Tonight, we light the second candle of Hanukkah.When we think of Hanukkah, we often think of the gevurah (the strength) demonstrated by the Maccabees in their struggle against the Seleucids (also known as the Syrian Greeks). The Maccabees’ resolve to challenge and outlast a superior military foe in the pursuit of religious autonomy and self-determination continues to inspire us as Jews more than two millennia later.Nevertheless, a willingness to persist, even in the face of improbable odds, is not the only strength associated with Hanukkah.Hundreds of years after the Maccabees liberated the Temple from the Seleucids and celebrated the first Hanukkah, our forebears lived in a much different world. After suffering three consecutive defeats and exile at the hands of the Romans, Jews were scattered across the Mediterranean and Asia. A holiday celebrating independence meant little to them; no amount of Jewish fervor or resolve could hope to overcome the Romans’ military might.At this dark hour in our people’s history, our sages introduced a new tale for Hanukkah, one that celebrated how a jar of oil meant for one day lasted eight. Rather than acclaim martial resolve, this tale taught us a new type of strength—the strength to wait for a miracle. And, as our ancestors’ prayers for autonomy and self-determination went unanswered until the end of the eighteenth and the mid-twentieth centuries (with the birth of the United States and Israel), it was this strength—the willingness to wait—that allowed our people to endure.These two seemingly contradictory expressions of strength pose a challenge for the modern Jew. When are those times when strength requires us to act, regardless of the odds, and when are those times when strength requires us to wait until the time is right?—Rabbi Josh Knobel