What Is Our Chanukah? Why did I celebrate Chanukah as a reform Jew for 25 years? Why do non-Orthodox Jews, celebrate Chanukah at all? It completely undermines everything they stand for.
Chanukah was about some classic, good versus evil fight. We were outnumbered, and miraculously enough, we won. Somehow, that was tied to some amount of oil that was only supposed to last one day and miraculously enough lasted eight days.
But that’s not what it’s about. Chanukah is about being with your family, spinning dreidel, eating potato latkes, singing new-age Chanukah music with tunes comparable to Christmas carols, and of course giving and receiving just enough presents to out-do the Christmas shoppers. Right? Isn’t this why Chanukah is the most-anticipated holiday in modern Judaism? Isn’t this why so many Jewish kids in the US grow up wishing the oil had lasted even more days—so they could get even more presents?
As I got older I tried to block out the commercialization of the holiday and focus on what it meant to me—being with my family.
Do we really need a holiday to be with our family? Do we really need an excuse to be together? What about Chanukah made it so special? If you look at every official US holiday, including Chanukah and Christmas, Valentine’s Day, etc. you will notice a pattern. They all share the same basic foundation: being with friends, family, and loved ones. That’s besides all the gift exchange, commercialization at the root of all the holidays. So isn’t Chanukah the same? Isn’t the whole point to have a holiday near Christmas so Jews wouldn’t feel left out?
Ironically enough, it couldn’t be more the opposite. Now, for my first time ever, I have celebrated Chanukah in Israel, in Jerusalem. And after 25 years of celebrating Chanukah in a reform Jewish household, in a secular environment, I am finally beginning to understand and appreciate what the holiday is truly about.
Our Story
The name "Chanukah" derives from the Hebrew verb "חנך", meaning "to dedicate" or “to consecrate.” On Chanukah, the Jews regained control of Jerusalem and rededicated the Temple. So what? What’s the significance? As Rabbi Meir Kahane explains (in one of his less-controversial articles):
What happened in that era more than 2000 years ago? What led a handful
of Jews to rise up in violence against the enemy? And precisely who
was the enemy? What were they fighting for and who were they fighting
against?
For years the people of Judea had been the vassals of Greece. True
independence as a state had been unknown for all those decades and,
yet, the Jews did not rise in revolt. It was only when the Greek
policy shifted from mere political control to one that attempted to
suppress the Jewish religion that the revolt erupted in all its
bloodiness.
When the Temple, the Holiest of Holies, in Jerusalem was looted and desecrated, and the services stopped, Judaism was effectively outlawed. To make matters worse, in 167 BCE Greek leader Antiochus ordered an altar to Zeus be erected in the Temple—an idol to be erected in the heart of the Jews’ Holiest site. He banned circumcision and ordered pigs to be sacrificed at the altar of the temple.
In the book, “A History of the Jewish People” authors Max Margolis and Alexander Marx outline the chain of events:
[The Greeks] entered [Jerusalem] on a Sabbath. The unresisting inhabitants were butchered; the soldiers pillaged at will and carried off women and children to be sold as slaves.
They add that the Greeks demolished the walls of Jerusalem. They then found favor in the “apostate Jews,” who supported the Greek’s destruction and outlaw of Judaism, and assimilated them, moving them to live with non-Jewish residents so they would inter-marry and lose, piece by piece, their Jewish heritage.
A royal edict was proclaimed suspending the practice of the Jewish religion on pain of death. […The Greeks commanded] the fusion of all nationalities in the realm into one people and the acceptance of the Greek religion by all. […] It was unlawful for anyone to keep the Sabbath and festivals ordained in the Torah, or to profess himself at all to be a Jew. Torah scrolls were [torn] in pieces and burned; their owners were put to death. Women, who had their children circumcised, were led publicly round about the city and then cast headlong from the walls. Eleazar, an aged teacher, who refused to eat swine’s flesh, was tortured to death. A group of pious people who had fled to a cave near Jerusalem in order to keep Sabbath secretly were surprised and committed to the flames; they chose to die rather than to desecrate the Sabbath by offering resistance.
[The Greek leaders’] idea had been to liberalize [and reform] Judaism and to meet Greek culture half way.
