A celebration of the last night of Hannukah is taking place tonight at the new home of my darling daughter and son-in-law.
It was supposed to take place at Gunnels Manse on Mad
Bird Hill. But the unpleasant case of shingles I contracted shortly after
Christmas required a change of venue.
I won’t be there out of deference to my four-month-old
grandson and the unborn child that my daughter’s friend, Sam, is carrying. I’m
saddened, of course, but the safety of the children, born and unborn, takes precedence.
Hannukah is a celebration of a miracle. In 164 B.C.,
the militant Maccabees drove out the Syrian occupiers of Israel, who had sacked
and desecrated the Second Temple in Jerusalem. After the Maccabees ousted the
Syrians, the cleansing of the Temple called for a relighting of the Menorah, the
gold candelabrum whose seven branches represented knowledge and creation and
were meant to be kept burning every night.
Oil was in short supply, but the decision was made to
relight the Menorah anyway. Although only enough oil was available for a single
night, the lighted Menorah burned for eight days, by which time a new supply of
oil was secured.
Jews believe the miracle of the lighted Menorah was a
message from God to his chosen people They commemorate the event by celebrating
the eight nights of Hannukah.
A nice story, I think you’d agree. But if it occurred,
was it indeed a miracle? Or was it just a fluke – or a misjudgment about the
amount of oil needed to last eight nights?
I don’t know, and truthfully, I don’t think it makes a
difference. Miracle or fluke, it is a story that sustains belief and gives
comfort and guidance to Jews around the world.
You see, I believe miracles are all around us – whether
sent by a supreme being or by the vagaries of the cosmos. If you look and
listen, you can see them everywhere – in the burgling laugh of a happy
baby, the radiant glow of a pregnant woman, the unexpected triumph of the child
for whom you almost gave up hope. And, yes, in the doctor’s confident
assessment, “We got it all.”
We face difficult and perhaps even tragic days ahead, and
we’re going to need all the miracles we can get to endure them and, ultimately,
to prevail.
On this last day of Hannukah, remember the miracle it
celebrates. And on this first day of a new year, I hope you’ll keep a keen eye out
for the miracles around you.
They are there – if only we take time to see and
recognize them.
Best wishes to you all. I consider friends and family miracles
sent by … well, someone or something. You sustain me and give me hope.
