Kindling Fire in the Darkness: After the Murder of our Hostages
Perhaps you are aware of the custom that we look at the light of the Havdallah candle reflecting off our fingernails when we say the blessing as part of the ritual separation between Shabbat and the rest of the week. For many on the East coast who observe the restrictions of Shabbat it was soon after this ritual that we learned of the fate of the six hostages whose bodies were recovered in a tunnel under Rafah. In particular, the murder of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, whose face had become so well-known due to his parents' tireless and inconceivable advocacy on behalf of all those abducted and all the lives overturned since the atrocities perpetrated by Hamas on October 7th. May the memory of these six and of all those slaughtered by Hamas be a blessing and their murderers meet their fate. May those still in cruel captivity be let go. May this season of unimaginable bloodshed and destruction for Palestinians and Israelis give way to one of comfort, healing and peace.
Noticing that tiny bit of light that reflects off the fingernails during Havdallah reveals a profound teaching. Unlike kindling Shabbat and Chanukah candles whose single flames need not serve another purpose, the the multiple wicks intertwined in the Havdallah candle make their light not a flame but a fire and the blessing we say borei morei ha esh, creator of the lights of the fire, calls for finding a practical use, even one so mundane as checking the fingernails.
The Havdallah candle is formed this way because of a teaching that the first fire was kindled by Adam as night concluded the Seventh Day, the first occasion when darkness fell upon him and his partner. His fear was overwhelming as he imagined that this cold emptiness was permanent and he would never again be touched by the light that was there when they came into the world. At that moment an angel pointed him toward two stones, both pitch black upon which were inscribed the words choshech, darkness, and tzalmavet, the shadow like death. He hit the two together and a spark came forth and ignited the first fire to dispel the gloom and keep them warm.
When we face the darkness as the holy day recedes we too kindle not just one candle but the fire of multiple flames. We remind ourselves that though darkness has its hours we are not powerless in the face of it. We find an immediate use, miniscule as it is. And, especially this past Shabbat, we also know that even though we might only manage the tiniest reflection off our fingernails, our hands are ready to create the fire anew.
Holding the bereft and shattered in our own broken hearts, we pray this week brings more light, a little comfort, and lasting peace.