Therefore say to the children of Israel, I am the Lord, and I will bring you out from under the burdens of Egypt, and I will deliver you out of their bondage, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, and with great judgments: and I will take you to Me for a people, and I will be to you a God: and you shall know that I am the Lord your God, who brings you out from under the burdens of Egypt.

            Moshe is informed about two different things: 1) the deliverance of Israel from the yoke and bondage of Egypt; 2) God's selection of Israel and taking them as His people. We are dealing here with two different promises that relate to two distinct issues that could easily have been separated. For Israel could have become the chosen people even without being taken out of Egypt, and conversely, it would have been possible to redeem Israel without their redemption being accompanied by their selection as God's people. Therefore, when we come to discuss the festival of Pesach, we must examine which of the two motifs underlies each of the mitzvot of the day. Truth be told, it seems that the essence of the day is connected to the covenant of "I shall take you," and not to the promises of "I shall take you out" or "I shall deliver you." We find this argument convincing, both because of the very centrality of the covenant of Egypt and on the basis of an analysis of the relevant biblical texts. For surely Israel left Egypt on the morning of the fifteenth of Nisan, and their final exodus and redemption from the afflictions of Egypt were only completed on the twenty first of Nisan, when Pharaoh and his army drowned in the sea and Israel set forward to the wilderness of Shur. In contrast, the selection of Israel and the establishment of the covenant between the people and their Father in heaven took place on the night of the fifteenth. The blood of the paschal offering that was placed on the door posts and lintels, i.e., the blood of the covenant between Israel and God, preceded the exodus from Egypt the next day, and the mitzvot of Pesach had been given even earlier. We see then that the mitzvot of Pesach follow not from the exodus from Egypt but from the establishment of the covenant.

            Both of these motifs are found in the redemption from Egypt and the festival of Pesach, and it is possible to identify two-fold and parallel features in many of the mitzvot of the day that come to express these two components. Thus, for example, there is room to distinguish in this context between the offering of the paschal sacrifice and its eating, and so too we can identify two fulfillments regarding chametz and matza (see Pesachim 28b, Rabbi Yose ha-Gelili's position regarding Pesach Mitzrayim, and Tosafot, Pesachim 36b, s.v. mei peirot). Also relevant to this discussion are the two beginnings of the Haggada (Avadim hayinu, Be-ever ha-nahar), and similar phenomena. Our primary concern here, however, is Chanuka and Purim, and so we shall not expand any further on matters concerning Pesach.

            What underlies the entire matter is that the fundamental essence of a holiday involves the connection created between man and God and the phenomenon of man's standing before God on that day. On a festival, man encounters God and stands before Him, and this closeness between God and man is the foundation of that festival. This principle finds expression both in the manner of celebrating the festival in later generations, and in the selection of days to be celebrated as holidays. Holidays follow from the covenant between man and God that finds expression in the essence of the day. What is most important is not the deliverance or the miracle, but the covenant that underlies them. It is for this reason that Sukkot, which does not commemorate a deliverance, but rather reflects Israel's connection and closeness to God, was sanctified as a festival, whereas other days, in which the Jewish people were saved from afflictions, were not declared as holidays for future generations. In any event, even if deliverance from adversity is one of the factors that obligate a holiday, the commemoration of the miracle in itself is insufficient reason to declare a festival.

            So as not to stray too far in this discussion, we shall suffice with a brief mention of some of the halakhic factors that give expression to this principle. First of all, the connection between the festivals and the sacrifices brought on those days is rooted in this idea. The objective of the festivals is to offer sacrifices and appear before God in the Temple courtyard, and there is even a special fulfillment of offering free-will sacrifices on a festival, as is evident from the verses:[6]

These are the feasts of the Lord, which you shall proclaim to be holy gatherings, to offer an offering made by fire to the Lord, a burnt offering, and a meal offering, a sacrifice, and drink offerings, every thing upon its day: beside the sabbaths of the Lord, and beside your gifts, and beside all your vows, and beside all your freewill offerings, which you give to the Lord. (Vayikra 23:37-38)

These things you shall do to the Lord in your set feasts, besides your vows, and your freewill offerings, for your burnt offerings, and for your meal offerings, and for your drink offerings, and for your peace offerings. (Bamidbar 29:39)

            What is more, the day on which a person offers sacrifices is for him a festival day owing to the very fact that he offered sacrifices on that day, thus creating a situation of standing before God.[7] On the one hand, then, a day on which a person offers sacrifices is a festival day, and, on the other hand, on a festival day one must offer sacrifices. The truth is that these are two sides of the same coin in that both a festival and a sacrifice bring man to the state of standing before God. Therefore, if a person is standing before God because of the sanctity of the day, this should find expression in a sacrifice, and if a sacrifice brings him to stand before God, this in itself turns the day into a festival day, because the person is standing before God.

