Today was a very special day at Congregation Kneseth Israel. Today, which was erev, erev Chanukah, we dedicated a new Ner Tamid, Eternal Light. It was an Eternal Light that the Macabees relit when they rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem after the war in 165 BCE. The word Chanukah itself means rededication.

Throughout the Shabbat morning service I wove in references to dedication and light. The new Ner Tamid, created by artist Claude Riedel in Minnesota is even more beautiful than any picture can do. And his reason for crafting such beauty only adds to the beauty. His grandfather was in Kristalnacht in Germany in 1938. Claude’s personal mission is to take shards of broken glass and fuse them together, creating more wholeness and more light.

Light has a power in Judaism. When G-d made the world, G-d made it full of light. G-d made the sun and the moon. G-d made the stars. The Jewish mystics teach that G-d’s presence filled the whole universe. To make room for creation, G-d first took a deep breath, contracting Himself. In that contraction, all was dark. When G-d said, “Let there be light,” there was light and G-d saw it was good. That light filled ten holy vessels but that primordial light was too bright and it shattered the vessels. The holy sparks were scattered everywhere. We exist to bring those sparks back together again. That is what tikkun olam, repair of the world, means, reuniting the divine sparks.

There is another place where there were shards. After Moses smashed the first tablets of the 10 Commandments, the midrash teaches that the Israelites placed the shards in the Holy Ark together with the whole set of tablets. Estelle Frankel in her book Sacred Therapy, said, “Sometimes we learn to appreciate life’s gifts only after we have lost them.” Ultimately, Frankel concludes, “the whole and the broken live side by side in us all, as our broken dreams and shattered visions exist alongside our actual lives.”[1]

The Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years. Each time they would set up a mishkan, a portable sanctuary, a dwelling place for G-d. This is where they would meet G-d. As a sign of G-d’s Eternal presence, the Shechinah, there was a lamp. Mishkan and Shechinah have the same root in Hebrew. That lamp was carefully attended so that it was always lit. It was like Lucy’s sign. The doctor is in. If the light was lit, then G-d was in.

There are exacting details of how to make the light, all of gold. This tradition continued in the First Temple and the Second Temple. When the Assyrians desecrated the Holy Temple, the Maccabees fought back.

When I took a class on liturgy with Larry Hoffman he told the story of a woman who explained that light is the symbol of the divine. He wondered how did she know that. She answered it is on page x of the old Union Prayer book. The responsive reading for candle lighting says…
“Come, let us welcome the Sabbath. May its radiance illumine our hearts ad we kindle these tapers. Light is the symbol of the divine. The Lord is my light and my salvation. Lithgt is the symbol of the divine in man. The spirit of man is the light of the Lord. Light is the symbol of the divine law. For the commandment is a lamp and the law is a light.”

She had memorized the reading and internalized the message. Maybe we all have. The rabbis had it right. There is no question that light is powerful. That light brings joy. The new research on seasonal affective disorder would back them up. The more light, the better people feel.

That brings us to Talmud. Last night we talked about the first question in the Talmud. From when can you say the morning Sh’ma. It all has to do with gradations of light. Perhaps when you can distinguish between blue and white, or blue and green, or between a wolf and dog or an ass and wild ass. Or if you can distinguish a friend at the distance of four cubits (Berachot 9b) Light, as you can see, is very important, in how we pray.

I have here a print out of all of the laws of Chanukah in the Talmud and in the Shulchan Arukh, the way the law eventually got codified. We are not going to go through them all but they are available for reference.

The first one is an argument between Rabbi Hillel and Rabbi Shammai. How do we light candles? We know this one. By adding one candle each night. That was Rabbi Hillel’s opinion. But Rabbi Shammai had another idea. He thought on the first night we should light eight and reduce one each day similar to the offerings during Sukkot. The argument of Hillel won because by increasing the light we increase our holiness and our joy. (Talmud, Shabbat 21b)

There are a couple of other important laws on this page of the Talmud. The commandment of Chanukah is to light one light per household. The zealous kindle one light for each member of the household. Yes, that would include every member of the household. Men and women. Why are women obligated to light Chanukah lights, even if it is a time bound mitzvah which women are usually exempt from? Because as the Shulchan Arukh explains, it was because of the women that the miracle happened. In fact, two other things about women and Chanukah. Men, this is important. It is the custom that women do no work while the Chanukah lights burn. So, you are not suppose to start eating until the women are sitting. Really. Also, it is the custom to eat cheese during Chanukah because of the role that Judith played.

Finally, we are supposed to put the chanukiah in the window—or in the courtyard, for all to see, in order to publicize the miracle. Unless it is a time of danger. Then it is sufficient to have it on the table.

This is not a time of danger, although some have argued that it is. So our menorah, not yet a chanukiah, is in our window here. With just the shamash lit. I want you to understand, really, really understand, how each of you is that holy vessel, a clei kodesh, for the divine presence, the divine light that is the connection between light and soul.

Rabbi Goldie Milgram, one of my professors, has written a lovely candle meditation that I shared with Earl Sternfeld’s class last year. He and Debbie rewrote it slightly for a Hadassah Havadalah and it is now on her website.

Sit comfortably. Can everyone see the candle in the window. Stare at it gently. Focus on the flame. “In Your light, we see light. B’or-khah. Neereh Or. In Your light, we see light.”

Look at the candle flame.

The first level of soul is nefesh. The blue core of the flame. This is where you sense your soul and body connect. Place your hand where you sense your soul and body are most connected.

The yellow band of the flame is ruach, the level of your emotions. The layer of anger, joy, sadness, your feelings.

The orange band of the flame is neshamah. You are more than your feelings. You have another level of your soul: your personality, thoughts, memories, opinions, innovations.

The next level, the black farfrizzlings, is the hardest to see, I think. The Chayah, life itself, represents your intuition. This is the quality of the soul that helps you to stay alive during the times when it feels you are crawling on the ground with your fingernails just to survive, to tolerate the sometimes pain of life.

The candle’s heat and light, yechidah. Hard to know where this begins and ends. The is where your soul is unified and undifferentiable from all Being, from G-d. This is where you occupy space in creation. You are needed and particular and contribute uniquely. You are that holy vessel, the clei kodesh, holding the divine light, the divine presence in your very body. Like the unity as the drop of water with the ocean, the leaf is with the tree. You are part of that original light of the divine.

Look carefully at the candle flame, squint softly. Almost close your eyes. Notice whether the light is pointing somewhere. Where is it pointing? When you are ready, open your eyes and return to the room.

After we read Torah, as the introduction to mourner’s Kaddish, I reminded people that my favorite Chanukah song is “Light one candle,” by Peter, Paul and Merry. “What is the memory that’s valued so highly that we keep alive in that flame. What’ s the commitment to those who have died that we cry out they’ve not died in vain.” That became our kavanah.

Light. The power of light. The joy of light. The joy of being in sacred space and sacred time.

[1] Frankel, Sacred Therapy, Jewish Spiritual Teachings on Emotional Healing and Inner Wholeness, Shambhla, Boston, MA, 2005, page 43