Your first Hanukkah can feel weirdly high-stakes for something involving tiny candles and fried potatoes. When do you light, what do you say, where do you put the menorah, and how do you know you’re “doing it right” if you don’t have a community around you yet?
If that’s you, breathe. You can celebrate Hanukkah beautifully at home, even if you’re solo, still in the conversion process, or far from a synagogue. This video walks you through the core mitzvot, what’s actually required and what’s just cultural add-ons, and how to make your space feel like a small sanctuary without spending any money.
If you want more calm, practical support like this all year long, make sure you join my mailing list in the sidebar to your right. That’s where I share step-by-step guides, reminders, and resources to help you build a Jewish life that fits your real energy, budget, and circumstances.
And once you feel steadier about candles and blessings, you might be wondering about gifts. What’s “Jewish,” what’s just Christmas-adjacent, and how do you choose things that feel meaningful instead of random? For that, check out my Chanukah Gift Guide, where I walk through thoughtful, low-pressure gift ideas you can use for yourself or share with the people who love you.
Chag sameach!
Transcript below.
Transcript:
Your first Hanukkah can feel intimidating.
How do you light the Menorah? What do you say? When does Hanukkah even start?
I have been there.
Standing in front of the menorah terrified that I was gonna screw it up.
But you can absolutely do this even if you’re celebrating solo.
Maybe you don’t have a synagogue nearby.
Maybe you don’t have friends or family celebrating.
You can still celebrate Hanukkah beautifully, right where you are.
And you may not even have to buy anything.
You don’t need a crowd. Just a few candles, a spark of courage, and the willingness to bring light into your own life.
This is part of my series, How to Celebrate Jewish Holidays at Home without a Community.
Hi, I’m Kochava. I’m a Jewish convert who’s been helping people convert to Judaism since 2010 through my blog, Building a Jewish Life.com. I’ll show you how to make Hanukkah simple, doable, and meaningful.
Even if you have no idea what you’re doing.
And for more calm, practical Jewish guides like this, make sure to subscribe and join my mailing list at Building a Jewish Life.com.
Before we get lost in all the noise of what Hanukkah could look like, let’s ground ourselves in what it actually asks of us.
There are only a few real Mitzvot, commandments, here, and they’re meant to bring light into your home, not stress.
Everything else you’ve seen on Instagram, on television, in your childhood memories, or the aisle of target, is all extra. Beautiful, meaningful, sometimes delicious, but extra. Here’s what’s core.
First, let’s start with when is Hanukkah anyway? The date changes every year. How am I supposed to keep track of that?
It’s always on the 25th day of the Jewish month of Kislev, and honestly, I find it easy to remember it’s the 25th because of Christmas. Imperfect, but it works.
It usually falls in December on the Gregorian calendar.
You can use a website like HebCal H-E-B-C-A-L to find the exact date each year. HebCal even has a Jewish calendar you can subscribe to on your own online calendar. No, I’m not sponsored by them. I’ve just benefited from their awesome free products for many years.
Now there’s only one real mitzvah of Hanukkah: lighting the Hanukkah candles, which we traditionally do on a menorah or what’s called a Chanukiah.
I’ll describe below how we do that correctly. It’s a little complicated, but it’s easy once you get the hang of it. But yes, even many lifelong Jews forget which order to go in every single year and have to look it up.
Thank God for the internet, and of course, it’s in many prayer books, Siddurs, as well.
Then after you light, you say the blessings, there are three on the first night and two blessings on the nights after.
If you forget or can’t say them for some reason, it still counts.
Because the true mitzvah here is to “publicize the miracle.”
Generally we interpret that to mean people should be able to see your Chanukiah.
But ironically, they don’t have to if that’s not practical in your situation. Like for instance, in my house, my house is backwards, so the front window actually looks out on the backyard and there is no front window on the actual front of the house. So sure. My backyard neighbors could see our Chanukiah, so we’re still publicizing the miracle, but it’s not exactly what was intended right? But it’s still kosher.