            Second, the High Priest's standing regarding mourning. According to the simple understanding of the talmudic passage at the beginning of the second chapter of Mo'ed Katan (14b), the High Priest does not observe any mourning practices whatsoever. The Gemara explains this rule as follows: "All year round for the High Priest is like a festival for all other people." It goes without saying that the joy of the festival that stems from the feeling of gratitude for the exodus from Egypt has no relevance to the High Priest the rest of the year. Rather, the High Priest is similar to a festival in the sense that he stands before God all year long, and thus his status throughout the year is like that of the Jewish people on a festival.[8]

IV

            Regarding Chanuka and Purim as well, the essence of these holidays is not the miracle or the deliverance in themselves, but rather the covenant that accompanies them. What is special about these two holidays is that they both mark covenants made between Israel and their Father in heaven. The main thing is not the miracle, but rather the covenant. Both on Chanuka and on Purim a covenant was made between Israel and God, and this is what underlies these days. On both occasions the need arose to establish a new covenant, owing to a challenge that was directed at the original covenant of Sinai.

            Just as it is possible to enter into a covenant, it is also possible to cancel a covenant. The Torah testifies to this possibility at the end of the book of Devarim, and the matter is clarified at the end of the first chapter of Yebamot (17a) regarding the ten tribes. According to the second version of the talmudic discussion there, if in our day a member of the ten tribes betroths a woman, his betrothal is not valid, because those tribes are regarded as having assimilated among the host nations into which they had been exiled. For this reason Shmuel asserts that "they did not move from there until they made them full-fledged idolaters, as it is stated, 'They have dealt treacherously against the Lord; for they have begotten strange children' (Hoshea 5:7)." Even though we say that "a Jew, even if he sins, remains a Jew," this only applies when he maintains the framework of the covenant and sees himself included therein, but if he annuls the covenant, the rule does not apply to him.[9]

            Both Chanuka and Purim are historical meeting points, when the people of Israel encountered new and unfamiliar circumstances that brought them to question the force of the covenant of Sinai. In the wake of the destruction of the Temple and Israel's exile to Babylonia, a school of thought developed among the people that saw the covenant as having passed from the world. The primary cause was the very fact of exile and the widespread feeling among the members of that generation that God had cancelled His covenant with Israel and therefore sent them into exile, like a servant sold by his master.[10] There is also room to suggest that among certain sectors of the population the idolatrous idea took root that the God of Israel is god of the land, but not god of the world, and therefore the covenant was cancelled when Israel left the land.

            While it is true that Yechezkel fought these phenomena already in the first generation following the destruction, they only became stronger and deeper in the Persian society of Achashverosh's kingdom. In addition to the exile itself and the Jewish people's leaving their land, a new factor came into play - contact with the cosmopolitan society of the Persian capital in Shushan. Megillat Esther depicts Persian society as an open and modern society, in the heart of a vast empire, where Jews are welcomed as citizens enjoying equal rights. Consequently, a school of thought spread among the people claiming that the Torah had matched their circumstances in the old country, a traditional society led by priests and prophets, when Israel lived alone surrounded by a cruel and pagan society. But in the modern, liberal and technologically advanced country to which they had arrived and where they currently were living, there was no longer any need or place for the Torah that sets Israel apart from the other nations. From now on, so they assumed, there would be no room for the Torah that no longer suits their new circumstances. It seemed to them that the new situation dictated assimilation and cultural acclimation, along with an abandonment of the covenant of Sinai.

            The significance of Mordechai and Esther's endeavors lies in the renewal and reestablishment of the covenant in the face of these arguments. The elderly Mordechai, himself a Jerusalemite who was exiled from his homeland to Babylonia by Nevuchadnetzar, and the young Esther, born in the new country and rooted in the local culture while still clinging to the Torah, join together to establish the force and validity of the covenant in all places and in all times.[11] With their well-known statement, "they once again accepted it [=the Torah] during the days of Achashverosh" (Shabbat 88a), Chazal taught us that the verse, "the Jews ordained and took upon them" (Esther 9:27) relates to the making of a new covenant regarding the entire Torah, and not only to the establishment of the days of Purim. If we ask ourselves, how could Chazal suggest that the verse is dealing with a renewal of the Sinaitic covenant, when it is explicitly stated in Scripture that the acceptance in question related to the days of Purim, our answer is that the entire significance of Purim lies in the renewal of the covenant.

