Dare to See God Here - Chanukah 5785
Dare to See God Here
One such example of this tension occurred in the 1950s, wherein some of the orthodox rabbis of Manchester were discussing ways to improve the decorum in the shuls for the upcoming High Holy Days. The suggestions were, I must say, marvelously inoffensive. And yet, somehow, offense there was. Suggestions such as “maybe there are a few of these pages upon pages of piyyutim, of additional liturgical poems, that we don’t need to do” or even “might it be a good idea to make sure everyone who wants to leave for Yizkor leaves before the prayers start” - these suggestions sparked controversy among a particular kind of orthodox rabbi, prompting Rabbi Jacobs to write an article entitled: Organic Growth vs Petrification.
It really does not need more than the title to understand. Are we going to grow organically, the way that Judaism always has, and respond to the needs of the generation - or are we going to choose petrification? To clarify the position of those against these wild changes, such as “encouraging communal singing”, the committee called themselves: the Committee to Fight Reform.
The story is really told just in those titles. The Committee to Fight Reform and Organic Growth vs Petrification.
And so it would continue. On the question of whether we should consider academic research and historical context in our understanding of texts: yes. On the question of whether we should recite Hallel, the psalms of praise, for days related to the Modern State of Israel: yes. Ultimately, as I understand it, the reason the Jacobs Affair was the Jacobs Affair was not really that he wrote one thing in one book, though his perspective on Biblical Criticism would become the point weaponised against him; it was a near-constant sense of intellectual honesty and religious courage.
In Louis’ words: “Every thinking person must protest against the attitude which bids us to relinquish the project [of change in Judaism] merely on the grounds that we of this generation have not the merit to take an important step unknown to our ancestors.”
I will admit that it is a constant source of confusion in my life as to why some (not all, but many) orthodox thinkers would rather be petrified than follow the same model of change that has occurred in Judaism since Sinai. Halakhah, the system of Jewish law, has growth built into it - but, for the most part, those issues I mentioned are not even about halakhah. They were not matters of legal change, they were just issues of… any kind of change at all.
Why am I thinking about Rabbi Jacobs of blessed memory and his early tensions with the ultra-orthodox this week?
There is a layer of the Chanukah story which is really about intra-Jewish relations. We all tell the story as being about the Greeks and what it meant for the Jews to resist.
But actually, some of the most interesting relationships in the Chanukah story are the relationships between Jews. First, between those who wanted to fight and resist, and those who wanted to Hellenize in the hope that shedding Jewishness would benefit them. Any version of the story which presents the Jews as uniform in their perspectives on the Greek rule is oversimplified to the point of misinformation. (Arguably, any version of any story which presents Jews as uniform in their perspectives on anything is questionable at best.)
We can read Chanukah, therefore, as being about Jewish resistance to change. It is a positive story; our heroes are the ones who fight against the oppressive non-Jewish cultural force, who resist assimilating into the broader culture. They are, in a sense, the conservers. Our enemies are not only the ruling empire, who took over our temple and mandated breaking Shabbat and such, but also fellow Jews who would aid this by way of Hellenisation.
But then, at the end of the story, the Maccabees celebrate a holiday. Their holiday, proto-Chanukah (if you will), seems to be a version of the Sukkot they missed due to the Greeks occupying and desecrating the Temple.
These are, may I remind you, post-Torah Jews. These are Jews who have a written Torah that tells them what the festivals are. And yet, from the offset, they’re willing to celebrate a holiday out of season.
And then Chanukah is established as its own holiday. There is a story of a miracle involving oil and the Temple Menorah. There is an established practice in which we kindle lights and we say blessings over them. And this is the exciting part: the wording for that blessing is asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu, “God who sanctified us with His commandments and… commanded us to kindle the light of Chanukah!” What?!