A window sill, a table by the door, wherever is safe works.
In Israel, many people actually light outside their homes in a little glass box.
So that’s it. That’s the mitzvot of Hanukkah.
Everything else is custom, beauty, culture, history, family tradition, or nowadays, social peer pressure.
And here’s something else that surprises a lot of people when they’re new to Jewish life: Hanukkah is a minor holiday. It’s not a big deal at all.
Hanukkah became a big deal solely because of its proximity to Christmas and the American desire to fold Jews into a new “Judeo-Christian” identity that was invented after World War II, a patriotic story of tolerance that used Hanukkah to symbolize diversity in public spaces even as it expected minority traditions to orbit around Christmas and blend into a culture, still unwilling to dismantle much of its own antisemitism. And yes, that’s me saying the quiet part out loud. If that felt spicy, good.
Some things deserve a little heat. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
But here’s the other surprising part.
More technically, Hanukkah isn’t a “Yom Tov,” a holiday under Jewish law, Halacha. It is not one of the biblically mandated holidays rooted in the Torah and having Shabbat-like restrictions. No work stoppage, no cooking restrictions, no ritual requirements beyond the candles themselves.
Hanukkah, like Purim, came later in Jewish history.
It’s still deeply meaningful and important to Jews, but it doesn’t carry the halachic weight of a holiday like say, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, or Pesach, Passover. That actually gives you a lot of freedom.
You can build small home-based traditions that fit your life and your energy without worrying that you’re breaking something important.
It is a holiday that meets you where you are.
Candles first, everything else is gravy.
So now that we’ve turned down the pressure a little bit, let’s talk about the pressure that starts skyrocketing instead. The questions that everyone suddenly wants to ask you about Jewish stuff.
This is the month when people will suddenly remember that you’re Jewish or Jewish curious, because Hanukkah exists.
For many of you, this will be the first time that coworkers, neighbors, and long lost cousins decide to ask you their burning questions about Judaism.
Sometimes sweet, sometimes awkward, and sometimes the kind that make you wanna say, “oh wow, look at the time.”
Unfortunately, there is no mute button on real life yet.
You might get questions like, ” wait, so is Hanukkah basically Jewish Christmas?” ” Do you do gifts?” ” Why don’t you just celebrate both?” ” Aren’t they the same thing?”
Or the classic, “what does Hanukkah even mean anyway?”
And here’s the thing. Generally these questions aren’t malicious. They have good intentions. They’re just coming from a world that doesn’t know how to imagine Jewish life without flattening it into the majority culture of Christmas.
But those questions can still hit deep, especially if you’re still figuring it out for yourself.
So this season becomes a place when you can practice boundaries.
The conversations you wanna have, the clarity you’re growing into.
The Jewish month of Kislev asks us to sit in the dark and ask ” what parts of my identity do I wanna protect? What do I wanna share, and what am I still learning to say out loud?”
And those conversations, you get to decide how deep they go. You’re allowed to keep things simple. You can choose to educate someone. You’re allowed to say, “that’s a longer conversation, but here’s the short version.”
Or “I’m still kind of new to this, but this is what I’m learning.”
And yes, you are also allowed to not answer at all. You don’t owe anyone a TED talk on Jewish identity. They have Google.
You’re no one’s personal Jewish hotline. You are allowed to protect your peace.
Hanukkah calls for us to publicize the miracle.
Doorways, windows, places where people see. But the way you talk about your Jewish life and how much of it you share, that’s entirely up to you.
And once you’ve sorted out that easy question of what you do or don’t want to share, let’s move into the truly controversial stuff, like how on earth are you supposed to spell Hanukkah?
Let’s settle this for once and for all.
There is no single correct way to spell Hanukkah in English. None, zero.
Not even the spelling that your Hebrew school teacher insisted you use.
Every version you’ve seen, c h, H, how many the hell Ks are there in it?
It’s just an attempt to take an a Hebrew word and force it through the chaos machine that is English spelling.
