Even the Minor is Significant in Judaism
Nothing in Judaism is trivial, no matter how apparently minor.
A Torah Jew believes that every element of the Torah is laden with significance beyond our understanding. A letter in the sefer Torah (Torah scroll), a mitzvah, laws enacted by our rabbis; a lifetime of study will not be enough to reveal all of their meanings. Our customs are also significant, with multiple explanations for many of the foods we eat, clothing we wear and other practices.
But what about a game such as the Chanukah dreidel? Yes, even that has profound meaning.
Playing with a dreidel on Chanukah is a well-known tradition. The dreidel has actually become a symbol for Chanukah and even Judaism. It reminds us of how Jews had to hide their Torah learning from the Greek soldiers thousands of years ago, when Torah study was punishable by death. When soldiers approached their hiding places, sefarim (Torah books) were hidden, and the dreidels began to spin. Could such a toy have deep significance? Its association with Chanukah portends that it cannot be arbitrary. Let’s examine this spinning top and see what we can expound.
The Four Letters on the Dreidel and the Approach of Torah Scholars
The four letters on the dreidel are found in only one word in the entire Torah, in Bereishit 46:28, in the Torah reading that almost always follows Chanukah, Parshat Vayigash. There it states that Yehudah went “to Goshen,” using the term גשנה (Goshna). This is a very significant match, since the purpose of going to Goshen was to establish a Beit Midrash (Torah study hall).
Rashi elsewhere explains that the last letter of the word, hei, performs the job of a lamed at the beginning of a word; therefore, גשנה means לגשן, to Goshen. Combining the two versions, the written and implied, yields us לגשנה. With this, we have the letter lamed in two forms: an actual one at the beginning of the word and a symbolic one at its end. Now, the very name of this letter (למד) means learning, so we seem to be looking at two kinds of learning, one more real than the other. Their placement reminds us of our sages’ reference to those who learn Torah. Those who do so with proper intentions are considered to be approaching Torah from the right. This is in contrast to those who learn for personal gain, who are said to be approaching from the left. (מיימינים בה משמאילים בה)
As we refer to the order of the letters in לגשנה, we can see that the dreidel game and its rules connote exquisite depth. The letter gimmel, positioned next to the lamed, the true talmid chacham (Torah scholar), is sure to benefit thereby. Perhaps it even indicates that the gimmel, cognate to gomel (to give), is also supporting Torah learning. In any case, it is easy to see why he is a winner. The hei, however, being involved in lower-class learning, takes only half. This clarifies the inadequacy of his efforts, while at the same time shows how amazing Torah learning truly is. Yes, even in this form, it yields rich rewards. The nun, neighbor to the hei, cannot expect very much. It is enough that he is protected from loss. The shin is neither learning, nor close to one who is. His fate is therefore clear; he must lose.
One may object. The hei symbolizes one who is actually learning Torah, albeit without the best of intentions. The gimmel is merely next to one who learns. Shouldn’t the hei win more? The answer is revealed in a Mishnah. In Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) (4:1) we are taught: Better to be a tail of a lion than the head of a fox.
Unequivocally, the primacy of learning Torah is displayed!
The Inconspicuous But Powerful Lamed
But what about the winnings of the lamed? How did something that ought to be the biggest winner of all wind up with nothing? True, the gimmel already gets everything, so it might be hard to reward the lamed adequately. Nevertheless he should somehow get more; perhaps this pot and the next. But the answer is obvious, revealing the undisputed truth. Nothing is assigned to the lamed, because there is no way to express, in earthly terms, the reward reserved for the true Torah student. No mortal can perceive it; only Hashem alone.
Even the game’s omission speaks volumes!
There is still one point to clarify. Where on the dreidel can the lamed be found? How was he left off, when all the other letters are prominently displayed? His reward may be beyond description, but why don’t we at least see him?!
In actuality, it is not his absence, but rather our nearsightedness that should confound us. Upon inspection, a dreidel actually resembles two lameds opposing each other (picture a dreidel in your mind). So in reality, the entire dreidel is composed of many lameds, each facing the center. Wonder of wonders; the letter we couldn’t find is all over! Moreover, it occupies three dimensions, not like the puny flat surfaces that show each of the other four. The entire dreidel is composed of lameds!
There’s more. As the game is played and the dreidel spins, the letters are obscured; except for the lameds. Still it goes unnoticed. All wait impatiently for the twirling to stop, so that they can see the letter that counts. Then a flurry of activity ensues – which letter? Who spun it? Take, pay! As for the lamed? He carries the letters, does all the work, runs the whole show… but literally no one knows he exists. Interesting, isn’t it?
The Letters on the Dreidel – A Parable to Life
Dear reader, it is not just interesting. It’s a parable to nothing less than the world itself. Ask anyone, “Who is important? Who or what makes things go?” The answer will be, “Those who have made it big financially, politically, or socially, of course!” Ask further, “What about those who study Torah?” the answer may range from, “What? Those parasites?” to “Well, we need them, too.”
The world was created for Torah. Everything that goes on here is determined by how Torah has been learned and kept until now, and what the needs for its continuation dictate. The ultimate factor guiding world events is the learning that is for the sake of Hashem, performed by the true talmid chacham, unnoticed as he may be.
May all readers merit to improve their avodat Hashem (service of God), and thus raise the level of spirituality of their families and communities. And may we all merit to understand the lesson of the dreidel, and to see “The raising of the glory of Torah, speedily and in our days.”
By Rabbi Dovid Stimler z”l, Shoel U’Meishiv, Kollel Ohel Shlomo, submitted by his sister Mrs. Tova Younger
A version of this article previously appeared in Jewish Press
