Learning about Hanukkah when I was growing up, I preferred the story of the Maccabees to that of the miracle of the oil. Celebrating a victory for religious freedom made much more sense to me than an unbelievable marvel. The defeat of the Greeks was portrayed as a story of empowerment and self-determination, representing resilience, courage, and the importance of standing up against oppression. In contrast, the tradition that a container of oil meant to last for one day was able to burn for eight, seemed silly.

As an adult, I discovered that the Maccabees were not the heroes I had envisioned. They were fanatics who readily killed fellow Jews with differing beliefs, viewing their struggle as a fight against Hellenized Jews as much as against their Greek oppressors. Instead of restoring the traditional monarchy and priesthood, they installed their own family members in these roles and established a dynasty, becoming the only rulers in Jewish history to forcibly convert a conquered population.

The Hasmonean (Maccabee) dynasty lasted from approximately 140-37 CE. Centuries later, Talmudic rabbis reframed the meaning of the holiday when they discussed Hanukkah:

What is [the reason for] Hanukkah? and why are lights kindled on Hanukkah? On the twenty-fifth of Kislev, the days of Hanukkah are eight. One may not eulogize on them and one may not fast on them. What is the reason? When the Greeks entered the Sanctuary they defiled all the oils that were in the Sanctuary by touching them. And when the Hasmonean monarchy overcame them and emerged victorious over them, they searched and found only one jar of oil…undisturbed by the Greeks. There was sufficient oil there to light [the menorah] for only one day. A miracle occurred and they lit [the menorah] from it for eight days. The next year the Sages instituted those days and made them holidays with recitation of hallel [psalms of praise] and special thanksgiving in prayer and blessings. – Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 21b

I can’t know if the rabbis believed this story literally, but I do know they were sophisticated thinkers who understood metaphor. For them “the reason for Hanukkah” was not a military victory but the miracle of Jewish survival despite the odds. Having faced oppression from the Roman Empire, they were wary of glorifying warfare and instead emphasized spiritual resistance, choosing the words of the prophet Zechariah, “Not by might [lit:”sword”] and not by power but by My spirit….”; (Zechariah 4:6) to read on the Shabbat of Hanukkah.

Another part of the Talmud teaches, “The sword comes into the world because of the delay of justice and the corruption of justice (Palestinian Talmud, Pirkei Avot 5:8).” In other words, violence is a sign of failure. While the rabbinic tradition acknowledges that it may be necessary in certain situations, bloodshed should always be the last resort.

This Hanukkah, Jews worldwide are grappling with these conflicting legacies of warfare and peacemaking. I despair that too many of us have become like the Maccabees, seeing other Jews as the enemy. I fear that too few of us understand violence as an indication of weakness, not strength. I pray that, in this season of returning light, we may recommit ourselves to the Jewish tradition of seeking peace and pursuing it, in accordance with the core values of our heritage.

Chag sameach / Happy Hanukkah,

Rabbi Drorah Setel