Chanukah is a holiday of community in which we rededicate ourselves to each other and to the things that are truly important to us. A time in which we honour and acknowledge difficult times we have gone through, but remember that it is through acts of loving kindness that give light to those around us that we are able to transcend those times.
The first time I hosted a Chanukah candle-lighting party at our home, I tried very hard to make it a special event. I prepared traditional Jewish dishes: potato latkes and kosher sufganiyot that I ordered from one of the Israeli bakeries in town. To honour Judith, the Jewish heroine who seduced and killed the leader of Israel’s enemy in the second century B.C.E., I laid out a beautiful selection of wine and cheese reminiscent of what she had brought to him to gain entry to his tent. I bought dreidels and gelt for the children and downloaded a selection of Chanukah music to play.

I did a lot of research about the meaning of the holiday, and chose to read part of a piece from Rabbi Shimon Apisdorf‘s book, Eight Nights of Lights, Eights Gifts for the Soul:

Tonight we light the menorah to remind us of the miracles of Chanukah. We celebrate the miracle of the light of the menorah as it was rekindled by the Maccabees in their victory over the Hellenists. On Chanukah we are reminded of the power of the chanukiah; of its beauty and of its strength and, most of all, its’ light. Before the advent of the light bulb, buildings were illuminated by the natural light of the sun. For this reason, windows were designed to be narrower on the outer side of the wall and wider on the inside. This design served as a type of funnel that captured the rays of the sun and dispersed the light inside the building. Curiously, the windows in the Temple had the opposite design. They were narrow on the inside and wide on the outside. The seemingly backward design of the windows signified that the light from within was to radiate out to the entire world.

The eight nights of Chanukah remind us that we can share our light without diminishing it. A candle is a small thing. But one candle can light another. As a candle gives its’ flame to the other, its’ own light increases. We are such a light. By providing and sustaining light, we are able to transcend moments of darkness. We make God immanent through our actions. But it is up to us to light the wick of the candle of hope. When we do this, we transcend our humanity because we are no longer only our own agents. We are the hands of God. Like the Chanukah candles, we transcend our darkness and become beings that bring light into the world.

The ritual of Chanukah is one of renewal, a time of rededication; a time to go back and pick up the pieces with your people and take another step forward in pursuit of precious dreams at times forgotten. In our times of darkness, whether the darkness of our people’s history, the darkness in the cycle of the natural world, or darkness in our personal lives, we use ritual to light our path forward. Ritual is our spiritual sustenance, filling our lives with meaning and hope as food fills our bellies with nourishment. Ritual is food to the spiritually hungry. Ritual has the potential to heal and warm; to make objects and places sacred; to create community. Ritual physicalizes the spiritual and spiritualizes the physical.

We then recited the blessings together, and I lit the Chanukah candles with my youngest daughter, surrounded by friends and family:

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Chanukah.
Blessed are you, the Force that rules all of existence, who sanctifies us by giving us a way of life directed by righteous counsel and commanded us to light the lights of Chanukah.

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.
Blessed are you, the Force that rules the universe, who made possible miracles for our ancestors, in those days, and also makes the same possible for us in our own times.

It was a beautiful moment, followed by hugs for all and expressions of gratitude for each other.  We spent the rest of the night listening to music, eating, talking and laughing together, in community. It was a night I will never forget.

This year at Chanukah, I learned about Chag haBanot  – the Festival of the Daughters, marked on the seventh night of Chanukah. This festival was celebrated primarily by the Jews of North Africa in honour of heroic women and it cherishes the link between mothers and daughters. I was so grateful to be able to celebrate with such beautiful, heroic and honourable girls as my daughters and expand our Chanukah tradition. I can hardly wait until next year…