By this time next week, we will be deep into Hanukah and those of Christian faith will be just a day or so away from Christmas. Because our Jewish calendar is a lunar calendar and the secular/Gregorian calendar is a solar calendar, these two holidays coincide occasionally, but more often are separated by a few days or weeks.
Were you to look up Hanukah in a book about Jewish holidays, you'd see that Hanukah is categorized as a "Minor Festival." This status is largely due to the festival's post-biblical roots. The historical events of the Maccabean revolt (166 BCE) took place after the five books of the Torah were already canonized. In the Jewish world, that which is Torah-based is of greater weight and significance than that which follows . . . hence Hanukah is "minor" while Sukkot, for example is "major."
But the themes of Hanukah are not really "minor" at all:
Hanukah inspires us to take pride in our Jewish heritage and to dedicate ourselves to forging durable Jewish identities in a multicultural setting.
During the week of Hanukah, during the part of the year in which the days are the shortest, we bring more and more light into the world by lighting an increasing number of candles each night. Light is a symbol of God's presence . . . and this practice of lighting an increasing number of candles is a ritual of optimism and faith, an expression of our conviction that the darkness will relent through our partnership with God.
The engaging story of the Hanukah miracle of the oil reminds us that miracles can be perceived in the mundane, if we are only open to perceiving them.
But there's no foliage involved in Hanukah.
We American Jews are blessed to be living in a country where the culture and values we share with our non-Jewish neighbors promote mutual respect and inclusivity. The official dubbing of that huge evergreen in the State House as a "holiday tree" is kind of sweet and certainly well-intentioned, but rather misguided.
I suffer from no foliage-envy. I am sated by the richness of our Hanukah traditions and am happy for my Christian friends and neighbors that this stark season is enlivened for them by the richness of Christmas traditions as well.
I have to admit to a twinge of resentment . . . as if, non-foliage-blessed person that I am, I am being co-opted into identifying with an iconic symbol that is only meaningful to others.
So, please, call it a Christmas tree . . . that's what it is. It's beautiful and fun and festive . . . and Christian.
Now, where did I put those Hanukah candles . . . . .
Shabbat Hanukah 5771 Parashat Miketz Torah Reading: Genesis 41:1-44:17
Parashat Miketz is often the Torah reading for the Shabbat of Hanukah. In his rich and insightful book, The Everyday Torah, Rabbi Brad Artson characterizes the the themes of the Torah reading and the themes of Hanukah as "Dedication, Transformation, and Cleansing." He writes: "The miracle of the human capacity to refocus, to begin anew, to reconsecrate our deeds to a path of mindful compassion is a cause for wonder and real celebration...."
This week, we celebrate the re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem after its defilement by Hellenistic Seleucid invading forces in 165 b.c.e. Everything within the precincts of the Temple grounds was cleaned and rededicated to the exclusive service of the God of Israel. Rabbi Artson encourages us to internalize that dynamic of cleansing and transformation so that we may dedicate our resources, our priorities and our actions to mindful compassion.
I am so engaged by Rabbi Artson's phrase, "mindful compassion." Among the meanings and associations that come to my mind is the principle that help is really only help when we understand the needs of the person we are helping. Mindful compassion compels us to enter into the world of the person we are encountering, and to offer them resources that will address their own perceived needs, not the resources that will bring them closer to a goal that we think they should aspire to.
There are also moments when mindful compassion pushes us to forgo intellectual exercises and simply act to relieve acute suffering.
This Hanukah, this season of re-dedication, well over 200 Rhode Islanders are facing the appalling reality of sleeping under bridges. There are enough shelter beds in Rhode Island to provide a warm, clean, dry place to sleep for just about everyone in need, but the state lacks the funds to open, heat and staff those shelters.
For this reason, the Jewish Federation of Rhode Island and the Rhode Island Board of Rabbis have come together to organize "A Call for Compassion During Hanukah," our communal response to the crying need in our state.
There is a collection box in the lobby at Torat Yisrael, and there will be one at my Open House this Sunday afternoon, as well as Sunday morning at the Cohen School. You may donate cash or a check to this emergency appeal. Checks can be made out to: Rhode Island Board of Rabbis with "emergency shelter fund" on the notation line.
You can also donate online directly to the Rhode Island Coalition for the Homeless at www.rihomeless.org
Mindful compassion also compels us to use our imaginations to understand the realities of someone else's life. Please be generous.