Here is the narrative I
was taught about the terse and enigmatic pronouncement concerning Chanukah in
the Bavli (Babylonian Talmud): The Rabbis would have preferred to have expunged
Chanukah from the Jewish liturgical lexicon and practice for two reasons:
First, because the war that Chanukah commemorates was a civil war between
assimilated Jews who were more than willing to trade their national identity
and practices to blend into the Greco-Roman world, and anti-assimilationists. Second,
the Rabbis were pacifists and abhorred the idea of celebrating even the
victorious outcome of a war. So the Rabbis chose not to tell the history of
Chanukah — according to the narrative — and instead concocted a cute little story
about a cruse of oil that miraculously lasted eight times as long as expected
to serve as a symbol of the miracle of Jewish survival. Problem is: there is no
evidence the Rabbis hated Chanukah (arguments from silence are notoriously
weak), and they were certainly not pacifists. Judaism is a peace-loving
tradition, but not a pacifistic one; there are times when fighting a war is
necessary, and there is no question that the war of the Maccabees was one of
those times.
Rather than speaking
from silence, I want to explore with you the textual legacy of our Sages and
try to explicate their wisdom for us. The passage in question comes from the masechet (tractate) Shabbat 21b. My
commentary is interpolated:
Our Rabbis taught: The commandment of
Chanukah requires one light per household; the zealous kindle a light for each
member of the household; and the extremely zealous -- Bet Shammai maintain: On
the first day eight lights are lit and thereafter they are gradually reduced
[by one each day]; but Bet Hillel say: On the first day one is lit and
thereafter they are progressively increased. Ulla said: In the West [Eretz
Yisrael] two amoraim, R. Yose b. Abin and R. Yose b. Zevida, differ concerning
this: one maintains, the reasoning of Bet Shammai is that it should correspond
to the days still to come, and that of Bet Hillel is that it shall correspond
to the days that are gone. But another maintains: Bet Shammai's reason is that
it shall correspond to the bullocks of the Festival [of Tabernacles; i.e.
Sukkot], while Bet Hillel's reason is that we increase in matters of sanctity
but do not reduce. Rabbah b. Bar Hana
said: There are two old men in Sidon: one did as Bet Shammai and the other as
Bet Hillel: the former gave the reason of his action that it should correspond
to the bullocks of the Festival, while the latter stated his reason because we
promote in [matters of] sanctity but do not reduce.
The choice between
increasing lights (Bet Hillel) and decreasing lights (Bet Shammai) mirrors our
sense of holiness: are we looking back at what was but is now lost, or to the
future and what can be?
The argument between the
schools of Hillel and Shammai — one among dozens in the Talmud — concerns the
mechanics of lighting the chanukkiah
(Chanukah menorah). The reason for their different schema is what is important,
and the more significant difference is the anonymous opinion given last: For
Bet Shammai the candles mirror the Sukkot sacrifices that would have been made
at the appropriate time in the Temple had not the Syrians overrun and defiled
it.
Why Sukkot sacrifices?
By the time the Israelites reclaimed the Temple, it had been three years since the
Jews had been able to bring sacrifices. Sukkot was the most recent festival
they had missed (nearly 2-½ months before). The Sukkot sacrifices were
crucially important both because of the expressions of thanksgiving for the
harvest expressed during Sukkot, and also because of the prayers for winter
rain that commence during Sukkot in the Land of Israel would hopefully insure a
robust harvest in the coming year.
For Bet Hillel, the
candles are about holiness, not sacrifices. The Syrians threatened the entire
Jewish enterprise. Had they succeeded, Israel — like so many other small
Semitic nations at the time — would have been wiped from the map, if not from
history. Were that to have happened, the Jewish mission would have ended then
and there. A tradition that teaches the sanctity of every human being, and the
spiritual value of sanctifying time, events, and relationships — and
ultimately, everything — would have
been lost.