            We see then that we mark two things that happened on Purim: 1) the miracle by which we were saved from wicked Haman's plan to kill, destroy and eradicate all the Jews, and 2) the renewal of the covenant that came in the wake of the spiritual danger of assimilation in a foreign land.

            When we come to Chanuka, the situation is very similar. If on Purim the first encounter with exile challenged the covenant of Sinai as being irrelevant to Israel's new circumstances, on Chanuka a similar challenge resulted from Israel's coming into contact for the first time with general learning and wisdom. The encounter with Greek-Hellenistic civilization was Israel's first real contact with a highly developed humanistic culture created by man. Once again, a school arose that advocated the adoption of the achievements of Greek culture while giving up the Sinaitic covenant. As in Shushan, the assimilationists did not necessarily argue against the importance of the Torah when it was given, but rather they raised doubts about the need to preserve it now that they have become exposed to general wisdom. We can present their argument as follows: As long as Israel was surrounded by inferior, pagan nations ("barbarians," as referred to by the Greeks), the Torah could be regarded as culturally and morally advanced in relation to the ancient nations, and indeed it accorded with the goal that it set for itself that Israel not behave in the manner of the abominations of the Canaanites and Egyptians, but rather they should live a more refined and cultivated life. All this was valid when Israel was faced with the alternatives of the Torah or Canaanite culture, before the people of Israel came into contact with Greek wisdom and advanced Hellenistic civilization. When, however, Hellenistic influence began to penetrate the country, and Israel was exposed to Greek culture and philosophy, there was no longer any need for the Torah and its connection to the God of Israel. Thus, there arose a group of Hellenizers who challenged the covenant and saw it as null and void following Israel's encounter with general wisdom. It was in this context that Matityahu and his sons arose, as did Mordechai and Esther in their day, to renew and reestablish the covenant of Sinai and reaffirm its significance in the new cultural circumstances.

            We see then that Chanuka as well commemorates two things: the miracle of the war in which the mighty were delivered into the hands of the weak and the many into the hands of the few, few; and the renewal of the covenant in the sense of "they once again accepted it during the days of Matityahu." In light of this assertion, we can now answer the question raised above: why did Chazal establish Chanuka as a festival for all generations, and in what way was the miracle of Chanuka different than all the other miracles? The answer is that the significance of the day lies not in the miracle in itself, but in the fact that the miracle served as a sign of the renewal of the covenant. The festival of Chanuka is a festival commemorating a covenant, rather than a miracle.

            In order to understand the role of the miracle in the covenant, we must pay attention to the fact that the covenant in the days of Mordechai and Matityahu was different than the covenant at Sinai in more important point, namely the initiative to enter into a covenant. The covenant of Sinai, like the redemption from Egypt, began when the Holy One, blessed be He, turned to Israel to take them as His people and to be their God. God initiated and Israel responded:

Now therefore, If you will obey My voice indeed, and keep My covenant, then you shall be My own treasure from among all peoples: for the earth is Mine: and you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests, and a holy nation. These are the words which you shall speak to the children of Israel. And Moshe came and called for the elders of the people, and laid before them all these words which the Lord had commanded him, and all the people answered together, and said, All that the Lord has spoken we will do. And Moshe reported the words of the people to the Lord. (Shemot 19:5-8)

            Chazal went even further and strongly emphasized the direction of the covenant from above to below in the famous midrash (Shabbat 88a) that says that the covenant of Sinai was forced upon Israel at Mount Sinai when God arched the mountain over them like a tank so that they would agree to the covenant.

            In Shushan and in Modi'in, on the other hand, the covenant was rooted in "an awakening from below" on the part of Israel, rather than "an awakening from above" on the part of God. Since it was the people who had desired to abrogate the covenant, the repair had to come from them as well. Esther's cry – "Go and gather" – and that of Matityahu - "Who is on the Lord's side? Let him come to me" – and the people's response by way of prayer and war constitute the renewal and reaffirmation of the covenant. The miracle served as a heavenly sign that God was pleased with their actions and was ready to join in a covenant with them. The miracle was the conduit through which God expressed his affirmative answer to enter into a covenant with them, and therefore the establishment of a festival on Chanuka commemorates the covenant.

