The peacemakers' time

Tonight marks the first night of Hanukkah, the eight-day commemoration of the successful conclusion of the Jewish revolt against the Seleucids in 165 BCE. The revolt was led by Judah, known as Judah Maccabee, “Judah the Hammer”, a brilliant military leader who employed the kinds of tactics we’re seeing the Ukrainian defense forces deploy against the invading Russians, of whom it is said that at the beginning of last year that they were the second best army in the world, and now they’re the second best in Ukraine.

This year, of course, we have another kinetic war, right in the home of the Maccabees, between Israel and Hamas, with a whole lot of destruction and death. More than either the Maccabees or Seleucids could have imagined. Yay, eh?

Victory against the Seleucids included rededicating the Temple in Jerusalem, which had been desecrated under the occupation forces. In order to perform the cleansing ritual, the Jews needed to burn pure, unadulterated olive oil in the Temple’s menorah every night. After all the turmoil of revolution, there was only enough of the kosher oil to last a single night, and it would take much longer than a day to lay in a supply to fulfill this requirement.

However, the lamp was lighted and the oil lasted for eight nights, until new oil could be brought in. Hanukkah is the celebration of this event, combining triumph at the overthrow of tyranny with joy at the miracle of the oil. Eight nights of light in the temple, eight candles (and the shamash, the servant candle that lights all the others) on the hanukkiyah. It’s one of those holidays that rejoices at the triumph of light over darkness (freedom over oppression, good over evil), and I don’t think we can have too many of these.

This year I think the symbolism of Hanukkah, and especially the miracle of the lamps, is more important than perhaps any time in the past 80 years. Especially in the land of the Maccabees, the Israelis and the Palestinians. The world needs to believe that there will be light in the darkness, hope amid the horrors and good that rises above evil.

TBH, the people of the world also need to do a better job of ensuring that the light breaks through the darkness. 

My song for Hanukkah this year was written by Peter Yarrow, of Peter, Paul & Mary, in 1983 against the backdrop of the war in Lebanon. It seems particularly apt now. The folk group performs "Light One Candle" at their 1988 holiday concert. The visuals are as strong as the music.