Tag: Chanukah
A new family tradition
(photo by Mark Binder)
Rachel Cohen stared at the full box of candles. Since her parents had separated, getting ready for Hanukkah wasn’t the same. Four candles were broken. Of course.
She chewed on her lower lip.
In the old days, her family had gathered around the kitchen table, and argued about who would light the shammos and who would light the first candle.*
“You did it last year,” her twin brother Yakov always insisted.
“No,” Rachel would counter. “I lit the shammos, which is better.”
“No, it’s not. The first candle is best.”
“Children, hush,” their mother, Sarah, would say as she flipped a potato latke. “You’ll disturb your father.”
Their father, Isaac, would be looking at his little book, pretending to mumble prayers, while holding back a smile.
The compromise was always the same. Rachel would light the shammos, which was better, and Yakov would light the first candle, which made him happy, too.
This year, her parents lived in different houses, and Hanukkah wouldn’t be the same. Rachel didn’t know what to do. She felt small, helpless and embarrassed.
In the village of Chelm, 12-year-old Rachel Cohen was known as the smartest young girl, someone whose wisdom was both sought after and respected.
“If you don’t know what to do,” everyone said, “ask Rachel Cohen, and whatever she says, do that!”
Rachel knew that she wasn’t really that brilliant. But whenever someone asked her a question, she either had the answer, or knew how or where to find it.
“The secret of being wise,” Rabbi Kibbitz had once taught her, “is to listen quietly for as long as you can without saying anything. Ask a few questions, and then nod your head and wait until the answer arises. Most of the time, they’ll think of it themselves, and then give you all the credit.”
Rachel nodded her head and asked herself, “But what does a so-called wise person do, when they don’t know the answer?”
She looked around the kitchen, which was also silent.
Then it came to her, and she smiled.
* * *
The bell over the door to Mrs. Chaipul’s restaurant rang and, without looking up, the elderly woman behind the counter told Rachel, “Your mother’s gone to the market in Smyrna to get potatoes for the latkes.”
“Can we talk?” Rachel asked quietly.
Mrs. Chaipul glanced at the young girl, nodded her head and shouted, “All right, the restaurant is closed until lunch for a health and safety inspection!”
Most of the men finished drinking their tea or coffee, put on their coats and headed to the door.
Reb Cantor the merchant didn’t budge. “I thought you already paid the health and safety inspector.”
“This is for your health and safety,” Mrs. Chaipul told the merchant. “Because I won’t guarantee it if you stay.”
Reb Cantor smiled, stood and kissed Rachel on the top of her head as he left the restaurant.
Mrs. Chaipul locked the door behind him and led Rachel to the table in back, where she’d already placed two cups of hot herbal tea.
The young girl and the old woman sat across from each other, lifted their cups at the same time, and blew.
* * *
Mrs. Chaipul listened as Rachel explained, “On the first night of Hanukkah, our family starts with eight candles ablaze, and then we light one fewer each night. This, my father says, echoes the Maccabees’ fear that the oil in the eternal light might burn out at any moment.
“But, on the last night, where there would only be one candle and the shammos, we changed the tradition and light all eight again. For us, the last night is a true celebration of joy. My mother says it’s just nice to have all the extra lights.
“This Hanukkah, Yakov and I are supposed to take turns, one night with Mama and the next with Papa. I want things to be the same, but no matter how hard I try to rearrange it, the number of candles always comes out uneven. Plus, four of our candles are already broken, which seems like a sign!”
Rachel waited for Mrs. Chaipul to tell her how to solve the problem. But Mrs. Chaipul didn’t say anything. She was married to Rabbi Kibbitz, and kept her own name, which is another story. She’d often chided her husband that it was better to keep your mouth shut than to put your foot into it.
Rachel sighed. She sipped her tea.
Then she smiled, and nodded. She suddenly knew what to do. “Thank you, Mrs. Chaipul. I need to hurry and buy more candles.”
