December 11th: Vayeshev and Chanukah
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
The Torah is often referred to as “The Law,” and there is a tendency in our Tradition to focus on singlemindedness in observing The Law. This is certainly a message of the Maccabees, Jewish priests who were so focused on observing the Law that they risked (and, in many cases, lost) their lives fighting against the Syrian Greek Empire. This singlemindedness is supported by any number of Biblical passages, perhaps the most notable of which is in the Shema: “You shall love the Lord your God with ALL your heart, with ALL your soul, and with ALL your might.” (Deuteronomy 6.5) This is not a tentative sentiment, and it is bolstered by the story of Rabbi Akiba’s martyrdom. Sentenced to death for teaching Torah, Akiba was tortured through the night. He prayed throughout the ordeal as though he were impervious to pain. When the Roman general asked if he were a sorcerer, Akiba replied that he was not. However, he explained that he had always been frustrated that he could not follow the mitzvah of loving God with all of his soul—until that moment. He recited the Shema and died happily.
This, by the way, is where we derive the tradition of saying Shema in our last breath.
And yet, despite the fact that devotion is encouraged and admired, our Tradition is not single-minded. The Torah and Talmud are full of a variety of different opinions and sentiments about virtually everything. We have many names for God. We have two Creation stories and three versions of the Ten Commandments. We have lots of different attitudes on sacrificial worship, and, within and beyond the Bible, we have been discussing and debating the practical and spiritual details of our religion for some 3000 years.
One of the most famous Chanukah debates involves how we light the candles in the Menorah. Shammai, the second leading rabbi of the time, held that we should begin with eight candles and then work our way down to a single candle on the eighth night. This is because our excitement for Chanukah is greatest on the first night and then wanes as the festival continues. There is also the logic, as explained by one of our Religious School students, that the amount of the miraculous oil decreases nightly. Hillel, leading rabbi of the time, held that we should begin with one candle and gradually work our way up to eight. His logic? That the miraculousness increases with every passing night. The miracle on the eighth night is demonstrably more miraculous than on the second, fourth, or sixth nights.
It is a manifest mistake to find a Biblical or Talmudic verse and stand on it as though it is the only expression of the Divine Will. Whatever we read in one passage is invariably countered or shaded by another passage, and our job as Jewish servants of the Most High is to join the discussion and debate and apply the many textual views to the realities of life.
A case in point comes in the Haftarah this week. In Zechariah (4.6), we read the famous, “Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit, says the Lord of Hosts.” Set in the middle of a mystical vision, the plain meaning of the verse is difficult to ascertain. Perhaps, Zechariah is insisting that, despite the fact that the second Temple might be much less glorious than the first one (destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE), something should be built. Even if the effort is less than ideal architecturally, it would not be “might” nor “power” that would connect them to God; rather, it would be God’s “spirit” that would make Temple worship holy.
The verse has also been associated with Chanukah’s miracles—both the miracle of the oil AND the miracle of the rag-tag Maccabean army defeating the Greek Syrians. It was not by military might, nor by military power, but by the indomitable spirit of holiness visited upon them by God that the Maccabees were able to succeed.
An interesting divergent interpretation is found in Debbie Friedman’s Not By Might, written in the early 1970s. In her adaptation of Zechariah, she channeled the anti-war sentiments of the folk-music movement and the Reform Movement in Judaism and produced a very popular and often sung anthem:
Not by might and not by power,
But by spirit alone shall we all live in peace.
The children sing; the children dream,
And their tears may fall, but we’ll hear them call,
And another song will rise, another song will rise, another song will rise!
Not by might and not by power,
But by spirit alone shall we all live in peace.
Not by might! Not by power. Shalom!
Such an interpretation does not go against the stream of Jewish attitudes about armed resistance. Indeed, after the Bar Kochba Revolution (in 133 CE, the one where Rabbi Akiba was martyred), the general attitude of Jewish survival taught that armed resistance is futile. The best we can do is just bear the oppression and strive to be true to the spirit of our religious mission. “Not by might and not by power, but by My spirit!” It was only in the 19th Century, with the development of “Jewish Self-Defense,” that some Jews began fighting back.
There is also an interpretation—voiced by a number of commentators—that sees the verse as directed against odds-making and pessimism when it comes to pursuing God’s causes. Though it may seem impossible for us to achieve our task, it is not OUR might nor OUR power but rather God’s spirit and our willingness to be vessels of God that cause us (God!) to prevail.
This certainly is a message of David in Psalm 29. The real power in the world is God’s, and God will give us strength so that we can prevail and eventually find peace.
“Adonai oz l’amo yiten; Adonai y’varech et amo vashalom.
The Lord will give strength to our people; the Lord will bless our people with peace.”