The main issue is that English doesn’t have a letter for the sound… so some spellings try to capture it with a Ch. Some spellings try to capture it with just an H. Both are fine and neither is perfect. Because of course the CH then makes people think it’s spelling Ch-anukah.
So here’s the rule. Pick the spelling you like and stick with it.
Or don’t stick with it.
There is no Hanukkah police.
If you want my take, I personally use the CH spelling, C-H-A-N-U-K-A-H because it’s the one used in more traditional sources.
And legit because it is different from how everyone else spells it in America so it reminds me that this is a Jewish thing.
it reminds me that Hanukkah didn’t originate in a Hallmark aisle. But every spelling is valid. Every spelling is Jewish.
And the candles will still light no matter what you type.
So once you’ve picked your preferred spelling or embraced Hanukkah spelling chaos, we can zoom out to the bigger picture. What is this holiday actually about? Because every action you take in your personal observance of Hanukkah should flow from these ideas.
For many converts and seekers, Hanukkah is the first Jewish holiday that they celebrate.
And knowing why we light the candles makes it mean so much more.
It’s not just a holiday about light.
It’s about courage, identity, and what it means to stay Jewish in a world that doesn’t always make that easy. Let’s start with a short version of that story.
Over 2000 years ago, the Jewish people were living in Israel under Greek rule.
The empire brought art, philosophy, innovation.
But it also tried to erase Jewish life, which, if you know history, was kind of the Greeks’ thing.
Public Torah study was banned. Shabbat was outlawed.
The Temple in Jerusalem, the Beit HaMikdash, was desecrated.
But the Maccabees, a small group of Jewish rebels, fought back.
They weren’t soldiers or priests by training.
They were ordinary Jews who refused to let their identity disappear.
They stood up for the right to live as Jews, to keep Torah, to light their menorah.
To be themselves in a world that wanted to make them blend in.
And that’s another layer we don’t always talk about. Hanukkah is often called “Jewish Christmas,” which is honestly a little offensive given that history.
It flattens our story into someone else’s holiday template.
Like the only way to understand Jewish joy is by comparing it to the majority culture.
But Hanukah isn’t Jewish Christmas. It’s a holiday about resisting exactly that kind of pressure.
The pressure to blend in. The pressure to let go of what makes us different, so we’ll be easier to understand, easier to work with.
Easier to absorb. Easier to ignore.
The Greeks didn’t just outlaw Torah observance.
They pushed an entire worldview that said, “your identity would be better if it looked more like ours.”
And the Maccabees said no. Not because they hated Greek culture or Greek people, but because they refused to disappear.
So when people call it “Jewish Christmas,” that misses the whole point.
Hanukkah isn’t about matching anyone else’s holiday energy. It’s about holding onto your own. It’s about choosing visibility in a world, ancient or modern, that pushes us towards sameness.
The menorah isn’t just a symbol of light, it’s a symbol saying, “I’m still here. I’m still Jewish. And that’s worth sharing.”
So when the Maccabees finally reclaimed the Temple, which spoiler alert, they lost the war. The word Hanukkah means rededication, for this rededicating of the Temple.
They went to relight the great Menorah, a six branched menorah that was a symbol of G-d’s presence on earth.
But they only found enough oil for one night. They lit it anyway.
And somehow it burned for eight nights, enough days to make a new batch of pure oil.
And that’s the miracle we remember.
Not just that the oil lasted, but that they lit it anyway.
They didn’t wait for ideal conditions.
They acted with what they had, and that’s what Hanukah really celebrates: hope, persistence, and the courage to stay visible.
Lighting candles in the dark is both the story and the practice.
It’s how we remind ourselves that Jewish life isn’t about perfection or safety.
It’s about showing up for what’s right, even when you’re running on empty.
The Maccabees didn’t wait for a miracle. They made one by beginning anyway.
And once you understand that spirit, that showing up is the miracle, let’s bring this story into your home and talk about how to create a space for your own light.
You don’t need a big setup or fancy Judaica to make Hanukkah special.