Mrs. Chaipul gave Rachel a hug. “I didn’t do anything. But I wish you well.”
Rachel ran from the restaurant, and Mrs. Chaipul reopened the front door for the lunch crowd.
* * *
That year, Rachel Cohen changed their tradition again.
“Whether we are with mother or father,” she told her brother, “instead of lighting eight or seven or one, each night we will take turns lighting all eight Hanukkah candles.”
Yakov was upset. “So many candles seems wasteful. And that isn’t the way Hanukkah is supposed to be celebrated!”
“Everything changes,” Rachel said, “and it’s up to us to make it new again. This way, the time we spend together will be even brighter.”
“All right.” Yakov shrugged. “But I light the first candle.”
“You did it last time.” Rachel smiled. “But that’s fine. Lighting the shammos is better….”
Izzy Abrahmson is the author of Winter Blessings and The Village Twins. He’s also a pen name for storyteller Mark Binder. Find the books on Amazon and Audible, with signed copies and links to the audio version of this story at izzyabe.com and markbinderbooks.com.
***
*A note on candlelighting
A shammos is the candle that is used as a match to light the other candles. While most people follow the tradition of Rabbi Hillel, lighting one candle the first night of Hanukkah and then adding candles each night, the followers of Rabbi Shammai start with eight and work their way down. Rachel Cohen is not yet a rabbi, but who knows what the future will bring.
– IA
Hanukkah in the Diaspora
The reason that is ascribed to the House of Hillel for the custom that we follow in lighting the candles is that we go upwards in holiness. (photo by Maor X)
Hanukkah lives in the sweet spot where there is one story that claims it is “historically true” and yet there is very little contemporary evidence to back this up – the earliest account being written generations after the events – and there is another story, a miracle story whose earliest recording is centuries after its supposed occurrence. We go with the miracle story.
There was no love lost between the rabbis and the Hasmoneans. There are several legends about rabbis (i.e. Shimon ben Shatah) confronting the Hasmonean king Yannai (e.g. Sanhedrin 19a-b) and Yannai killing sages (Kidushin 66a). So, it is not surprising that the rabbis did not glorify the Hasmonean victory, and chose to centre a different legend, which seems to have arisen in the first centuries of the common era. The additional prayer (called Al Hanisim) that is added to the central prayer does not mention the miracle of the oil. The earliest mention of the miracle of the oil is in the commentary (the “scholion”) to a first-century list of holidays called Megillat Ta’anit. This commentary is not mentioned in the Palestinian Talmud. Its first appearance is in the Babylonian Talmud many centuries later.
While this may point to a choice for the miracle story over the martial story, the martial story did not fade away. It arose from time to time, gaining full rehabilitation with the birth of the Zionist movement, whose adherents looked to the Maccabees for ancestral precedent. However, this is not my point.
The earliest rabbinic legal discussion of the obligations of Hanukkah (as opposed to mentioning Hanukkah in passing) is not in the Palestinian Mishnah. It is in a supposed Palestinian baraita (“outside” teaching) quoted in the Babylonian Talmud and not in the Palestinian Talmud. This is the famous debate between the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai as to whether one lights one candle on the first night and then adds a candle each night (Hillel); or, conversely, one lights eight candles on the first night and then subtracts a candle each night (Shammai). This is followed by the obligation to light the candelabrum in the doorway, outside or, if one lives on an upper floor, in the window.
These are the earliest legal discussions of Hanukkah. There are others. The salient point is that many of the laws have to do with the placement of the candelabrum in order to publicize the miracle (pirsumei nisa). One might have thought that a holiday whose legend included the purification of the Temple would have had a Temple-like ritual at its centre. Instead, even the candelabrum does not replicate the seven-branched Temple candelabrum. The focus of the holiday obligations is marking Jewish space. Facing outward at the moment that people return from the market. If one has two entrances, the Talmud asks, does one have to light in both places?
