Hanukkah and the Magic of Miracles
“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” — Albert Einstein
At least 15 people were murdered in the Bondi Beach, Australia, terrorist attack targeting a Hanukkah celebration on December 14. We mourn the unthinkable loss of life. We mourn an attack against our Jewish brothers and sisters amid rising global antisemitism. And we mourn the assault against Hanukkah – a holiday that has become one of Judaism’s most celebrated, joyous, and recognizable holidays.
This tragedy, among other emotions, might raise one of the classic questions of modern Jewish times: Why do we care so deeply about Hanukkah, anyway? A cynic might point to its proximity to Christmas or the appeal of eight nights of gifts. But I am no such cynic!
I believe our celebration of Hanukkah endures and thrives because it taps into something primal — a deep human need to believe in miracles.
The Jewish relationship with miracles is complicated. The Torah is full of them, from the 10 plagues to the splitting of the Red Sea. And yet, as soon as miracles appear in our tradition, we often shift the discussion to tangible human responses. The plagues were miraculous, but we emphasize the suffering they caused. The splitting of the sea was a literal divine display of power, yet we lift up Nachshon, the man who was the first to step into the sea, for taking that first step. Again and again, we temper wonder with realism.
Hanukkah could easily follow this same path. The Maccabean story is messy, and there is historical evidence that the holiday lasted eight days because the Maccabees could only celebrate Sukkot once the war was over. But Hanukkah captivates our hearts not because of its battlefield victory but rather, its celebration of miracles. Hanukkah may exist because of the heroics of the Maccabees, but is cherished because of the oil that lasted eight days.
As a Hillel professional, I’ve come to see how much perspective matters. Our work is demanding. On any given day, we are educators, mentors, program-planners, marketers, fundraisers, custodians, and about 15 other jobs not included in the job description. And during hard weeks like this one, we become community huggers and consolers. We act as liaisons with police and security. We jump head over heels into the paradox of dealing with our own mourning and fears, while inspiring our communities to remain proudly and joyfully Jewish.
On Hanukkah, we are commanded to publicize the miracle of the oil. At Hillel, we do this by literally lighting our hanukkiot in public spaces, and figuratively, with our dedication to adding more light into the world.
We fill bellies, educate minds, and nourish souls. We help students build community, find belonging, develop purpose, be their whole selves, and grow into the Jewish adults and leaders they want to become. That is miraculous. Every Jewish professional has faced their share of battles and lumps, especially these past few years, and I celebrate you for your everyday victories. But I cherish you for not ever letting the light go out.
So this Hanukkah, as we focus once again on miracles, I think about my Hillel colleagues and say to you: you are miracle workers who change the lives of hundreds of thousands of students each year. May this Hanukkah remind you of the magic you create every single day.
Matt Baram is the Ellie & Mark Lainer Executive Director at Hillel 818.