The celebration of Chanukah today is based on the conflation of two stories; one historical, and one legendary.
The historical events on which the holiday is based can be found in I and II Maccabees, two books contained in the Apocrypha. The Apocrypha, which means “hidden writings,” refers to books considered for inclusion in the Hebrew Biblical canon, but ultimately rejected. These books were, however, included in Greek and Latin versions of the Bible and are considered sacred texts by some Christian denominations. Chanukah celebrates the victory of religious and cultural freedom. This independence was won by the Jews through a revolt led by the Maccabees against the Syrians and King Antiochus in 165 B.C.E. Israel was under Syrian control at that time, and Syria had been forced to accept the Greeks’ way of life – their religion, political structure, customs and culture – by Alexander the Great before his death. King Antiochus, one of Alexander’s generals, planned to Hellenize the Jews as well– they were not permitted to observe Jewish holidays, study Torah, or celebrate their life occasions. Although some Jews were enamored with Hellenism and fully assimilated into Greek culture, many felt they had no choice but to revolt. A priest named Mattathias and his five sons (who took the name “Maccabees”), started the rebellion. Vastly outnumbered, the Maccabees emerged victorious, recaptured and rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem, which had been desecrated by the Syrian-Greek army. The name “Chanukah” means “dedication,” honoring this event.
The legend of Chanukah comes from the Talmud, the collection of Oral Law in Judaism. The Talmud, in tractate Shabbat 21b, tells the story of the Maccabees having reclaimed the Temple and their desire to kindle its eternal light. However, they found only one small jar of oil, sufficient to burn for only one day. But miraculously, the oil lasted for eight days – thus, Chanukah is an eight-day holiday.
Although today Chanukah is one of the most well known Jewish celebrations in North America, for the majority of Jewish history it was a very minor holiday. Because it is not biblically based, it did not originally share the status of the other major Jewish holidays. Only in the late 1800s did Chanukah take hold in North America, thanks to a small group of young Jews in Philadelphia who wanted a more thriving Jewish holiday life.
Because of Chanukah’s temporal proximity to Christmas, Chanukah has grown in popularity and observance. (Chanukah also borrows the custom of gift giving directly from Christmas.) It is important to note, however, that Christmas and Chanukah are linked not only on the calendar, but also in their origins. Both festivals emerged as a response to the winter solstice in ancient times. A fixation with light in the dead of winter is understandable. We can imagine, thousands of years ago, the religious and psychological questions and fears that arose in the midst of the encompassing darkness of December. The shortest daylight period of the year, the cold weather, and the emotional sense of isolation that often accompanies darkness undoubtedly led our ancestors (of every religious tradition) to create rituals that would help them to dispel the darkness and create light. In Judaism, the light accompanying these rituals shone through the candelabras of the ancient Temple, and those candelabras ultimately emerged as the Chanukah menorah.
The dreidel, Yiddish for “top,” is usually associated with the children’s game of spinning a toy to see how much “gelt” (coins) they can win. But dreidels have creative lessons for adults also. A dreidel in Israel has four letters on it: nun, gimmel, hey, and pay. The letters are an acronym for “Nes gadol haya po” – “a great miracle happened here.” A dreidel in the Diaspora has the same first three letters, but the fourth letter is a shin rather than a pay – it is an acronym for “Nes gadol haya sham” –“a great miracle happened there.”
Wherever we are in the world, Jews can learn symbolic lessons fromthe four sides of the dreidel. The dreidels from Israel instruct us to value the wonderful things happening “here,” all around us – for example, the opportunity to create a Jewish identity and the chance to celebrate that which is closest to us. And more broadly, we can all learn to identify the miraculous events in the “here” of our own lives. The dreidels in the Diaspora remind us of the possibility of miraculous events “there,” far away –encouraging us to see the wonder of people, places and things to which we have a less direct connection. As Jews, our concept of “our” community should range wider and farther –geographically and otherwise–than we might at first experience, imagine, or even feel comfortable with.
The phrase “December Dilemma” refers to the angst, confusion and sadness that certain groups sometimes experience during the winter holiday season. For converts to Judaism, December can be a painful reminder of a tradition that was extremely difficult to give up. For interfaith families, December can be a time of confusion in the home, as parents strive to provide their children with what they feel is the most enriching religious experience. And for Jews, December reminds us that we are in the minority – we do not celebrate Christmas, but it is pervasive. Thus, December poses a dilemma for many groups.
For those who have chosen Judaism or those studying toward conversion, giving up Christmas is often one of the most difficult things to contemplate and undertake. For many in this group, December is filled with tender nostalgia – the search for the perfect tree, the annual climb up to the attic for decorations, and the fun of adorning the tree with lights, tinsel and heirloom ornaments. The smell of pine, the holiday music playing in the home, the large family Christmas dinner and, of course, the watch for Santa Claus. All of these powerful memories come flooding back in December, posing not only a dilemma, but often a crisis of faith. Even those for whom Christmas had little to do with Christ, giving up the family traditions can be daunting and sorrowful. Although Judaism offers many warm and wonderful holidays, losing Christmas is indeed a loss; one that is mourned each December. In addition, it is important to note that parents and siblings of those converting do not convert, and so challenges of balancing extended families, celebrations and gift-giving inevitably emerge. During this season, it can be a struggle for those new to Judaism to resist the feeling of being outsiders in their own families.
For interfaith families, navigating a season dominated by Christmas can be confusing and anxiety provoking. In an attempt not to deprive their children of anything, many couples decide to celebrate both Christmas and Chanukah in their homes. As a result, the meanings of the holidays often become diluted, and attention too easily turns to the superficial component shared by each — that is, gift-giving. And like families of converts, interfaith families often must balance extended families of different religions, each wanting the main celebration to be of their own holiday.
For most Jews in the Diaspora, there is no escaping Christmas. Each December brings with it an identity test and a reminder of our minority status. For starters, Christmas is a legal holiday in the United States and many other countries. We confront Christmas everywhere –in retail stores, in schools, and in public areas. Parents are tested by children who want to be a part of the hype and festivities surrounding Christmas. Is it alright for Jewish children to sit on Santa’s lap? Is it alright for Jewish children to participate in Christmas pageants? And what of Chanukah bushes and blue and white lights? Questions like these may plague Jewish parents at Christmas time. Although Chanukah is often offered as our “alternative” to Christmas, it is a misnomer. Historically, Chanukah is actually a relatively minor holiday in Judaism (despite what it has become today), and to compare it to Christmas both does Christmas an injustice and falsely inflates Chanukah. However, there is no other holiday more aptly suited to remind Jews of our ongoing struggle against assimilation. Chanukah is precisely the story of our ancestors who fought for the right to remain Jewish in a non-Jewish world. The Jewish dilemma in December, then, is an age-old one.
