When I was young, I asked my father why Chanukah was such a big deal. I'd learned somewhere that the presents were mainly so we wouldn't feel bad about Xmas, which left us with a lot of candles, and fried potato latkes with applesauce. Although we got some chocolate coins from Sunday School, we never played dreidel. I'm not sure why, but most likely because there wasn't a spinning surface available in our flat. The rooms and halls were carpeted, the bathrooms were tiny and the kitchen floor was tiled (which messed up the spin). O, and the dining-table was for dining. And homework.
Along with the historical and religious origins of the festival, my lovely father explained to me that most religions, and a lot of pre-religious cultures, had rituals at this time of year in the northern hemisphere. People were sad and scared because it was dark. They wanted the sun to come back, and tried to encourage this by lighting lights. I thought it sounded a bit primitive. He pointed out that it works. Every year.
Tonight we lit the last of the lights for this year. 2020 is almost done (although, of course, 5781 isn't even half-way yet), and there has been a lot of darkness all over the world during this period. We are scared, and sad, and very very tired. We hope the sun will return. Whether it reappears in the sky or not, each of us still has a Divine spark within, and surely that can and must be a source of light for ourselves and each other, every day we walk through this world.
Chag urim sameach - Happy Festival of Lights.
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