The Thing About Candles

How do you make a candle last forever?

As I reflect on the past nights of Hanukkah, the first thing that comes to mind is the light. We start by lighting the shamash (servant) candle that is placed in the middle of the hanukkiah, and then we use the shamash to light the other candles. The first night, it’s just one candle and the shamash, but each night another candle is added until they total eight. What starts small grows into beauty and brilliance.

I know many menorahs and hanukkiahs are fashioned with the shamash at one end, but there’s a reason why it belongs in the middle. At most, maybe slightly raised or set in front of the other branches.

It’s all about balance.

Read Torah to see that Adonai Himself designed the menorah, and because He did, the menorah is perfect. Hanukkiahs, created with two extra branches because of the eight-night miracle of oil, followed suit.

Yes, the menorah and hanukkiah reflect light, which is a picture of HaShem, but they also represent balance, which is an equally important picture of the one and only living God. If branches on either side were lost or broken off, the menorah/hanukkiah could not stand in balance. The same is true of us, who are also pictured by the menorah/hanukkiah. If we go too far to the left (a picture of the physical) or the right (a picture of the spiritual) we will be out of balance, and everything we do diverts from Adonai’s perfect path.

That’s not to say that one side is more important than the other. However, don’t be so physically/worldly minded that you become an animal, but by the same token, don’t become so spiritually minded that you’re of no earthly good. Maintain balance.

Remember Who gave you your light!

The shamash, or servant, candle represents HaMashiach, who belongs in the center of our life so we can maintain balance. The beautiful thing about Yeshua is that His light never diminishes within us as long as we keep Adonai’s commands.

Again, in HaShem’s perfect, infallible Word, we see the Light that has been there all along, waiting for us to discover Him in this dark world. King David said as much in his Psalms, and he understood that Torah is the lamp, the Word is the Light. His direct descendant, King Yeshua, confirmed the declaration, and it is recorded by His disciple, John.

Everyday miracles.

The story of the Maccabees happened to Israel, but there are many reasons why everyone would benefit from keeping Hanukkah.

First, it is a time to rededicate yourself to Adonai. Repentance is so important to Our Father, Our King. His grace is all over Torah, and one doesn’t have to dig very hard to find it or see that He didn’t quickly invent grace for HaMashiach’s arrival. It’s been there all along.

Second, consider the miracle performed by HaShem on behalf of Israel. The simple commodity of oil was required to keep the command to light the menorah. But the oil had to be pure. We, too, in order to reflect Adonai’s Light, need to be pure. And just like the miracle of the oil, when we conduct ourselves purely, the simple things in our life extend until we realize they are blessings.

Third, Adonai’s truths are all over the story of the Maccabees and Hanukkah! I believe my favorite has always been the tremendous victory by HaShem as He used a small contingent to do so. Our Creator always works with tiny percentages and remnants from which and with whom He does amazing things.

Better than physical light.

So how does one make a candle last forever? By lighting it.

I’ve studied physical light in school, and although I’ve forgotten much about wavelengths, photons, particles required for light to travel, etc., etc., what I remember the most is that light goes on forever. What I’ve learned by studying Torah is that spiritual light possesses many of the same qualities but in a better way.

We are the candles through which HaShem’s Light shines brightly, and even one of us can scatter the darkness. But we must remain lit from within by the Servant Candle. This is accomplished by returning to the source of all Light, i.e., Torah. Get your recharge daily.

We should stand tall, shoulder to shoulder, with the other lights on Adonai’s menorah all year long. By doing so, the Light in us will attract other people to our Light. Equally important is how we may need to shine more brightly when a loved one’s flame seems to flicker or go dim. Don’t forget the necessity of shining Light to other candles.

Like a physical candle, you may have times when you feel absolutely spent. Like spiritual light, when you know where to find the fire to relight yourself, you will shine more brightly once again. That is the type of Light that continues forever.

Great things are coming.

In the past, I’ve experienced post-Hanukkah melancholy because once the eight nights were completed, I quickly found myself between the millstones of the daily grind. This year, I’m going to work harder on me to ensure that my Light stays lit.

Yes, things look hopeless in the world right now. I see the nations coming against Adonai’s people. I heard, dare I say it, that people are calling current events World War III. I’m not fazed by any of this because appearances are deceiving, people love to label everything, and Adonai is still on the throne.

