This is the season of short days and long nights. Chanukah arrives precisely at this moment, imploring us to bring more light into the world.
That exhortation feels almost unbearable this year. In Sydney, sixteen people were murdered at a public Chanukah celebration on Bondi Beach. One victim was a child, another was a Holocaust survivor who died shielding his wife from bullets.
In the midst of that horror, a Muslim named Ahmed al Ahmed tackled one of the gunmen. Ahmed himself was shot multiple times saving lives. His was a courageous type of wisdom, seeing his neighbors as worth protecting.
And beyond attacks on Jews, our world reels with violence: two students were killed at Brown University this weekend during final exams, a gunman still at large at the time of this posting.
We are tempted to scroll past headlines to absorb only darkness.
Into this darkness comes this week’s Torah portion, Miketz, which often coincides with Chanukah. Miketz contains Torah's first use of the word chacham—"wise one." Pharaoh marvels at Joseph, declaring, "No one is as wise as you!" (Genesis 41:39). What made Joseph wise? He was able to see things that others missed or passed by.
For instance, Joseph could see his brothers for who they really were even when they could not recognize him. He transformed dark and nightmarish images of dreams into sources of light and understanding. Joseph's wisdom lay in his ability to see what others could not and to bring light to places of darkness.
Just last week, we received a devastating lesson about that kind of wisdom – the wisdom it takes courage to express and that comes from seeing things that others miss or simply pass by.
Video was released showing six Israeli hostages — Ori Danino, Carmel Gat, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, Alex Lobanav, Almog Sarusi, and Eden — lighting Chanukah candles in a Hamas tunnel in December 2023. They had been held captive for eighty days. They fashioned a menorah from disposable cups. They sang blessings and Maoz Tzur.
In that darkness — literal, psychological, and absolute — they brought light. Like Joseph in his prison cell, they saw meaning where others might see only despair. They found resilience where others might feel only fatigue.
As they sang Maoz Tzur together, some of the hostages learned for the first time that the song has multiple stanzas—each commemorating a different attempt to destroy the Jewish people: Egypt, Babylonia, Persia, the Greeks, the Crusades.
When they understood the structure of the song, they said to each other: "They'll have to add another verse." They placed themselves in the arc of Jewish history even as they were living it. Eight months later, all six were murdered by Hamas.
JCHS students learn in Conceptual Physics that it is nearly impossible for the world to be completely dark. Just a tiny speck of light can overcome total darkness. Those six young people (now sometimes called "The Beautiful Six”) understood this. In a tunnel, in captivity, facing death, they lit candles. They sang. They joked about waiting for sufganiyot from Roladin bakery. They saw each other. They remained human. They remained Jewish.
It would be easy this Chanukah to feel overwhelmed by darkness—to scroll past, to look away, to protect ourselves from feeling too much. But Joseph's wisdom calls us to do the opposite: to see what others might miss. To look at the suffering and not turn away. That's what it means to be wise: to shine a light on others and to see them.
May this be a season when each of us has the wisdom to see others authentically, to shine our light on them, and to find the strength to be the light that overcomes darkness.
Chag Urim Sameach - May the Festival Lights Bring Joy
