Lighting up Chanukah

Rabbi Ammos Chorny

In an age before electricity, having light at night certainly was no simple matter. While various forms of illumination as well as styles of lamps were in use, their effectiveness was always limited. Simply put, most people went to bed at nightfall and were up by the crack of dawn.

Of course, on Friday night, this was not feasible; and the Talmud dedicates much of the second chapter of mashechet Shabbat detailing which wicks and oils may and may not be used to kindle the Shabbat (and Chanukah) candles. Due to fear that one might adjust a light on Shabbat, our sages forbade the use of wicks to light the sacramental lights unless the flame was clear and would not flicker. Apparently, such lighting was not cheap, as the Talmud (23b) debates such questions as: Which should take priority, Shabbat or Chanukah candles? Wine for kiddush or Chanukah candles? Procuring both was often prohibitive for many.

No wonder the Talmud makes such a big deal of the various forms of the mitzvah of Chanukah lighting, ranging from one candle per household for each of the eight nights of Chanukah, to our practice of increasing lights both for each day and each member of the household. For us, a few extra candles is no big deal; but for the ancients, this was a luxury few could afford. Perhaps this also sheds light on the relatively detailed discussion as to whether one may use Chanukah candles for other purposes.

Interestingly, the debate on the use of Chanukah candles focuses on whether one “may count money” next to the Chanukah candles. Spending money on lighting would have been a big budget item for many. Shmuel, the third-century Babylonian sage, upon hearing the ruling that one may not count money, exclaims, “Does the light on Chanukah candles have holiness?!”

And while the light itself may not have intrinsic holiness, the Talmudic argument nonetheless concludes that to count money next to the candles would be a bizui mitzvah, showing disdain for the mitzvot. Cost-benefit analysis has little place in mitzvah observance.

For those of us affected by Hurricane Ian last month, this all puts matters further into perspective, not only reminding us of our ultimate frailty, but how difficult it is for us to live without electrical lights. Lighting was a difficult challenge before Thomas Edison, and our sages went to great lengths to insist that we have lights on Shabbat and other holidays, equating such lights with shalom bayit, peace in the home. They went so far as to assert that “one who regularly lights candles will have scholars for children” (ibid). And their efforts worked. The lighting of Shabbat (and Chanukah) candles is one of the most widely observed mitzvot, despite the fact that the original impetus for the mitzvah — to ensure a well-lit home — is something we (hopefully) have taken for granted; we actually have managed to imbue our lights with “holiness.”

Your way goes our best wishes for a joyful and bright Chanukah celebration. Chag Urim Sameach! Rabbi Ammos Chorny serves at

Beth Tikvah.