All you need is a small space in your home that feels safe, intentional, and that you can bring a little sacredness into.
Traditionally, we place the hanukia, which in comparison to the menorah in the Beit HaMikdash, it has eight branches instead of six, and both had what’s called the Shamash in the middle.
So the shamash is the helper candle that you use to light the other candles. On a practical note, I prefer Chanukiyot that have the shamash on the side, not in the middle, because you put the Shamash back last after all the other candles are lit. Do you want to be placing your hand here? Trying to fit a candle in the middle here?
No, it sucks. Don’t do it. And hopefully we can convince companies to stop making them with a Shamash in the middle. It’s terrible idea. Yes. I have very strong feelings on this point.
So traditionally we place the Chanukiah somewhere visible as we said above, often near a window or a doorway, so we can share that light with the world.
But if that doesn’t work for your space, that’s fine. Light it where you can see it. That’s still kosher.
Here’s what you’ll need.
- A Chanukiah.
2. Candles or oil. Any kind of candles will do. tea lights, birthday candles, tapers.
They even make specialty oil cups, which can even come pre-filled with the oil.
You can often find these cheap kind of Hanukkah candles in the kosher section of your local grocery store. Usually you’ll find the “kosher section” in the multicultural, multiethnic aisle with international cuisines. And for some reason they carry Hanukkah candles all year long.
If you don’t have a Chanukiah, you can improvise.
Just line up eight small candles, tea lights, or jars with a candle inside and an extra one for the Shamash.
Judaism has always been creative with what’s available.
But we also have a mitzvah called Hiddur Mitzvah, which is about beautifying mitzvot. And so that’s why we try to get Judaica that we like and think is beautiful. So if that’s in your budget, go for it.
4. You’ll need a stable surface, ideally with something underneath to catch dripping wax if you’re using wax candles. Tinfoil is great for this.
It would be best to light on a fireproof surface, but that’s not always practical. However many people light their candles on top of a metal tray.
5. Obviously, you’ll need a lighter or matches,
6. and you’ll want a copy of the blessings either printed out or pulled up on your phone.
I’ll link some that include a transliteration down below in the description.
Now before lighting, take a deep breath. Maybe dim the lights, silence your notifications, and set an intention.
Maybe to rededicate this small corner of your home, just like the Maccabees rededicated the Temple.
Because every home can be a Mikdash Me’at, a little sanctuary, a Beit HaMikdash in miniature.
The Holiness isn’t in the objects. It’s in your presence and your choices.
Now that your space is ready, let’s light.
So lighting the Chanukiah is the heart of Hanukkah.
Not because it’s complicated, but ’cause it’s simple. It’s one of those mitzvah that meet you exactly where you are.
So here’s how it works. And I’ll link down below in the description to a description of this. First, you set your candles. Each night you add one new candle. Personally, I just always pick up my shamash first.
So each night you add one new candle.
So on night one, you’re actually adding two candles, the shamash and then your actual night candle.
So here’s the tricky part. We add the candles right to left.
And then we light from left to right.
And that is the part you’ll second guess yourself on every year from here to eternity.
As you’re lighting, you’re gonna say the Brachot, the blessings.
There are two blessings, but on the first night there is an extra blessing, the Shehechiyanu, and I’ll link up there and down in the description below to my video about the Shehechiyanu Prayer and my inability to ever pronounce it correctly.
And in that link down in the description below, it’ll have the Brachot that you’re going to say. It’ll be an English, Hebrew, and transliteration, which is where you write the Hebrew with English letters.
Every one of those three versions counts, so read whichever one you’re able to read.
The goal is not perfect pronunciation. It’s to bring the light.
After you’re done lighting and saying the Brachot, a lot of people like to sing, especially the song Maoz Tzur, which translates to Rock of Ages. I’ll link below also to a copy of Maoz Tzur that you can listen to.
And then after the candles are lit, take a deep breath, and enjoy them. We traditionally don’t use the candles for work, which unless you are lighting your home purely with candlelight is probably not going to be an issue for you. But like don’t do your needle point sitting beside it for instance.
