For modern America, the holiday of Chanukah is the most widely known, not because of its theological significance, but because of its proximity to Christmas and “the Holiday Season”. The holiday of Chanukah is not really an important holiday in the Jewish religious calendar. Indeed, the events celebrated by the holiday of Chanukah happened long after the biblical period around 165 BCE. Chanukah is a Talmudic holiday. The rites are nowhere mentioned in the bible. They are discussed in today’s Daf and continue for the next several days.
In truth, the Rabbis of the Talmud had an ambivalent relationship with Chanukah. First, they did not like celebrating a military victory, particularly after the Romans crushed a Jewish revolt in the Second Century CE. The Rabbis worried that the celebration of the Maccabees victory would lead to a new revolt with disastrous consequences or would simply encourage the Romans to reimpose harsh restrictions. Second, the Maccabees gave rise to the Hasmonean dynasty in Israel – the arch-enemy in so many ways of Rabbinic Judaism. The Hasmoneans usurped the traditional role of kings and priests and combined them into one person. They then became more and more Greco-Roman in their lifestyle and outlook, thus nullifying much of the original Maccabees fight for political and religious independence. The Hasmoneans, in order to remain in power, invited the Romans to Israel, ultimately leading to the final eradication of Jewish independence and the destruction of the Second Temple. Finally, the Hasmoneans supported the Sadducees, the Talmudic Rabbis arch-rivals for leadership of Jewish religious thought. The Sadducees rejected the entire project of the Mishnah and Gemara and only looked to the written Torah and Bible for authority. You can tell the Rabbis were ambivalent about Chanukah because unlike almost every other Jewish holiday, Chanukah does not get its own Tractate. Instead, it deserves a few pages in Tractate Shabbat.
Today’s Daf begins by continuing our discussion of acceptable and unacceptable fuels and wicks for Shabbat candles. We also continue identification of what plant names in various teachings are in contemporary language. Interestingly, we try to identify a plant called a “Kik“. Some Rabbis think this is the plant that shades Jonah outside of Nineveh in the Book of Jonah. We read the Book of Jonah on Yom Kippur and I always find it a fascinating discussion of obligation, repentance and divine mercy. If you do not know the story of Jonah’s plant, the whole book of Jonah is very short. I recommend you read it.
We also discuss whether we can mix a small amount of valid materials with invalid materials and still make Shabbat lights. This discussion leads to a warning to follow how the Sages acted rather than hypothetical rulings on made up facts. I am reminded of the times I have had to give a deposition in law suits. There is a game where the lawyer taking the deposition asks all kinds of hypotheticals and I respond that I would need to know all the facts and circumstances to give an accurate answer. In the case of a ruling, we can never know all of the exigent circumstances, so we need to see how the Rabbis acted in actual life.
All of this discussion of wicks and oil leads into the discussion of Chanukah, the festival of lights. I do not know who reads this blog (beyond my father and my wife ) (others, please comment or email, I would love to meet you), so I want to give a very basic primer on Chanukah. After Alexander the Great (who we will later learn was greatly admired by the Rabbis of the Talmud) died, he divided his empire amongst his heirs. One portion became the Hellenized kingdom of Syria, referred to as the Selucid Empire. The Selucids, at various times, had hegemony over Israel (they shouldn’t brag, lots of ancient empires did). During the period of Selucid control, the Syrian/Greeks tried to replace the Temple Judaism with their own Greek religion. A family known as the Maccabees rose up in revolt and defeated the Selucids (one miracle). They found the Temple desecrated and wanted to rededicate it. There was only religiously sanctioned oil to last in the Menorah for one night, but they needed more time to get more oil. They went ahead with the re-dedication and the oil lasted eight nights (the second miracle). The Maccabees became the ruling Hasmonean dynasty and ruled Israel (under the dominance of foreign powers) until the Romans destroyed the Second Temple and made Israel a Roman province. To commemorate these miracles, on Chanukah we light a Menorah with eight branches (plus a ninth helper) every night for eight nights.
Our Rabbis want to know if the same rules applicable to Shabbat candles apply to Chanukah candles. Of course, since Chanukah lasts for eight nights, it will extend across at least one Shabbat. What about Chanukah candles on regular weekdays? The far more interesting discussion for me is the Rabbis want to know what we are celebrating on Chanukah. I speculate, with no historical evidence other than the discussion in the Talmud, that there was probably a national secular celebration of miracle one (the defeat of the Selucids) that the Rabbis need to reinterpret to fit into a religious framework. The debate about the proper way to celebrate Chanukah is this act of reinterpretation.
For instance, our friends Hillel and Shammai have a debate about how we progress through the days. Hillel believes we light one candle on the first night of Chanukah, two candles on the second night and continue until we light eight candles on the last night (this is the current majority practice). Shammai held that we light eight on the first night and decrease by one until we only have one light on the last night. Various reasonings are offered for these positions. Hillel’s position is justified that in sacred matters we elevate, not decrease the level of sanctity. Of all the reasons that are given, this one reasonated most with me.
In today’s Daf the discussion of the rules around Chanukah observance (what are the lights made of, where do we place the Menorah, etc.) lead to the Talmud asking, “Why do we celebrate Chanukah at all”? (Very literally). This leads to the re-interpretation of the celebration of the secular miracle one into the celebration of the divine miracle two. However, Chanukah still celebrates a historical event and throughout the discussion we learn fascinating historical details about life in ancient Babylon. For instance, recall to our first discussions in Berakhot. We ask until what time can we say the Shema. Today, we ask until what time can we light the Chanukah candles. The Rabbis hold that we can light the Chanukah candles until the Tarmodians have vanished from the marketplace. The Tarmodians came from the ancient city of Palmyra. They were particularly known for selling kindling wood, so they were the last to leave the market as kindling wood typically was the last purchase of the day.
The placement of the Menorah after its is lit also gives historical clues about Jewish life. The Rabbis want us to publish the miracle (miracle two) of Chanukah, so our Menorahs are supposed to be in public and visible to all. The Rabbis even 1500 years ago knew that publicizing ones Jewishness was not always a good survival strategy. They therefore allow us to place the Menorah on our table and contemplate it in times of danger. My guess is that was the exception that swallowed the rule for many Jews throughout history.
Two final thoughts for the day. First, Purim also celebrates a miraculous rescue from a foreign power. However we celebrate that with eating and drinking, not kindling lights. The Rabbis explain this difference. On Purim, we celebrate victory over a power that wanted to kill all the Jews. This is a physical victory and should be celebrated physically. The Syrian-Greeks did not want to kill the Jews, they wanted to Hellenize the Jews. Thus, Chanukah celebrates a spiritual victory.
Finally, and this really has nothing to do with the narrative, there is a fascinating tidbit of the story about regret. Abaye changed his position late in life on what use we can make of the Chanukah candles after they are lit. He regrets his earlier position. The Talmud then notes that he came to the correct position, so who cares about the earlier ruling? The Talmud answers its own question noting the studies of one’s youth are more enduring. I commend Abaye for his ability to have his position evolve. Very few of us can admit that we were wrong previously. This little snippet (its barely two dozen words) strikes me as regret later in life for the stridency of our youth.