Hanukkah is a diasporic holiday that celebrates place. This place where we are now is the place in which we announce the miracle. This is not a second-rate reminder of a ritual whose better form would have been and will be ensconced in the Temple. It is a diasporic ritual that lays claim to diasporic Jewish space.
This places Hanukkah on the same axis as Purim, again a holiday that is about and in Diaspora, and would not make sense in the Land of Israel. However, the difference is Purim posits that redemption is impossible and that, as long as the king is maliciously or foolishly evil, there will be a never-ending drama in which first Haman succeeds and then Mordecai succeeds. Hanukkah celebrates the fact of being here. Light in whatever many religious or secular metaphors it is clothed is brought into these Jewish spaces. The reason that is ascribed to the House of Hillel for the custom that we follow in lighting the candles is that we go upwards in holiness and not the opposite. We light the candles and increase the holiness. Here.
Hanukkah is a diasporic holiday in that it is portable. The celebration of Hanukkah defines the space that is celebrated as a Jewish space – like a mezuzah on a doorpost or an eruv (ritual boundary) in a city. Like these other markers, it creates Jewish space that is non-exclusive. Jewish space that has permeable boundaries. Jewish space that lives in proximity to others, despite the fact that this proximity is risky. From the start, the halakhah (Jewish law) of Hanukkah decided that, in a time of danger, one need not light the candelabrum on the outside or facing out, rather one may light inside on a table.
When we light candles today, we again announce that we live in Jewish spaces that are proximate to other spaces and, while we embrace this proximity, we are aware that it is risky – and yet still we increase the holiness, the light, from day to day. Here, in this time, and in this place.
Rabbi Aryeh Cohen is a fellow of the Kogod Research Centre at the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America and professor of rabbinic literature at the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies of the American Jewish University, where he teaches courses in Talmud. He is also the rabbi in residence for Bend the Arc: Jewish Action in Southern California. For more articles by Cohen, visit jewschool.com, where the original of this article can be found. For articles by other Shalom Hartman scholars, visit hartman.org.il.
Courage, wit, charm and cheese …
Ideas for your holiday meals
Lamb Chops Sizzled with Garlic by Janet Mendel. Photo by Jennifer Causey, food styling by Emily Nabors Hall, prop styling by Claire Spollen.
When Hanukkah arrives, there will be more family and friends to feed. Or, maybe just the “excuse” (not that we need one) to make a special meal for ourselves! However you celebrate, here are a few main dishes – meatballs, lamb chops and a vegetarian gratin – and a couple of vegetarian side options.
TOMATO MEATBALLS
(makes 18)
1 lb ground beef
1/3 cup bread crumbs
1 egg
1 finely grated medium onion
salt and pepper to taste
2 tbsp olive oil
2 crushed garlic cloves
16-ounce can crushed tomatoes
6-ounce can tomato paste
1 cup water
1 1/2 tsp dry basil
- In a bowl, mix together ground beef, breadcrumbs, egg, onion, salt and pepper. Shape into 18 meatballs.
- Heat oil in a frying pan. Brown meatballs and remove.
- Add tomatoes, tomato paste, water and basil to pan. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer, stirring when necessary.
- Add meatballs and continue simmering 10-15 minutes.
- Serve on their own, in a bun or on noodles, rice or any other base of your choice.
SWEET AND SOUR MEATBALLS
(This came from a Heinz ad, and I’ve made it kosher. It makes 40 balls.)
1 lb ground beef
1 cup breadcrumbs
1 egg
2 tbsp minced fresh onion
2 tbsp pareve non-dairy creamer
1 minced garlic clove
salt and pepper to taste
1 tbsp vegetable oil
2/3 cup chili sauce
2/3 cup currant jelly
- Combine beef, breadcrumbs, egg, onion, non-dairy creamer, garlic, salt and pepper. Form into 40 bite-size meatballs (about one teaspoon each).
- Heat oil in a frying pan. Place meatballs in pan, cover and brown lightly for 10 minutes.
