A Taste of Torah - Vayeshev - Chanukah

This week we begin our long sojourn in Egypt. In our Torah portion, Vayeshev, Joseph iritates his brothers so much that they cast him into a pit and subsequently sell him to the Ishmaelites who bring Joseph to Egypt. In the coming weeks, we'll read about Joseph's ascent to high society, namely in next week's Torah portion, Mikketz, Pharaoh will dress Joseph in the local garb, give him an Egpytian name (Zaphenath-paneah, Egyptian for 'God speaks; he lives.'), and Joseph will fully assimilate into Egyptian society so much so that when his brothers come down in search of food, they will not recognize him anymore.

Tonight, of course, also begins Hanukkah, the Jewish celebration of the Maccabees' revolt against the Syrian Greeks in 164 BCE. The Maccabees' revolt is one against assimilation, one which strives to have the Jewish community's particular qualities keep it separate from the larger society. And yet, the way we celebrate Hanukkah today, especially in America, has taken on one of the strongest qualities of assimilation. It has been commercialized. I was very surprised to find out while going through the stations on my car's XM Radio that from December 7-December 19, XM Radio has created a Hanukkah station, Radio Hanukkah. Radio Hanukkah leaves me conflicted. On the one hand, I absolutely love that for the first time in my recollection, I can turn on a radio station that plays holiday music and only hear Hanukkah music. I have heard Reform Jewish musical artists I know including Debbie Friedman, Rabbi Joe Black, Mark Bloom, and Rick Recht; I've heard Hanukkah songs I grew up singing, including the Dreidel Song, Oh Hanukkah, and Ma'oz Tzur; and I've even heard some of my favorite artists performing Hanukkah songs of their own, including the Barenaked Ladies. On the other hand, I realize that all of this feeling just like everyone else, having a radio station that plays music celebrating the holiday I am celebrating, means that my traditions are assimilating into the larger society. And then I have to ask myself, isn't the point of Hanukkah to celebrate our people's successful battle against assimilation?

Then, to top it all off, a friend shared an Op-Ed piece from today's New York Times by David Brooks, The Hanukkah Story. In his piece, Brooks shares the real story of Hanukkah. If you think the real story of Hanukkah is about the miracle of the oil and you'd like to keep on believing that, you probably want to stop reading at this point. In the real story of Hanukkah, there is no oil, but rather a rather bloody battle. I thought I knew the real story of Hanukkah, but this piece enlightened me to greater details about that period in our people's history. I always knew that Greek culture was infiltrating the Jewish community and that Mattathias and his sons, led by Judah Maccabee, succeeded in defeating the Greek army, reclaiming the Temple, and rededicating it for Jewish worship. What I didn't know was the battle that ensued within the Jewish community, too.

I should not have been surprised. The Maccabees and their followers not only went after the Greeks in the quest to hold on to Judaism as they saw it, but they also went after the members of their own Jewish community who had assimilated, Jews who had taken on Greek names like Jason, Jews who had begun exercising in the Greek gymnasiums, Jews who wanted to live in the secular world and the Jewish world simultaneously. All of a sudden, I didn't identify with the Maccabees. I identified with the Hellenistic Jews, the Jews who were adopting Greek culture. They wanted to feel like they were a part of the society around them; I want to feel like I'm a part of the society around me. They wanted to hear themselves reflected in the culture of their time; I want to hear myself reflected in the culture of my time (perhaps with Hanukkah music on the radio).

Of course, that left me wondering, if the person I am today would have sided with the Hellenistic Jews (whom Brooks, coincidently or deliberately, identifies as 'reformers'), then what does my celebration of Hanukkah actually celebrate? Am I supposed to now believe that the Jews of that time should not have adopted Greek culture at all? Is it that Antiochus went too far in outlawing Jewish practice, but if he hadn't done that the Maccabees' battle would not have been justified? I just don't know. What I do know is that when I light my menorah tonight, I will acknowledge that no matter how much I feel a part of the larger American society, even if there is a Hanukkah station on the radio now, I am still different. I do not feel bad that I am different. I celebrate that difference and at this time, I rededicate myself to acknowledging, accepting, and celebrating that difference. So, for what it's worth, Chag Chanukah Sameach, Happy Hanukkah!

A Taste of Torah - Vayishlach

This week, more kissing. However, this time, it's not of the romantic variety like last week's kiss between Jacob and Rachel. In this week's Torah portion, Vayishlach, Jacob reunites with his brother, Esau. To recap, you might recall that Jacob and Esau had quite the falling out. Jacob stole his brother's birthright and their father's blessing, after which the two separated. This week, they reunite. Jacob, having been prosperous, shows up with his wives, his children, and a great deal of his possessions. Esau shows up with 400 men. From other places in the Bible[1], we learn that the presence of 400 men is metaphorical of an approaching battle. But when Esau arrives with 400 men, he doesn't engage Jacob in a battle. Instead, they embrace and kiss. What gives?

The Hebrew word for Esau kissing Jacob is vayishakehu: . In the text of the Torah, the letters are dotted on top. Rashi explains that there is a discrepancy of opinions about why the letters are adorned with dots. Some say that it indicates Esau's insincerity in the moment, but the prevailing opinion is that we would expect Esau to be insincere. The dots must indicate that something unusual is happening. Rashi teaches that according to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, we would expect Esau not to get along with Jacob. The dots, he says, teach us that this kiss was uncharacteristic. In this moment, Esau had genuine, tender feelings for his brother. Why? Because only he showed up with 400 men. Jacob didn't. Jacob didn't approach ready to wage a battle. Instead, he approached ready to reconcile with Esau and his willingness to reconcile warmed Esau's heart, allowing him to show mercy. If we approach one another with an open heart, then we set the tone and allow them to embrace us in a similar fashion.

[1] I Samuel 25:13, I Samuel 30:10, I Kings 22:6, among others.