LET’S LIGHT OUR CANDLES THROUGH THE LONELINESS

It is no secret that much of the world can’t wait for 2020 to end. The compounded losses brought to us by the COVID-19 pandemic have penetrated every layer of our existence, and hope and joy have been elusive and fleeting. As we approach the darkest days of the year, we also anticipate holidays of light that we need so badly. We have been searching for miracles all year: an end to the suffering, to be able to embrace one another again, and to gather without concern. This week Jews all over the world will light the eight-branch Hanukkah candelabra to remember and celebrate the unexpected miracles found in the depths of despair. Ask any Jewish child why we celebrate, and he or she will tell you about the miraculous jar of oil found in the Temple desecrated by the Syrian Greeks that should have only lasted for one day but lasted eight days instead.

Incredibly, the Maccabees defeated the Greeks and rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem in 164 BCE, but the first mention of the jar of oil miracle appears some 664 years later. Why was that special tale of the miraculous needed? Perhaps the military miracle was not enough to elicit gratitude, even though a victory of the strong, mighty and corrupt being delivered into the hands of the weak, few and pure of heart was certainly compelling.

But an interesting question posed in the literature asks, what was the miracle of the first night, if the oil was expected to light for at least that long? There was no reason to imagine that anything would have survived the systematic desecration of the Temple. Yet the Maccabees searched and found that one jar. Why did they search? What compelled them in their despair? They must have had faith that from the worst tragedy, something would survive. The miracle of the first night was that of faith itself, the faith that something would enable the people to begin again. The unexpected and desired outcome in a situation that does not warrant such hope is indeed

elements of our lives seem most precious — our shared relationships of family and friendship, and our participation in travel and the holiday activities and traditions that nourish our souls. All too many times we have to say in these weeks: “Wait until next year.”

Most of all, we experience a sense of weariness and an overwhelming desire to return to our normal existence.

The Gospel of Luke says that when Mary and Joseph were experiencing aloneness amidst the birth of their son, God sent angels to them to remind them of the joy of life and love and new birth. And they were immeasurably heartened.

God has sent many angels among us in these days of suffering. The medical staffs and first responders who have sacrificed so much to save lives, to console the bereaved and to present to our nation a new chapter of heroism to inspire us. The workers in vital industries who enter into dangerous jobs because we need to be fed, clothed and cared for. Family members who have exhausted themselves beyond measure for their children, parents and spouses. These and so many more are angels in our midst call us to profound reflection about the deepest meaning of our journey of life on this Earth.

Like Mary and Joseph, we are called to sacrifice and action in this season of Christmas. We are called to wear masks and socially distance as a commitment to the safety of others. We are called to give up many of our most enjoyable experiences for a time, so that lives will be saved and our loved ones protected. And we are called to make these sacrifices in the great hope that the end to this pandemic is dawning with the new vaccines that are the greatest gift to our world for this particular Christmas.

We celebrate at this moment the birth of a little child in a setting of hardship. And we rejoice because that birth is the fullest revelation of God’s unlimited love for every man, woman and child of every faith, race and culture.