            It should be added that the Rishonim disagree whether or not Megillat Ta'anit is still in force today with respect to Chanuka and Purim.[12] It would appear that they disagree about the following: Do we celebrate Chanuka and Purim today only as days of covenant, without the dimension of gratitude for the miracle? For it can be argued that the period following the destruction of the Temple opened a new era, everything that preceded it becoming a matter of history, and we no longer commemorate the miracles that happened earlier. Or perhaps both dimensions still pertain, and they are days of feasting and rejoicing over the deliverance, in addition to their being festivals owing to the covenant.[13]

V

            The Gemara in Shabbat (21b) says that the mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles is "from sunset until people have left the market (lit., until the foot has ceased from the market)." Based on this statement, the Rambam rules (Hilkhot Chanuka 4:5) that candles must only be lit at a time when lighting will publicize the miracle:

Chanuka candles must not be lit before sunset, but rather at sunset, neither later, nor earlier. If one forgot or intentionally failed to light at sunset, he may light until people have left the market. How much times is this? About a half-hour or more. If this time passed, he must not light.

            The Tosafot (ad loc., s.v. de-i) bring in the name of the Ri that in our time the candles are lit in order to be seen by the members of the household, and therefore they may be lit even after people have left the market. Many Rishonim agree with the Ri, and his position has become law.

            What emerges from both positions is that Chanuka candles are lit in order to publicize the miracle and that the period during which the candles may be lit is determined by the possibility of publicizing the miracle, whether for passersby in the public domain or for the members of one's household. In other words, the Gemara's assertion that in our time Chanuka candles may be placed on the table and that suffices does not come to teach us that the mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles can be fulfilled without publicizing the miracle, but rather that bedi'eved, when there is no other alternative, the minor publicizing of the miracle to the members of the household suffices. (And therefore the halakhic authorities deal with the issue of one who comes home very late, whether he can still light after people have left the market, if the rest of his household has already gone to sleep.)

            The Rashba (ad loc., s.v. ha de-amrinan [end]), however, disagrees and says that Chanuka candles may be lit all night, because the mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles can be fulfilled even when there is no publicizing of the miracle whatsoever. He writes as follows:

That which is stated, "until people have left the market," and we explain that if he has not yet lit, he lights – this does not mean to say that if he failed to light within this period of time, he may no longer light. For surely we have learned: "Any mitzva that is to be performed at night is fit all night." Rather, [it means] that he did not perform the mitzva in the proper manner, for there is not that much publicizing of the miracle. Nevertheless, if he hasn't yet lit, he lights, and he doesn't lose out, but rather he is as one who performs a mitzva in a manner that is not entirely proper. And so writes my teacher, of blessed memory, in his laws.

            Now, the fact that the Rashba adduces proof regarding Chanuka candles from the mishna in Megilla (20b) dealing with other mitzvot that are performed at night, which teaches that such mitzvot can be performed all night long, proves that the allowance to light after people have left the market is based on the assumption that there exists an independent mitzva to light Chanuka candles that applies all night, and not on the fact that the candles are visible to the members of the household. Therefore, even when there is no publicizing of the miracle, after people have left the market, it is still possible to light all night long until dawn, and not only when the members of the household are awake.[14] This is also the Ra'avya's position on the matter.[15]

            We see then that the Rashba and the Ra'avya clearly maintain that there is an independent mitzva to light Chanuka candles, even when there is no publicizing of the miracle. On the face of it, this is exceedingly difficult, for when there is no publicizing of the miracle, what is there?

            It seems that there is room for an independent mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles even when there is no publicizing of the miracle, and this is because of the covenant of Chanuka which finds expression in the lighting of candles. Just as the very institution of Chanuka as a festival is based on these two factors and involves two fulfillments, one as a festival that commemorates God's miraculous rescue of the Jewish people, and one as a holiday that marks the renewed covenant, so too the mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles – which is the primary mitzva of the day – includes both of these fulfillments. On the one hand, lighting a candle as a reminder of the miracle comes to mark and express the covenant each year – and in this sense it is similar to the paschal offering which includes an annual renewal of the covenant, as is proven from Pesach Sheni when there is an obligation to bring a sacrifice, even without serving as a reminder of the exodus from Egypt.[16] On the other hand, lighting Chanuka candles also publicizes the miracle performed for our forefathers by God in His great goodness and kindness. We see then that lighting Chanuka candles achieves two goals: a fulfillment of the duty to publicize the miracle, which lekhatchila demands lighting the candles next to the door to one's house before people leave the market, and a fulfillment of the duty to light candles as a renewal of the covenant that was made between Israel and God, and for this there is no need for the candles to be lit in a place where they will be seen by the public at large.[17]

