Chanukah column

I wrote this as a column for the H-T, but to run at this length, it would have to go on an editorial op-ed page, and Bob Z probably won't let me. I will probably have to cut it to 400 words (it's about 700) for it to run on a religion page on the 9th or the 16th. Also, I'm waiting to hear back from the record company about permission to post some of the music from the CD on the HT website. But at least I can post my column here! (Within the column, I followed Associated Press style -- I think -- on how to spell the name of the holiday. But of course I prefer another way!) Chanukah sameach!


From “Celebrate Hannukah":

Don't let the light go out: it's lasted for so many years.
Don't let the light go out: let it shine through our love and our tears.
"Light One Candle," Peter Yarrow

Not by might and not by power
But by spirit alone shall we all live in peace
“Not by Might, Not by Power” Debbie Friedman (adapted from Zechariah 4:6)


You are the Rock of our life, the Power that shields
us in every age
God, where can I flee from your presence?
Wherever I go, you are there.
If I climb up to the highest mountain,
Wherever I go, you are there.
"Tzur Chayeinu," Joe Black

Candles shining through the window into the cold winter night. Family and friends gathered around the table: delicious food, laughter, games, presents -- tradition.

This is not a Christmas scene.

It is Hanukkah. A minor Jewish holiday celebrating recapture of the ancient Jewish temple in Jerusalem, it's not nearly as big a deal in Israel as here. But Jews are nothing if not adaptive, and American Hanukkah has become what it is because of the
overwhelming-ness of the American Christmas season.

In the first years after I became Jewish, it was difficult to give up cherished traditions. Walking home at dusk through Harvard Square, a very small evergreen strapped to the top of our daughter's stroller, I smiled – feeling I was carrying on the magic of my childhood. Our housemates weren’t Jewish, so we all decorated the tree with angels and snowflakes – our "non-Christian" holiday tree.

Within a couple of years, I realized that what my husband Jordan and I taught our children would be the memories and traditions they would carry on -- and I was very uncomfortable trying to keep customs from one religion while my heart and mind were with another. Although American culture can make it very awkward and even lonely for non-Christians during the holiday season, I was determined to find some "magic" for our children within our own beliefs.

Slowly, we began to develop our own traditions. We read Hanukkah stories aloud after lighting the candles. We bought the Hanukkah version of an Advent calendar from the Jewish Museum and our small children delighted in opening a tiny window each night.

We joined the synagogue and our children made friends who celebrated the same holidays -- and who didn't need explanations about them.

Each year, Jordan makes a new menorah (candleholder used only during Hanukkah). We have many menorahs -- made from clay, from stone, from a wooden branch -- as well as beautiful ones passed down in our family and given to us as presents.

Some years we get it together to bake gifts for neighbors and friends -- a carryover tradition from my mom Pat's generous holiday giving during my childhood.

We make extra contributions to charity -- in fact, there is no way I could visit Kroger's during the holiday season without buying a bag of food for the food bank donation box. And I could never walk past a Salvation Army kettle without giving.

Not only would I be overwhelmed with guilt for having so much and giving too little, but I’ve come to feel that the huge emphasis on extravagant present-giving at this time of year -- fighting to get the newest toy, spending more than one can afford – is the exact opposite of how we want to live.

Years ago, we stopped the American custom of giving a present each night of Hanukkah. Now, we pick one night when our family can be at home together and exchange presents. And the nights when there are no presents are just as golden in my memory, and I think also in the memories of our children.

Often, in the car and at home, we listen to Hanukkah CDs. A favorite is “Celebrate Hanukkah,” compiled by Craig Taubman:

One song, "Ocho Kandelikas" ("Eight Candles") is hauntingly lovely -- even more so to me after I learned the Sephardic Jewish musical tradition of author Flory Jagoda was passed down through her family for hundreds of years after the Jews were forced out of Spain in 1492 and her family ended up in Sarajevo.

Immersed in the Hanukkah music from different cultures, I feel so much a part of generations of Jewish families coming together to re-tell the Hanukkah story – a story of fighting for the right to worship one God – and it is plenty magic enough for me.

I sit dreaming, watching the candles, remembering: Jordan often asks visiting friends and family to say a blessing as each candle in our many menorahs is lit. Sometimes people are a little embarrassed to speak up at first. But slowly, as each one takes a turn, people get inspired to talk about things which are from a deep part of themselves. We share thoughts of those no longer with us, wishes for a better world and for healing, our gratitude – and become part of each other's Hanukkah traditions and memories.

Lynne Foster Shifriss is assistant to the editor at The Herald-Times and is vice-president of the board at Congregation Beth Shalom.

Hanukkah begins at sunset Friday. Listen to selections from "Celebrate Hanukkah" on HeraldTimesOnline.