English Blog

In honor of Chanukah, we had a beautiful menorah-lighting and party for our community this week. We invited the fire department to send parachutes of chocolate gelt down into the crowd of children, which is always a favorite. And we also hired a professional ice carver to create an intricate 5-foot menorah out of a giant block of ice.

We were able to watch him do the carving—a fascinating process—and then actually light it afterwards! We’ve been lighting the menorah every night since, but last night, when I walked past it at 10pm, I discovered the menorah in pieces on the ground.

At first, I assumed it must have melted. After all, we knew it wouldn’t last forever, but we did hope it would hold up through all 8 days of the holiday. When I looked more closely, however, I realized it had not melted at all. Aside from the frigid weather we’ve had all week, which certainly would’ve kept the menorah intact, it had clearly been hacked to pieces—a deliberate and malicious act by someone who didn’t like our menorah and what it represented.

I even considered if a car or truck may have accidentally backed into it, but the damage to both sides indicated that that was not the case.

Clearly, our menorah had deeply affected someone to the extent that they felt compelled to destroy it. What goes through the mind of such a person? A menorah represents light, purity, and holiness. What could lead someone to smash that? Where is the hatred coming from? Did the menorah awaken something in their soul?

Regardless, the message of Chanukah is more relevant than ever: No matter how much darkness surrounds us, light will always win. No matter how much they try to destroy us, we will prevail. In fact, the whole reason we light the candles after dark is to light up the world!

Are we disappointed that someone saw fit to smash our menorah? Absolutely. But are we letting them win? Of course not.

We’ve had yeshiva students here every night of Chanukah distributing thousands of menorahs, doughnuts, and latkes, and we will continue spreading the light for the remaining nights of the holiday.

The Torah teaches that it only takes a small amount of light to dispel tremendous darkness, and that is our goal. Spread the light, dispel the darkness. And when better to put this into practice than tonight, the fifth night of Chanukah?

The fifth night is considered the darkest night of Chanukah, because it can never coincide with Shabbat. Our Sages teach that when Chanukah occurs on days that are even only potentially Shabbat days, the light of Chanukah combines with the light of Shabbat for a powerful illumination. So the fifth night, which can never be on Shabbat, represents great darkness relative to the other nights. This means the fifth light has the unique power to illuminate and instill spirituality even in such a time of darkness.

So come out tonight and light the fifth candle with us at our Chabad center. Together, we will counter the dark and show the world our resilience and determination.

My business is to inspire people, and I spend literally hundreds or thousands of hours doing just that: teaching Torah, giving sermons, writing blogs, sending emails, organizing Chanukah parties and Purim parties, conducting Pesach Seders and blowing Shofar, even posting on social media … you get the picture. 

Years ago, we met *Yankel and *Sara. They started attending our Chabad services, holiday paties and events, and I, of course, tried my best to show them the beauty and warmth of Judaism. With time, we became close friends with Yankel and Sara and their extended family. 

Recently, Sara confided in me that there was one thing early on that truly inspired her.

It was a cold Friday night and Yankel and Sara were guests at our Shabbat dinner. My two boys were playing ball with their child, right by the dining room table.

I was eating my chicken soup, deep in conversation, when suddenly my son threw the ball at the wall, and it rebounded  straight into my soup! 

Talk about aim and precision – he must have a really good hand!

Sara watched, waiting for my reaction. She expected me to take my son to the next room and give him a good beating or severe punishment. At the very least, a stern rebuke! 

But no, she said. All I did was remove the ball from my soup, wipe off my shirt with a napkin, and continue the conversation as if nothing had happened. She was flabbergasted! Where was my reaction? Where was the rebuke?

So why did I do what I did? More than anything else, our kids need love. There is no such thing as too much love. No way to spoil by loving too much. No matter how much love you give, they're always ready for another dose. 

Of course, a few days later when you're calm you can have a conversation about not throwing balls into chicken soup. In this case, I don’t even think I had that conversation. My son did not do it on purpose, and I am sure he realized on his own that he made a mistake by throwing the ball in my soup. Anger or a lecture would have played no constructive purpose. 

I once heard that every rabbi has only one sermon – it’s the way you lead your life. No matter how many hours we spend preparing and delivering the perfect sermon, it's not a reliable way to actually effect change. The only true way to inspire is by example. 

When we show love, that inspires others to show love, and so on. 

So go out today and be a shining example to your friends and family.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Uriel Vigler