Miracles Today
by R. Yaakov Wolff
Yaakov Wolff is the host of the popular Shtark Tank podcast for Bnei Torah in the workforce. He learned in Kerem Byavne hesder program and kollel, and received semicha from the Rabanut.
Shlomo and his squad were taking cover behind a pile of debris. On the commander’s signal, they quickly moved out from behind their cover and began to approach the next building. A dark figure emerged from the building, a long weapon slung over his shoulder. The terrorist quickly dropped to one knee, aimed the RPG launcher at Shlomo’s group, and fired.
The grenade sailed over the heads of the Israeli force, landing harmlessly in an abandoned building. The Hamas fighter disappeared into a tunnel, and the mission continued. Later that evening, a discussion broke out amongst the soldiers. One religious soldier proclaimed, “What a miracle we just experienced!” Another comrade cynically responded, “Was that a miracle, or just bad aim?”
On the holiday of Chanuka, we talk a lot about miracles. We say the Al HaNissim prayer over thirty times, recite the full Hallel eight times, and remember the miracle of the oil each evening when we light the candles. In fact, the expressly defined purpose of the holiday is “to recognize and praise God” for these miracles (see the end of Al Hanissim prayer, and Shabbos 21b).
But do we know how to identify a miracle? If a miracle happened tomorrow, would we recognize it? And what if we have already seen miracles but failed to appreciate them?
Many people long to experience miracles. They yearn to see the open hand of God, to feel His loving embrace expressed through supernatural occurrences. Some even latch onto unverified or exaggerated stories to fulfill this urge. But a closer look at the Chanuka story allows us to shift our perspective on this issue.
When we think about miracles, our minds usually race to the miracle of the oil—the iconic story that forms the heart of the Chanuka narrative (Shabbos 21b). This story captivate us as children and beyond. The reason for this is twofold. First, the suspension of natural laws is a striking signal of divine intervention, breaking the predictable order of the world in a way only God could achieve. Second, the lack of human involvement removes any ambiguity about its source, making it unequivocally clear that this was an act of God. Based on these characteristics, we can draw a parallel to the splitting of the sea, where God also intervened with a supernatural miracle.
But on Chanuka, there was another miracle: the military victory of the Chashmonaim. This is the main focus of the Al HaNissim prayer, which gives only a brief nod to the oil and the candles. This story is markedly different from the miracle of the oil. The military victory was not supernatural; it was a combination of God’s salvation and human effort. We can compare this type of miracle to the story of Purim, another miraculous event that requires us to say “Al HaNissim.” Like the military victory on Chanuka, the events of Purim involved human effort—Esther’s bravery and Mordechai’s leadership—woven with divine intervention hidden behind the scenes.
The distinction between the two parts of the Chanuka story is made by the maharal (cited below). With this broader definition of a miracle, we are invited to reflect: are we able to recognize and appreciate miracles unfolding before our eyes, even when they are less obvious? We don’t even have to go back far in history. An article in the Times of Israel this past week stated that the war against Hezbollah was far more successful than anticipated. Both Israeli and American intelligence agencies predicted heavy Israeli losses and difficulty in crippling Hezbollah.
While there were no obvious supernatural miracles in this war, the extraordinary success achieved under challenging circumstances prompts deeper reflection. The IDF fought brilliantly, after years of training, gathering intelligence, and covertly producing beepers. But as we see from the military victory on Chanuka, none of these efforts deny the possibility that this was a miracle.
This idea is challenging, as it forces us to confront both psychological and theological complexities. On one hand, our minds gravitate toward straightforward explanations. On the other, the hidden nature of miracles presents profound spiritual questions.
Firstly, there are psychological factors that influence how we perceive and interpret events. Daniel Kahneman, in his bestselling book Thinking, Fast and Slow, discusses how humans prefer simple ways of thinking about the world. In Chapter 19, “The Illusion of Understanding,” he writes that it is much easier to grasp a narrative where human effort leads to success. This is why business books often analyze successful companies and attribute their achievements to specific strategies, suggesting these strategies can be replicated. Alternatively, a narrative that focuses exclusively on God’s influence is also simple for us to internalize. But the truth is that success always results from both human effort and external factors.
This basic fact is difficult for the human mind to internalize because it requires complex thinking. We prefer a simple narrative with one cause and effect rather than wrapping our heads around the idea that both human effort and God’s help played essential roles.
Another thing to keep in mind is that a miracle doesn’t always lead to a fairy-tale ending. A person might look at today’s political, military, and religious landscape and see many challenges and imperfections. But the expectation that a miracle will provide a perfect solution to all our problems is misplaced. One need look no further than the Exodus from Egypt and the splitting of the sea, which did not prevent the sins of the golden calf, the spies, and many other challenges and controversies throughout the journey in the desert. So the fact that we still have a long road ahead does not negate the possibility of a miracle.
On a hashkafic level, there is one more issue we need to grapple with. Hidden miracles, by their very nature, elude easy identification and invite us to probe deeper into their meaning. A soldier looking through his scope and seeing a suspicious bush might be seeing an enemy with branches taped to his helmet, but he might empty his magazine only to find he eliminated an actual bush. Similarly, is there any way to know for sure that a hidden miracle has taken place?
In fact, the maharal (Ner Mitzvah Part 2, Inyanei Chanuka ד.ה. ועוד יש לומר) writes that this challenge was the reason for the miracle of the oil. Salvation from a brutal enemy is a cause for celebration, far more so than the ability to light the menorah for seven extra days. But if the only miracle that took place was the military victory, many would attribute it exclusively to the strength, bravery and cunningness of the Chashmonaim. Therefore God revealed himself with the supernatural miracle of the oil, so that we should realize that the military victory was also from Above.
So where does that leave us today? Are we living in a time of hidden miracles? It is far beyond my paygrade to give definitive guidance. But I think this is a question we must take seriously, as reflecting on it can deepen our gratitude and strengthen our connection to God’s presence in our lives. As Jews we are obligated to recognize and thank Hashem for His miracles. Therefore, a deep analysis of what constitutes a miracle and how that aligns with our current reality would be a worthwhile discussion for this Chanuka.