What Does Hanukkah Really Celebrate?

The small flames of the menorah have lit up Jewish life for centuries. Why has Hanukkah captured the Jewish heart, becoming one of the most beloved Jewish holidays?

To understand, let’s explore three layers: the historical, the spiritual, and the personal.

1. The Historical: A Battle of Cultures

Maimonides writes that the Greeks attempted “to make Israel forget the Torah and violate its laws.” This wasn’t only a military assault. It was an attempt to redefine the Jewish soul.

Greek culture prized beauty, reason, philosophy, and physical perfection. Judaism doesn’t reject those values but it insists they are not ultimate. For the Jewish People, wisdom is holy when it points upward, beauty is meaningful when it reveals God, and strength is noble when it serves goodness. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks once wrote, “To the Greeks what is beautiful is holy; to the Jews, what is holy is beautiful.”

The Greeks weren’t trying to destroy Jews physically; they were trying to reshape Jews spiritually. The Maccabees initially fought for their national identity. Hanukkah is therefore not only a holiday of military victory—it is a holiday about the right to remain committed to Jewish values and practice.

This is why the miracle of the oil matters so much. When the Maccabees purified the Temple, they found only a single jar of oil “with the seal of the High Priest intact.” That jar represents the inner identity of Israel that cannot be contaminated. Much can be touched, damaged, or profaned, but the core of the Jewish soul—its oil—remains pure.

2. The Spiritual: A Small Light Pushes Back Darkness

The Talmud teaches: “A little light pushes away a lot of darkness.”

Darkness doesn’t need to be wrestled with; you don’t grab handfuls of it or shove it out the door. You simply bring light and it disappears. This is the spiritual meaning of Hanukkah: the power of small, steady holiness to transform a world that often feels overwhelmingly dark.

Unlike the bonfire of Lag B’Omer or the grand flames of the Temple Menorah, Hanukkah candles are tiny and fragile. They flicker in the winter cold, barely illuminating a few inches beyond the wick, and yet they change everything.

Why? Because holiness isn’t measured by size; it’s measured by purpose. A mitzvah done quietly, a moment of kindness, a word of encouragement, a minute of Torah learning—these are small flames but they shift the atmosphere of the world. Jewish history has so often been preserved by “a small remnant,” a tiny jar of oil, a spark that refuses to go out.

That’s also why the menorah is lit at the entrance of the home, the place where holiness begins. The miracle of Hanukkah is not only that God helped the Maccabees win—it is that He showed us how even the smallest human act can become a vessel of divine light.

3. The Personal: Finding the Pure Jar of Oil Within

Every Jew has moments that feel like the Temple after the Greek occupation—tired, confused, cluttered, or spiritually dim. Sometimes you feel that your inner world has been trampled, that habits or distractions have dulled your sensitivity, or that you’ve drifted far from where you hoped to be.

Hanukkah’s message is: look again. There is always one jar of oil left. There is always a part of you that remains pure, untouched, holy, and full of potential. That small spark is indestructible. Even if the rest of the Temple feels broken, that single jar can begin the rebuilding.

And it’s enough for eight days. The number eight represents what is beyond nature—beyond limitation. When a person finds even the smallest authentic spark within, God expands it far beyond what seems possible.

Hanukkah reminds you that you are never too broken to shine. You are never too small to change your world.

Carrying the Light Forward

Hanukkah arrives during the darkest time of the year, near the winter solstice when daylight is at its minimum. It also begins late in the lunar month, so that during the festival even the moon seems to fade into nothing. Everything suggests that darkness will prevail.

Yet night by night the flame grows, candle by candle. By the end of the holiday, the darkness is broken, the moon returns and begins to grow. Light will prevail.

May the lights you kindle inspire you to uncover the pure oil within yourself and to spread your light in a world that still desperately needs it.