How does a small, delicate object remain intact under a home that has been desecrated and burned? How does a weaker force overcome a monstrous, stronger one? How does oil, expected to last only one day, burn for eight?
Instances where reality is defied, where the laws of nature are suspended, are what we call miracles. Jewish tradition is rich with such wonders. Some may argue that miracles befall the Jewish people because they are ‘chosen,’ but Jewish tradition teaches that miracles are not mere divine magic.
They emerge from a symbiotic relationship in a promise made between God and His people, detailed in the covenant. Thus, miracles, much like the aspiration of dreams, are products of human will or action that translate into what we believe is a manifestation of divine power.
Last week, I had an intimate experience with one such miracle. At the Hanukkah celebration in Washington, Israeli Ambassador to the US Michael Herzog shared that the hanukkiah we were about to ceremoniously light was found under the rubble of a destroyed home in Kibbutz Be’eri, which was taken over by Hamas terrorists on the dark day of October 7.
This geometric and transparent hanukkiah – beautiful in its aesthetic simplicity – embodies the complex journey and straightforward message of the Jewish people. Against all odds, the Jewish people survive and still bear the ability to hold and deliver light to the world.
The Festival of Lights, however, begins in a much darker place. In 167 BCE, Antiochus IV Epiphanes outlawed Judaism, not only forbidding Jewish practice but forcing Jews in the Seleucid Empire to breach Jewish law.
Historians debate the ruler’s motives until this day. One may argue that Antiochus was launching an attempt to Hellenize his subjects, but in following historical trends of anti-Jewish persecution, it is evident that such hatred was likely used as a means of uniting a disintegrating empire composed of Greeks, Arameans, Phoenicians, Arabs, and other Semitic groups. The king – attempting to unite a diverse, fragmented populace – needed a common enemy to consolidate his power.
US College Students suffering from mental health crisis
Many of today’s American college students personify the disintegration and identity crisis of Antiochus’s empire. The mental health crisis in America is steep, with depression, suicide rates, and obesity at all-time highs. Indeed, 90% of Americans believe that our country is experiencing such a crisis.
The COVID-19 pandemic is cited as the fuel to this fire. However, a 2015 study by the University of Phoenix reported that 37% of teenagers had difficulty discovering their identity, and 95% felt inferior to others. Resulting symptoms include the questioning of core values, anxiety, and depersonalization, amounting to a figurative disintegration of a human being.
Amid an identity crisis, individuals often cope by seeking a cause that gives them a sense of purpose – a purpose that helps define who they are. While passion-seeking and self-discovery are positive and even encouraged methods of therapy, many modern movements are steeped in a culture of victimhood and virtue-signaling. The combination of victimhood and virtue has proven both appealing and toxic, especially to young minds.
Platformed by modern manifestations of Critical Theory like Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives, movements like Students for Justice in Palestine have built a platform around the premise of victimhood and monopolized virtue.
Virtue has been subverted: Virtue is to abide by anti-normalization rather than engage in dialogue; virtue is to see Israel as inherently evil rather than consider all in the family of humanity as equal.
Led by ill-intentioned actors, causes that were once worthy of support have morphed into destructive activism that ultimately harms the very cause they claim to champion. But perhaps most damaging of all, it is the well-meaning individuals – those seeking to discover their identities and make a positive impact – who are the ones who suffer the most.
The principles we engage with closely, notably in daily tasks and work, are those we come to embody. The victim mentality that has consumed many of my college peers seeking to do good may leave them feeling virtuous when helping those victimized while relieving those who are hurt of responsibility. It is certainly virtuous to help victims, but it is sinful to absolve them of their agency.
Refusing dialogue, shouting from a megaphone, harming fellow students to force change, or demanding apologies from so-called oppressors are unlikely to bring about any meaningful progress. The only result is frustration and the belief that continuing to scream in distress is the path forward. If applied to the self, one is only destined for further mental ailments as the person’s notion of progress is built on destructive means.
The story of Hanukkah and the broader history of the Jewish people offers a crucial lesson for the world – particularly the new generation: the importance of personal responsibility over victimhood.
While the Jewish people have endured some of the most tragic episodes in history, we refuse to see ourselves as perpetual victims. Indeed, the term “genocide” was coined in the aftermath of the Holocaust, a calamity so unspeakable that no word existed for it before. Yet, despite such atrocities – along with those attempted before and since, like the events of October 7 – we have never allowed ourselves to be steeped in a victim mentality.
Instead, experiences of victimhood and a most tragic, intimate familiarity with mortality have only strengthened us. The people of Israel understand that true virtue is not about virtue-signaling or chasing instant gratification but about a concrete commitment to searching for values and using them for our productivity; these values align individual purpose with the collective good.
This requires a strong connection to family, where open debate is encouraged and where one learns, through these debates, how to be a discerning judge.
This mirrors the Chabad philosophy of chochmah, binah, and da’at – wisdom, understanding, and knowledge – which combines the initial spark of interest, personal analysis, and the internalization of ideas to guide our everyday actions.
Such an ethic, when put into practice, transforms into blessings, empowering us to take charge of our fate and to help others constructively with a well-discerned, higher purpose in mind. Such a philosophy can help guide young minds today in all realms of life, spiritually and practically.
Maccabees' success was due to "leap of faith"
The Maccabees’ miraculous triumph over the Greeks was not a result of military prowess but a result of judgment that involved strategic planning and a deep sense of purpose. They took a Kierkegaardian “leap of faith” – a leap made only after thoroughly examining themselves and the risks and rewards of their actions.
It is through such leaps of faith that human efforts invite divine miracles. Trust in ourselves, grounded in purposeful judgment and the courage to act, is the true demonstration of responsibility. It reflects the will to act and constantly strive for knowledge – seeking to understand all there is to know through the integration of diverse sources of wisdom, discernment, and learning from experience. That is meaningful progress.
The nation of Israel has exemplified countless leaps of faith, standing as the epitome of both the social justice movement and the mentally resilient human spirit. Its success, against all odds, serves as a testament to Jewish resolve and responsibility.
We have rebuilt, creating a thriving state that makes the deserts bloom with vitality and spirit. For this reason, God has granted us a celebration of light that lasts eight days rather than just one – light for ourselves and for others, light for today and for generations to come.
The writer is a senior at George Washington University.