In 1952, a young Florence Chadwick stepped into the waters
of the Pacific Ocean off Catalina Island, determined to swim to the shore of
mainland California. She’d already been the first woman to swim the English
Channel both ways. The weather was foggy and chilly; she could hardly see the
boats accompanying her. Still, she swam for fifteen hours. When she begged to
be taken out of the water along the way, her mother, in a boat alongside, told
her she was close and that she could make it. Finally, physically and
emotionally exhausted, she stopped swimming and was pulled out- quitting with
less than a mile to go.
Afterwards she said, “All I could see was the fog… If I
could have seen the shore, I could have made it.” It was not fatigue that
defeated her, but the fog that blurred her vision and disoriented her.
As she put it, “Like doubt, confusion or discouragement, the
fog alone had no power to stop me. But because I let it blind my heart and
reason, as well as my eyes, then it really defeated me.”
Two months later, on September 20, 1952, Chadwick tried
again. This time she was prepared to “see” the shore, even if the fog should
hide it. Fog did in fact hide it, but in her mind’s eye the shore was there.
The shore’s presence became a fact in which she found the courage and strength
to persevere until her feet touched the California coast.
Rabbi Simon Eckstein a’h, a cherished member of our
community who was born in Jerusalem in 1919, made Aliyah at age 91 and passed
away in 2016, utilized this story in a Chanukah sermon to explain the greatness
of the Maccabees. He wrote that despite all indications that seemed to point to
utter failure, the Maccabees were able to keep their eye on the goal even
through the fog and maintain the hope and faith in Hashem that ultimately led
to their victory. They may not have always been able to see clearly how a
victory would be achieved, but they were always able to vividly imagine and
visualize in detail what victory would look like and why it was so important.
Seeing the Chanukah lights is an important element of the
mitzvah. As we say in Hanerot Halalu –
V’eyn lanu reshut
lihishtamesh lahem, ela lirotam bilvad:
We are only allowed
to look at the Chanukah lights.
In an attempt to explain why a Menorah may not be placed
higher than 20 cubits, Rashi explains:
“D’lo Shalta bei
eina L’Maalah M’ Chof Amah, V’leika Pirsumei Nisa.”
A person (even with 20/20 vision) may not be able to see the
Chankuah lights at a height above 20 Amot, and if the lights cannot be seen,
then there is no publicity of the miracle, an integral aspect of the Mitzvah.
The lesson of this halacha is that success can only be achieved if we see the
goal/ light, whether with our physical eyes or in our mind’s eye.
The Talmud records (Shabbat 23): “Rav Huna said: ‘If one is meticulously
careful in lighting candles, he will merit to have children who are Torah
scholars’.”
A colleague of mine asked: many people are meticulous in
their lighting Chanukah candles, so why are there so few Torah scholars? He
answered that Rav Huna’s promise is only fulfilled for those parents who
sincerely desire that outcome for their children. The bracha will only be
fulfilled in those families who include Torah study and spiritual achievement
as important, something they see as valuable, a worthwhile and noteworthy
achievement. If such ideals remain “Above 20 Amot”, ie outside of their frame
of reference, then parents will look to other achievements as fulfilling their
dreams for their children.
The battle encountered on Chanukah was a clash of cultures.
The question that confronted the Jews at that time was: What is it that you
see, what is it that you strive to see? Greek culture or Torah values? Bayamim
Hahem ubizman Hazeh. The challenge continues in our day as well. Let us
utilize the holiday of Chanukah and the mitzvah of Ner Chanukah to test our
vision and adjust when necessary.
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