How many times over the past 13 months have we asked: “How much more?” How much more do we have to cry? How much more do we have to lose? How much more will we have to go through before Moshiach comes—before war ends, before pain ends, before suffering and loss and grief end?
And how many times have we asked ourselves, “What more can I do?” The answer is rooted in the Chanukah story.
Although Chanukah celebrates two profound miracles—the victory of the small Hasmonean rebellion against the mighty Assyrian army, and a small jug of oil lasting eight days—it’s the latter miracle that gets most of the attention. Why? Because the miracle of oil provides an eternal message for all generations: We fight darkness with light.
According to the accepted Jewish custom, we begin the first night of Chanukah by lighting just one candle, and each night we add another, until all eight are lit on the final night. Because though a little light might push away much darkness, the world often shows us that a little light isn’t enough. So we shine more. And we shine more. And we don’t stop until the night itself has been entirely lit up.
This is the strength of the Jewish spirit: to fight darkness with light. Here are some ways you can do that.
Every mitzvah we do has a profound and global effect. Maimonides instructs us to view the entire world as a perfectly balanced scale, with the very next good deed—the next mitzvah, kind word, prayer or word of Torah study—capable of tipping the scales and bringing salvation to the world.
This is the first way we respond to tragedy—by committing to more mitzvot, to bring light and redemption to the world. If you’re looking for inspiration, here are some suggestions:
- Give more charity. The Talmud teaches that tzedakah (charity) brings the Redemption closer. Even giving a single coin to charity hastens the Redemption.
- Men over 13: put on tefillin. In addition to being a mitzvah, tefillin have the powerful effect of acting as protection for the Jewish people. See how to put on Tefillin here.
- Place mezuzahs on your doors. Put a mezuzah on your front door. Already have one? Put one on your office door, or other doors in your house. Already did? Get them checked by a certified scribe to ensure they’re still kosher.
- Say Shema. Shema—the most essential Jewish prayer—is a declaration that no matter where we are, G-d is One. Learn more about Shema here.
- Women: light Shabbat candles. It was in the merit of righteous women that our ancestors were redeemed from Egypt, and it will be in the merit of righteous women that we will be redeemed from our current exile.
We all know the story of Noah: G-d flooded the world and Noah was saved by building the ark. This story may have happened several thousand years ago, but it remains eternally relevant. When the world around us feels like a flood—overwhelming, chaotic, deadly—we have the power to step into a spiritual ark by saying a short prayer, studying some Torah, and contemplating our Divine purpose. When we’re done, we’re able to step out of the ark and see a path through what once looked like a flood. This is an essential element for fighting darkness—dedicating time to prayer and Torah study so we can find the strength to outshine the night.
As you think of ways to fight darkness with light, remember that they don’t just have to be self-focused. Help someone else put on tefillin. Give others Shabbat candles. Invite a guest to a Shabbat meal. Learn a Torah concept with a friend. Share an inspiring thought with your network. There are no minimum requirements to be ready to share your light with the world. As the Rebbe famously taught, if all you know is the Hebrew letter Aleph, teach Aleph.
It’s Passover, and the city of Jerusalem is crippled with fear. The Assyrian king Sennacherib is camped right outside the gates, with an undefeatable army that has crushed everything and everyone in its path. All the military advisors agree: Jerusalem stands no chance.
And in the midst of all this terror, the prophet Isaiah approaches King Hezekiah with a message: Don’t worry about it. G-d will take care of Sennacherib.
And Hezekiah believes. Instead of worrying, he goes to sleep—and sleeps soundly and peacefully, completely confident in his trust of G-d. In the morning, Hezekiah awakes to find Sennacherib and his army gone.
The Rebbe shared that it was in the merit of this complete trust that Hezekiah was saved—and that when we trust in G-d with that same complete trust, G-d has no choice, so to speak, but to see our trust fulfilled.
Torah enjoins us to beseech G-d for our needs. And if that applies to personal physical needs, the Rebbe taught, it definitely applies to the needs of the entire Jewish people. In the face of tragedy, we are not meant to shrug our shoulders and say, “Life sucks.” We are meant to challenge G-d and demand change. How many more must we lose? How much longer must we remain in Exile? How much longer must we suffer?
To echo our Patriarch Abraham: “Will the judge of the world not act justly?” There is a story—a beautiful story—of a Jewish innkeeper who, every year before Yom Kippur, would recount all the times he let G-d down, all the times G-d didn’t adequately protect the Jewish people, and rip up both debt sheets, proclaiming, “All is forgiven!”
In the face of tragedy, we do not rip up G-d’s debt sheets. We do not let our Creator off the hook. Instead, we demand that he bring Moshiach immediately—for we know that only with Moshiach’s arrival and the Final Redemption will tragedy truly end.
