44 lights guide us through winter’s darkness
We are in winter, the season when many of us feel like pulling the covers over our heads when the alarm goes off in the morning. Therapists report that these months are their busiest time of year. As the days become shorter, the nights lengthen, and the gray weather settles in, many people feel heavier, slower, and more emotionally taxed.
Speaking of feeling emotionally drained, Yaakov’s meeting with Pharaoh in this week’s parshah, Vayigash, is deeply relatable. Honestly, if anyone had the right to feel worn down, it was Yaakov. His life had been extraordinarily difficult. The struggle with Eisav began in the womb and followed him for decades. Lavan deceived him for years. The trauma of Dinah shook his entire family. And for twenty-two agonizing years, he mourned Yosef as if he were dead. Yaakov had been through it all.
When Pharaoh asks him, “How old are you?” and Yaakov answers that his 130 years have been “few and unpleasant,” not reaching the years of his fathers, it sounds understandable (Bereishis 47:8–9). And yet, the Daas Zekeinim MiBaalei HaTosafos, citing a Midrash, states that G-d held Yaakov accountable for this response. It is important to keep in mind that this criticism is said with great respect for Yaakov and his incredible spiritual level as one of our Avos. Although Yaakov faced tremendous hardship, G-d never abandoned him. Each time there was a challenge, whether it was Eisav, Lavan, or the pain of losing Yosef, G-d was there, guiding and protecting him.
The Midrash teaches that Yaakov was punished measure for measure for the negative words he said. He was meant to live 180 years, like his father Yitzchak, but instead he lived only 147. The thirty-three-year difference corresponds to the words he said to Pharaoh, each word costing him a year of life.
But Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz asks a sharp question. If you count Yaakov’s reply to Pharaoh, you find only twenty-five words. So where do the missing eight years come from? He explains that those eight words are actually Pharaoh’s question itself: “Vayomer Par‘oh el Ya‘akov, kamah yemei shenei chayecha,” “Pharaoh said to Yaakov, ‘How old are you?’” Those eight words are included as part of the punishment.
Why should Yaakov be held accountable for Pharaoh’s question? Rabbi Shmulevitz explains that the wear and tear of life had left such visible marks on Yaakov’s face that Pharaoh was shocked by his appearance. Yaakov looked far older than his years. On Yaakov’s level, he was held responsible not only for what he said, but for how he carried himself.
This insight brings us back to the season we are in. The question is not whether we struggle. Yaakov certainly did. The question is how we allow that struggle to shape our presence in the world. There are exactly 44 days from Rosh Chodesh Teves until Tu B’Shevat, the heart of winter, when nights are long, days are short, and in Eretz Yisrael the rainy season is in full force. These 44 days correspond to the 44 candles we light on Chanukah, including the shamash each night.
We are given 44 days, illuminated by our 44 Chanukah lights, to carry light outward during these dark days.
The Chiddushei HaRim notes that the month of Teves is connected linguistically to hatavas haneiros, the daily Beis Hamikdash service where the Kohanim would carefully clear away old oil and charred wicks before kindling the Menorah again. This sacred work happened beneath the surface, clearing away what was spent so the lights could be kindled again in freshness.
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Teves invites us to do the same with ourselves, to clean out whatever is holding us back. Winter naturally slows us down and turns us inward, but that does not mean we are doing nothing. Hibernation is actually a form of preparation. Animals emerge from hibernation stronger, and we can do the same.
Even when we struggle internally, we are still called upon to bring warmth to the spaces we enter rather than drain energy from those around us. This does not mean forcing false cheerfulness or denying real pain.
Yaakov’s suffering was real, and ours is too. Rather, it means that despite our struggles, we can choose modest acts of connection. This might mean greeting our children with genuine attention even when we’re tired, or offering support at work despite feeling burdened. How we conduct ourselves has a real impact. Whether we project hope or despair, we influence those around us more than we realize. Yaakov’s story teaches that the way we carry our struggles is part of our spiritual work.
Let’s use these 44 days for more than just surviving winter. Let’s use them to grow. Just as the earth quietly absorbs nourishment from winter rains, we too are being nourished beneath the surface, sustained by the 44 Chanukah candles we lit.
When Tu B’Shevat arrives, may we look back and see just how much growth happened during the hidden work of Teves.
Benny Berlin is the rabbi of BACH Jewish Center in Long Beach. Visit: bachlongbeach.com
Write: Columnist@TheJewishStar.com
