We are all familiar with the famous question of the Bais Yosef. Why do we celebrate Chanukah for eight days? If they found enough oil to use that first day, then the miracle only occurred for the following seven days. We should celebrate Chanukah for seven days?
However, the sefer Shabbos Shel Mi cites the opinion of the Sheiltos. There, he cites an alternate text of the Gemara, which states that there was not enough oil, even for one night. Thus, the first night was a miracle, as well.
According to this version, the Shabbos Shel Mi explains another interesting point. The Gemara explains that they were able to use the flask of oil, and were not concerned that it, too, was defiled by the Greeks, because it was sealed with the stamp of the Kohein Gadol. But has it ever occurred to us to ask why it contained this seal? Why would they have sealed the containers of oil? And why did it contain specifically the seal of the Kohein Gadol?
Based on the text of the Sheiltos, we can suggest an explanation for the origin of this flask. We know that the Kohein Gadol used to bring a korban mincha, known as the minchas chavitin, every single day. This special mincha consisted of flour and oil, which the Kohein Gadol would offer at his own expense. He would seal the jugs containing this oil, to identify it among all the other oils found in the Mikdash.
The Shabbos Shel Mi suggests that the Chasmonaim found one of these flasks, which bore the seal of the Kohein Gadol. Therefore, they knew it was still pure, and they were able to use it for the Menorah.
This explains the amount of oil in the flask, as well. This daily mincha required three log of oil. On the other hand, each ner of the menorah used half a log of oil. Multiply this amount by seven, for the seven neiros, and we have a total of three and a half log used each time they lit the menorah. Thus, if they found a flask of three log prepared for the chavitin, there was not even sufficient oil for the first night.
However, the Shabbos Shel Mi points out a difficulty with this approach. The oil for the menorah must be kasis, one hundred percent pure oil, while the oil for the mincha did not require this high degree of purity. If so, the oil in this flask should have been disqualified for use in the menorah?
We must explain that the Kohein Gadol went beyond the letter of the law, and prepared oil that was kasis for his mincha, as well. This was a hiddur, an act of being especially meticulous with one’s mitzva observance. The Kohein Gadol wanted to use only the superior form of oil for his mitzva.
This explains an extraordinary facet of the mitzva of ner chanuka, which we do not find by any other mitzva. The Gemara describes ascending levels of observance, detailing how exactly one would fulfill the mitzva in its basic form, on a higher level called mehadrin, and even a better way called mehadrin min ha’mehadrin. Why is there such a strong emphasis on beautifying and adding to this particular mitzva?
According to our previous explanation, the answer is clear. The entire neis occurred as the result of the hiddur of the Kohein Gadol. He attempted to fulfill the mitzva to the utmost, not sufficing with the bare minimum. Therefore, we, too, commemorate this neis by upping our standards, and fulfilling the Halacha l’mehadrin, lighting extra candles.
HaRav Yehuda Zev Segal ztz”l, the late Manchester Rosh Yeshiva, was once traveling abroad before Pesach, and he carried with him his shemurah matzos. The airport officials weighed his luggage, and they informed him that the matzos were over the maximum allowance, and he must pay an additional fee. The Rosh Yeshiva paid the fee with a smile, and he explained to those around him that he just merited “an upgrade” on his mitzva. He wanted to eat his own matzos, which were certainly baked with many special hiddurim. Surely, the extra expenses he incurred only added to the value of the mitzva and was therefore a cause for rejoicing.
There are so many opportunities for us to upgrade our mitzvos. Instead of seeing any inconvenience as a burden, we should view them as opportunities to perform even greater mitzvos.
Unfortunately, it is all too common to see people arriving to shul in middle of shachris. They then express their satisfaction that they “made” barchu. What happened to the meritorious practice of saying korbanos, as described by the Shulchan Aruch? How about the speed of their pesukei d’zimra? The poskim write that we are meant to say each word slowly, as if we were counting money. Imagine the difference if we would focus on not just “getting through” the tefilla, but on davening on the highest level possible.
An acquaintance once asked me if he could purchase kosher mezuzos for fifty dollars. I looked at him in astonishment. “Can you find a mezuza for that price? Yes, you can. But you just built a million-dollar house. Where are your priorities? You have a beautiful home, l‘mehadrin. Why wouldn’t you buy mezuzos that are mehadrin, as well?”
However, we must exercise caution when striving to perform mitzvos properly, to ensure that we are applying these hiddurim the right way.
The Chazon Ish would host a minyan for mincha in his home each day, with exactly ten men in attendance. One day, one of the regular attendees was delayed, and the minyan was going to finish a few minutes past the usual time. Rav Shmuel Greineman, the Chazon Ish’s nephew, was also one of the mispalelim, and he was in a quandary. He had scheduled a meeting immediately after davening, and now it seemed he wouldn’t make it. Knowing the minyan depended on him, he assured the Chazon Ish that he would stay to daven and reschedule the meeting.
However, the Chazon Ish would not hear of it. “I will not have my minyan on someone else’s expense. You must be ehrlich, keep your word and attend the meeting.”
This is also an example of hiddur mitzva, but with the wisdom and insight to know how to make one’s priorities. Remaining an ish emes, and honoring one’s word, also deserves to be kept l’mehadrin.
