As the Rabbi of Brisk, and later of the holy city of Yerushalayim, Rav Yehoshua Leib Diskin, known as the Maharil Diskin, zt”l, was known as a fiery gaon in Torah and a man of great chessed. In 1881, after years of fostering needy children and in the face of great suffering and poverty, the Maharil and his family opened an orphanage in the Old City.
When his son, Rav Yitchak Yeruchem assumed leadership of the orphanage, there was a group of young orphan girls there who, for a short period, had been lovingly cared for in Rav Yitzchak and the Rebbetzin’s own home. Rav Yitzchak Yeruchem noticed that every night, one of the young girls would cry after her bath and he asked his wife what the reason might be. “Maybe she is cold?” the Rav suggested. Pausing to consider, the Rebbetzin replied, “I’m not sure. I do wrap her well as soon as she is out of the water.” “Perhaps the soap irritates her eyes?” asked the Rav. “I don’t think so,” replied his wife. “I am very careful not to get soap in her eyes when washing her hair and face…”
That evening, while tucking the children in and saying the Shema with them, Rav Yitzchak Yeruchem sat down next to the girl’s bed. Softly, he asked her, “Dear child, is there something that makes you uncomfortable or upsets you after your bath? Is there something that we can do better?”
With sadness in her eyes, the child assured the Rav that she felt loved and was well taken care of. “And on the contrary!” she said. “The Rebbetzin is so kind and gentle and washes me even better than my mother used to.” With a trembling voice, she continued, “But after taking me out and wrapping me in a towel, my mother would always kiss me on the head… and it is her kiss I miss so much.”
Throughout the special days of Chanukah, much of our attention has been focused on the miraculous events surrounding the pach shemen, the lone flask of pure oil that was found in the Mikdash that burned for eight days and nights. Who is not moved by the powerful, soul-stirring imagery of a tiny bit of oil lighting up the darkness of exile? Our Sages of blessed memory state clearly that this miracle is the core reason and foundation of these wondrous days of hoda’ah and hallel, the celebration of Chag Urim, the Festival of Lights. (Gemara Shabbos, 21b).
Perhaps a bit lost in the shuffle is the other core reason for Chanukah: the brave Maccabean revolt and the astounding military victory of a handful of yeshivah students and kohanim over the mighty Syrian Greeks. While in our liturgy we do mention the “deliverance of the many into the hands of the few,” many commenters have addressed the seeming omission of the miracle of our physical survival, and the strong emphasis on our spiritual victory.
Rav Chaim Shmulevitz, zt”l, Rosh Yeshivas Mir and author of Sichos Mussar develops this question and expounds on the different categories of miracles and the underlying messages they represent. The Maccabean military victory was a miracle of necessity: to ensure our survival in the face of threat and existential harm. The Ribbono shel Olam had a “duty” to save us from physical annihilation. However, the nes pach shemen, the miracle of the oil, is of a completely different nature. The menorah had not been lit in the Bais HaMikdash for quite some time, and halacha explicitly states that טומאה הותרה בציבור, impure oil would have been acceptable to be used under those circumstances. Any oil would have fulfilled the requirements, and our reconsecration of the Temple would have still been cause for celebration. Therefore, beyond ensuring our basic need or survival, the miracle of our finding the shemen zayit zach, the pure olive oil that lasted eight days and eight nights was like a kiss from our loving Father in Heaven, an expression of deep love and connection beyond all concepts of “duty.”
Rav Shmuel Silber, shlit”a, the inspiring Mara d’Asra of Yeshivas Toras Chaim of Suburban Baltimore, extends this concept further, and draws out a powerful message relevant to our current parshios:
When Yosef is betrayed by his brothers and eventually sold to a caravan of Ishmaelites, the Torah points out with seemingly extraneous detail who these merchants were: “…a caravan of Yishmaelim coming from Gilead, their camels bearing gum, balm, and laudanum to be taken down to Egypt (Bereishis, 37:25).
Rashi explains the lesson in detailing the merchandise: להודיע מתן שכרן של צדיקים, “To teach us the reward of the righteous.” Generally, these types of caravans carried naphtha and tar, which were foul-smelling. Through his hashgacha pratis, a small miracle was arranged by Hashem for the benefit of Yosef, so he would not suffer additional distress from the noxious fumes.
Rav Zeidel Epstein, zt”l, the sagacious Mashgiach Ruchani of Torah Ohr, pointed out that while Yosef was made to suffer terribly, and being surrounded by sweet-smelling herbs and spices certainly did not make everything all “better,” the fragrance was an expression of Divine love, akin to a “kiss” from Hashem, a sign to Yosef that he was not alone in his trouble.
The first three letters of the name of Chanukah’s holy protagonist, Matisyahu Kohen Gadol, מתת, mean “gift”. The second half of his name is formed by three letters that spell one of Hashem’s name: yud, hey, vav. Therefore, explains Rebbe Tzvi Elimelech of Dinov, known as the Bnei Yissaschar, even the name of Matisyahu was a sign to us: “a gift from Hashem.”
May Chanukah draw to a close with a resounding and miraculous military victory and revealed good. May we be blessed to receive a great gift of salvation from the Ribbono Shel Olam… a gift sealed with a kiss.
Rav Judah Mischel is executive director of Camp HASC, the Hebrew Academy for Special Children. He is the mashpia of OU-NCSY, founder of Tzama Nafshi, and the author of “Baderech: Along the Path of Teshuva.” Rav Judah lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with his wife, Ora, and their family