By the time this passage
was written in Babylonia, the destruction of the Second Temple had happened
several centuries before. For the Rabbis who recount the disagreement between
the Schools of Hillel and Shammai, the Temple is long gone, and although they
prayed and longed for its rebuilding, and composed prayers and structured
prayer services to replace the
sacrifices, they understood their true situation: the Temple will not be
rebuilt for a long time. In favoring Hillel’s scheme, the Rabbis chose to identify
the candles with the Temple lamps and ner
tamid, symbols of the eternal relationship between God and Israel, rather
than with sacrifices of the past. The message of the candles points ahead to the
Jewish People’s future and Judaism’s purpose rather than back. We increase in sanctity; we don’t decrease. Judaism,
they are telling us, is not an ancient relic; it is a living, breathing,
vibrant tradition that teaches us to bring holiness into the world, and carries
us through whatever the future brings our way. The Rabbis thereby transform
Chanukah from a festival of nostalgia into a celebration of the holiness we can
yet bring into the world in the future.
Our Rabbis taught: It is incumbent to
place the Chanukah lamp by the door of one's house on the outside; if one
dwells in an upper chamber, place it at the window nearest the street. But in
times of danger it is sufficient to place it on the table. Raba said: Another
lamp is required for its light to be used; yet if there is a blazing fire it is
unnecessary. But in the case of an important person, even if there is a blazing
fire another lamp is required.
Placing a
chanukkiah in the window publicizes the miracle of Chanukah — reminding
everyone of the crucial importance of religious freedom. We need religious
freedom now as much as ever.
Allen D. Hertzke writes
in The Future of Religious Freedom:
Global Challenges (Oxford University Press, 2013, p. 292): “I divide
civilizations into two groups: open civilizations and closed civilizations. An
open civilization does not see itself as the only civilization. It respects
other civilizations and supports a world order where multiple civilizations can
coexist. In contrast, a closed civilization sees itself as the only true
civilization and tries to eliminate all other cultures to establish a world
order with a single dominant civilization.” The Hellenists constructed a closed
civilization. They outlawed Shabbat, circumcision, and kashrut in their quest to
expunge Jewish particularity from their empire.
Religious freedom is
crucial for an open civilization and only an open civilization can guarantee
human rights and support democracy. The crucial importance of religious freedom
cannot be overstated. Placing the chanukkiah
— with its attention-getting flames blazing in the darkness — in a visible, public
location, trumpets the message of religious freedom.
Peter, Paul, and Mary
got it right in “Light One Candle,” their beautiful tribute to Chanukah. Here
is the first verse:
Light
one candle for the Maccabee children
With thanks their light didn't die;
Light one candle for the pain they endured
When their right to exist was denied;
Light one candle for the terrible sacrifice
Justice and freedom demand;
And light one candle for the wisdom to know
That the peacemaker's time is at hand!
The Rabbis give us the
barest and briefest summary of the history of the war.
What is the reason for Chanukah? For our
Rabbis taught: On the 25th of Kislev begin the days of Chanukah, which are
eight, during which lamentation for the dead and fasting are forbidden. For
when the Greeks entered the Temple, they defiled all the oils in it, and when
the Hasmonean dynasty prevailed against and defeated them, they [the
Hasmoneans] searched and found only one cruse of oil which possessed the seal
of the High Priest, but which contained sufficient oil for only one day's
lighting; yet a miracle occurred there and they lit [the lamp] for eight days.
The following year these days were appointed a Festival with the recitation of
Hallel and thanksgiving.
The
Maccabees did not choose particularity over universalism; they combined the
two. Jewish vibrancy, dynamism, and success require careful and thoughtful
compromise: we cannot live alone and apart from the rest of the world, but
neither should we absorb practices and values that dilute the best of Jewish
ethics and spirituality. Our goal should be to absorb the best of the wisdom
available and adapt it to Jewish tradition.
The Syrians
defiled the Temple, the most sacred place in the world for Jews. They tore down
the altar, splattered pig’s blood around, and desecrated scrolls of Torah. They
erected a statue of Zeus in the Temple precinct. We might think that after such
desecration, the Temple could never be redeemed, purified, and sanctified
again. But it was. The Maccabees cleaned it out and rededicated the Temple to
God; the word Chanukah means
“dedication.” The Temple’s purity was restored. The sacred can be defiled, but
it remains sacred. A Torah scroll that is pasul
(damaged and unusable) does not lose its sanctity; it is buried in sanctified
ground, not thrown away. The redemption of the Temple teaches us that we should
not regard anything and especially anyone — including ourselves — as beyond
redemption. It’s a message we need to hear again and again.
