When the moon turns dark and the sun turns dark, we light a growing blaze of candles: Chanukah.
When the world turns dark because a great government is threatening our freedom, our autonomy, our community — or a great corporation is threatening our jobs or poisoning our earth and air and water — we light a growing blaze of candles: Chanukah.
When our lives turn dark because we have lost someone beloved, or lost a loving relationship, or lost our sense of purpose in the world — when we have no hope of changing, we light an ever-increasing blaze of candles: Chanukah.
When our sense of hope and change darkens, we think ourselves helpless; but then as we light the candles we remember the Maccabees who tackled a power much greater than their own.
So on each of the eight nights, as we light the candles, we speak aloud our intention, our kavanah, the commitment we are making to ourselves and each other, to create light in the midst of darkness, hope in the midst of depression and despair:
What follows are meditations for each night of Chanukah, to stir our hearts and renew our strength:
Each night, before lighting the shammas with which all the other candles will be lit, sit quietly in the dark, focus especially on the spot of darkness that is at the heart of the candle-flame and say:
In darkness, be light! And in your light preserve a spark of darkness, a spark of the mystery from which light grows.
Then light the shammas, and before saying the blessings over the first candle on the first night, the second and first on the second night, the third and second and first, etc., say the following (one each evening, as shown):
1. For sun, moon and earth, for the spirals of their dark and light, for cold and heat, for summer and winter, for seedtime and harvest, for day and night, for the One whose covenant entwines all spirals — I light one light.
I pledge one evening-time each week throughout the year to set aside the 18 minutes of this candle to learn and teach what keeps the earth alive.
(After lighting, work out with the other members of your household on which night each week you will set aside some time to study how to heal the earth.)
2. For oil of olives, always growing, for the trees that give us light and warmth, I will write one letter to demand that ancient forests not be plundered.
(After lighting, set aside time to write this letter. Write to a major corporation — perhaps Maxxam of Houston, owner of the last remaining privately owned stand of ancient redwoods; or write to Vice President Al Gore.)
3. (Use this kavanah for the evening just before the Shabbat of Chanukah.) For the sake of rest, return, reflection, restoration, I pledge to seek a Shabbat for the earth, a time when we will turn to see and celebrate our work but will not make, invent, do or act and will instead praise all perfection.
(Set aside a time to talk with your rabbi or another community leader about sponsoring a neighborhood festival to celebrate the earth, with free music, crafts, cooking, etc. with streets, etc., closed to traffic and businesses shut down.)
4. For the sake of balancing the cold and heat that keep our earth in balance, for warding off the warming of our planet that could bring drought and flood upon all peoples, I pledge to set aside one day each month when I will use no gasoline.
(Work out together how to set aside one day for walking or biking so as to relieve the air of carbon dioxide from automobiles. Could this be one day a week?)
5. For the sake of the weak who are trampled underfoot by elephantine power, for the many forms of life that vanish every week from off our planet, I pledge to join with Noah and Na’amah to affirm God’s covenant with all that lives and breathes — to save each species from extinction by making all of Earth an Ark of comfort. (Write a letter to the synagogue board urging its members to invite a speaker on the Preservation of Species Act.)
6. For the sake of Holy Temple, the microcosm of our holy cosmos, affirming that the earth is not for burning, and that our planet is not for desecration, I pledge to be a Maccabee of strength against all idols that would distract me from the Holy Source. I pledge to pool my method of transportation with another household that is coming to this Temple. (After lighting the candles, take time to call a friend or neighbor and begin to plan a car pool for Friday evenings at your synagogue, chavurah or temple.)
7. For light, and for the sake of stored reserves of life that give us light, for the body electric of the earth, I pledge to seek out bulbs of light that draw less energy from hidden places in the earth. (After lighting the candles, take some time together to plan how to find and buy low-energy electric bulbs.)
8. For sun, moon and earth, for the spirals of their dark and light, for cold and heat, for summer and winter, for seedtime and harvest, for day and night, for the One whose covenant entwines all spirals — I light all lights.