Chanukah 5770/2009 - Jewish Infertility

SHAAREI TIKVAH/ CHANUKAH 2009
25
It tells us that although when the dreidel falls we may only
see one side, nevertheless, there are more victories than
meet the eye.
sanctity of Jerusalem. Bribes were offered for the position
of High Priesthood. Yet we still celebrate. Why?
Why would the sages have future generations commemorate
an event that has so many ends left untied?
Yaffa Eliach in “Chassidic Tales of the Holocaust,” relates
the following story. During World War Two, from the shadows
of destitution, a small light emerged. In the freezing
air of Bergen-Belsen, a small group of prisoners gathered
around the Bulzhever Rebbe. With a shoe clog as a menorah,
the poor souls stood in the valley of death, assembled
to see their beloved Rebbe about to perform the mitzvah
of lighting. The lookout shuffled nervously as the Rebbe
swayed with a small fire in hand. He began to recite the
blessings. “Blessed art Thou, Creator of the Universe, Who
has commanded us to light the Chanukah candles.” The
Rebbe recited the second blessing and then stopped. He
looked toward two other Rabbis who stood not far from
the piles of Jewish corpses and pursed his lips pensively.
Noticing the group of bewildered yet faithful Jews who
were eagerly anticipating the lighting, he continued with
the final blessing.
“Blessed art Though, Creator of the Universe, Who has
kept us and sustained us, and brought us to this day.”
After the lighting, one of the leaders of the Warsaw
Bund approached the Bluzhever Rebbe, Rabbi Spira.
“Spira,” the man said scornfully, “I understand that you
felt compelled to light the menorah – even here at Bergen-
Belsen. I even understand the first two blessings. But how
in Heavens name can you praise the L-rd for “keeping us
alive to this day?”
“The truth is, you are right,” answered the Rebbe.
“When I recited the third blessing, I actually hesitated and
asked myself that question. I turned my head to ask the
other Rabbis standing near me if I should recite it, and then
I noticed something remarkable.”
“Despite the death and destruction wreaking havoc on
every fiber of our existence, there was still a throng of Jews
waiting enthusiastically to perform the mitzvah. It is for
that sight that I bless Hashem for sustaining me until this
day.”
Chanukah is encapsulated in that incident. The small
amount of pure oil found in the Holy Temple was only a
meagre manifestation of our victory, yet its significance
transcends quantity. Chanukah, set in the dead of winter,
when the night is the longest and the sun shines least, gives
us the inspiration to go on.
It tells us that we may only see a small part of the victory
to come, but we must revel even in its tiniest part. It tells
us that although when the dreidel falls we may only see one
side, nevertheless, there are more victories than meet the
eye.
If we celebrate the drops of oil that can last only a fleeting
moment, one day we will celebrate the glow of the Ner
Tamid (Eternal Light) in the Beis Hamikdash (Holy Temple).