It’s meant for reflection and joy. Watch them flicker and dance.
Feel the little bit of warmth that they put off, and let yourself slow down.
Now the last consideration is safety. Keep your Chanukiah on a stable surface where it’s not gonna fall over obviously. Keep it at least a couple of feet away from anything flammable, especially curtains.
Be prepared if you have curious children or pets. Fluffy tails have been known to be regularly caught on fire.
And obviously never leave burning candles unattended.
There are different opinions on how long you should allow them to burn if you need to blow them out so that you can, for instance, leave. Reach out to a rabbi for guidance if it’s really that important.
You’ve done the Mitzvah of Hanukkah! You’re done if you wanna be.
Don’t worry if your candles are uneven or you said the Brachot from your phone or the cat jumped on the table halfway through.
This holiday is not about perfection. It’s about persistence.
Lighting again and again and again.
Every night you add one more flame, not because the world got darker, but because you chose to make it brighter.
So maybe you wanna do something extra.
The celebration doesn’t have to stop with the candle lighting. Here are some simple traditions you can try at home.
You can bring the holiday to life in small, joyful ways, even if you’re celebrating alone or you’re keeping things quiet this year.
So one, eat something fried. Yes, really. Foods cooked in oil remind us of the miracle of the oil and the Menorah.
Latkas (potato pancakes) and Sufganiyot (jelly donuts) are the two traditional foods, but anything fried counts.
Even frozen hash browns or a grilled cheese sandwich made with a little extra oil.
And a pro tip. The singular of the word Sufganiyot is Sufganiyah. It was years before I figured that out. You’re welcome.
The goal isn’t to impress anyone, it’s to taste joy and remember the miracle.
Two we mentioned above, singing Maoz Tzur, I don’t know how to pronounce that without singing it. Sorry guys. Or other Hanukkah songs. Singing on Hanukkah is not required, but it’s one of those little traditions that can make your home feel a little more Jewish with only a little bit of effort.
And praise be that we live in the era of YouTube, where you can find all these songs.
There are whole albums of Hanukkah music and probably no shortage of Spotify playlists either.
Some suggestions include the Maccabeats, Debbie Friedman, Neshama Carlebach, Uncle Moishe for the kids, even ” Light One Candle” by Peter, Paul, and Mary or the song “Miracle” by Matisyahu.
Number three, you’ve probably heard of: the Dreidel.
Dreidel is the Yiddish word. The Hebrew word is Sivivon.
It is a small spinning top. A classic story for the beginnings of the Dreidel is that when Jewish learning was banned under Greek rule, children used Dreidels to hide their Torah study. That’s not true. That’s a nice story.
In reality, it was a game that was played in Europe, primarily at Christmas time. It’s another example of cultural diffusion, how cultures merge and steal from each other all the time, including the Jewish culture.
The letters on the sides of a Dreidel are an acronym
Each Hebrew letter stands for the phrase ” Nes Gadol Hayah Sham,” ” a great miracle happened there.” Meaning in Israel.
In Israel, a Dreidel says, “Nes Gadol Hayah Po,” “a great miracle happened here.”
It’s traditionally a kind of gambling game of chance where each letter tells you what to do with the pot. And usually the pot is made up of, in America, gelt, chocolate coins. It can be candies, buttons, pennies, whatever you’ve got handy. You can play solo or with friends.
Speaking of Gelt, that’s number four. You can give Gelt or Tzedakah. Which maybe should be two separate things. Gelt means money. That’s a Yiddish word. And I only learned this week that apparently, uh, I met an Israeli who had never heard of Gelt as chocolate coins. I thought that was a pretty universal thing, but apparently it’s a very American thing.
At least that’s what I was told.
So we like to give children chocolate coins.
It is also traditional to give, especially children, real money. And not insignificant amounts of money either.
This Israeli that I was speaking with said that her grandfather always gave her about $30 in equivalent in Shekel.