Antiochus' actions proved to be a grave mistake as they were massively disobeyed, provoking a large-scale revolt. Mattathias, a Jewish priest, and his five sons Jochanan, Simeon, Eleazar, Jonathan, and Judah led a rebellion against Antiochus. Judah became known as Yehuda HaMakabi ("Judah the Hammer"). By 166 BCE Mattathias had died, and Judah took his place as leader. Starting with small victories and a company of 1,150 men, Judah grew support and beat the 47,000 enemy troops with only 3,000 men. By 165 BCE the Jewish revolt was successful. The Temple was liberated and rededicated.
[Rabbi Meir Kahane continues] It was not mere liberty that led to the Maccabean uprising
that we so passionately applaud. What we are really cheering is a
brave group of Jews who fought and plunged Judea into a bloodbath for
the right to observe the Sabbath, to follow the laws of kashrut, to
obey the laws of the Torah. In a world where everything about Hanukah
that we commemorate, and teach our children to commemorate, are things
we consider to be outmoded, medieval and childish!
["Down with Hanukah," Rabbi Meir Kahane, 12/15/1972.]
According to the Talmud, at the re-dedication following the victory of the Maccabees over the Seleucid Empire, there was only enough consecrated olive oil to fuel the eternal flame in the Temple for one day. Miraculously, the oil burned for eight days, which was the length of time it took to press, prepare and consecrate fresh olive oil. The eternal flame kept burning.
Why did the miracle of the oil last us eight days? One thought is that the number eight has special significance in Judaism. It represents transcendence and the Jewish People's special role in human history. Seven is the number of days that Hashem created the universe. Eight, being one step beyond seven, represents the Infinite. Bris milah brings a Jewish male into the sacred Covenant and is performed on the eighth day after birth.
What do we make of all this? How is Chanukah relevant to us today?
Our Lesson
Greek society at the time was the epitome of Hedonism. Greeks lived for the physical. Their deities, sacrifices, and subsequent lifestyle were surrounded by self-indulgence, sensuality, and physical pleasures. As such, Greek way of life clashed on a fundamental level with Jewish life. While Judaism does not ignore the physical world, it recognizes that physical things have their place; but they can only exist in relation to the spiritual world, not in place of it. Furthermore, our role as Jews is to “mkadesh” the physical world; to sanctify and make holy the physical world and to bring out the holiness that is already within the physical world. By sanctifying the physical world, we are able to connect with its source, our Creator.
The Greeks were rational people and we have all certainly benefited a great deal from their wisdom. But the Greeks also were a people who believed only in what they could see, touch, and feel. They had no concept of a spiritual world because they denied anything existing beyond the physical world. They were so closed-minded that they refused to accept anything that was not physically there. They could not comprehend the intangible. How did they know love, sorrow, and happiness, which are also intangible?
If we take the same approach and deny spirituality, and if we cannot connect the physical with the spiritual, we become completely cut-off from our spiritual source. And if we are completely cut-off from our source due to this self-indulgence, what becomes of us? We disappear.
The Jews who revolted against the Greek oppression knew this. They knew that if they gave into Hedonistic pleasures, they would lose their connection with spirituality. When a Jew loses his spiritual connection, he loses his identity as a Jew and becomes nothing more than a physical being with no purpose.
Our Identity
When the Greeks came to rule over the Jews, they had a vision of liberalizing Judaism. They began creating reforms to Judaism. The assimilation began with forcing Jews to learn Greek and continued with trying to instill Greek philosophies and cultural practices. The Greeks saw the strength of the Jewish identity, and while Jews were a small minority, our unique identity and spiritual connection posed a threat to the Greek concept of assimilation. The Greeks brought reforms to Judaism, and little by little they tried to take away the Jewish heritage and kill the Jewish identity. The Greeks were clever. They were aware that the way to eliminate a people is not to wage war—that only bonds the people together—rather they knew that if they could disconnect the Jews from the spiritual world, and gradually take away our religion, our ethics, our laws, our practices, our Torah, and our identity, there would be nothing left.
Is this not what is happening today, particularly in the US? There are clearly no forced reforms to Judaism—certainly not as there were with the Greeks. We are reforming on our own volition, and that is even worse. There is no oppressor threatening us to eat pig meat or die, no tyrannical laws forcing us to marry non-Jews, no army burning our Torah, no militia murdering us for observing Shabbat. And yet we are willing to give this up voluntarily. Is this not our identity?
We have survived as a people from generation to generation. We have survived the Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians, the Nazis, and endless terrorist attacks. Israel’s mere existence is a miracle considering that it is surrounded by 21 Arab countries, with a total land mass 800 times the size of the Land of Israel, all of which live for the day they can wipe us off the map.
