We Will Survive

I lit the first Hanukkah candle last night and today's the first day of the holiday. It's also Christmas. According to the radio this morning, this is the first time in forty years it's happened. And that started me thinking about the two holidays, and about Christianity and Judaism in general.

The notice of the coincidence that I heard on the radio isn't really surprising – especially in America where we try to be “diverse,” and to recognize the holidays of even those we disdain. And American Jews, attempting to retain a little of their heritage as they assimilate, and to find a reason for giving presents at a time when others do, have emphasized one of our minor holidays, giving it a prominence that exceeds its importance. The major holidays – the ones that are “difficult” and associated with “unnecessary” ritual – are of far less interest. They're not relevant in modern society.

These two holidays, Hanukkah and Christmas, are very dissimilar and they demonstrate one of the main differences between Christianity and Judaism. Apart from the specifics of observance, Christmas demonstrates a focus on an individual and the celebration of his life. In this particular instance it celebrates his birth. And a similar focus relates to the other major Christian holiday, Easter, which commemorates his “rebirth.” The interest is in an individual, and the memory of the events of his life. Little emphasis is placed on Christianity.

I mentioned that Hanukkah is a relatively minor holiday. And it is. But in a way it symbolizes the way the sages thought, and the way they chose to commemorate our history. It is a holiday that celebrates our survival as a nation. It's about us, not Him. We acknowledge G-d and are grateful for rescuing us from the end toward which we were headed, but we celebrate our victory and our survival. That's the main theme of the holiday.

And it's the same with many of our other holidays – important ones like Passover and Sukkot (Tabernacles), and some of the minor ones as well. Purim, for example, recalls our victory over the Persians, but the biblical record, the Book of Esther, doesn't explicitly mention G-d. What is most important is that our nation was victorious.

Such a focus is not surprising, and it's served us well. We're a small nation and we've always been so. But we've survived through time. We've survived because our focus is on our nation. On earth. It doesn't matter if we're less interested in the transcendental. We're still here.

We face a new terror though. Antisemitism, primarily a product of the “religion of love,” a creed that focuses on the hereafter rather than the here, has become a major message of Islam. They usually frame it as a reaction to Israel's presence, but it's a bias that long preceded Israel. It is antisemitism. Perhaps it's framed in a way that is more acceptable to the world, but it's antisemitism. And like Christianity, Islam is a religion that focuses on an individual and on the hereafter. What happens on earth – what happens to believers – is far less consequential than any acts done in adoration of him. The world's two largest religions – Christianity and Islam – have in common both a focus on an individual and on the end of the religion from which they are both descended.

Hanukkah teaches us that our nation, with G-d's help, must and will survive. Small but united, we, and Israel, will survive. G-d has promised us that. But we must act together. We must be united. We must be a nation.

Happy Hanukkah.