- Combine chili sauce and jelly and pour over meatballs. Heat on low heat 10-12 minutes, until sauce has thickened, basting occasionally.
GRILLED HERBED LAMB CHOPS
(6 servings)
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup white wine
1/2 cup minced fresh parsley
1/2 tsp marjoram
1/2 tsp oregano
1/2 tsp basil
1 tbsp minced shallots or white onion
1 minced garlic cloves
6 lamb chops
- In a bowl, combine olive oil, wine, parsley, marjoram, oregano, basil, shallots or white onion and garlic. Add chops and coat well. Marinate two to three hours, turning chops often.
- Grill chops five to six inches from heat, five minutes per side or until medium rare.
LAMB CHOPS SIZZLED WITH GARLIC
(Janet Mendel is an American-born journalist who has lived in Spain for many years. Las Pedroneras is considered the garlic capital of Spain and this recipe on Food & Wine’s website is Mendel’s “homage to the village.” It makes 4 servings.)
8 lamb chops
salt and pepper to taste
thyme
3 tbsp olive oil
10 halved garlic cloves
3 tbsp water
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp fresh minced parsley
- Season lamb chops with salt, pepper and thyme. Heat olive oil in a large frying pan.
- Add lamb chops and garlic and cook over high heat for three minutes. Turn over chops and garlic and cook two minutes longer. Transfer to a plate.
- Add water, lemon juice and parsley, scrape bottom of pan and cook for one minute.
- Pour pan sauce over lamb chops and serve immediately.
OMBRÉ POTATO AND ROOT VEGETABLE GRATIN
(This is a recipe by TV personality and chef Carla Hall, with my changes to make it kosher. You can find the original on Food & Wine’s website. Both make 12 servings.)
unsalted pareve margarine
2 cups non-dairy creamer
3 minced garlic cloves
1 small minced shallot
1/2 tsp nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
1 pound peeled beets, sliced 1/16-inch thick
1 pound peeled sweet potatoes, sliced 1/16-inch thick
1 pound peeled small white potatoes, sliced 1/16-inch thick
1 pound peeled turnips, sliced 1/16-inch thick
- Preheat oven to 375°F. Grease a rectangular baking dish.
- In a bowl, whisk non-dairy creamer with garlic, shallot, nutmeg, salt and pepper.
- In a large bowl, toss beets with a quarter of the cream mixture. Arrange beets in baking dish, overlapping them slightly. Scrape any remaining cream from the bowl over the beets.
- Repeat the process with the sweet potatoes, potatoes and turnips, using a quarter of the cream mixture for each vegetable. Then cover dish with foil.
- Bake for about one hour and 45 minutes. Let cool 15 minutes.
Note: If pareve grated cheese is available, measure one cup and stir it into the whisked cream mixture. After baking, add another 3/4 cup of the grated cheese to the top.
SPAGHETTI SQUASH WITH PEPPER SAUCE
(6 servings)
1 approx 3-pound spaghetti squash
1/4 cup olive oil
1 onion, slivered
2 red peppers, cut into 1/2-inch lengthwise strips
2 yellow peppers, cut into 1/2-inch lengthwise strips
2 chopped tomatoes
1/2 tsp sugar
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, coarsely torn
salt and pepper to taste
- Preheat oven to 375°F. Place pierced squash in a baking pan. Bake for 40 minutes. Turn over and bake another 15-30 minutes, until tender. Turn off oven and let squash remain.
- Heat olive oil in a pot. Add onion and cook 10 minutes.
- Add peppers, season with salt and pepper. Cover and cook 20 minutes.
- Add tomatoes, sugar and basil. Cook uncovered 20 minutes.
- Cut the squash in half and discard seeds. Pull apart strands with a fork. Place in a bowl and add pepper sauce.
QUINOA SALAD WITH SWEET POTATOES AND APPLES
(This is a Food & Wine recipe by food stylist and author Grace Parisi. It makes 10-12 servings.)
