Tapping Into Eternity

Explore the timeless connection between Miketz and Chanukah, uncovering the sparks of clarity and the eternal light that guide us through life’s darkness.

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A number of years ago, we took a trip to Mitzpe Rimon. We enjoyed the majestic crater, the ibex roaming freely, and, of course, the drive in the pitch dark through the desert to see the stars and constellations without the pollution of light. It was an interesting lesson about how light can pollute our worldview and prevent us from seeing the wonders of creation. This is one of the things that were taken for granted before artificial lighting became widespread in the late 19th century.

On the way home, we witnessed a wondrous spectacle. Driving through the desert, it was quite dark, cloudy, and a bit rainy. As we climbed towards Yerushalayim, the clouds obscured the view. The city wasn’t visible at all. But then, a dazzling lightning storm began. Every few minutes, bolts of lightning lit up the sky, cutting through the darkness. For brief seconds, we saw Yerushalayim and the Judean Desert in breathtaking clarity. It felt otherworldly, like we were being given a glimpse into something far beyond us.

The lesson was clear: with a single flash of lightning, the entire picture becomes visible, even if just for an instant.

Life often mirrors the desert—dark, overwhelming, and disorienting, but just as lightning can pierce the blackest night, moments of clarity and inspiration can break through, offering us a glimpse of something bigger and more beautiful. These “lightning bolt moments” are fleeting, yet transformative if we pause to notice them.

Similarly, the winter season often feels like that desert road, with long nights, biting winds, and overcast days. Darkness seeps into the sky and often into our lives, making it easy to lose perspective, thereby getting caught in the frustrations and fears of the moment. We’ve all been there—unable to step back and see the bigger picture, let alone act with clarity.

Rav Moshe Dovid Vali, in his commentary on Chumash, describes how this darkness enveloped Yaakov Avinu after he learned of the supposed death of his beloved son Yosef. Stricken with grief and unable to accept the loss, Yaakov fell into a deep depression. The Shechinah departed from him, leaving him unable to perceive the broader plan. This loss of clarity affected not only Yaakov but the Shevatim as well.

Rav Vali explains that even in this state, Yaakov occasionally experienced flashes of Ruach HaKodesh, which he was able to tap into for guidance and direction. These brief moments of Divine insight guided him at critical junctures, such as when he decided to send the Shevatim to Egypt to purchase food.

He elaborates that when Yosef imprisoned Shimon and demanded they bring Binyamin, the brothers’ began their journey back home to Canaan. Along the way, Levi discovered his money mysteriously returned to his sack after he had used it to buy food. This was deeply unsettling, and he told his brothers about the incident.

The brothers interpreted this as a sign of Divine retribution for their actions toward Yosef. Their anxiety grew as they grappled with what appeared to be punishment from Above.

Initially, the brothers withheld the details of the returned money when informing Yaakov of the situation. But when they later opened their sacks in his presence, revealing the full extent of the mystery, panic set in. Both the brothers and Yaakov were struck with fear, feeling trapped in a situation beyond their control. Yaakov’s anguish poured forth: ‘Yosef is gone; now Shimon is taken from me, and you want to take Binyamin too?’ His grief was palpable, and his trust in his sons waned further.

They did not see the bigger picture, the wider scene, so they failed to recognize the unfolding Divine plan. Where the discovery of money can be perceived as chesed from Hashem, they understood it as a punishment of sorts, in which they were now being framed and would be complicit in stealing the money.

Rav Vali explains that this caused Yaakov to heavily suspect his children. They were clearly hiding money from him. It was clear to him that they were responsible for the disappearance of Yosef and Shimon. He was not about to let them take Binyamin as well. He lost trust in his children. The brothers had nothing to respond, as they knew they were guilty for Yosef's disappearance.

Only Reuven, uninvolved in the selling of Yosef, impulsively stepped forward with a rash offer: ‘Let my two sons die if I do not bring Binyamin back.’ While well-meaning, his words came across as thoughtless. Were grandchildren less precious than children? His offer only deepened Yaakov’s mistrust. If his eldest son could be so reckless, what did that say about the rest of them?

It is for this that in his beracha to Reuven before his death, Yaakov referred to Reuven as Pachaz Kamayim, you are rushing like water, always impulsive, not giving the matter too much thought or logic.

When times got desperate the brothers realized that they had to return to Mitzrayim if they were to survive the famine. Reuven, having been previously dismissed by their father, did not dare approach his father. With things at a standstill, Yaakov simply just told his children to go to Mitzrayim to get some food. At this point, Yehuda rose up and said we can only go down if Binyamin comes with us. Yaakov hesitated. It was then that Yehuda took full responsibility for Binyamin, and Yaakov finally relented.

When Yehuda said to Yaakov at first that we need to send Binyamin, the words he used were אם־ישך משלח את־אחינו אתנו נרדה ונשברה לך אכל which literally translates to “If you will let our brother go with us, we will go down and procure food for you.”

Rav Vali asks, why did Yehuda say אם ישך משלח״ If you will send [him] and not the more straightforward ״אם אתה משלח״ If you send [him] ?

He explains that Yehuda knew that Yaakov only made critical decisions when guided by Ruach HaKodesh. At that time there was a “lightning bolt” of kedusha, and Yaakov was not tapping into this kedusha. Yehuda said, "If you have the capacity to send" אם ישך משלח. In other words, "If the illumination you currently possess inclines your heart to send our brother with us, then send him, and we will go down [to Egypt]. But if not, we will not go down."