            We can now go back to what we said above, namely, that there were two enactments regarding Chanuka candles: the basic law of “one light for a man and his household,” and the added level of the zealous who light for each member of the household. And we asked why Chazal instituted this twofold mitzva. It seems that if what we said above is correct – that the basic law of “one light for a man and his household” is an obligation that applies to the house, and the law of mehadrin comes to add an obligation applying to each person – then there is room to say that the obligation on the house in the law of “one candle for a man and his household” is connected to the renewal of the covenant. This is similar to what we find in the covenant of Egypt, where the blood was placed on the doors of the houses and the sacrifice was regarded as "a lamb for the house of fathers that was offered by the house."[18] To this was added a personal obligation to publicize the miracle, an obligation that applies to each and every individual. What emerges from this is that the basic mitzva relates to the renewal of the covenant, whereas the commemoration of the miracle relates to the added element and beautification of the mitzva, as we saw in the positions of the Rashba and the Ravya.

VI

            All this having being said, we can now explain the issue with which this shiur opened – the law of lighting Chanuka candles next to the door. The candles are lit next to the door not necessarily because of the need to publicize the miracle, but because of the connection between the door and the covenant. We saw earlier that many authorities maintain that Chanuka candles must be lit next to the door even when lighting inside, and we raised the question: what does lighting at the door add when lighting inside? However, in light of what was said above that the obligation upon the house is connected to the renewal of the covenant that is symbolized in the Chanuka candles, and therefore the candles are lit next to the entranceway to the house, we can well understand why the candles must be lit next to the door even when they are not visible outside. This is the meaning of the assertion that the Chanuka candle must be lit on the left of the door, so that the mezuza will be on the right and the Chanuka candle on the left. For the connection between the mezuza and the Chanuka candle is that both are expressions of the covenant at the entrance to one's house. The connection between the mezuza and the Chanuka candle is not incidental, but rather essential. We see, then, that lighting Chanuka candles next to the door is an essential element in the fulfillment of the mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles by strict law, and not merely good advice as how to achieve greater publicizing of the miracle, or an artificial joining of the mitzvot of mezuza and Chanuka candles.

            Rashi and the Tosafot (Shabbat 21b, s.v. mitzva) disagree whether the proper place to light Chanuka candles is at the entrance to the courtyard or at the entrance to the house. Rashi writes as follows: "Outside - in order to publicize the miracle. And not in the public domain, but in his courtyard." His words imply that the whole mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles is exclusively in order to publicize the miracle, and that a person lights at the entrance to his house and not at the entrance to the courtyard so that it be clearly evident that it was he who lit them (see 22a, s.v. mitzva lehanicha). In light of what was said above, however, we can adopt the position of Rashi that Chanuka candles must be lit at the door of a person's house in his courtyard, but not for his reason, but rather because the Chanuka candles must be lit specifically at the door of a person's house, and not merely in his courtyard. The Baraita which states, "The mitzva of a Chanuka candle [demands that] a person set it at the door of his house on the outside," should be understood in its plain sense. The fulfillment of the mitzva of Chanuka candles that is related to the renewal of the covenant is connected to the house, and therefore the Baraita insists that the mitzva be performed at the door to the house. Just as there is a fulfillment of lighting Chanuka candles next to the door when lighting inside the house, which is connected to the renewal of the covenant, so too and for the same reason preference is to be given to lighting Chanuka candles at the door of one's house when lighting outside, and not at the entrance to the courtyard, even if there would be more publicizing of the miracle at the entrance to the courtyard.

            Let us now go back to our original point of departure, and try to understand the disagreement among the Poskim regarding which candle is to be lit first. It would appear that they disagree about the very essence of the mitzva of lighting Chanuka candles and about the reason for lighting within the handbreadth nearest the door. According to the Shulchan Arukh and the Maharik, the candles are lit exclusively in order to publicize the miracle, and therefore a person must begin with the candle that is added on that day, which best expresses the miracle, as the Shulchan Arukh himself writes: "It turns out then that he always recites the blessing over the additional candle that attests to the miracle, for with each additional day, the miracle increased." And for this reason, the Bet Yosef (676, end) even adds that "no distinction should be made between where the candles are to the right of the entrance and where they are to the left of the entrance." For according to him, the essential point is lighting the additional candle, and nearness to the door is irrelevant when determining which candle is lit first.

