrutah, we want to ask a simpler and deeper question:
What does Chanukah teach us about resilience and hope — especially when pain and grief is ever-present?
וייקהלו כל אנשי הצבא ויעלו יחדו על הר ציון.
Upon this all the host assembled themselves together, and went up into mount Sion.
ויהי בראותם את המקדש כי שמם, ואת המזבח כי חולל, והדלתות שרופות באש והלשכות נהרסות, ועשב השדה צמח בכל גבולו מסביב.
And when they saw the sanctuary desolate, and the altar profaned, and the gates burned up, and shrubs growing in the courts as in a forest, or in one of the mountains, yea, and the priests’ chambers pulled down;
ויקרעו את בגדיהם ויזרקו עפר על ראשם ויתאבלו מאוד.
They rent their clothes, and made great lamentation, and cast ashes upon their heads,
ויריעו בחצוצרות תרועה, ויפלו על פניהם ותעל שוועתם השמיימה.
And fell down flat to the ground upon their faces, and blew an alarm with the trumpets, and cried toward heaven.
ויבחר מן הכוהנים אשר לא נטמאו ואשר לא עזבו את ברית אלוהיהם, ויצוום לטהר את המקדש ולהשליך את האבנים אשר נטמאו אל מקום טמא.
So he chose priests of blameless conversation, such as had pleasure in the law: Who cleansed the sanctuary, and bare out the defiled stones into an unclean place.
2. What does hope look like here — confidence, stubbornness, faith, responsibility?
3. How is this different from hope as “everything will be okay”?
We invite you to use these kavanot to reflect on what Chanukah and the possibility of light within darkness might mean for you, wherever you are.
2. And if I cannot feel hope right now, what might it mean to let the light stay — without demanding anything from it?