The eighth night of Hanukkah begins at sundown tonight. Eight represents new life. Will you begin your life anew with us?

See you at sundown.

~The Gibsons

Tamar & Cancel Culture

I apologize for the late delivery of this blog post. Monday is usually the day I publish new material, but a nasty cold took me down earlier this week. Now I’m wondering if it wasn’t for the sake of what I discovered.

I’m studying Tamar’s story, and I’m seeing how an overwhelming lack of understanding of her tale is playing out across our world right now. You’ll want to pause and read Genesis/B’reisheet 38 if you’re not already familiar with Tamar. The short chapter is an amazing digression in a larger narrative, but it is one that must not be missed.

I would also urge you to reject the usual feminist perspective of scripture as patriarchal and misogynistic. Tamar’s story is so much more than that, and to stop here in your thinking is to do her a great injustice and miss the fact that her actions provided the opportunity for revelation, healing, and repentance.

I admit that I never truly understood Judah’s statement “She is more righteous than I” until I came across sources that delved more deeply into the text, the history, and the culture. Understanding all three is crucial to learning the lesson at hand.

One must accept that children were highly prized at the time in which Tamar’s story was written. Children were understood to be life and wealth, not burdens and inconveniences. And when I say wealth, I don’t mean that they were treated as mere property. Children were considered one of the ultimate blessings not just for the woman but for the family as a whole. This truth must be accepted, or the rest of the story breaks down.

And perhaps that’s why we are where we are today.

When a woman was denied the right and privilege to bear children, she was denied an honor to the degree of severe social shame. Yet in Tamar’s case, her shame wasn’t because she was unable to bear her own children. Something, or someone, stood in her way.

A close reading of the text reveals that Judah had no intention of giving Tamar to his youngest son for the purpose of raising up offspring for his brother, which was something that Tamar wanted for herself and her dead husband. She was trapped between Judah’s fears of losing another son and her inability to marry anyone else because she was legally bound to her brother-in-law. In her desperation, Tamar took drastic action to ensure that her husband’s name would not be lost among his brethren and that she would become a mother.

At this point, one might believe that Tamar’s efforts to gain children were what made her more righteous than Judah. She took a great risk to achieve what should have rightfully been hers. While her methods were more in keeping with her Canaanite heritage, her desire to be part of Judah’s family—a family striving to adhere to the instruction of the one and only living God—must not be casually discarded.

Both Judah and Tamar conducted themselves inappropriately. Two wrongs never make a right, and neither person in this story was perfect. But here’s where Tamar prevailed: Judah, believing his daughter-in-law was guilty of adultery, wanted her to be dealt with publicly, whereas Tamar, knowing Judah to be the one by whom she was pregnant, sent him a coded message that only he would understand, thus revealing the truth. Tamar fulfilled her duty to her dead husband, but more significantly, she spared Judah public shame.

Allow me to repeat that: Tamar spared Judah public shame.

What she did was huge, and the moral implications have reverberated throughout history for those willing to learn the lesson.

Through her understanding of shame and humiliation, Tamar had become sensitized to what Judah was about to experience if she allowed it. Again, Tamar was holding all the cards, yet she chose to act in righteousness by sparing Judah’s dignity when she withheld her words. What Tamar knew—that for which she was willing to put her life on the line—was that psychological damage can harm far worse than physical damage.

Words hurt, and once spoken, they can never be taken back.

Fast forward to today when exposing someone’s shame is considered not simply justice but righteous justice. People are applauded for conducting smear campaigns to the point of canceling another person in the eyes of a fickle society. The fact that this goes on in politics is no big surprise, although it is still unacceptable, but at the familial level, it’s nothing short of reprehensible.

Imagine airing your dirty laundry to the degree that you make millions of dollars and produce a documentary. Surely, the hurt you’ve experienced justifies you doing so, right? No, not according to God’s word. Not even if you attach the latest trending social label to it.

Tamar was on the fringe of society as a two-time childless widow, unable to remarry a man of her choice, and a foreigner. Yet instead of cashing in on her low status for the sake of gaining sympathy, she considered the other person and spared him the loss of dignity that would equate to a loss of life.

For her selfless actions, great integrity was attributed to Tamar, the outsider. She wrote herself into the most important royal lineage known to man, that of King David and ultimately, King Yeshua. She was and always will be a role model for how to conduct ourselves when someone else’s dignity is on the line.