Finally,
the Rabbis mention the Hasmoneans, the dynasty that arose from the Maccabees. In
the narrative I learned about Chanukah, they were the “true Jewish heroes” who
adhered rigorously to Jewish observance, while others were eager to shed it.
Therefore, the Maccabees fought not only the Syrians, but also assimilationist
Jews allied with the Hellenists. Shades of a civil war. Peter, Paul, and Mary
allude to this aspect of Chanukah, as well:
Light one candle for the strength that we need
To never become our own foe;
Light one candle for those who are suff'ring
A pain they learned so long ago;
Light one candle for all we believe in,
That anger not tear us apart;
And light one candle to bind us together
With peace as the song in our heart!
And
indeed, we find ourselves today in a situation where segments of the Jewish community
deride, devalue, and invalidate others.
However,
it is an over-simplification to view the struggle of the Maccabees as being between
assimilationist Jews and anti-assimilationist Jews, as if it were all or
nothing. That is not historical reality. The Maccabees were neither fully
particularistic, nor were they entirely universalistic; they understood the
need for balance. Jewish survival requires a compromise between particularism (in
the extreme case, clinging to our culture and traditions and shunning all else)
and universalism (in the extreme case, swinging the doors wide open and
jettisoning everything that is identifiably Jewish). When we bless the Torah at
a public reading, we say …she-na-ta b’tocheinu
cha-yei olam / Who has implanted
within us eternal life. I
don’t think this has anything to do with notions of spiritual immortality; I understand
this to mean that we, the Jewish People, are eternal. We have survived, and
will continue to not only survive but also flourish, because we have adopted
and adapted the best of our host cultures, while maintaining our particular
traditions and values.
The
use of power is a dicey — and unavoidable — component for the survival of a
nation. The question is not whether, but how, power is employed.
Liturgically,
Chanukah is acknowledged by reciting Hallel and expanding Modim. In addition, a special Haftarah from the book of the prophet
Zechariah is designated for the shabbat during Chanukah. Zechariah was among
those who, after the Babylonian destruction of 586 B.C.E., under the patronage
of Cyrus the Mede, king of Persia, rebuilt the Temple. The passage we read
(2:14–4:7) opens with a pronouncement of God’s promise to return to Zion (as
God “returned” to the rededicated Temple) and describes the preparation and
purification of the High Priest (mirroring the cleaning and purifying of the
Temple). The prophet’s vision of the Temple menorah signals the chanukkiah. The Rabbis left us one more
salient message by the choice of this Haftarah, which includes these words:
Not by might, and not by power,
but by My spirit — said the Lord of Hosts. (4:6)
The single
cruse of oil, like the candles we kindle in our chanukkiot, represent not raw human power, grit, and determination,
but human strength powered by God’s glory. If we operate from a place that
exalts human power alone, every manner of atrocity and horror can and probably
will result. But if we operate from a place of God’s spirit — holding close
God’s presence in our hearts and minds — then if and when we have to go to war,
we will do what we must, but no more. And when we don’t need to go to war, we
will avoid it, and at all times pursue peace. Today’s Israeli army is the
finest example of a military guided by ethics. No other country discusses,
investigates, and worries more about the behavior of its military. Here are a
few things to read:
Let’s let
Peter, Paul, and Mary close out this drash.
What
is the memory that's valued so highly
That we keep it alive in that flame?
What's the commitment to those who have died?
We cry out "they've not died in vain,"
We have come this far, always believing
That justice will somehow prevail;
This is the burden, This is the promise,
This is why we will not fail!
Don't
let the light go out,
It's lasted for so many years!
Don't let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears!
You can
see and hear Peter, Paul and Mary singing “Light One Candle” here.
Happy
Chanukah!
© Rabbi
Amy Scheinerman
