Day Three: The Tragedy of the Tamei Oil
Chazal tells us that the miracle of Chanukah was born from a tragedy. The Greeks made all the oil in the Beit HaMikdash tamei, impure, except for one small container. This physical destruction reflected a much greater spiritual destruction. Oil is connected by Chazal to the light of wisdom. Being tamei is the state of being closed off or darkened. From a spiritual perspective the Greeks brought tremendous darkness to the world. Greek philosophy closed our minds and constricted our ability to perceive our world correctly.
The contention of the Greek philosophers was that we can understand the source of the world examining the world as it appears now. The Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim 2:17 goes to great lengths to negate this idea, bringing as a mashal the fact that a human being, as he is being formed, spends nine months in an environment that would kill him in five minutes if he returned to it after his birth. Just as it is impossible to understand the conditions in the womb by looking at a grown person, it is impossible to understand the origins of our world, or the point of origin of the self, by looking at the way it exists today.
Nevertheless, the Greeks were convinced that the world is eternal, and that all we need to know about our world can be understood and determined using the logic of our intellect and the evidence of our five senses. While this might seem like an abstract philosophical debate, the reality is that it cuts to the very nature of who we are. Greek philosophy denies that that point of origin of the world is Hashem. In doing so, they also deny our connection to our own personal point of origin, the essence of who we are, our soul.
Through the stories of Alexander the Great in the Talmud, our chachamim gave us insight into the true appearance of a person who does not grasp his point of origin. In Tamid 32a Alexander finds the spring that emanates from Gan Eden, and follows it all the way to the entrance of Gan Eden. Once there, however, he finds the gates locked. Explains the Maharal, this is the story of Alexander’s life. He wanted to conquer everything, understand everything, and get to the root life. He succeeds tremendously. But there is a point at which he can get no further. He can smell the sweet smell of Gan Eden, but he can’t get in, because he has no connection there.
The Gemara continues that Alexander, not realizing this, raises his voice and demands, “Open the gate for me.” From inside the locked gate, a voice responded, “This is the gate of G-d; the righteous shall enter it.” (Tehillim 118:20). Frustrated, Alexander exclaims, “I too am a king; I am eminently important. Give me something.” He was asking for was some insight, some understanding about the point of origin of a person. And so, from inside the gate, they threw him a human skull with eyes of flesh and blood.
Wanting to know it’s worth, Alexander uses the tools at his disposal. He tries to measure it by weighing it against all his gold and all his silver. The skull was heavier than it all. Needing answers, he goes to the Rabbis and asks, “What is this?” They answer, “A skull with an eye of flesh and blood, can never be satisfied.” What they meant was, since the human eye is insatiable, it outweighs all the gold and silver in the world. He says, “How do you know this?” They answer, “Take some dust and cover the eyes.” He does, and the skull is immediately outweighed.
The skull was meant to give Alexander insight into the nature of his own soul. He had searched the entire world, looking for the source of all things, and when he arrives there, what does he find? He finds a distorted mirror image of himself. Even though he has basically the entire world at his disposal, his eyes want and want and can never be satisfied. This is because he has done nothing to satisfy his point of origin. The point of origin of a person is not of this world. It cannot be satisfied with gold and silver. Nothing outweighs what his eyes seek, because his eyes seek something different entirely. A person’s soul is from a higher realm, and can not be satisfied with the things of this world. The only way to satisfy it is to arrive back at our source, Gan Eden. Unfortunately, with no connection to his source, Alexander is left outside the gates.
The darkness of the Greeks is that they deny our connection to our point of origin, to our essence. Our response is the Chanukah lights. The lights of true wisdom are lit with shemen, oil. Shemen is connected to the number shmoneh, eight, the number that moves us out of the natural order of seven days a week. Just as when oil is mixed with other liquids, it always floats above them, so oil allows us to surpass our natural limitations and rise beyond them to perceive something higher.
Our soul comes from an eternal source, and it seeks eternality. The Kohen Gadol’s essential function was to connect our world to the higher, spiritual world above. When we light our chanukiot, we continue the task of the Kohen Gadol. Looking at the light of the menorah gives us the chance to connect to our point of origin and strengthen our connection to our higher selves.
To explore this idea further in the sefer, see pages 106-117 and 144-146.