8 tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 cups quinoa
salt and pepper to taste
1 1/2 pounds peeled sweet potatoes, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
2 apples, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/2 cup chopped parsley
8 cups packed baby greens, such as arugula and kale
- Preheat oven to 400°F.
- Heat one tablespoon of oil in a saucepan. Add quinoa and cook two minutes. Add three cups water, season with salt and bring to a boil. Cover and simmer 16 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand 10 minutes. Fluff quinoa, spread on baking sheet and refrigerate 20 minutes.
- On another baking sheet, toss sweet potatoes with one tablespoon of oil, salt and pepper. Toast in oven 25 minutes, stirring once. Let cool.
- In a large salad bowl, whisk six tablespoons of oil with vinegar. Season with salt and pepper. Add quinoa, sweet potatoes, apples, parsley and greens and toss. Serve right away.
Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.
Try cookies for dessert
(photo from etsy.com/ca/shop/MaaminShop)
We in Israel are already seeing bakeries displaying sufganiyot for Hanukkah. No doubt the situation is the same in Vancouver and you’ll have plenty of jelly doughnut options, so here are some other sweets for the holiday.
HANUKKAH PUFFS
(makes 3 dozen)
2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tsp nutmeg
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup milk or nondairy substitute
1 egg
oil
cinnamon sugar or confectioner’s sugar
- Warm a substantial amount of oil in a deep pot.
- In a bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder and nutmeg. Mix well. Add oil, milk or nondairy substitute and egg. Mix thoroughly.
- Drop by small teaspoonfuls into deep hot oil. Fry three minutes or until golden brown. Drain on paper towels.
- Roll in cinnamon sugar or confectioner’s sugar.
COOKIE DREIDELS
(makes 5 dozen)
1 cup butter or margarine
8 ounces cream cheese
1/4 cup sour cream
2 1/4 cups flour
2 cups finely ground walnuts
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 egg
1 tsp grated orange rind
- Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease two cookie sheets.
- In a bowl, beat butter or margarine and cream cheese with electric mixer. Beat in sour cream. Stir in flour until dough forms. Form into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap and chill overnight.
- In a bowl, combine nuts, sugar, cinnamon, egg and orange rind.
- The next day, divide dough in half, flour a surface, roll out to an eight-inch square, a quarter-inch thick. Spread half of filling on square, roll up jelly-roll style. Wrap in foil, chill for at least one hour. Repeat with other half of dough.
- Cut rolls in quarter-inch thick slices. Place half-inch apart on cookie sheets. Reshape into rounds. Bake for 15-20 minutes or until firm and brown.
CUT-OUT HANUKKAH COOKIES
(makes 6 dozen)
2/3 cup margarine
2 cups flour
1 egg
3/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp milk
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
- Preheat oven to 375°F.
- Cream margarine. Add half the flour, egg, sugar, milk, baking powder and vanilla. Beat in remaining flour.
- Divide dough in half. Cover and chill three hours.
- Roll out half dough on a floured surface. Cut in Hanukkah shapes with cookie cutters. Place on ungreased cookie sheets. Add coloured sugar on top. Bake for seven to eight minutes.
Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.
Making the best of a mess
Two picture books recently released by Kalaniot Books exemplify the publisher’s mission “to help young children and their families explore the diverse mosaic of Jewish culture and history.”
On the face of it, The Very Best Sukkah: A Story From Uganda by Shoshana Nambi and illustrator Moran Yogev may not seem to have much in common with Mendel’s Hanukkah Mess Up by Chana and Larry Stiefel and illustrator Daphna Awadish. But both charming publications explore the themes of inclusion via the experiences of their youthful protagonists.
The Very Best Sukkah centres around Shoshi, who likes to win any challenge, even when there’s none put forward. For example, despite her brother Avram’s plea for her to wait up, she makes sure to beat the other children to school – again. Shoshi shares, “My grandmother is always reminding me that life is not a competition. ‘Jajja,’ I tell her, ‘it’s not like I always have to win the race. I just like being at the front. The view is better there!’”
