The Menorah (December KOL)
Mon, December 5, 2011
The New York Jewish Museum, located on Fifth Avenue and 92ndStreet, has the largest collection of Chanukah menorahs in the world. The theme of their permanent collection is Continuity and Change. When I visited the museum years ago, I was struck by the first room of the exhibit, which had four menorahs. The first one was a modern, silver Chanukah menorah created in 1978 by a famous silver designer by the name of L.Y. Wolpert. The second was a seven-branch menorah carved and painted in marble dating from Rome in the 3rd-4thcentury on a burial plaque from the period. It is probably one of the oldest menorahs in existence. The third was a menorah from Frankfurt, Germany from before the Holocaust, in silver with white and maroon enamel paintings on the base. The fourth was a seven-branched brass Bauhaus menorah designed in 1922 by Gyula Pap. The four menorahs were a powerful witness to our Jewish continuity over the centuries, and a testimony to Jewish survival and adaptation.
Perhaps the most important revelation one discovers as we study menorah design, throughout the ages, is that there is change and adaptation involved in the survival of the menorah itself, as each one reflects the art work and chosen medium of the majority culture of the times. Each menorah is a commentary of its time. You can feel the artist trying to capture the community in which he or she is living. A 20thcentury Princeton artist uses Statue of Liberty souvenirs and bold red, white and blue, to celebrate her American religious freedom, as there are representations from India, Iraq, Denmark, Poland, Peru, Morocco and a host of other nations where Jews have continued to celebrate Chanukah. The menorahs are a bold representation of how culture and times have shaped and changed the holiday, and the Jew, over time and geography. Wherever I go, I am always moved by the power of our Judaica to tell the story of our history. This summer we bought an old menorah at an antique stand in Budva, Montenegro, returning it to use, as we also reclaimed a Kiddush cup from a southern Virginia flea market.
As Jews, we strive to be a “light unto the nations,” and the menorah (more correctly, the chanukiyah– the real Hebrew name for a nine branch candelabra, as opposed to the seven branch candelabra of the Torah and the symbol of modern Israel) enables us to celebrate our Festival of Lights in every generation. The menorah is also a constant reminder of our need to make our Judaism part of the world in which we live.
As we begin another holiday season here in Virginia, our Chanukah menorah serves as a constant reminder not to assimilate or give up that which makes a home or synagogue Jewish. Those of you with young children will once again need to fight the battles we fought only two and three decades ago against bringing Christmas into our public schools, or trying to make a Christmas concert into a “holiday concert” by throwing in a Chanukah song. I will, once again, feel anger and exclusion as the President of the United States lights a national Christmas tree, and gratitude that Steven Spielberg is filming Lincolnin Richmond, eliminating a formal tree lighting in the Commonwealth this year. The national tree is NOT my tree or yours. We are Jews and trees don’t belong in our lives, at this time of year. If Christmas were for all, as Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July, then you’d see a tree in the lobby of our temple, or in my living room. Christmas is not our holiday. Its lights are not our lights. And a Jewish star on top of a tree is an insult to Judaism and Christianity. Symbols are powerful reminders of what is important in our lives and symbols are the primary way we define ourselves in society. Our symbol this month is the menorah.
Much has changed in our community. There is more sensitivity than there once was. You can buy Chanukah paper in the grocery store, menorahs at Bed, Bath and Beyond, and Chanukah cookies at Giant. You will find schools that “get it” outshining those that don’t. We are each role models of Judaism and Jewish choices by our connection to this synagogue and to the Torah. This is the season when even the least religious among us is called upon to defend our Jewish identity in the workplace and the world.
The menorah collection of the Jewish Museum is a powerful reminder that the objects we treasure tell a lot about us, and the Judaism of our age. As you purchase menorahs from our Sisterhood, or light a cherished family menorah covered in wax (you can put the menorah on aluminum foil and use a blow dryer to get rid of the wax, rather than scratch the menorah by using a knife or toothpick), or buy a menorah for an adult child or newly married couple, you are making a positive step in preserving our heritage. When you Skype with parents, grandparents, military loved ones abroad, or old family friends and light your menorahs together, you are enabling our new technology to enhance our ancient traditions and bring family and friends closer together under the Jewish umbrella.
And we must realize that some changes and choices can never be a part of our lives and Jewish continuity. When a mezuzah is placed on the door of a Jewish home it is a sacred reminder that only Jewish symbols should dwell within. Continuity is a critical Jewish value today, more so than ever before, for our shrinking Jewish population. Rabbis and synagogues have always been the agents and arbiters of Jewish survival, especially in times when our very existence has been threatened, such as now. That is why we do not allow our students to talk about any celebration other than Chanukah in our religious school and teach them that there should only be Jewish symbols in their homes. We are the defenders of Jewish choices, and the champions of Jewish survival, even when that may not be popular or easy. You may make other choices for your life, but you have to take responsibility for the fact that they are not Jewish choices and can do harm to the Jewish community or the image of our synagogue the more public they are.
Chanukah means “rededication.” The Maccabees rededicated the Temple and themselves to the Torah and the Jewish values and precepts it teaches and demands. They have placed the torch of rededication in our hands. May we be worthy recipients of their legacy. May we light our Jewish lights, ever mindful of the responsibility of Continuity that is ours as a sacred duty, and may we dwell as a minority in our community, ever wary that change and assimilation too often go hand in hand. Most of all, may we celebrate our Judaism for its joy and wisdom. From Chanukah to Purim to Pesach, we eat and remember, we rejoice and sing. We do so because of the amazing joy and heritage that enriches our lives each day, not because we were persecuted and merely survived.
There is a Talmudic text that begins, “My Chanukah,” in Hebrew meaning, “Why Chanukah?” The answer to that question is revisited in every age. For us, it is a way to stay Jewish in a world that bombards us with Christmas the day after Halloween. Jews of Eastern Europe who were too poor to own a menorah used to carve holes in potatoes and use them first to light the Chanukah lights and then to make latkes – the ultimate in multi-purpose and environmentalism. They did not miss a night to fulfill the mitzvah of lighting the lights. They did not miss an opportunity to be Judaism’s champion of Continuity in the darkness of persecution and anti-Semitism of their lives. They were never too busy to remember who they were and what they were supposed to do. They were never too busy to light the menorah, sing songs, and celebrate eight nights of Chanukah, even if it wasn’t the most important holiday in the Jewish calendar. Much has changed since that time in Jewish history. We have beautiful menorahs and latkes that can even come out of a box in an emergency. Their lives were so busy and hard. They made time for family, for faith, and for God. And it is incumbent upon us to do the same. In this year of asking Jewish questions, we must also revisit the question, “Why Chanukah?” The answer this year, for me, is that Chanukah is my way of saving Judaism from extinction, and a way to mark Jewish time in an ever growing secular world.
My son, Jacob, will get married on the first night of Chanukah this year. We bought a menorah that is specially made to take the glass he will break under the chuppah and place its fragments into the menorah forever. I will take my travel Chanukah menorah (chanukiyah) with me this December. In the Chanukah lights, our family will reaffirm our Jewish commitment to doing everything we can to stay Jewish, even as we travel far from home. Please know that I also light my menorah for you and your loved ones. You light yours for me and mine. The tradition continues. The legacy is passed on. The light does not go out. It is the way it was, it is the way it is, it is the way we pray it will continue to be. May your family make the Jewish choices this season demands, even when those choices may be hard for your household.
Happy Chanukah from my family to yours,
Rabbi Amy R. Perlin, D. D.