Beth Shalom
Oceanside Jewish Center

My colleague and friend at the Midway Jewish Center, Rabbi Raffi Rank, recently suggested to his congregation that given the proximity of Chanukah and Thanksgiving this year, we ought to dip our latkes in cranberry sauce instead of apple sauce. I can't remember an occasion in recent years when these two holidays came out so close together. As a result we found ourselves doing something quintessentially Jewish the other day. We pondered whether the reason for this phenomena is that Thanksgiving is too late or maybe Chanukah is too early. Our holidays, after all, never occur at the right time: they're early or they're late.

Whichever it is (and I suspect it's a little bit of both) the Thanksgiving-Chanukah connection ought to give us reason to consider the nature of God's presence in our lives. While Thanksgiving and Chanukah are only distantly connected (one is the pilgrim's version of Sukkot while the other marks the belated observance of the same Biblical holiday after the Temple was rededicated in 167 BCE), it seems to me that these holidays represent two types of miracles.

Thanksgiving is a celebration of the everyday blessings in life. The Pilgrims, having survived their first year in a new land, sat down to celebrate the bounty with which God had blessed them at the end of the harvest. The very fact that they had lived through the year in the wilds of the new world was reason enough to give thanks to their Creator. For the Pilgrims, the earth had yielded its bounty and this was nothing less than a miracle.

As Jews we mark this type of miracle not once a year but every time we sit down to a meal by reciting a berachah and by giving thanks for the blessings that are all around us. In the daily Amida which we say, "We thank and praise you....for all the miracles which are with us every evening, morning, and afternoon." Think about that statement....There is no time in our lives which is not graced with a miracle. What's more, we learn that miracles don't necessarily have to be miraculous.

Chanukah marks a different type of miracle. It marks those rare occurrences when we witness God's intervention in history. "Nes gadol hayah sham," we say, "A great miracle happened." During the week of Chanukah we recite Al Hanisim and thank God, "For the miracles and the salvation which occurred for our ancestors in other days and in our time."

We tell the story of a small cruse of oil that burned for eight days. We speak of the splitting of the Red Sea. And even if we're not quite sure that it happened exactly the way it's described in the Bible, we recognize the basic truth of these stories. When we look back at our history we recognize that there have been moments when we were keenly aware of God's presence our lives. From the Exodus to the founding of the State of Israel we have been able to say, time and again, great miracles has occurred. That we are here today is one of them!

On a personal level, we experience such occasions as well. Someone who has overcome a serious illness or survived a life threatening accident comes to synagogue and recites the Gomel blessing, a berachah in which he says, "Hagomel lihayavim tovot shgemalani kol tov." "Thank You, God, for graciously bestowing Your favor upon me even though I'm unworthy of such kindness." At such times we ask ourselves, "Why am I here? Why did I deserve to survive?" The congregation responds, "May the One who has been gracious to you continue to favor you with all that is good."

On such occasions it's easy to say, "Thank God." When our lives hang in the balance it's not hard to look back and acknowledge that we've been given a precious gift. Unfortunately, such feelings of gratitude are often short lived and quickly forgotten. The sad truth is, most of us live on a "what have you done for me recently" philosophy of life.

It's like the Bubbe who lounged on the beach one day while her grandson all dressed up in adorable little sun suit topped off with a little sailor's hat played in the sand. Suddenly a wave came crashing down on the beach and washed the little boy out to sea. Bubbe jumped up and began to yell and scream, "Gevalt! Dear God, this is horrible! Please don't take my grandson from me! I'll do anything! Please! Please!" A moment later another wave comes crashing down on the beach and put the little boy back in the same spot where he had been sitting just moments before without his hat. Bubbe looks up, and says, "He had a hat!"

It's easy to say thank you in the thick of the moment. It's much harder to hold on to our gratitude once we've already received what we want. It's much easier to celebrate holidays. They only occur once a year. They mark dramatic, memorable events. Almost all of them include delicious food. It's easy to be thankful when you're keenly aware of God's blessings because you've been the recipient of them. It's harder to express gratitude on daily basis as part of your life. To look at the simple, mundane blessings in our lives and then experience appreciation is a challenge because these blessings are simply there. It's fun to tell the story of Chanukah, and light the Menorah. But who wants to be bothered by gratitude every time you take a breath, with each time you take a step.

On of my favorite berachot in our liturgy is Asher Yatzar. You might not be familiar with this berachah because it's not recited as part of our service even though it does appear in the prayer book. We say, "Praised are you, Lord, who fashioned human beings with wisdom and created us with cavities and orifices. It is well known that if one of these cavities was opened or one of the orifices was closed, it would be impossible for us to exist or to stand before you. Praised are you who heals all flesh in wondrous ways."

Asher Yatzar is the essence of true thanksgiving. It is the berachah we recite upon exiting the wash room. What could be more common than that. But is it really a miracle? If you don't think so just someone in the hospital. This berachah challenges us to acknowledge the most basic gift in our lives -- our bodies. Most of us don't do this until something goes wrong and our bodies aren't working the way they should. Then we look for a miraculous intervention or at least a good surgeon. Asher Yatzar asks us to acknowledge the gifts we receive every day, the ones we are least likely to remember. Because that's no less a miracle.

So Thanksgiving and Chanukah are both about gratitude. We need to celebrate the dramatic moments in our lives but we also need to take the time to give thanks for the small miracles that we receive each day. It's enough to celebrate Chanukah once a year. Thanksgiving, on the other hand, ought to be every day experience.

This week as we light the Chanukah Menorah, maybe we ought to take the time to count our blessings. We like to give gifts at this time a year. Maybe we should ponder the gifts we have already received. Only then we will come to realize that great miracles occurred not only long ago but every day!

Shabbat Shalom