            The Vilna Gaon and the Terumat ha-Deshen, on the other hand, maintain that it is preferable to light first the candle nearest the door rather than the additional candle, because there is a mitzva to light in commemoration of the renewal of the covenant, and this is the primary fulfillment of "one light for a man and his house." Preference should not be shown to the additional candle, despite the fact that it is the new candle that publicizes the miracle. For the essential mitzva is the obligation of the house relating to the covenant, and not the personal obligation of publicizing the miracle as expressed in mehadrin min ha-mehadrin. Thus, even the Vilna Gaon rules that it makes no difference whether the candles are lit to the right or to the left of the door; the candle closest to the door should always be lit first, regardless of which candle is the new candle added that day.

            If the above is correct, we must reexamine the Magen Avraham's ruling (671:8), cited above, that it is preferable to light at a window that faces the public domain rather than next to the door inside the house. His ruling is undoubtedly correct according to the Shulchan Arukh and the Rema, who maintain that publicizing the miracle is the exclusive indispensable element in the mitzva of Chanuka candles, and that lighting next to the door is merely the best way to perform the mitzva. But in light of what has been suggested here that lighting next to the door involves a fulfillment of the renewal of the covenant, there is room for further examination of the issue.

[1] The original Hebrew version of this article appeared in Ketonet Yosef: Studies in Memory of R. Yosef Wanefsky z"l, eds. R. Daniel Z. Feldman, R. Dovid Gottlieb, and R. Shmuel Maybruch (NY, 2002).

[2] "Today in most places and regarding the vast majority of people, even Torah scholars, people do not have mezuzas in their winter rooms where they light [Chanuka candles]" (Terumat ha-Deshen, ibid.).

[3] See Magen Avraham (ibid. no. 4).

[4] See Encyclopedia Talmudit, vol. 16, s.v. Chanuka, no. 4) which cites the relevant sources. See also p. 272, regarding reciting a blessing over hiddur mitzva.

[5] Here we assume that the law of mehadrin min ha-mehadrin is part of the enactment of lighting Chanuka candles, and not merely a law of hiddur mitzva. See Rav Y.Z. Halevi Soloveitchik, among the leading authorities to discuss this issue, in his work on the Rambam, Hilkhot Chanuka, who writes the opposite: "Even according to the Rema that the meaning of 'the zealous light for each member of the household' is that each person lights for himself, it is nevertheless obvious that it makes no difference whatsoever whether he himself performs the kindling, or someone else lights on his behalf. For even the essential mitzva of Chanuka candles – 'a man and his household' – someone else can light, even if he is not a member of the household, provided that he is obligated in the mitzva. The main difference between the view of the Rambam and that of the Rema is that according to the Rambam, all of the candles are a single lighting, and there are no distinct candles and lightings for each and every individual, whereas according to the Rema, in the case of mehadrin, each and every person lights individually with specific candles and a separate lighting, and he does not fulfill his mitzva with the candle of the head of the household, and this is the hiddur. But even according to the Rema, this lighting can be performed by one person for all the members of the household, one candle for each individual. For it does not depend on the act of lighting but on the candles; but the act of lighting can be performed by someone else, provided that he is obligated in the mitzva, as is the case with the essential mitzva. This is obvious."

What he says here must be understood in light of what he says earlier, where he argues that the disagreement between the Rambam and the Rema relates to the definition of the act of the mitzva and not to the obligation. There he writes: "According to the basic enactment, the mitzva of lighting a Chanuka candle is the same as all other mitzvot, that there is an element that is the essence of the mitzva and indispensible, and an element that is an enhancement and the best way to perform the mitzva…."

In contrast, see Or Same'ach, Hilkhot Chanuka 4:12, who rules that one may take from charity in order to fulfill the hiddur and not only to fulfill the basic mitzva. This is because even the hiddur is regarded as part of the essence of the mitzva of Chanuka candles, and not merely an enhancement of the mitzva.

[6] The passage in Temura (14b) understands the beginning of the verse, "These things you shall do the Lord in your set feasts," as referring to what follows, "besides your vows, and your freewill offerings, etc.," and not just to the additional offerings that precede it. What this means is that "besides your vows" does not mean that the additional offerings that are brought on the festivals come in addition to the other offerings that are brought all year round, but rather that the additional offerings are brought on the festivals as obligatory communal sacrifices besides the freewill offerings that individuals bring on the festivals (and see Shita Mekubetzet, ad loc., no. 11, and Rambam, Hillkhot Chagiga 1:14, whether the Gemara's derivation is an allowance or a mitzva). The talmudic discussion of the question whether freewill offerings may be brought on festival days (Betza 19a-20b) must be re-examined in light of this, but this is not the forum for such a discussion.

