menorah – Jewish Relationships Initiative

Fess up– Hanukkah is the Jewish Christmas!

Before I continue, I will let those of you gasping for air catch your breath.

Yes, indeed, the rabbi went there! But it is hard to refute the statement. And you know what else? It is okay.

Here in the United States, we have thought longingly of the Christmas portrayed ironically by Irving Berlin- replete with a white (from the snow, that is) Christmas with cards, sleigh bells, and glistening trees. The Coca-Cola Santa Claus brings presents to everyone traveling on a flying sleigh powered by eight reindeer (nine including Rudolph), Christmas Trees, gifts, love, and good cheer. Of course, once the marketers got hold of this, they commercialized the holiday even further. Everyone who ever sang anything now records an album of Christmas songs or has a television Christmas special.

Who wouldn’t want to be a part of this party?

So we have amped up Hanukkah, a minor yet complicated holiday, not even part of the Jewish Bible. Our Acceptance in this country is the great miracle of our time. And if we could place the menorah in the window without fear of retribution, what else might we enjoy? The secularized Christmas is at the center of the American holiday season, bounded by Thanksgiving and New Year’s.

So we are in full bloom- we have Hanukkah bushes, lights of blue and white to decorate the house, and latkes and sufganiyot are now things in the American public space! Giant menorahs are lit alongside the Christmas trees, eclipsing the simple manger scenes of the holiday’s religious roots. It is a mash-up of the best our traditions have to offer, and we all join together in the kind of unity we could only pray might somehow extend to all the other days of the year (either 364 if you are Christian or 357 if you are Jewish).

They say competition is a good thing. And arguably, Hanukkah is a bigger, better celebration because of Christmas.

Let us wish everyone Happy Holidays and a year of bounty and joy. Let us thank God for bringing us to a time when our lights can burn brightly, and we can be with our brothers and sisters; whatever their faith traditions, we are together here in the United States.

Shine into the Darkness, The Message we mean to send

“ I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant” ― Alan Greenspan

Last week I went to the White House to meet with the Special Assistant to the President with the JCRC and Women’s Philanthropy Division of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia. Respectfully but rather forcefully we advocated for our concerns over the issues of DACA, Gun Violence, BDS, Anti-Semitism, and SNAP. I know we did not change the administration’s opinion, but we gave voice inside the halls of power to our values. Sometimes we do not do speak constructively and what we think we are saying is not the message heard. There is an important example of this making its way around social media.

An anonymous rabbi is attributed as responding to a White House request for a Menorah with a rebuff saying that the current administration is antithetical to everything the holiday and menorah represent, so their menorah is not available.

I believe this message does not take the moral high ground, and instead sounds preachy and filled with a self-righteous arrogance that makes dialogue impossible. The story resonates only for those who already believe it. But for everyone else, the message is negative, generating pushback and defiance, not a moment of teaching and potential rapprochement.

Those of us who believe that the current administration undermines important Jewish values need to speak truth to power but to do so respectful of the institution and with the hope of carrying the message to not merely protest, but to hopefully persuade.

We are obligated to reach out to those with whom we disagree. Through building relationships and dialogue we might give insights and change viewpoints. We also are empowered to champion our causes publicly and we vote. These are sacred and important parts of what makes this an extraordinary country.

The only way our light will illuminate is if we cast it into the dark.

A Hanukkah of Darkness

We enter Hanukkah from a place of deep darkness. I write this as the remains of the city of Aleppo are reduced to rubble. The people are trapped inside, with death raining down on them from above. The similarity to the gas chambers of the Shoah is unmistakable.

We have watched as this modern mass murder unfolds. I reluctantly refrain from the word Genocide, as it would ignite a conversation about the word rather than cold look at the harsh reality of the death and destruction that is occurring, where innocent civilians are being systematically destroyed. But the word resonates for me nonetheless. What are the lessons of the Shoah?

We must ask ourselves what is our role in the world. This question is for us as Americans and for us as Jews. It is too late for the remnant of Syria however. The United States provided some support to the political opposition of the Regime and we have provided limited aid to those who have escaped. But we have failed to protect the innocents, permitting the most brutal weapons of mass murder to exterminate. Hundreds of thousands have been killed; the savage death machine indiscriminate, women, children, and aid workers are victims as well as political opponents. The United States’ opportunities to assert itself as a provider of sanctuary either here or there have been squandered. A modern holocaust has occurred as we watched.

What did we learn from the Shoah? Was it merely a particular tragedy to befall the Jewish people? Wasn’t the Shoah also supposed to be a lesson to the world that “Never Again” was a cry to universal humanity? Sadly in the face of the Syrian crisis, we turned away, as the world turned away from the Jewish people in our time of greatest despair. I am overcome by the realization of all that we did not do, of all that I did not do.

Hanukkah is supposed to celebrate the light of freedom and God’s miracles. But they came in that order. The Jews wondrously won the improbable victory, and then the lights of the Menorah miraculously lasted for eight days. The miracle of the oil could only have happened after the people fought to overcome the injustice of the world where they lived. Sadly I think we did not merit God’s miracle this time. Let us use this coming year to commit ourselves to that most basic Jewish value; that we will no longer stand idly by while our neighbor’s blood is being shed.

Amen.