One of the most remarkable things about our Jewish traditions is that, in every generation, the oldest understandings take on renewed relevance. The customs and rituals of Chanukah are no exception, modelling for us options for our responses to Antisemitism and hostility from the wider society.
Take the Dreidel — the Sevivon — for instance. Legend has it that the spinning-top game originated in second-temple Eretz Yisra’el. When the Assyrian rulers forbade Torah study, Rabbis taught in secret, hiding with their students in caves. If Antiochus’ soldiers approached, the students would hide the scrolls and take out the spinning toys, fooling the authorities into thinking they were just playing an innocent game.
Questionable historical accuracy aside, this image of our people defying Antisemitic repression has been imprinted on generations of modern Jews. The Dreidel seems to be telling us that even if faced with potential danger, we should stay true to our core values.
If the Dreidel's story symbolizes the strategic hiding of Jewish identity, the Chanukiah represents the opposite — its public expression. In tractate Shabbat 21b, the Talmud tells us:
“It is a Mitzvah to place the Chanukah lamp at the entrance to one’s house on the outside, so that all can see it. If he lives upstairs, he places it at the window adjacent to the public domain.”
Was this directive intended to remind other Jews of the Mitzvah of the Chanukah lights, or perhaps, to create a warm glow for the whole community on the darkest nights of the year, or possibly as a display for the benefit of the wider, non-Jewish, society? Whatever the reason, Chanukah and its miracles — the ancient rabbis taught — are to be celebrated openly and broadcast publicly.
For us today, both questions and doubts abound. Dreidel or Chanukiah? We want to be open about our Jewish identity, but is that always wise? In the face of encampments and vandalized Mezuzot, we wonder whether it is safer to keep our Jewish identity a little more quiet. Seeing hostile demonstrations that call for Israel’s demise, we may decide that this isn’t the time to widely announce Zionist beliefs. Do we fly the Israeli flag in front of our institutions and share our programmatic excellence on social media, or do we keep a low profile, hoping not to draw attention to the schools, shuls and community centres of which we are so proud?
Indeed, the Talmud understands that being fully open about Jewish ritual may not always be wise. The very next sentence from the one quoted above reads,
“In a time of danger, when the gentiles issue decrees to prohibit kindling lights, he places it on the table and that is sufficient to fulfill his obligation.”
As we weigh options for ourselves, our families, and our institutions, let’s remember that for those studying Torah in the second-temple caves, as well as for the Talmudic sages, their internal belief system held steady. Jewish learning, ritual, customs and values were not up for compromise. This must be true for us today as well. That is a cornerstone of Bialik’s mission — to nurture proud Jewish, Zionist identities in our students.
Let’s also keep in mind that even as Antisemitism seems to be on the rise, we are still fortunate enough to live in a modern, democratic society. Unlike our ancestors struggling under Assyrian rule, we are free to live our lives as Jews with the full protection of society’s norms and laws. We can fight back, not with swords and spears like the Maccabee warriors, but by calling out Antisemitism wherever we see it, and holding the wider society to higher standards.
And so as the festival of lights approaches, let’s all place our Chanukiot in the window — as a show of unity of our vibrant community, pride in our identity and traditions, and determination to remain open about who we are and what we believe.
Wishing each and every one of you a Chag Chanukah Sameach!
Benjy Cohen
Head of School