It’s just over a week since I had the distinct honor of facilitating SCS’s Prisons and Justice Initiative’s (PJI) Mayor’s Office on Returning Citizen Affairs (MORCA) Paralegal Fellows’ Retreat. Tonight, I’m sitting near my hanukkiah* and, as I write, I find myself reflecting on Hanukkah and the retreat in light of one another. I can honestly say that the remarkable fellows on that retreat taught me things that will deepen the way I experience Hanukkah – and so many other things – for the rest of my life.
I am so grateful.
Every night of Hanukkah, many Jewish households light the hanukkiah and place it in our windows, as the tradition requires. On the windowsill, the lights act as:
- symbols of resilience
- offerings of light
- statements of both faith and pride
- a testament to the miracle of Hanukkah
The miracle of Hanukkah is in part a miracle of triumph and redemption in the face of great odds. Hanukkah recalls a time when powerful rulers sought to permanently suppress Jewish traditions, teachings, and practices; to humiliate and frighten Jews into abandoning our sense of peoplehood; and to “choose” full-on assimilation. In sum, to extinguish our light.
But Hanukkah reminds us – with God’s help, the Jewish people didn’t let that happen.
The word “hanukkah” literally means “to dedicate.” On the first Hanukkah, Jews rededicated our holy Temple in Jerusalem after its desecration by a tyrannical ruling class. Every Hanukkah since, Jews are meant to rededicate ourselves to bringing about a future time when the entire world is redeemed from tyrants and oppression. We recommit to the active pursuit of a time when peace, justice, righteousness, and love will reign supreme. We rededicate ourselves to bringing about a time when every single human being is free, secure, resourced, and cherished just as they are, with their full identity and full dignity fully intact. Every Hanukkah we rededicate ourselves to the holy task of bringing about a fully perfected world.
Which brings me to the retreat.
Among the many spiritual gifts I received from the fellows that day (and days since) was the reminder of the importance of not only pursuing a perfected world but of also affirming all the perfect moments in life along the way.
One fellow shared that their confidence in God’s providence came from those moments when they were able to access deep calm amidst what they described as their life’s nearly unbearably chaotic turbulence. Another named as holy the many times in life that they’d discovered patches of solid ground amidst violently shifting sands.
I know I can be so focused on getting to the promised times that I am often unable to see the moments of redemption along the way, to hear the little harmonies amidst life’s cacophony, to
see the many sparks of light amidst life’s darker times.
This Hanukkah, thanks to the fellows, I’ll see things a bit differently. This year, I’ll be rededicating myself to staying open and attuned to catching the holiness that life offers up all around us and within us every day; the holiness of resilience, of calm, of fortitude, of insight, of transformation, of growth, and of contribution. This year, I aspire to cherish the small but significant moments of redemption, even amidst today’s serious social, emotional, political, and environmental challenges. Even as we seek to transform the world into the one we wish to live in.
May the lights of the season guide our hearts and hands towards actualizing that world, bimheriah b’yammeinu – speedily in our days.
And please, consider joining us on a future retreat. You’ll be amazed at how much warmth and light a little rest and reconnection can bring!
*For the record: Menorah simply means candelabra! The eight-candled (plus one) menorah we use for Hanukkah is called a hanukkiah. If you really want to show all you know, call it a “hanukkiah,” but it’s not a problem in the least to call it a menorah! Either works.