The Spirit of Chanukah
By Rabbi Yair Robinson, Congregation Beth Emeth
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As we approach Chanukah this year, we may be spending some time thinking about the story of the holiday, especially the centrality of conflict and—in this time of (hopefully still) cease-fire in Israel but also profound disagreement in our own country—how to transform it. Conflict is, of course, part of the human condition; there’s no way to avoid it. As human beings, at some point we’re going to have a difference of opinion or experience that’s going to cause us to be in conflict with one another.
But can conflict be productive? Can there be learning that emerges from it? And can it be transformational for all the parties involved, moving enemies to friends, and conflict to peace?
This may seem like a strange topic for Chanukah. Mistaken as the Jewish Christmas because it takes place in the winter and is celebrated with lights, Chanukah commemorates the victory of a group of Jews—the Hasmoneans, sometimes called the Maccabees—over the Assyrian Greeks more than two thousand years ago. The Assyrian Greeks, we learn, banned ritual circumcision, the observance of the Sabbath, and the study of Torah, and tried to turn the Jewish people to idolators. Mattathias, his son Judah Maccabee, and others fought back and were able to rededicate the temple (the word Chanukah means ‘to dedicate’) on the 25th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev and may-or-may-not have celebrated Sukkot late as a result. Hence, an eight-day festival in the dead of winter.
Of course, that’s not the whole story. The Chanukah we celebrate is a very American holiday, and I don’t just mean about the presents. Born of a violent overthrow of colonial tyranny, we use it to commemorate the fight for religious freedom and liberty, a story that should sound familiar to any student of American history. I often describe Chanukah as Jewish Thanksgiving plus July 4th rolled into one. When you know the story, and (pardon the pun) cast it in that light, you can see why everyone—Jews and non-Jews alike—wants to get a selfie lighting the lights of the Menorah. Not found in any biblical book the Jews preserved, while the Catholics kept the books of the Maccabees, they are considered apocryphal and weren’t read by Jews. It commemorates human beings triumphing violently over other human beings without divine intervention. And it celebrates a 25-year long war where the casualties were innumerable. Perhaps it was this reason that the rabbis of old—themselves reeling from two uprisings against Rome that ended in defeat and tragedy—excluded the story of Maccabean battlefield exploits and instead lifted up the story we know so well, of the cruze of oil lasting eight days—a sign of God’s intervention more in keeping with the words of the book of Zachariah, the Haftarah for Chanukah: “not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit, says The Eternal God.” (Zachariah 4:6)
As I said earlier, conflict seems inevitable in our day and age. It seems all the time that it’s easier to go to war than to make peace, easier to stand in opposition than to find compromise, easier to yell than to listen. But I would suggest there may be another way. In the Talmud, in tractate Rosh Hashanah (19a if you want to look it up), we have this report: On the 28th of the month of Adar came glad tidings to the Jews that they should not abandon the practice of Torah. For the Roman government had issued a decree that they should not study the Torah and that they should not circumcise their sons and that they should profane the Sabbath (that is, the same circumstances as the story of Chanukah). What did they do? They went and consulted a certain Roman noblewoman whom all the Roman notables used to visit. She said to them: “Come and demonstrate at nighttime. Scream out in the marketplaces and in the streets in order that the ministers should hear and have compassion on you.” They went and demonstrated at night, saying, “In heaven’s name, are we not your brothers and sisters? Are we not the children of one parent? Why are we different from every nation and tongue that you issue such decrees upon us?” The decrees were thereupon cancelled.
My teacher, Rabbi Daniel Roth, asks the question based on this story whether the Hasmoneans could have achieved their goals through nonviolent demonstrations instead of a bloody war? It’s a good and important question, especially now in a time of deep conflict and sometimes animosity between people. For the Jews to say: “are we not your brothers and sisters,” and remind the non-Jews in their midst what was in common, for them to find an ally who could help de-escalate the situation, and take to the streets is just as brave, if not braver, than sallying forth to violent conflict. That going out and declaring our common humanity can be more effective than declaring everyone our enemy. And that, as we light our lights of rededication this year, we may focus not just on physical strength, but spiritual strength, as well as our obligation to spread that light especially in dark places. And, even in this time of discord, we can allow the lights of Chanukah to help us transform conflict into connection, and enemy to friend.