Shoshi and her brothers live with their “grandparents in a little house surrounded by coffee trees in the Abayudaya Jewish community of Uganda.” Shoshi races home on Friday nights to help her jajja make the holiday meal, in particular the kalo bread – it’s her job to mix the cassava and millet flour for the dough. The family then walks to synagogue, where the rabbi reminds the kids that their favourite holiday is coming up: Sukkot. The siblings start planning how they will make the best sukkah in the village.
Every family’s sukkah is different, “and each one reflects its builder’s special skills and talents.” For the most part, the differences are respected, but there is jealousy that Daudi, who sells samosas in the village, has enough money saved to buy “fancy battery-operated lights and elegant crochet trim in the big town of Mbale to decorate his sukkah.”
Life has a way of making playing fields level, however, and unfortunate weather one night causes mayhem, even for Daudi and his daughter, especially for Daudi, whose sukkah is destroyed. But the villagers rally around him and, in the end, the most beautiful sukkah is the one to which everyone contributes. A wonderful message, well delivered and boldly and colourfully drawn.
The Very Best Sukkah has a page about the Abayudaya, a glossary of terms and the lyrics of “Hinei Ma Tov” in Hebrew, Luganda and English: “See how good and pleasant it is for brothers and sisters to sit down together.”
Mendel’s Hanukkah Mess Up also features something getting wrecked. In this story, it’s a crashed-up Mitzvah Mobile rather than windblown sukkot. And, whereas it’s nature that destroys Daudi’s sukkah, it’s Mendel who doesn’t notice the bridge that’s so low as to crumple the large chanukiyah on the Mitzvah Mobile’s roof.
Anyone who knew Mendel could have predicted such an outcome when the rabbi asked him to drive the vehicle, as Mendel has a long history of mishaps, including having accidentally left a tray of jelly doughnuts on the rabbi’s chair. “Splat! ‘Oy, Mendel.’”
The unique nature of the vehicle and the accident draw a TV news team to the scene.
“‘What’s the story here?’ asked Rachel, the reporter.
“‘Um, well…’ Mendel’s words mushed like applesauce. ‘I blew it again,’ he sighed.
“Then Mendel thought of the lessons Rabbi Klein taught him. He stood up taller, like the shamash – the special Hanukkah candle that lights all of the others.
“As Mendel faced the camera, his words began to flow like silky sour cream.
“‘Hanukkah shows us the power of every person to make a difference. To rise up like the Jewish soldier Judah Maccabee fighting the mighty Greeks,’” he told Rachel. ‘If a tiny flask of oil can light up a menorah for eight days, we each have a spark to light up the world.’”
Mendel manages to turn his mistake into a win – spreading the story and joy of Hanukkah. It’s a fun story, with illustrations that are imaginative, engaging and detailed.
Mendel’s Hanukkah Mess Up ends with the story of Hanukkah and a glossary, instructions on how to play dreidel, the words to “Oh, Hanukkah” and a recipe for potato latkes, meant to be used by the young readers and their chosen adult.
For more information on these and other books, visit kalaniotbooks.com.
Community lights shine
Richmond Mayor Malcolm Brodie speaks to those assembled at RJDS’s Celebration of Light event. (photo by Adele Lewin Photography)
Richmond Jewish Day School is on No. 5 Road, which has been named the “Highway to Heaven” because it is home to more than 30 places of worship, education and cultural practice. The temples, churches and religious schools all celebrate light during the winter season and RJDS’s Celebration of Light event celebrated the diversity within the school and throughout Richmond.

On the last night of Chanukah, Dec. 5, RJDS hosted a night of coexistence, unity and light. After parking at the India Cultural Centre, folks aged 5 to 70 lined up at the entrance as the school gym filled with excitement. The night moved through hopeful speeches given by Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver; Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman of Chabad Richmond; Rabbi Susan Tendler from Beth Tikvah Congregation; Richmond Mayor Malcolm Brodie; and Richmond City Councilor Bill McNulty. The words “bridges,” “freedom,” “unity,” “light” and “together” echoed. Also in attendance were city councilors Andy Hobbs and Alexa Loo, showing their support.