When Yaakov heard Yehuda’s words about the absolute necessity of sending Binyamin with them, he began to relent. The famine was pressuring and compelling him. However, he also wanted to express the grievance he held against his sons for revealing to the man [Yosef] that they had another brother. What was the purpose of that? Why cause harm to their father without any benefit for themselves?

Rav Vali wonders why the name for Yaakov used here is Yisrael? He explains that, at this moment, a higher level of Ruach HaKodesh rested upon him temporarily so that he would agree to send Binyamin. Without this elevated state, he would never have consented under any circumstances.

When Ruach HaKodesh is removed from a person, they see things only as they are, entering a state of din (judgment), marked by confusion and darkness. In this state, a person cannot recognize their purpose or appreciate their advantages, leaving them obstinate even when it results in significant loss.

At this point, Yehuda reflected upon himself and realized that there was no resolution or reinforcement in Yaakov’s current state of Ruach HaKodesh. Therefore, Yehuda needed to strengthen his father by using his own courage and strength, which exceeded that of all his brothers - he pledged himself as a guarantor to his father.

Although Yehuda did not initially intend to enter into such a binding obligation, as mentioned earlier, a spark of Ruach HaKodesh suddenly descended upon him. This inspiration placed the words in his mouth.

When Yaakov saw Yehuda's determination and strength, he immediately recognized it as divinely inspired and agreed to send Binyamin with them. In this moment, Yaakov tapped into the Ruach HaKodesh, allowing him to instruct his sons on how to deal with the Egyptians. Eventually, Yosef revealed himself to his brothers, and they conveyed the news to Yaakov. Upon seeing the wagons sent by Yosef, Yaakov rejoiced, and the Shechina and Ruach HaKodesh returned to him in full force.

While there are many different levels of Ruach HaKodesh, these “lightning bolt” moments of Ruach HaKodesh, as Rav Vali describes them, were not unique to Yaakov. We all experience such flashes of insight in our lives—moments of clarity that reveal a path forward amidst confusion. Psychologists call this the “Fresh Start Effect,” a phenomenon where milestones or realizations create mental divides between "before" and "after," inspiring meaningful change. Whether triggered by New Year’s resolutions, birthdays, or sudden awakenings, these moments of clarity inspire us to leave behind past imperfections and commit to change.¹

But this is not merely about starting fresh. More importantly, when we feel overwhelmed and recognize that we are viewing a situation with a narrow, , perhaps small-minded vision vision, we must hold that awareness and tap into our Ruach HaKodesh—those glimmers of light that are always present. By integrating that light into our current reality, we can expand our mindset, see things more broadly, and make decisions with a greater chance of success. This process requires mindful recognition of our limitations, the courage to embrace clarity, and the ability to integrate that clarity into our choices. It’s a practice of radical open-mindedness, helping us rise above our constraints and move forward with wisdom.

We just need to tap into these moments, as Yehuda urged Yaakov to do. When Yaakov Avinu tapped into the low-voltage Ruach HaKodesh he possessed, he rose above the emotions of the moment and found the clarity to see the path ahead. These moments are available to all of us, if we are open to recognizing them. The challenge is to act on them once we do.

Chanukah arrives in the darkest month of the year, during Kislev. For many of us, we are already knee deep in winter. This is the second winter of the current dark war in Israel. For all of us things seem unpredictable and uncertain. The nights are dark and it can be hard to see the wider view. It’s no coincidence that this festival of light comes now.

Chanukah reminds us that even the faintest spark can illuminate profound darkness. This time of year challenges us to tap into the kedusha and find clarity amid chaos, transforming fleeting moments of light into enduring inspiration.

Unlike the sun and moon, which mark time, the light of a candle transcends time. It symbolizes eternity—timeless, unwavering, and deeply personal. On Chanukah, when we light our candles, we get a real vision — a Godly vision — of what eternity is all about.

The pasuk tells us Ner Hashem nishmas adam—My soul is like a candle—the soul of man is the candle of God. I myself know very little, but my soul lets me see a bit more, and I am truly grateful for every little bit of light this candle is showing me. It’s time to be proud of what my soul is showing me, and my soul shows me the most on Chanukah.²

This idea resonates with Rav Moshe Weinberger’s teachings on Chanukah. He explains that on the nights of Chanukah, Hashem wants us to look at all the light in our lives, at all we have to be grateful for. Hashem wants us to take a moment and look at our families, friends, communities, and our nation.

While the dreidel is still spinning, while we are still in the middle of our lives, we cannot see what is written on it. When we stop the dreidel, only then can we see that, "A great miracle happened there." Hashem wants us to sit by the candles quietly, to hold life still and to look deeply into it so that we can see the miracles that He has done for us.³

Much like those lightning flashes over Yerushalayim, the Chanukah candles illuminate the darkness around us, even if only for a moment. They remind us that even the smallest spark of light can uncover a greater truth, a Godly vision beyond what we can ordinarily perceive.

As we light the menorah, we tap into those glimmers of Ruach HaKodesh, reminding us to rise above our immediate struggles and trust in the larger story that Hashem is writing for us.

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Previous posts on Miketz / Chanukah:

1. The Fresh Start Effect: Temporal Landmarks Motivate Aspirational Behavior — link

2. The Soul of Chanukah

3. By The Light of The Fire - Chanukah page 77