Every year, without fail, we read Parshat Miketz on Shabbat Chanukah. Biblical commentators and pulpit rabbis have expounded on the Miketz/Chanukah connection for centuries and their ideas are many and varied. But there is always room for an original take.
The daily service in the Holy Temple revolved around several pieces of "furniture" or "vessels". The Menorah is probably the most famous of the Temple vessels, and it has become a symbol of the Jews and Judaism. However, each piece of Temple furniture has a specific message. They each represent a different gift that G-d has given to the Jews and mankind. The question is: What does the Menorah really symbolize?
The easy answer would be to say that the Menorah symbolizes the light of Torah, as the verse says, "A mitzvah is a lamp and the Torah is light" and "Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path" (Psalms). Unfortunately, the Torah is already taken. The Holy Ark represents the Torah. After all, the tablets that Moshe received from G-d at Mt. Sinai are stored in the Ark. If the Ark represents the Torah, then we are back to our question: What does the Menorah represent?
Rabbi Naftoli Tzvi Yehuda Berlin of Volozhin resolves this difficulty by pointing out that there are actually Two Torahs. The Holy Ark represents the written Torah, the Bible text. But there is another Torah, the Torah SheBaal Peh, the Oral Tradition. The oral tradition interprets the meaning of the Torah text and protects the Torah's spirit. (It was eventually put into writing as the Mishnah and Talmud.) The Menorah represents the oral tradition, which illuminates the otherwise impenetrable Torah text.
There is a fundamental difference between the written Torah and the oral Torah, and this difference is clearly expressed by the Ark and the Menorah. The Ark is sealed in the Holy of Holies and is untouchable by man. The same is true of the Torah text. But when it comes to the oral tradition, man has an active role to play. We light the Menorah.
Let's turn now to our parsha. Parshat Miketz begins with the story of Yosef's swift rise to power. Yosef is a Renaissance man, but it turns out that just one of his many talents takes him to the top. He has a knack for interpreting dreams, and this mystical ability gets him out of prison and into power. In the end, it is Yosef's understanding of dreams that saves the world from famine.
Every time Yosef is presented with a dream, his response is the same: Dreams are G-d's business. Yosef told his first clients, the royal butler and baker, "Do not interpretations belong to Gd?" (Bereishit 40:8). And when Yosef won the contract to interpret Pharaoh's dreams, he said, "It's not me. Pharaoh's welfare is in G-d's hands" (41:16). But despite Yosef's recognition of the divine nature of dreams, he is still ready and willing to interpret them.
It seems that Yosef's approach to dreams can teach us a thing or two about the appropriate attitude toward the oral tradition. Yosef does come up with his own original interpretations, but only after he recognizes that the ultimate meaning of dreams go far beyond mortal understanding. Only with awe and humility can Yosef successful interpret a dream. The same must also be true of our approach to the oral tradition.
On Chanukah, the Maccabees defeated the Hellenists, rededicated the Temple, and relit the Menorah. But first they had to find pure oil, unsoiled by the Hellenists. They found enough oil for just one day, but the Menorah miraculously kept burning for eight.
The message is clear. Yes, the Menorah is not the Ark, and it is our privilege to do the lighting. But first we must strive for the purest of oil, free of secular influences and personal agendas. When we respect the divine nature of the light, there's no telling how long our Torah will shine.