The only saving grace that has kept us from falling at the hands of the generations of oppressors has been our strong “emunah” (faith) and our allegiance to ourselves, to our People, and to our Jewish identity. The moment we stray off our destined path, we lose a part of ourselves. And for how long will we keep straying, until we reach the point of no return?
Our Dedication
Chanukah comes from the verb “to dedicate” because we recognized that our only way to survive as a people is to dedicate ourselves to our destiny, our Divine purpose. Our only chance of survival as a people is to maintain our identity; to perform the mitzvot, learn Torah, keep Kosher, keep Shabbat, and pass this on to our children.
For whatever reason, we are losing our identity, little by little, every day. We aren’t keeping Kosher because it’s “too expensive.” We aren’t keeping Shabbat because we’re “too busy.” We aren’t learning Torah because “it’s not practical.” We aren’t marrying fellow Jews because “it’s not a big deal.” Put simply, it’s just too hard.
Of course it’s hard! We’re Jewish! If being Jewish were easy it wouldn’t take several years just to prepare to convert. But that is what is unique about us as a people. We have such strong “emunah” (faith) that we push ourselves to do the impossible (like defeat 47,000 troops with only 3,000 men). We know that if we try our hardest, and give every ounce of our being, everything else will work out. Jews have made major contributions in every industry of every society we have ever lived in. We have overcome generations of persecution with a positive outlook. Instead of using oppression of our people as an excuse for failure, or preaching against those who discriminate against us, we use it to look at our own failures introspectively, find what we can improve upon, and use it as a fire to push our People further, to achieve more for ourselves and for all of humanity. Is it a coincidence that Jews comprise of less than half a percent of the world population and yet one fifth of all Nobel Prize Laureates are Jews?
It is statistically impossible and historically improbable that such a minute minority of the world population could not only survive but thrive for several thousand years, as we have done. We have outlived all the great empires. How is it, that such an insignificant population has been capable of such significant milestones? It all goes back to our identity as a people, our service to Hashem, and our divine purpose.
We are different from all people. And we can’t deny that. Denying our identity and our uniqueness is what has caused us all our troubles. The only thing that has preserved our heritage to this point has been when righteous Jews who stood up for what we believe in. Look at the miracle of Chanukah. Those who studied Torah were put to death, those who performed Bris Millah were put to death; there were even those who fled the city to observe Shabbat in caves, and, when confronted by Greeks, preferred to be slaughtered rather than break Shabbat by fighting back in defense. They showed the rest of “Am Israel” (the Jewish People) how important our heritage is and how nobody can take it from us but ourselves.
The amount of courage and devotion of our People is unfathomable. Jews have sacrificed their lives, l’dor v’dor (from generation to generation) all for the sake of keeping our Jewish faith and identity intact—so that we could one day inherit this rich blessing of a Birthright, and all the challenges that follow, in its pure form, its true form; as it was meant to be. For only through this will we remain bonded and intact in the face of oppression.
Our Purpose
The same verb, "חנך", also means “to educate.” It is our duty to educate our children about who we are and our purpose in life. That means marrying Jews, raising our children as Jews, and most importantly, teaching them what it means to be a true Jew. What we are experiencing today is a watered-down version of something really amazing, and the more we water it down with each generation, the more we lose; and once we lose it completely we won’t be able to get it back.
We can’t be liberal with our identity and our duty; especially not for the sake of assimilation. We can’t be like everyone else and we shouldn’t try to be—because we’re not. We have to be a light unto the nations. We have an incredibly profound key to understanding the universe, called Torah, which teaches much more than “halacha” (law), “mussar” (ethics), and “middot” (character development). The Torah’s legal system not only guides proper outward behavior, it also sets standards for emotional and psychological behavior. We have a duty to teach these values to our children, and our children’s children. How can we help the rest of the world if we can’t first help ourselves?
Our Soul
We have a Jewish neshama (soul), and it begs truth. The idea of “Jewish guilt” has nothing to do with guilt. It is a reflection of our “mussar” (ethics). When we do something we know is wrong, the feeling of guilt is just our neshama wanting truth, begging us to do what we know in our heart is right.
