2nd century BCE: A tiny vial of oil miraculously
burns for 8 days.
21st century CE: A gigantic bottle of vegetable
oil miraculously disappears into 75 latkes.
I witnessed the modern-day miracle first-hand on Friday as
our apartment slowly filled with the smell of deep-fried potatoes. The fact
that our latkes were fried in an ancient cast iron pan dating back to the days
of my Savta Fanny (as the countless scratches indicate… the result of
repeatedly slicing into Schnitzel while it was still on the stove) only added
to the ceremoniousness of the occasion. 24 hours later, the pan cooled and
stowed and the apartment aired out, friends and family joined us to light the
fourth candle, marking what Erol calls “Hanukah halftime.” It was the first
time that I had hosted three generations of Seeligs in my home, and I must
admit, it felt pretty warm and fuzzy.
I’ve heard the story of Hanukah told many times and from every
possible angle. There’s the version that emphasizes national liberation, the
one about fighting for religious freedom, and of course the version that
celebrates the victory of a few brave Maccabees against overwhelming odds. But
the part of the story that every version seems to include is the bit about the oil:
A tiny vial of oil – barely enough to last for one day – miraculously sustained
the light of the menorah for eight. Every year we light the Hanukiah and
remember this miracle of light. We admire the candles as they accumulate from
one to eight. But here’s the catch: we admire
them, yet we’re not allowed to use them:
‘ואין לנו רשות להשתמש בהם אלא לראותם בלבד’
"We are not permitted to use them, but only to look at them."
Charles Reznikoff wrote a very short poem – just four lines
long – entitled “Hanukah,” which offers a possible explanation for this
puzzling prohibition:
In
a world where each man must be of use
and each thing useful, the rebellious Jews
light not one light but eight—
not to see by but to look at.
and each thing useful, the rebellious Jews
light not one light but eight—
not to see by but to look at.
The “rebelliousness” Reznikoff describes is not that of the
fearless Maccabees; it refers to anti-utilitarian resistance…. In
addition to commemorating the “rededication of the temple” (khanukat beit hamikdash), Hanukah
represents the rededication of
the spirit in an age obsessed with practicality, efficiency and
usefulness. As I lit the candles last night surrounded by family and
friends, I was reminded of just what they
radiate: beauty, warmth and wonder. It may not sound as impressive as
the
miracle of the little-jug-of-oil-that-could, but to me it felt awfully
big.
And guess what? I still got to witness a miracle: all 75
latkes miraculously disappeared…and no, it didn’t
take eight days!