It was a big deal.
And as with all Jewish holidays, it’s always a good idea to give Tzedakah, which translates as charity, but it actually comes from the root word of justice.
Whereas the word charity comes from a root word of heart and love. So you can kind of see a difference in how Christianity and Judaism view, how we help those who need help.
And Tzedakah doesn’t have to be money. It can also be your time. It can be donating an old coat, it could be donating to a food pantry.
It could be loaning business clothes to someone who needs to go on a job interview and doesn’t have appropriate clothing for it. Tzedakah is limitless, and it keeps the spirit of spreading light.
Five. Let’s talk about giving gifts.
Presents on Hanukah feels super normal in America. I can’t speak for the rest of the world. ’cause it’s not actually a Jewish tradition. It grew alongside of Christmas and as I mentioned in my rant above how we tried to make Hanukkah more Christmas-like, and the Jewish community tried to assimilate into larger American society. And quite frankly, the kids felt left out when all their classmates were getting presents at this time of year.
I can’t blame them.
There’s nothing wrong with giving presents if you feel like it. It can be sweet, thoughtful, and fun.
But remember that it’s not one of the Mitzvot of Hanukkah and it’s not an intrinsically Jewish practice.
It’s optional. Do it if it brings you joy. Skip it if it brings you stress.
Six, decorating. Decorating for Hanukkah is another, like “this is nice, but it’s not actually Jewish” thing.
Blue and white lights, window clings, banners. These are all modern American inventions.
Some families love creating a warm, festive vibe, and some families have always done that with decorating for just the winter season. It doesn’t have to be Hanukkah specific.
There’s nothing wrong with making your space feel special.
Just keep in mind that Jewish tradition has never required this. So if you like it, do it. If it stresses you out, skip it.
You don’t need to perform for other people on Instagram.
And then seven, you can add a mindful moment of meaning.
After lighting, you could do a short reflection or write in a journal or sing a song, as we mentioned above.
If you have kids, you can have conversations around being Jewish in a society that is not Jewish, the history, and the concept of miracles.
Eight: big parties, events, and gatherings.
This is the season when Jewish visibility spikes through the roof.
You’ll see more community events in this month than any other throughout the year. Public menorah lightings, concerts, family programs, synagogue parties, community Latke nights, Dreidel competitions, ” Jewish Heritage Night” at your local sports team. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
If joining a crowd feels nourishing, go for it. If it feels exhausting or out of reach or if it’s a real schlep to get there, it’s okay to skip it.
These gatherings are cultural add-ons, not commandments. The mitzvah happens at home.
But if this year feels quiet or lonely, you’re not doing Hanukkah wrong.
If available, you can light candles over zoom with friends and family.
Plus many synagogues and Jewish organizations stream candle lightings online nowadays.
Just because you’re physically alone doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.
And if that feels small and not “Jewish enough,” here’s the part we forget.
The first Hanukkah was celebrated by people who were rebuilding something that was destroyed, one light at a time.
The Maccabees didn’t wait for perfect conditions.
They didn’t have a choir or a crowd or enough oil, but they had faith that showing up mattered, and that was enough.
Lighting our candles at home, even alone, is part of that same tradition.
You are rededicating your space, your life, your heart, just as they rededicated the Beit HaMikdash And if you’re missing community, I want you to remember this: Jews everywhere in the world are lighting their candles too.
You may not see them, but you are part of that collective glow linked by time, memory, and mitzvah. You are part of the Jewish community across the world, and through time, both the past and the future. You are never truly alone.
Lighting even one candle, choosing light when the world feels dark, that’s the heart of Jewish life.
So wherever you are, however you’re celebrating, your light matters.
Start small, start messy. Start where you are, not where you wish you were.
That’s what the Maccabees did, and that’s still where miracles begin.
If you found this helpful, you’ll love the calm, practical resources I share every week here on this YouTube channel.
So be sure to subscribe and join my mailing list at Building a Jewish Life.com. Chag sameach!
