Kindling Hidden Light
The Divine Spark of Chanukkah
Christians have their Christmas tree. Our tree is the tree of life—the Torah.
Decorating our tree isn’t about ornaments; it’s about chiddushei Torah, fresh insights into ancient teachings. As the verse says: “This is my God, and I will adorn Him.” We adorn God by engaging creatively with Torah, giving new life to its timeless words.
This creative reading isn’t just an intellectual exercise. It’s our way of uncovering the or haganuz, the hidden light. After creating the world, God concealed this primordial light, hiding it within the Torah. Usually, accessing it requires effort—study, thought, and interpretation. But not on Chanukkah.
Chanukkah is unique. It brings the or haganuz into the open, making it visible in the physical world. This is the light that miraculously kept the ner tamid—the eternal flame—burning for eight days. Eight, the number of transcendence, represents moving beyond the natural order. The or haganuz is no ordinary light—it’s the light of God, revealed in deepest darkness.
Lighting the Chanukiah isn’t just about remembering miracles; it’s about expressing our agency and role as partners with God. While God created the world and its light, God left space for us to contribute. The act of lighting the menorah symbolizes our unique ability to reveal the divine light hidden within us. As Proverbs says, “The soul of man is the lamp of God.” When we light the Chanukiah, we ignite the divine spark within ourselves and share it with the world.
Consider the story of Jacob. The Talmud tells us he went back across a river (endangering himself) to retrieve a small canister of oil he had left behind. Why? Surely, such a trivial item wasn’t worth the effort. But this wasn’t ordinary oil—it held the or haganuz. Think of it like a pebble of plutonium: small, but capable of tremendous power.
The or haganuz was concealed so it could be uncovered through human effort and merit. Lighting the Chanukiah is an act of uncovering—it transforms us from passive recipients of divine light to active participants in revealing it. Chanukkah offers us a glimpse of what it means to be co-creators with God.
Most of the time, we must work through Torah to catch even a glimpse of this hidden light. On Chanukkah, though, it reveals itself freely, so long as we dare to light. The light of the menorah becomes a powerful reminder: God doesn’t just want light—He wants our light.
Chag Sameach,
Zohar