Hanukkah 2025: Finding Light, Strength and Solace

Photo Credit: KCWeinstein

Take a moment to breathe in the beauty of this spectacular hechal (ark) at the Knesseth Eliyahoo Synagogue in Mumbai. As many of our synagogues do, it depicts the seven-branched menorah that adorned the original hechal, the outer chamber of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem. Literally a palace for God's presence, hechal is the Sephardic term for the ark (aron kodesh). A Shiviti, a mystical meditative plaque or design titled with the words Shiviti Adonai l'negdi tamid, ("I will set God before me always" from Psalm 16:8) is bound onto the exquisite hechal, between ornate, gilded capitals and below towering stained glass windows.

The words of another psalm, Psalm 67, are shaped into the menorah, based on the tradition that its seven verses (outside of the header) were inscribed on the menorah in the Temple—matching the number of branches in the menorah. The mystics believed that by reading Psalm 67 while gazing on the menorah shape, you could experience (vicariously!) the radiance of the menorah in the Temple, and you would draw down light and blessing. 

When the first Temple was destroyed, the menorah was plundered. A new one was crafted for the second Temple, but plundered again upon the Temple's destruction. The eight-day Hanukkah celebration necessitated a new type of menorah with space for nine lights that we know today as the hanukkiah, commemorating the Maccabees' faith and victory.

My takeaway is this: The soul of our people is embedded in our history, our survival, and even in our architecture, our ritual practices and symbols. In these deeply troubled times, the words of our timeless texts resonate with us as if they were written today. As the hanukkiah reshaped and added to the light of the ancient menorah, we, too, embrace continuity by holding onto our traditions—yet changing as the times demand—finding light, strength and solace amidst the darkness. 

We mourn the victims of the heartbreaking terror attack in Bondi Beach, take hope from the courage of brave bystanders, and pray for the community’s healing.

“What gave me strength was saying Shema Yisrael every morning. Every Friday night, we tried to make Kiddush. We didn't have wine, so we used water. It was the faith that kept us alive.” --Eli Sharabi, former hostage who survived 491 days in Hamas captivity. 

Shiviti and Ner Tamid above the hechal at Maghen David, Calcutta