Hanukkah Hope

Doughnuts, latkes…Hanukkah is all about oil! That’s because back in the day, lamps were not lit by candles but by olive oil. And indeed, that is the so-called miracle of Hanukkah - that when the Maccabees rededicated the temple and lit the holy menorah, they thought they only had enough holy oil for one day, but it lasted, miraculously, for eight days.

Oil was a precious commodity back in ancient times. It was used for everything - lighting, cooking, purifying, healing. Oil provided warmth, sustenance and light. Oil production and availability, meant culture, life, and communal vitality.

Ancient olive oil production is not too different from today, just with less mechanical tools. Here’s a crash course, should you want to become an olive oil producer:

• Olives are crushed (with stone presses or by foot).

• The pulp is pressed to release oil.

• The oil is skimmed off and kept in vats.

Back in the day, only a very special, clear oil was used in sacred service at the Temple in Jerusalem, hence why there was only one little cruse of oil that could be used to light the menorah and rededicate the temple.

But this miracle we talk about? The 8 days? It makes a nice story, but I personally don’t think it gets to the real heart of the holiday. Tonight, I want to suggest to you that the true miracle of Hanukkah does not have to do with the oil’s ending, that is the miraculous lighting, but rather the oil’s beginning…that is, the pressing.

Like the Maccabees of 165 BCE, we Jews of 2025 CE feel like we are being pressed on all sides by anti-Jewish politics and anti-Jewish violence. We feel the foot of hatred and the stone press of despair bearing down upon us. It is hard to keep our spirits from being crushed.

And yet, 2200 years ago, the Maccabees were in a similar situation. They were oppressed, beaten and silenced, but their spirits were not crushed. In fact, in all the centuries between then and now, with all the trials and tragedy, the spirit of the Jewish people has not been crushed. Whether it be in the Maccabees’ caves, the secret study halls, or in the terror tunnels where our people have been held hostage, we have found ways to kindle light. Whether it be a physical or spiritual prison we have been thrust into, we have always sought the light of hope and we access this eternal flame, this perpetual hope, anytime we turn our hearts to each other…much like we have done tonight.

Writer Sarah Tuttle-Singer reflects: “Judaism is not only belief; it is practice under pressure. It is community created in impossible places. A circle formed in a tunnel. A flame lit not because it will save you, but because it reminds you who you are…that in a hellscape meant to erase [us], [the martyrs of our people have always made a] small Jewish room, and let light enter.”

“Judaism is not only belief;  it is practice under pressure.” We are the oil! We are the agents of light and life produced under oppressive circumstances. Our existence is a miracle! Our gathering tonight is a miracle. Each one of you is a miracle.

So tonight I pray: Eternal Light of the Universe, “for the miracles and for the wonders and for the mighty deeds and for the salvations and for the victories that you wrought for our ancestors in their days and in this day, we give thanks and to praise your great name.” Reveal within this oppressive world a hidden love. Help us to find that last little cruse of hope. Awaken within us the strength to again shine bright, as an example to one another and to the world. Amen.

Cloud Dancer, Dream Interpreter - Parshat Vayeshev

I’m not sure if you heard, but Pantone announced their color of the year. Pantone has been announcing a color of the year since the year 2000, with the color that year being Cerulean Blue.

Who ordained Pantone to make such a determination? Well, Pantone of course. And does it really mean anything at the end of the day? No, not really.

That said, each year’s color is meant to capture a mood or theme in global culture. As an armchair anthropologist, I’m intrigued by the conceptual enterprise afoot here. That’s because design, aesthetics, color…it all speaks to the zeitgeist. It reflects who we are now and our collective dreams for our future.

So, what is it? What is the COLOR OF THE YEAR?! The Pantone color of 2026 is called…Cloud Dancer. That’s right, Cloud Dancer. Also known as…white.

Cloud Dancer, according to Pantone, is “a whisper of tranquility and peace in a noisy world. Cloud Dancer encourages true relaxation and focus, allowing the mind to wander and creativity to breathe, making room for innovation.”

Ok, so it’s not just white. It’s “day spa” white. It’s “yoga studio” white.

As you can probably guess by my tone, Cloud Dancer…aka white…was not received well. More than any other year, it sparked outrage, humor and just a whole lot of “huh?’s.

Some critics called the choice offensively tone-deaf. In a time when DEI initiatives are being dismantled and “White Nationalism” is holding the megaphone, some are saying, “white…really?”

That’s just one perspective, though. In a humorous, but not unserious conversation, the Style editors at the NYTimes reflected on the choice:

ALEX VADUKUL: Cloud Dancer. What’s going on there? Sounds like a 1980s one-hit wonder track.

CALLIE HOLTERMANN: This white, in particular, strikes me as a little flavorless. It’s the color of cottage cheese and dental floss, of marshmallows and AirPods. It reminds me of the clothes I put on when I’m in a rush and the foods I eat when I have a stomach ache.

The internet was quick to ask an even more important question: is white even a color?

