“You delivered the mighty into the hands of the weak and the many into the hands of the few.” – from the “Al Hanissim” prayer recited on Hanukkah
The “many” who stormed Jerusalem as part of the Greek-Seleucid assault were not merely multitudes; they were a vast tide of warriors, a staggering force that the ancient world had never encountered.
The Seleucid army, an imposing heir to Alexander the Great’s military legacy, stood as one of the Hellenistic period’s most powerful, expansive forces. It could marshal tens of thousands of soldiers (sometimes over 70,000) for battle – with infantry, cavalry, and even fearsome war elephants instilling terror among opposing forces. From every corner of their vast empire, the Seluicids conscripted mercenaries of various ethnicities, creating a military machine that reflected their sprawling territories.
It was against this seemingly insurmountable force that the small band of Maccabean warriors dared to stand. The few who defended Jerusalem and ultimately triumphed were astonishingly small in number. The Jewish population in Israel was sparse, with many Jews still residing in Persia, reluctant to return to their ancestral land. At that time, Israel’s population likely did not exceed 250,000, rendering impossible the task of assembling a substantial army. Compounding that challenge was the sad truth that many Hellenized Jews not only refrained from defending Yerushalayim but actively aligned with the Seleucid forces, turning their weapons against their own people.
The battles relating to the story of Hanukkah unfolded against the backdrop of an emerging rift between Sadducees and Pharisees, deepening the fractures within the Jewish community’s already fragile social fabric and crippling their ability to mount a unified defense.
It is estimated that the Maccabean warriors faced staggering odds, often outnumbered 10 to one. Yet, despite their diminutive numbers, their courage and resolve carved an indelible mark on history. Through God’s miracles, the “many” were cast into the hands of the “few.”
No questions
The Jews could have questioned their situation. They could have asked why God had thrust this daunting challenge upon them. They could have wondered why so few had risen to defend the Land of Israel and why so many other Jews remained in Persia, living in comfort and luxury, far removed from the bloodshed and sacrifice required to protect Yerushalayim.
But idealists don’t question. They did not look to the left or to the right; they stood firm, eyes fixed on the divine mission entrusted to them, unwavering in their resolve to fulfill God’s call. The Maccabees displayed unparalleled courage on the battlefield, yet their greatness extended far beyond military valor. In their steadfast hearts burned the ability to pursue lofty ideals without questioning why others failed to join their cause.
Whenever we find ourselves among the few, there’s a natural inclination to wonder why so few are stepping forward and why the weight of history rests upon our shoulders rather than theirs.
Hanukkah teaches us never to fear standing among the few and not to ask why others are absent or hope endlessly for their arrival. Instead, we must embrace the responsibility and the strength that come with being part of the few, for that is where true courage and significance lie. Idealism is always a lonely path – a long road that stretches ahead – untraveled by the “many.”
Focused ahead
Over the past few weeks, I have struggled to maintain my own focus on the singular task at hand – helping our son recover from his serious injury. During downtime, my mind has been overwhelmed with swirling questions: Why did this happen to him? Why has even worse happened to other families? Tragically, a soldier was killed in the drone attack on my son’s unit.
Why were we the ones privileged to a miracle?
These questions have given way to deeper, more painful reflections. During the past 14 months, my seven sons and sons-in-law spent countless days on reserve duty, defending our country, placing immense strain on our family as such IDF service places on thousands of other Israeli families.
Had more soldiers answered the call, their burden would have been lighter. Why are we so few? Where are the rest of us?
By definition, the few will always be haunted by doubts and distracted by comparisons. We can choose to dwell on the decisions of others, or we can embrace the fate God has chosen for us and seize the opportunity to excel within that framework – choosing not to question the circumstances or decisions of others.
The voice of faith
It requires courage, faith, and mental tenacity to banish these questions from my mind. Being part of the few feels incredibly lonely and isolating.
I haven’t been home in over five weeks, and the weight of loneliness is heavy. I have spent countless hours in hospital corridors, sitting on uncomfortable chairs, without much contact with the outside world. Yet, this loneliness pales in comparison to the existential solitude of being part of the few.
I have drawn strength from families and victims facing similar situations – or even worse – listening to their strength, clarity of vision, and unwavering resolve, without the burden of questioning.
I haven’t heard too many questions being posed. What I have consistently heard is “If we don’t show up, who will? If we don’t risk our lives to defend our homeland, who will?”
I have worked hard – not always successfully – to look forward and not sideways, to conduct myself with faith, compassion, and self-sacrifice, without yielding to the haunting questions that have no real answers.
I believe this is the voice of faith – blocking out the static and distractions that come from comparisons to others; simply speaking to God from within our own reality and responding to His expectations.
“Hineni (Here I am). Right before You, for You, and with You. When I stand before You, I do not glance to the left or right, but only at You. I summon all of my strength to meet Your demands of me, and only me, with dignity and commitment, offering all that I can. If my gaze shifts to others, it means that I am not fully present before You. I seek only to look at You fully, and I wish for You to gaze upon me in the same way. Hineni, alone but with You.”
A Jew is always part of the few
We must never be afraid to be part of the few. Being among the few is innate to Jewish history. Though we have been compared to the stars and grains of sand, we were rarely a vast population, and certainly, over the past 2,000 years, we have always been a minority. Our religion was never popular, and we have often been despised and discriminated against. Yet, we haven’t let our small number deter our conviction or our faith. We didn’t look at other nations or empires and compare our situations. Faith looks ahead, not sideways.
Jewish history is now calling on us all to have the courage to be part of the few.
The world around us has descended into moral confusion – and bloodthirsty murder against Jews. We will always be outnumbered at protests and be the minority on social media. Being among the few and holding our ground is part of being Jewish.
Hanukkah prepared us for the long odyssey of Jewish exile when we would wander the Earth, always among the few.
Comparisons with other people distract and deflate. There is greater glory in belonging to the few.
The writer is a rabbi at the hesder pre-military Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, with Yeshiva University ordination and a master’s in English literature from the City University of New York. His most recent book, Reclaiming Redemption: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press), is available in bookstores and at www.reclaimingredemption.com.
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