Our Torah portion, Miketz is almost
always read during the week of Chanukah. Is this a coincidence of the calendar
or is there something to learn from this juxtaposition? Rabbi Laura Geller
notes that as Miketz begins, Joseph has spent two years in an Egyptian prison,
which is much like the pit he was thrown into by his brothers years ago before
they sold him into slavery.
But shortly into the portion, things
take a turn for the better. When Pharaoh
needs an interpreter for his dreams, Joseph is remembered suddenly and summoned
from the darkness. Not only does Joseph interpret the dream as a prediction,
but also he tells Pharaoh what to do in response. Pharaoh immediately
recognizes the wisdom of this former
Hebrew slave and appoints Joseph as the second most powerful ruler in Egypt.
What does the Joseph narrative teach us
about Chanukah? Like our portion, Chanukah moves from sadness to joy, from
darkness to light, from bondage to deliverance.
Later in the story, when Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, he
says: “It was not you who sent me here; it was God.” All along, despite the
darkness of exile, Joseph understood he was serving God. Chanukah comes at the
darkest season of the year, and we make the light, one candle at a time.
Rabbi David Hartman asked why Chanukah
is celebrated for eight days rather than seven. Since there was enough oil for
one day, the first day is no miracle. The miracle is that it burned for the
seven remaining days. Therefore Chanukah should be a seven-day holiday. But it
is eight days. So what is the miracle? The miracle is that our ancestors were
willing to light the oil in the first place, even when they couldn’t be sure
that they had enough oil, enough strength, to complete the rededication of the
Temple. The miracle was that they lit that first candle. They, like Joseph,
made light in the face of darkness, confident that the darkness would
eventually end.
In many ways, the past few weeks have
been a dark time. We have witnessed
brutal violence, met with too little political resolve to make things
better. Yet our calling, as Jews, is to
maintain hope, and to work to bring light into the world precisely when it is
darkest. As the poet Theodore Roethke
wrote, “In a dark time, the eye begins to see.”
May Chanukah’s lights inspire us to bring illumination, peace, and
justice to our community and our nation.