[7] See Yerushalmi Pesachim (4:1, beginning), Tosafot (Pesachim 50a, s.v. makom) and Rishonim ad loc., Ta'anit (12a) regarding the sons of Sanav the son of Binyamin, Rabbenu Gershom on Ta'anit (17a, s.v. anshei mishmar mit'anin), and Turei Even, Megilla (22a, s.v. ve-li nir'eh, ve-khi teima).

[8] See "U-Vikkashtem mi-Sham," note 19, s.v. gam and s.v. ikar.

[9] It should be noted that some Rishonim appear to have understood that such a person's betrothal is not valid because of the authority granted to the rabbis to annul betrothals, and not because by strict law he is treated like a non-Jew. See Rashba (ibid. 22a, s.v. mi she-yesh), Ritva (s.v. mi she-yesh), Meiri (16b, s.v. u-mi-kan; 22a, s.v. ve-Ge'onei). See also Keren Ora (17a, s.v. ika; and 22a, s.v. ha-Rashba). And see my revered father's article, "Brother Daniel and the Jewish Fraternity," Judaism 12 (Summer, 1963), pp. 260-280 [reprinted in his Leaves of Faith, vol. 2 (Jersey City, 2004), pp. 57-83].

It is not our purpose here to delineate the precise boundaries of the covenant (and perhaps this cannot be done). In general terms, we can say that there exists a two-fold covenant between Israel and God – the covenant of the patriarchs and the covenant of Sinai. The first expresses the national identity of the people of Israel as the seed of Avraham, whereas the second is the covenant of the Torah between God and Israel as keepers of the Torah and bearers of the yoke of the kingdom of heaven. Thus, a Jew who sins is still a Jew and he remains within the framework of the covenant, because even though his sin distances him from the covenant of Sinai, he is still a Jew owing to the covenant of the patriarchs. If, however, even his national identity disappears, nothing remains and he is no longer a Jew. I expanded on these ideas in my article, "Be-Inyan Gerut ve-Hamara" (as yet unpublished), offering halakhic illustrations. All this must be examined in light of the discussions among the Rishonim concerning the betrothal, levirate bond and inheritance of an apostate. See also my revered father's article cited above, pp. 265-268.

[10] "What is taught by 'I am the Lord your God'? So that Israel not say: Why did God give us commandments? Was it not that we should observe them and receive reward? We shall not observe them and not receive reward. As Israel said to Yechezkel, as it is stated: 'Certain of the elders of Israel came out to me and sat before me' (Yechezkel 20:1). They said to him: Yechezkel, a slave who was sold by his master – does he not leave his domain? He said to them: Yes. They said to him: Since God has sold us to the nations of the world, we have left His domain. He said to them: A slave who was sold by his master on condition that he return – does he leave his domain? 'And that which comes into your mind shall never come about, that you say, we will be like the nations, like the families of the countries, to serve wood and stone. As I live, says the Lord God, surely with a mighty hand, and with a stretched out arm, and with anger poured out, will I be king over you' (Yechezkel 20:32-33)" (Sifrei on Bamidbar 15:41).

[11] There is much to expand on the unique roles played by Mordechai and Esther in this process, but this is not the forum for such a discussion. With God's help, I will have the opportunity to develop this issue in a different framework.

[12] See Tosafot (Ta'anit 18a, s.v. rav), Ba'al ha-Ma'or, Ra'avad, and Ramban's Milchamot Ha-Shem (end of the first chapter of Megilla; 4a in Alfasi), Ritva (Ta'anit 10a, s.v. tanya nami hakhi yechidim; pp. 42-29 in Mossad Ha-Rav Kook edition), Ran on Rif (Ta'anit 18a; 6b-7a in Alfasi, from s.v. u-le-inyan until the mishna) and others. As for normative law, the Bach and the Shulchan Arukh disagree on the matter; the Shulchan Arukh rules that the laws of Megillat Ta'anit do not apply today on Chanuka and Purim, whereas the Bach maintains that they do (Orach Chayyim 686:1; and see Magen Avraham and Vilna Gaon, ad loc.).