We want to act like everyone else, even though our neshama wants something greater. Do we really want to glorify, with blind adoration, cars, houses, musicians, Hollywood, athletes, and sports teams, like everyone else? Do we really want life to be about money, work, and “living large,” like everyone else? Do we really want to celebrate the same holidays as everyone else? Do we really want to feel fine with the same loose morals as everyone else? Do we really want to deny ourselves spirituality, like everyone else? Do we avoid talking about G-d, like everyone else, for the fear of sounding overzealous or evangelical? Do we really want to believe in only the tangible, like everyone else? Do we really want to be satisfied with the status quo like everyone else? Do we want what’s normal and accepted, for the sake of seeming normal and accepted? Do we really want to be satisfied with superficial relationships and friendships?
Why do we subject ourselves to emotionally scarring relationships and friendships, and morally damaging movies, television, music, and video games, for the sake of joining everyone else? Do we really want to believe that “doing the right thing” is good enough for being a good person? Why do we settle for less when we know we should be constantly searching for deeper meaning in every aspect of our lives? Do we really want to throw-out age-old traditions for new-age “innovations?”
We can’t assimilate into this kind of life because it’s not healthy, it’s not meaningful, and it’s not true to who we are. We have something much deeper than these superficial behaviors. We have a Jewish neshama, soul. We’re not made of the same essence as everyone else. Essence also means fuel. If we speak of essence and fuel as oil, it can be described as a slimy liquid that creates more mess and hassle than benefit. Oil by itself, as a physical entity, amounts to nothing. Just like the Hedonistic society of the Greeks, where the only purpose for life was for physical pleasure, oil too in a pure physical form on its own amounts to nothing. But when we place a wick in the oil and light the wick, we create a beautiful flame. When we connect the physical world with the spiritual world, we can create something beautiful through a relationship with its source. The entire nature of fire is creating something from nothing, and furthermore, creating something that is constantly connected to its source.
And even in the coldest, darkest nights of winter we light the menorah and sing hopeful songs that lift our spirits. Each night of Chanukah I spent here in Jerusalem waseye-opening and life-altering. Why should we assimilate? Why should we settle for a culture that promotes lust, violence, commercialization, and greed far more often than love, happiness, ethics, morals, dignity, honesty, righteousness, education, and spirituality? We have a rich heritage that provides deep meaning in every aspect of life. Why take a watered-down version of life when we can connect straight to the source?
Our Essence
When the Greeks tried to assimilate the Jews, it wouldn’t have worked because we are not of the same essence. We knew we were made of a unique essence when we had oil that was only meant to last one night and yet it lasted eight nights. Just when we thought hope was lost, in the midst of Greek assimilation, Jewish apostates, and the desecration of our holy Temple; just when we thought our people would be wiped off the map, erased from the Book of Life; just when we thought our eternal flame would be extinguished forever; the faithful few rallied, with trust in G-d and strength, courage and strong resolve in what it meant to be a Jew, they fought for their right to survive. They fought for our right to continue our rich tradition of creating a better world for ourselves and for everyone. The miracle of Chanukah showed what just a little Jewish essence can do. And we saw that oil burn for eight days instead of one, giving us time for a renewal of essence before the eternal flame went out.
It is time that we each renew our essence before our People’s eternal flame burns out. Chanukah isn’t about the latkes, the dreidels, or the presents. In the absence of a volatile oppressor we have been oppressing ourselves by assimilating in a Hedonistic society and forgetting about the spiritual essence that helps connect us to our source. We Jews represent more than that simple oil; we represent the wick and the flame as well.
Our Chanukah
Chanukah is about seeing past the self-indulgences and instant gratifications of the physical world. It is about finding something more lasting. Realize that everything physical expires at some point or another, but that which is spiritual is eternal.
This Chanukah let’s forget the commercialization and shallowness of pop-culture. Let’s focus on doing at least one thing to strengthen our Jewish identity; maybe it’s keeping Shabbat, maybe it’s keeping Kosher, maybe it’s keeping up with the weekly Torah portion and letting it enrich our life. Though we have assimilated more than the Greeks could have ever dreamed, we can nevertheless maintain a strong, true Jewish identity (by observing the mitzvahs) without removing ourselves from society.
Chanukah is about transcending. It is about dedicating ourselves to our true purpose in life. It is about educating each generation and following something much more valuable and meaningful than society’s status quo. It is about having strong emunah and being loyal to our Jewish neshama. It is about keeping an eternal light, even in the darkest, coldest days of winter. No matter how hard it is for us to be who we are, to keep the mitzvahs, to keep Shabbat, to keep Kosher, to be ethical, righteous, and have faith in G-d and in ourselves. We have to, because otherwise what is the purpose of being Jewish?
