You came to our assistance
when we gave resistance,
then we sang
a hymn of thanks
for your aid's persistence.

Ramparts, pyramids and forts
Egypt had us build for them.
We found no justice in their courts
when they drowned our children.

With grace beyond all measure
You redeemed Your treasure.
You split the sea
to help us flee
now Pesach is our pleasure.

Dear to us Your Temple was
still we could not tarry there.
Babylon's superior mass
exiled us we knew not where.

We drank that poisonous potion,
were moved in that commotion.
When we turned
we were not spurned
but gave You our devotion.

Keen was Hamen's hate for us
when he was in power.
He vowed slaughter, death to us
Expecting us to cower.

To pride he kept clinging
While on the gallows swinging.
On that tree
meant for me
Haman wound up swinging.

Ionian, Hellenist and Greek
did define our holy place.
God did aid the faithful meek
who gave the enemy the chase.

Then they found new meaning
when they found in cleaning,
in their toil
some pure oil
Hanukkah's beginning.

Holy aid extend to us
and bring the end of exile soon.
When the foes oppressed the just
You did protect us from dire doom

When the moon turns dark and the sun turns dark, we light a growing blaze of candles: Hanukkah.

When the world turns dark because a Great Government is threatening our freedom, our autonomy, our community -- or a Great Corporation is threatening our jobs or poisoning our earth and air and water -- we light a growing blaze of candles: Hanukkah.

When our lives turn dark because we have lost someone beloved, or lost a loving relationship, or lost our sense of purpose in the world -- when we have no hope of changing, we light a growing blaze of candles: Hanukkah.

When our sense of hope and change darkens, we think ourselves helpless; but then as we light the candles we remember the Maccabees who faced a power much greater than their own.

So on each of the eight nights, as we light the candles we say aloud our intention, our kavvanah, the commitment we are making to ourselves and each other, to create light in the midst of darkness, hope in the midst of depression and despair:

So what follows are meditations for each night of Hanukkah, to stir our hearts and renew our strength,

Each night, before lighting the shammas with which all the other candles will be lit, sit quietly in the dark. Then light the shammas, focus especially on the spot of darkness that is at the heart of the candle-flame, and say:

In darkness, be light!
And in your light preserve
a spark of darkness,
a spark of the Mystery
from which light grows.

Then light the shammas, and before saying the blessings over the 1st candle on the first night, the 2d and 1st on the second night, the 3d and 2d and 1st, etc , say the following (one each evening, as shown):

1. For sun, moon, and earth,
for the spirals of their dark and light,
for cold and heat, for summer and winter,
for seedtime and harvest, for day and night,
for the One whose covenant entwines all spirals --
I light one light.
I pledge one evening time each week throughout the year to set aside the eighteen minutes of this candle to learn and teach what keeps the earth alive.

[After lighting, work out with the other members of the household which night each week you will reserve some time for study of how to heal the earth.]

2. For oil of olives, always growing,
for the trees that give us light and warmth,
I will write one letter to demand that
ancient forests not be plundered.

[After lighting, set aside time to write this letter. Write a major corporation -- perhaps the Maxxam Corporation of Houston, TX, owner of the last remaining privately-owned stand of ancient redwoods, or Vice-President Albert Gore.]

3, [Use this kavvanah for the evening just before the Shabbat of Hanukkah.]

For the sake of rest,
return,
reflection,
restoration,
I pledge to seek a Shabbat for the earth,
a time when we will turn to see and celebrate
our work but will not
make, invent, do, act
and will instead praise all perfection.

[Set aside a time to talk with your rabbi or other community leader about sponsoring a neighborhood festival to celebrate the earth, with free music, crafts, cooking, etc. with streets, etc., closed to traffic and businesses shut down.]

4. For the sake of balancing the cold and heat
that keep our earth in balance,
for warding off the scorching of our planet
that could bring drought and flood upon all peoples,
I pledge to set aside one day each month
when I will use no gasoline.

[Work out together how to set aside one day for walking or biking so as to relieve the air of the carbon dioxide from automobiles.. Could this be one day a week_!]

5. For the sake of the weak
who are trampled under foot
by elephantine power,
for the many forms of life that vanish every week
from off our planet,
I pledge to join with Noah and Naamah
to affirm God's covenant
with all that lives and breathes --
to save each species from extinction
by making all of Earth an Ark of comfort..

[Write a letter to the synagogue board urging it to invite a speaker on the Preservation of Species Act.]

6. For the sake of Holy Temple,
the microcosm of our holy cosmos,
affirming that the earth is not for burning,
and that our planet is not for desecration,
I pledge to be a Maccabee of strength
against all idols
that would distract me
from the Holy Source.
I pledge to pool
my way of transportation
with another household that is
coming to this Temple.

