Why They Hate Us

Before we light the Chanukah candles, we chant a blessing to thank G-d for the miracles he performed in those days at this time. The basic meaning is that G-d performed miracles for us many years ago during this time of year. A deeper meaning is that G-d performed miracles for us in those days, and He performs miracles for us now. Therefore, we light candles to celebrate.

The discerning reader will wonder how we can celebrate miracles in our time after the year we just experienced. A year of wars on multiple fronts in Israel. A year of growing antisemitic attacks around the world. A year during which our hostages are still in captivity. A year in which hundreds of Jews were killed, thousands lost their homes, and millions suffered emotional trauma.

During the Holocaust, Jews in the camps risked their lives to save little bits of fat from their meager rations and tore threads from their threadbare shirts to light Chanukah candles. One night, they risked exposure by gathering in the barracks to light the candles.

As the Rabbi chanted the blessings, one of the Jews interrupted him. Please rabbi, he said, don’t thank G-d for miracles in our time. What kind of miracles have we experienced in this hellhole? The rabbi looked into the eyes of the ragged Jews in the dark and answered that the miracle could be found in the glowing eyes that night. Despite the persecution and suffering, they each risked their lives to keep the candle burning and the flame alive. What greater miracle, asked the rabbi, can there be?

The same can be said today. The wave of religious fervor and inspiration that swept the nation after October 7th is miraculous. Not-yet-religious soldiers begged for tzitzit and tefilin before going to war.

This Rosh Hashanah in Givat Shaul, a soldier pulled his car to the curb early in the morning. There were no cars on the street, only Jews walking to synagogue. The soldier attracted much attention when he stepped out and approached a rabbi with a shofar in hand. “I was called up to serve on this holy day,” he said, “and where I am going, I will hear lots of explosions, but I will not likely hear a Shofar. Please blow the shofar for me before I head into battle?” The street quickly filled as people gathered to encourage the soldier on his way to protect the nation. That day, they heard a hundred blasts from the Shofar, and the street exploded with inspiration and love.

Indeed, the nation is inspired. One day, a unit of soldiers was relieved from duty in Gaza and returned to Israel on furlough. They stopped at a convenience store near the border to purchase goodies they had not enjoyed in months. A civilian approached the counter and insisted on paying for the soldier’s purchases. When they protested that they did not need it, he replied, “I know you don’t need it. I need it.”

Yes, it has been a year of suffering and captivity. Our hearts are torn as we think of our brethren in captivity for more than four hundred days. Our spirits are shattered as we remember the countless funerals we attended, the thousands of widows across the country, and the innocent orphans who will grow up bereaved. There is a gash in our hearts as we think of those who were displaced and those whose homes were lost. We tremble to think of the thousands who lost limbs and the families who must coalesce to support them. Every life is a complete universe; we have lost so many universes this year.

However, think about the millions who are alive. This is not a copout. I want you to consider these numbers. On October 1, Iran unleashed a hundred and eighty ballistic missiles against Israel. According to Magen David Adom, no fatalities were reported from the missiles. There were several injuries from shrapnel, and several were hurt from falling on their way to the shelters. Some were treated for anxiety, but that was the sum of injuries on that day.

Is it because the Iranians have terrible aim and missed their targets? Well, let me tell you this. The Israeli tax authority received 2500 compensation claims for property damage. 2200 of those were for apartment buildings. Now, I ask you. If that many homes were hit, why were there no fatalities?

Most residents were in their shelters—most, yes, but not all. Surely, hundreds of people were stranded on the road and elsewhere during the attack. They all survived. That is a miracle—not just one miracle—hundreds. In Gedera, a missile plowed into the Shalhavot Chabad school that day. Only hours earlier, the school was filled with children. The missile waited for them to go home before destroying their school.

Throughout the year, daycare centers and nurseries were targeted and damaged, yet each time, the children happened to be elsewhere. On some occasions, the children left the premises only minutes earlier. I recall a story in Beer Sheva on Friday, May 12. The parks are filled on Fridays in Israel because most people begin their weekend on Friday. The playgrounds were full until a five-minute sandstorm sent them scurrying home. Minutes later, a missile slammed into a playground that was filled with children only minutes earlier. Do sandstorms hit every location targeted by missiles or only when G-d decides to save His children? We saw in Majdal Shams how much tragedy one missile can cause. The countless times we were spared such tragedy shows us that G-d has our backs.

Just last week, on December 19, a missile was only partially intercepted over Tel Aviv in the middle of the night. The missile’s warhead slammed into a school building in Ramat Gan and caused significant damage. Of course, the school was empty because it was during the night. Now, let’s think about it. The Houthis have sent missiles at all times of the day and night. Interceptors can miss during the day just as easily as at night, yet this happens at night. Another miracle. They happen so frequently that we forget they are miracles.

Everyone in Israel expected the battle with Hezbollah to be bloody. Indeed, after entering Lebanon, we discovered just how great a threat Hezbollah was. Their munitions depots, staging and attack tunnels, and infrastructure were overwhelming. If it took months to destroy Hamas, it should have taken much longer to destroy Hezbollah. Yet, Hezbollah is decimated today—a shadow of its former self.

The greatest miracle of all is the fall of the Syrian regime. Syria was an intractable enemy of Israel for decades. The front with Syria was relatively quiet lately, but their military was a significant threat. Israel recently bombed much of what remained of the regime’s military, and the world discovered just how powerful they were—just how great a threat they were. And just how cruel they were to their own people.

Yet, they fell with little bloodshed. In days of old, countries fell with great bloodshed. Rebellions would cost countless lives. This time Syria fell in eleven days and with relatively few significant battles. Israel finds itself relieved from one of its more significant enemies without even raising a finger. It took months to destroy Hamas. It took weeks to destroy Hezbollah. It took days for Syria to fall.

So, my dear friends, when you light the Chanukah candles this year and chant the blessings, think of the many miracles we witnessed this year. Thank G-d for the miracles He performed in those days and in these times. Think of the children whose schools and playgrounds were destroyed, but who remained untouched. Think of the 2500 buildings that were damaged but whose residents are alive.

Raise a prayer and a storm that G-d have mercy on our people and bring a happy end to this terrible war. May our hostages come home, may our residents return to their homes, and may the Middle East find peace and stability.

Above all, let’s continue to believe in G-d and in the promise of tomorrow. Don’t despair. Keep the flame alive because our best days are yet to come. Happy Chanukah.