Well, when you do a little digging, you find the answer is no…and yes.

First, artistically speaking, white is not a color because it indicates the absence of pigment. Pigments absorb some wavelengths and reflect others. White reflects almost all visible light, making it the absence of color.

That said, white gets used as a color and the brain perceives it as such. That’s because when it comes to physics and light, white is in fact a color. That is, white is what happens when all wavelengths of visible light combine. It’s the sum of all the colors, the whole rainbow combined.

With this definition, white isn’t just a color, it’s a SUPER color.

Not only that, symbolically, white is not as bland as we think. One of the NYTimes editors (Vanessa Friedman) rightfully argues that “White is a color replete with meanings.” Think about the white dove of peace, the baptismal gown, the wedding dress, the white T-shirt. In some Asian countries, white means mourning.

So can it be that Cloud Dancer defines our moment? Maybe! In such a dark, broken world, the lightness of white or the promise of a blank slate feels alluring, almost comforting; like a huge exhale and a wiping away of the disasters that permeate our everyday lives and the global reality. It’s the potential to start over.

And maybe Pantone was onto something with such a Rorschach test of a color this year, because the minute they put it out there, we heaped all kinds of anxieties and pre-conceptions onto its blank canvas. Turns out we can’t let anything breathe these days. Maybe that’s the deeper point.

If nothing else, the Cloud Dancer controversy reminds us how powerfully symbols can shape us. A color is never just a color; a garment is never just a garment.

That truth comes into sharp focus in this week’s parashah, Vayeshev. This is the portion in which Jacob gives his favorite son Joseph a special tunic, or k’tonet. The gift inspires jealousy within Joseph’s brothers, and their contempt pushes the story forward toward potential fratricide.

The tunic is described as “k’tonet passim,” passim being a word of uncertain meaning. Now, if you believe Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice, the k’tonet passim was in fact an Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, a name that reflects the bright, cinematic color palettes of the late 60’s and the Broadway stage. That was a cultural moment of bold art and experimentation and it got appropriately layered onto Joseph’s tunic.

But the garment as described in Torah? Probably not so technicolor. “Passim” is likely connected to the Biblical word for the palm of the hand. This seems to indicate that the tunic was embroidered, or handwoven, in an ornate, distinctive way. Was it stripped? Colorful? The sages are unsure but posit each of those ideas.

The Legends of the Jews has a particularly surprising take on the tunic that defies our technicolor expectations, using the “palm” as its source of inspiration. The story goes that, “as a token of his great love for Joseph, Jacob gave his favored son a coat of many colors, so light and delicate that it could be crushed and concealed in the closed palm of one hand.” Think: like a veil. Gossamer and delicate, unmoored by the grittiness of the world; a tunic fitting for royalty.

But, according to tradition, this was Jacob’s first parenting mistake. While Jacob sought to honor his son with such a beautiful garment, he was also holding him back. Such a coat would elevate his status, but it would also prevent authentic, brotherly connection.

Because Joseph’s family wasn’t royalty. They were shepherds. His brothers were rough and tumble men of the field; men who would run, jump, and playfully wrestle around with one another. They would sit around a campfire together swapping stories and jests. But Joseph, in his delicate, ornate tunic couldn’t do any of those things. The fabric would be too brittle, too prone to snag and ruin. The garment was too precious. And indeed, in Jacob’s mind, Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob’s favorite wife Rachel, was too precious for these earthly affairs. Yet his personal sensibility impacted the family unit negatively.

For sure, we can understand Jacob’s inclination to honor and protect someone who he loved so fiercely. But the Torah teaches that there’s a danger in that. Our desire to shield those we cherish can become a way of holding them back. It may be that we are shaping them into who we need them to be, rather than who they are.

How often in our own lives do we hold someone up on such a pedestal that we ignore their truth, or make it impossible for them to express their authentic experience of self for fear that it will disrupt our pristine image of them?

How often do we allow our own fear or insecurities to stitch a person in too tightly, holding them back from authentically learning and growing from their mistakes - from the skinned knees and heartaches that actually turn us into more mature, wizened people? How often do we hold them back from meeting new people and ideas that help them grow?

Which brings us back to Cloud Dancer. I’m compelled by the idea that white is a color - a supercolor - the whole rainbow condensed. It’s not a blank slate, it’s not pure or “untainted.” No, it’s all the colors, all the experiences, all the expressions lovingly folded together. It's the sum of all the possibilities.

In mystical texts like the Zohar, God’s emanation is light - bright, white light. Not white from lack of knowledge or experience, but white because of ALL the knowledge and experience. White is everything that is possible.

This Shabbat, I find myself returning to that image: white not as emptiness, but as fullness. Not as erasure, but as integration. Not as a denial of the world’s brokenness, but as the spiritual possibility that all our wounds, our wonders, our joys and our contradictions all have meaning and import.

As we head into this week, may we resist the urge to wrap one another in garments and expectations that limit. May we see the full spectrum inside each person we encounter, and even when looking within ourselves. Ken Y’hi Ratzon.