I know we have been saying it for a few nights at this point, but it is theologically wild. There is no Chanukah in the Torah. The story is much too late for that. There is likewise no post-biblical story where God adds a mitzvah (a commandment) to the list. This is purely rabbinic in nature, but sometimes, the rabbis will decide we need to do something and add “asher kid’shanu”, that God commanded it, to the blessing.
It is, I think, a lot like saying Hallel - psalms of praise - over modern holidays celebrating the State of Israel. Hallel, by the way, also comes with an “asher kid’shanu” - a blessing over being commanded to do something. We said that blessing earlier today, over Hallel for Chanukah. We’ll say it in the spring, too, to celebrate Yom HaAtzma’ut, Israel’s Independence Day.
There’s a disagreement over saying Hallel for modern holidays. I mentioned that earlier. Louis seems to have been on the side of saying it. But there’s no disagreement over saying Hallel, with its blessing, for Chanukah. There’s no living disagreement over allowing the Maccabees and the rabbis to declare new festivals when something happens around them.
There are several different frameworks to understand the process of change in Judaism. Our founder rabbi of blessed memory called it Organic Growth vs Petrification. The rabbis he was responding to would refer to it as Reforming vs, I imagine, Conserving Tradition.
But I think Chanukah opens up an important and challenging framework. I think this is especially the case when put in relationship, through its use of “asher kid’shanu” and its use of Hallel, with celebrations of Modern Israel. I think it’s this:
Do we see ourselves as part of the miracle of Jewish history?
The Maccabees did. When they survived the unsurvivable, when they rededicated the temple, they decided to do Sukkot out of season and therefore instituted a brand new holiday. They understood themselves as in relationship with God and the process of history.
The rabbis did, too. They said “asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav”, they declared a festival to have been given to us by God, even though they knew very well that the people who instituted the holiday were people. But they saw God as involved in the process of history, in relationship with them, and so we all say it, too.
Some of the rabbis of the 20th Century understood this. They understood that after 2,000 years of exile, coming back to the homeland was miraculous.
It takes a certain courage to look at life and see God there. It especially takes courage when things are not easy - and yes, right now, things are not easy. But let’s not forget that things were not easy for the Maccabees, who fought tooth and nail against an empire; things were not easy for the generations of classical rabbis, who saw the destruction of the Temple and the early centuries afterwards, who had to reshape Jewish life if it were to survive.
Seeing ourselves as part of the transmission of Judaism, as part of the unfolding history of the our people, and as in relationship with God, is - to my eye - fundamentally what it means to be a religious Jew. If we really believe that, we will not be afraid to grow; we will not be afraid that the Judaism of the 22nd Century might not look exactly like the Judaism of the 21st.
Hopefully they will have found brand new miracles to say blessings over.
Shabbat shalom. Happy Hanukkah.
The Maccabees did. When they survived the unsurvivable, when they rededicated the temple, they decided to do Sukkot out of season and therefore instituted a brand new holiday. They understood themselves as in relationship with God and the process of history.
The rabbis did, too. They said “asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav”, they declared a festival to have been given to us by God, even though they knew very well that the people who instituted the holiday were people. But they saw God as involved in the process of history, in relationship with them, and so we all say it, too.
Some of the rabbis of the 20th Century understood this. They understood that after 2,000 years of exile, coming back to the homeland was miraculous.
It takes a certain courage to look at life and see God there. It especially takes courage when things are not easy - and yes, right now, things are not easy. But let’s not forget that things were not easy for the Maccabees, who fought tooth and nail against an empire; things were not easy for the generations of classical rabbis, who saw the destruction of the Temple and the early centuries afterwards, who had to reshape Jewish life if it were to survive.
Seeing ourselves as part of the transmission of Judaism, as part of the unfolding history of the our people, and as in relationship with God, is - to my eye - fundamentally what it means to be a religious Jew. If we really believe that, we will not be afraid to grow; we will not be afraid that the Judaism of the 22nd Century might not look exactly like the Judaism of the 21st.
Hopefully they will have found brand new miracles to say blessings over.
Shabbat shalom. Happy Hanukkah.
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