[After lighting the candles, take time to call a friend or neighbor and begin to plan a car pool for Friday evenings at your synagogue, havurah, or temple.]

7. For light,
and for the sake of stored
reserves of life
that give us light,
for the body electric of the earth,
I pledge to seek out bulbs of light
that draw less energy from hidden
places in the earth.

[After lighting the candles, take some time together to plan how to find and buy low-energy electric bulbs.]

8. For sun, moon, and earth,
for the spirals of their dark and light,
for cold and heat, for summer and winter,
for seedtime and harvest, for day and night,
for the One whose covenant entwines all spirals --
I light all lights.

Just as we might begin to feel despair over the darkness of the winter months, Chanukah (which usually overlaps with the winter solstice) reminds us that the light always returns. Lighting up the darkest days of the year, Chanukah symbolizes the struggle to illuminate all the dark places in the world and in our consciousness. In the mystical teachings of the Sefas Emes, the Chanukah lights symbolize the regenerative powers of the spirit. The single small flask of pure oil, sealed with the seal of the High Priest hints "that there is always a small point within each of our souls that can bring us back to God. And every Chanukah, this fine point (nekudah) is awakened and begins to expand and shine more and more with each day...." No matter how far we may feel from our spiritual center, on Chanukah we can access that virginal, unsullied holy spark within, and reignite our spiritual engines.

In Chassidic thought, every detail of the Chanukah rite is understood as mystically meaningful. Traditionally, the Chanukah menorah was lit outside the house, at nightfall, on the left side of the doorway, no higher than 10 handbreaths (tefachim). Each of the details of the ritual highlights the symbolic power to illuminate the "sitra achra" or dark side. By shining our light into the street and illuminating the "left" side, (mystically associated with the sitra achra) we transform darkness in light. The custom of placing the menorah lower than 10 handbreaths, according to the Sefas Emes, is an invitation to the Shechinah (Divine Presence) to descend and meet us at our level. In contrast to the Succah which must be built taller than 10 handbreaths in order for the Shechinah to dwell in it, Chanukah has the power to bring the holy spirit down to our most earthy level, as low as it may be.

The cosmological battle of light over darkness that occurs as we approach the solstice finds its parallel in the spiritual battle that our ancestors waged against the occupying Greek empire. Greek civilization and thought had a powerful influence on the Jews of the Second Commonwealth, and the Rabbis were concerned that this influence would lead to assimilation and an extinguishing of the light of the Jewish spirit. The Rabbis equated the contamination of the oils in the Temple with the negative influence that the overly-rational Greek thought had on Jewish spiritual life. The miracle of the oil that lasted 8 days, says the Sefas Emes, reawakened the Jewish people to an appreciation of the Holy Mystery and the Infinite-symbolized by the number 8. In Jewish mysticism the number 8 symbolizes that which is above and beyond the natural world which is associated with the number 7. Interestingly, the number 8 turned sideways is the mathematical symbol of infinity.)

As we sit and meditate on the Chanukah lights we awaken our minds to chochmah-wisdom which is connected with binah or understanding of the heart. In Jewish mysticism it is understood that true chochmah comes from a surrender to the AYIN-or the nothingness, as it says in scriptures- "ha'chochmah me'ayin timatzey"- wisdom emerges out of AYIN. In contrast to Greek wisdom which celebrated the achievements of rational thinking, chochmah-true Jewish wisdom- can be obtained only to the degree that we surrender (bittul) to the mystery of AYIN or nothingness. The miracle of the lights became the central motif of Chanukah in Rabbinic thought rather than the military achievements of the Macabees, in order to teach that chochmah is our true power.

In Chassidic thought we find that many Jewish holidays have been associated with the healing and fixing of a particular body part. (Pesah, the mouth; Simchat Torah, our feet etc...) On Chanukah, as we gaze into the light of the menorah, we are fixing our eyes by reawakening our ability to perceive the miraculous and see life through eyes filled with wonder and amazement. On Chanukah we awaken from our automized, habituated vision of reality to see life as perpetually new. The Sefas Emes reads this notion into the halacha (law) prescribing that we light the menorah at nightfall up "Until there cease to be walkers in the marketplace" (ad she'tichleh regel min ha'shuk). The word for walkers in Hebrew-"regel"-comes from the Hebrew root R-G-L which means both foot (regel) and habit (ragil). That there should cease to be "walkers" (regel) suggests also that there should be no more habit ragil). On Chanukah we must stop acting and viewing life in our habitual ways, and begin experiencing each moment as brand new.