Let your light shine

By Rabbi Adam F. Miller

One of my teachers, Rabbi Larry Kushner, shares the story of receiving a pulpit in the Boston area, where he moved with his wife into their new home. Coincidentally, the home was built the same year in which he was born. For that reason, upkeep of the home took on special significance.

For more than a quarter of a century, they lived in that same house. Like most couples, Rabbi Kushner and his wife kept a list of future improvements they wanted to make on the home. Ideas for renovations and redecorating would come and go from the list. Completed tasks would be checked off. New projects would be added, and others crossed off as their personal tastes and needs evolved.

One item always remained near the bottom of the list, the dining room chandelier. To be honest, the chandelier was not broken, nor was it completely hideous. It was just not what they wanted. Still, it was not a high priority. So, while the floors were varnished, walls painted, the roof repaired and new furniture purchased, the chandelier always remained the same.

The chandelier became a talking point among the Kushner’s friends and family when visiting the Kushner home. They all knew that, no matter how much ribbing took place, the chandelier was never going to change.

This continued for many years, until one day Rabbi Kushner’s parents came to visit. Upon entering the house, Rabbi Kushner’s father reached into his luggage and pulled out a large hammer. Curious, the rabbi asked the obvious, “Dad, why do you have that hammer?” “Because,” his father replied, “I am going to go and break that chandelier that you don’t like. It’s the only way that you are ever going to do anything about it.”

Seeing the determination in his father, and understanding the message, Rabbi Kushner agreed that the hammer would not be necessary. Using a stepladder instead, they took down the chandelier leaving only bare bulbs. That visual did motivate change, resulting in the purchase of a new fixture the very next day.

This month, we celebrate the holiday of Chanukah. At the heart of the rituals we use at Chanukah is the Chanukiah or Chanukah Menorah. That nine-branched candelabra is a beautiful symbol for us at this time of the year with the least amount of sunlight. Creating more and more light each night to push back the darkness and demonstrate that we always have hope even at our darkest hour. We need Chanukah this year more than ever — to bring us joy and light at a time when the shadow cast by the COVID-19 pandemic remains around us.

Recognizing the power of adding light, let us add light beyond those we kindle at Chanukah. Like Rabbi Kushner, we all have chandeliers on our to-do lists in life — things whose existence we acknowledge, yet never do anything to change. Over the last year, with our lives disrupted and our usual escapes unavailable, those lists may have grown. Spending more time at home, perhaps we took notice of projects that we ignored, or areas of ourselves that we wish to improve. Let’s celebrate our festival of lights this year by finding those things that we dislike and taking them down. Let a new light shine in place of your old chandelier. Let hope fill your heart.

Gam zeh ya’avor — this too shall pass. And, when it does, may our world be filled with more light, laughter and joy because of us.

Rabbi Miller serves at Temple Shalom.