Beth Shalom
Oceanside Jewish Center

Why I Don't Like Chanukah
/
Parshat Miketz / Chanukah
December 27, 2003 - 6 Tevet 5764

Thank God! Finally, I can breathe a sigh of relief. Chanukah is almost over. Of all the holidays in our calendar, I have to say that this is the one I like the least.

It's not that I'm a Jewish Grinch. And it's not that I dislike Chanukah. I have no problem with gift giving and I'm big fan of both latkes and jelly donuts. We also have a lovely collection of Chanukiot in our home. I've always been fascinated by the historical background of this post-biblical feast, and how it has evolved into the holiday that we celebrate today. Chanukah is a lovely holiday, from the story of the cruse of oil that burned for eight days to the spinning of the dreidel. What's not to like?

Several years ago, while living in Pennsylvania, I was invited to write a cover story entitled 'The Gift of Chanukah.' for a glossy regional magazine that was published by our local public television and radio stations. The editors even put a picture of our family lighting the Chanukiah on its cover. The article gave me a chance to explain to our non-Jewish neighbors comes from and why Chanukah is not the Jewish Christmas.

My problem with Chanukah is my ambivalence about what it has become. I'm just not sure how to deal with this holiday any more or how much emphasis we should be placing upon it.

This year my ambivalence began several days before Chanukah. Driving on the Long Island Expressway on my way to a funeral, I found myself behind a long processional of cars led by the Suffolk County Police. At first glance I couldn't tell what type of procession I was following. Was it a funeral or was some important politician on his way to a public rally? I noticed that the cars in front of me all had some type of strange thing sticking up out of their roofs that sort of looked like a hand. What were these cars carrying? Finally pulling into the left lane, I sped ahead of the procession. There were about fifteen or twenty cars with Chanukiot attached to their roofs, and each had a sign attached to the side which began 'The Chabad House of ... '

Somewhere along the way, the Lubavitch movement misappropriated Chanukah as its own holiday. In communities throughout the New York area and around the world, local Chabad representatives manage to organize public lightings of the Menorah. Community leaders are more than happy to show up and be seen doing something nice for the Jewish community. And newspapers are pleased to have pictures of long bearded Chasidic Rabbis standing in cherry pickers high above the ground lighting a tall Menorah on Chanukah for the daily news. These pictures are certain far more colorful than some modern attired and smooth skinned Rabbi like me giving a Chanukah sermon or officiating at a congregational Chanukah party.

When did Chanukah become such a big 'Gedillah?' On the one hand all this fuss over Chanukah makes perfect sense: The whole purpose of lighting the Menorah is 'Pirsumei Nisa,' or publicizing the miracle of Chanukah so doing so in very public places makes good sense. On the other hand I can't help but feel that all this fuss has something to do with keeping up with the Joneses by making Chanukah as big a deal as Christmas. And about this I have to tell you I'm ambivalent.

Chanukah is not Christmas and the sooner we learn to distinguish between these two holidays, the better off we'll be. I believe that we would be better served by allowing our Christian neighbors to celebrate their holiday and not competing with them.

Actually I found my own way to make this distinction this year. I did so by embracing Christmas as my gentile neighbor's celebration and helping them enjoy it. There is something nice about being able to say: 'This is a wonderful time of year for you. How can I help you enjoy it?' You can only do that if you have other holidays that you celebrate besides this one.

So how did I celebrate Chanukah this year? On Christmas Eve I volunteered to go around to South Nassau Hospital and to the homes of some of the fire fighters with Santa Claus delivering gifts and spreading holiday cheer. The joke became that I was driving around town on the fire truck with Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus and that I was Rabbi Claus. It seems to me that on Christmas there are lots of other volunteer jobs that we Jews could be doing so that our non-Jewish neighbors could stay home and enjoy their own holiday. There is no reason why we have to work so hard at making Chanukah more Christmas-like.

To their credit, Chabad has an inspired way of reaching out to the community and creating a sense of Jewish pride and belonging even in assimilated Jews. They have picked up on the fact that so many Jews feel overwhelmed at this time of year and have tried to make Chanukah much more than it traditionally was. We shouldn't minimize this important accomplishment. Their message is a simple one: do a Mitzvah, any mitzvah, even a small one and you'll bring the Moshiach. In other words, every Jewish act makes a difference in the world.

Do we have that kind of faith that our actions can change the world; that what we do can save others?

But I'm not sure why we have to turn to Lubavitch to accomplish this. I don't believe that my 'brand' of Judaism is any less meaningful or authentic than theirs. The only difference seems to be that they have the zeal to go out and bring their message to the world, and we don't. When people donate money to Lubavitch I fear that they are doing so to assuage their own guilt. They say, 'I will give money to 'the real Jews' since I'm not such a good Jew myself.

But maybe we can learn an important lesson from Lubavitch. If they can do it, so can we. Lubavitch does not have a monopoly on getting the public's attention. We must begin thinking about our Jewish holidays differently. Every holiday should be an opportunity for a public celebration - something that will capture the fancy of every member of the Jewish community and something that will create a 'Kodak moment' that journalists and photographers can record. We need to say to the public that we are just as joyous in our celebration of Judaism as Chabad is.

Imagine, for instance that we delivered Shaloch Manot to every family (not just Jews - every family) in Oceanside.

Or we arranged a public burning of Chametz on the eve of Passover in our parking lot in which every family was invited to bring food to be donated to the local pantries.

On Sukkot we built a Sukkah in the parking lot of Stop and Shop. Representatives of our congregation would man the booth all day with literature on Sukkot as well as opportunities to share a light snack in the Sukkah.

I guess what I'm saying is, that I would feel less ambivalent about Chanukah if we worked just as hard at celebrating all of our holidays as we do about making a fuss over this one. Chanukah has an important message for us, and it's an opportunity to show pride in ourselves. But it is just as important to show our concern for our community and our respect for our neighbor's religious heritage.

I would like to propose that we create a holiday celebration committee to orchestrate religious celebrations for all of our holidays. These celebrations would reach out to the members of our congregation but they would also reach out beyond our synagogue to the community of Oceanside and the entire South Shore of Long Island. Beyond simply lighting a Menorah - what would we like people to learn about our holidays and our way of life? How can we show our concern for others? In what ways can we bring our calendar into the twentieth century by making Mitzvot a way of redeeming the world and enhancing Jewish identity?

Lubavitch has it right. Do a Mitzvah. Make a difference.

But that message does not belong to them. It belongs to all of us. And you don't have to have a streimel to teach it or to live by it!

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Chanukah!

Rabbi Greenspan