By Rabbi Dr. Avichai Pepper
There is something unmistakably unique about Chanukah. When we reflect on the Jewish calendar, we notice that most of our holidays are inward-facing. We celebrate them within our homes, our shuls, and our personal spiritual space. We do not stand in the middle of the street blowing shofar for all to hear; we do not walk around publicly holding up our matzah to declare our freedom; even the kedushah of Shabbos is observed with dignity and privacy.
Chanukah alone breaks that pattern. The mitzvah of pirsumei nisa, publicizing the miracle, is not a detail but the very definition of the mitzvah. The Gemara (Shabbos 21b) states clearly that the candles must be placed “קובעת שהדלקת נרות חנוכה נעשית על פתח ביתו מבחוץ”, at the entrance of one’s home, facing the outside world. So central is this value that one cannot even recite a bracha unless the light will be visible to someone (Shulchan Aruch O.C. 672:2). It is a mitzvah designed for the eyes of others.
There is another perplexity as well. No other mitzvah excludes personal benefit. We eat and sleep in the sukkah. We enjoy Torah on Shavuos. Shabbos itself is “חצי לה’ וחצי לכם”, half for Hashem, half for us. Yet the words of הַנֵרוֹת הַלָלוּ remind us that the Chanukah lights are kodesh, holy, “ואין לנו רשות להשתמש בהן”, we are prohibited from using their light for any personal purpose. The candles radiate outward, yet remain sacred and untouchable.
Why the difference?
A Light Born of Crisis
To understand this, we must revisit the history of Chanukah. The Yevanim decrees were not aimed at our bodies, they targeted our identity, our spirituality, our Torah. The Yevanim sought to “make them forget the Torah and to remove us from Your ways”, the ways of the Torah (Al HaNisim). Many of our brethren succumbed and assimilated. The Maccabean revolt was not only a battle against an empire but a battle within our own communities as well. There were those who gave in, leaving Torah life, and there were those heroes, like Chana and her seven sons, who embodied unwavering courage, sacrificing everything to remain faithful to a life of kedushah.
The miracle of Chanukah was not only the military victory or the oil that burned beyond nature. It was the miracle that a group remained loyal, that the flame of Torah did not go dark. As the Midrash in Bereishis teaches, “מעט אור דוחה הרבה מן החושך”, even a small light can push away great darkness.
This is at the heart of our pirsumei nisa. We place the candles facing outward to declare publicly that not only did Hashem perform miracles then, but the light of a committed few can uplift the many now. The message is one of solidarity and strength:
“איש את־רֵעהוּ יעזורוּ ולאחיו יאמר חזק”, each person helps his friend and says to his brother: Be strong (Yeshayahu 41:6).
Our lights say to one another: We are still here. We are still strong. And together, we will remain faithful.
Why We Cannot Use the Light
The prohibition of using the Chanukah lights emerges naturally from this understanding.
The Ramban (Shemos 27:20) writes that light represents spiritual clarity. The Maharal (Ner Mitzvah) explains that the Chanukah light represents the supernatural divine illumination that preserved Torah in that dark era. Such light is not utilitarian. It is not meant to serve our needs. It exists to proclaim something greater, the presence of Hashem even when darkness seems overwhelming.
By forbidding personal use, the halachah teaches us:
This light is not about me.
It is about us but our identity, our faith, our resilience, our collective future.
Building Community Through the Candlelight
If the candles are meant to shine outward, what does that ask of us today?
The outward flames remind us that our community, like these neros, is holy, that each person carries a spark that lifts the whole. The holiness of the candles reflects the holiness of the people who gather around them. When we light, we declare that our community, too, is kodesh and that we carry responsibility for each other.
Chanukah invites us to ask:
Drive around your neighborhood after lights the Chanukah Menorah and consider these ideas; How do we care for our neighbors? How do we unify our families and our shul, or friends, and Yeshivas and schools? What chessed can we illuminate for someone facing darkness? How can we strengthen the kedushah of our community so that children grow up surrounded by light? Just as the candles must be seen by others, our actions must shine as well.
A Prayer for Our Community
As we stand before the menorah this year, let us daven that our community continues to grow in strength, achdus, and kedushah. May we support one another during challenges, lift each other during moments of weakness, and build a future where the flame of Torah burns with warmth and clarity for our children and for all generations.
יהי רצון שנזכה להאיר זה לזה, ולעשות את קהילתנו מקומות של קדושה, חסד, וביטחון.
May the light of Chanukah shine outward, and inward, guiding us toward a stronger, holier, and more connected community.
About the Author:
Rabbi Dr. Avichai Pepper is a seasoned educator with a rich academic and professional background. A graduate of the New England Rabbinical College in Providence, RI, he has devoted his life to the pursuit of knowledge and the nurturing of young minds and support of Torah and Jewish communal growth. Rabbi Pepper holds a Doctorate in Educational Leadership from Liberty University, alongside a Master’s degree in Educational Leadership from Bellevue University and a Master’s degree in Counseling from Liberty University.
Currently serving as the Director of Educational Advancement and Community Relations at the Yeshiva of Greater Washington, Rabbi Dr. Pepper leverages almost 30 years of dedicated service in Chinuch (Jewish education) and community development. His extensive experience in Jewish education includes various impactful roles, demonstrating his commitment to fostering academic excellence and personal growth within the Jewish educational system. He has played a role in the Jewish Day School movement in several cities including Providence, RI., Houston, TX., Seattle, WA., Phoenix, AZ., and currently, Silver Spring, MD. He also serves as a teacher coach through Lomdei and is an adjunct professor at Woodmont College – School of Education and School of Behavioral Science..
Rabbi Pepper’s expertise lies in cultivating an environment of positivity and encouragement, where students thrive academically, socially, and spiritually. His leadership is rooted in the belief that a supportive and dynamic school culture is key to unlocking each student’s potential and empowering students’ growth, ensuring their holistic development and success.
