I once heard a speech quoting a conversation someone had with Albert Einstein. The questioner asked him, “If you could meet a person from a previous generation, who would it be?” Einstein, who was Jewish though not religious, answered, “I would like to meet Moses.” He then added, “I would ask him: could you have imagined that thousands of years after you were gone, the Torah you taught the Jewish nation would still be taught and practiced the same way you originally taught it?”
As we approach the holiday of Hanukkah, this idea carries particular weight. It is a festive time, and the atmosphere is unmistakable. You can walk into a grocery store and see Hanukkah candles lined up on the shelves or pass a menorah in the mall and immediately feel the spirit of the season. The joy is real and visible.
But what truly is the essence of Hanukkah? Is it the latkes, the dreidel, the songs, the gatherings? Or is there something deeper that all of these point toward?
Each Jewish holiday highlights a different aspect of our history. On Shavuot, we received the Torah. On Pesach, we celebrate the exodus from Egypt. On Purim, we celebrate physical survival as a people. Hanukkah is different. It does not focus on physical survival. It celebrates spiritual survival. The Greeks did not seek to annihilate the Jewish people. They sought to uproot our spiritual identity. They aimed to stop Torah study and prevent us from performing mitzvot. Their goal was not our bodies but our inner life as a nation.
Through perseverance and courage, the Maccabees fought back and ensured that Torah would not be lost. They defended not land or power but the spiritual core of the Jewish people. Because of their actions, we remained a nation defined by Torah and mitzvot rather than by the culture that threatened to overwhelm us.
Rambam explains that the miracle of the menorah teaches the value of a single mitzvah. If one mitzvah can endure, then the entire Torah can endure. The light of the menorah is not only about oil lasting eight days. It is about the endurance of Jewish spiritual life in the face of attempts to extinguish it.
As we enter the Hanukkah season, with its joy and celebration, it is important to be mindful of what this joy represents. When we eat a latke, spin a dreidel, or light the menorah, we are not performing small seasonal customs. We are reminding ourselves of the miracles that allowed the Jewish nation and its Torah to survive. In a world where challenges to Jewish identity continue to surface, Hanukkah calls us to remember who we come from and the greatness we represent.
Rabbi Aharon Dovid Heisler is executive director of Tucson Torah Center.