[13] See below where we expand on this issue.

[14] It is true that his wording implies that there is publicizing of the miracle, just not "that much publicizing of the miracle," as argued by the Tosafot. However, the reference to the mishna in Megilla clearly proves that we are dealing here with a law of lighting Chanuka candles independent of publicizing the miracle. For were this not the case, it would be impossible to prove anything from the fact that mitzvot that depend exclusively upon night can be performed all night long, with respect to a mitzva that depends on customary behavior and whose time is determined by the time that people are awake and out in the public domain.

[15]  See his rulings (sec. 843) and his responsum on the matter (sec. 972).

[16] See Pesachim 93a: "Our Rabbis taught: He is liable for karet for the first [Pesach] and he is liable for karet for the second [Pesach]; these are the words of Rabbi [Yehuda Ha-Nasi]. Rabbi Natan says: He is liable for karet for the first [Pesach], but he is exempt for the second. Rabbi Chanina ben Akavya says: Even for the first [Pesach] he is exempt unless he failed to do the second. And they are consistent with their own positions, for it was taught: A proselyte who converted between the two Pesachs, and so too a minor who reached majority between the two Pesachs, is obligated in the second Pesach; these are the words of Rabbi [Yehuda Ha-Nasi]. Rabbi Natan says: Whosever is obligated in the first [Pesach] is obligated in the second; whoever is not obligated in the first is not obligated in the second. About what do they disagree? Rabbi [Yehuda Ha-Nasi] maintains that the second [Pesach] is an independent festival; Rabbi Natan maintains that the second is compensation for the first, but not a repair for the first; and Rabbi Chananya ben Akavya maintains that the second is a repair of the first. And [all] three expound the same verse: 'But the man that is clean, and is not on a journey, and fails to keep the passover, then that person shall be cut off' – because he did not bring the first [Pesach]; 'because he brought not the offering of the Lord in its appointed season' – on the second [Pesach]."

What emerges from this is that not only do Rabbi Yehuda Ha-Nasi and Rabbi Chanina understand Pesach Sheni as an independent obligation, but Scripture itself refers to it by a different name than that assigned to Pesach Rishon. The verse states: "But the man that is clean, and is not on a journey, and fails to keep the passover (Pesach), then that person shall be cut off from among his people, because he brought not the offering of the Lord in its appointed season." The first Pesach is called "Pesach" because it serves as a remembrance of the exodus from Egypt, whereas the second Pesach is called "the offering of the Lord" because it involves a fulfillment of the covenant without commemorating the exodus from Egypt.

See also the fascinating remarks of the Meshekh Chokhma (Bamidbar 9:7), which includes the novel position that the paschal offering constitutes a fulfillment of the sacrifice that is brought by a proselyte, which exempts the proselyte from having to bring his sacrifice. He writes as follows: "It is possible that even though a proselyte is obligated to bring a bird burnt offering, that is only if he did not bring the paschal offering. But if he brought a paschal offering with the community, that suffices without [another] sacrifice, and he is like one born in the land, and he no longer has to bring his sacrifice, and he can eat of sacrifices, just like Israel ate of the paschal offering without [another] sacrifice. And therefore it says: 'And when a stranger shall sojourn with you, and will keep the passover … let all his males be circumcised… and keep it; and he shall be as one that is born in the land' (Shemot 12:48). This means that from now on he is like the rest of Israel regarding all his laws without a sacrifice. While this is novel and not mentioned anywhere, this is the implication of the mishna at the end of Ha-Isha."

This novel idea can only be understood if we see the paschal offering as a sacrifice reflecting the covenant, and not merely as a remembrance of the exodus from Egypt.

This idea touches upon other dimensions of the paschal offering, e.g., the disqualification of an uncircumcised person, and there is room also to distinguish between the fulfillment of offering the sacrifice and the fulfillment of eating it.

[17] I am aware of the fact that there is another way to understand lighting Chanuka candles where there is no publicizing of the miracle – based on the similarity to lighting the candles in the Temple, and that there are Rishonim who explain some of the laws of Chanuka based on this rationale. "Both approaches are the words of the living God."

[18] The law of a lamb for a house – "the head of the house buys it for his entire household and does not need their consent" (Rashi, Pesachim 88a, s.v. se le-bayit) – is the clearest expression of this idea. The law of being counted for the paschal offering, and the law that the non-circumcision of a person's children or slaves disqualifies him from eating of the paschal offering, are also based on the fact that the mitzva is cast on the house.