The RJDS Choir sang classic Chanukah songs, including a piece that called upon the audience to “celebrate our light,” and the school’s Israeli dancers showcased two Israeli dances.

The voices of RJDS’s neighbours were also heard. The school sent the question out to the community asking what “light” means to them during this holiday season. Each response had a different point of view, however, at the core, every answer reflected on hope, optimism, knowledge, community, compassion, joy, openness, anticipation and the goodness in humanity. Respondents included Navshina Savory from the Richmond School District, Umran Bhatti from the Ahmadiyya Muslim community, Balwant Sanghera from Gurdwara Nanak Niwas (and chair of the Highway to Heaven Association), Edward James Wong from St. Monica Parish Roman Catholic Church, Baha’i community representatives, and Russ Klein and Rabbi Stephen Berger from King David High School. They all had thoughtful insights and their participation was appreciated, as was that of everyone who spoke at, attended and otherwise contributed to this event.
On their way out, guests could help themselves to coffee, water and Chanukah delights like latkes, sufganiyot and other fried goods. The night ended with hearts filled with the warmth that unity, a strong community and good food on a cold winter night can bring.
– Courtesy RJDS
Two modern-day Maccabees
Left to right: Amit Shmuel, Eitan Feiger and Matan Roettger. (photo by Bentzi Sasson)
On Nov. 24, Chabad UBC invited two former Israel Defence Forces soldiers to the Nest on the University of British Columbia campus to speak about their personal stories and life lessons from serving in the army.
Amit Shmuel, a former soldier in the elite Palchan unit, and Matan Roettger, a former soldier in the Kfir Brigade, shared some of their experiences in service; stories of their courage and the sacrifice they made protecting and defending the state of Israel, and especially of their perseverance in the face of suffering and adversity. Both suffered career-ending injuries in the line of duty, and their strength and resilience to mentally and physically recover from their trauma were remarkable.
The two soldiers were at UBC as part of a larger tour of college campuses all across North America, along with Belev Echad, an organization dedicated to providing financial and moral support to IDF veterans wounded in action and to easing their transition back into civilian life.
The local event was sponsored by Hasbara Fellowships, which helps train young student leaders to become Israel ambassadors and activists on campus. As a Hasbara Fellow myself and having firsthand experience in Israel, I found the stories of Shmuel and Roettger to accurately represent the victory of hope over despair, the value of the sanctity of life, freedom and dignity that have been deeply encoded in the fabric of Israeli society and the Jewish community worldwide.
Just as the Maccabees 2,000 years ago rededicated the Second Temple from destruction to restoration, so too did these two modern-day Maccabees rededicate their lives from tragedy to triumph. They inspire us to not focus on what we cannot control, but rather on what we can: to elevate our attitude and response toward life’s misfortunes by sharing with others our light of faith and hope for a brighter future.
Eitan Feiger is a student at the University of British Columbia, class of 2024.
Ideas worth the fight
During Chanukah, we celebrate the victory of light over darkness, of the triumph of our values over the hegemonizing ideals and practices of the oppressor.
A crucial part of Jewish tradition is applying the wisdom of the past to the challenges of today. And the world is full of challenges today. One of those closest to home for some of us is the culture and climate at universities. Over the past two decades, we have witnessed growing anti-Israel activity and antisemitism on campus.
Concurrently, a new orthodoxy has emerged, which is viewed by many as an overdue reckoning and by some as ideological overreach. This shift is typified by an intolerance or rejection of ideas that are deemed intolerant or worse. Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia and ideological extremism have been targeted by growing numbers of students and faculty, which, on its face, is progress. Even so, issues with this evolution include who is doing the judging, as well as where intolerance of intolerance intrudes on academic growth and ideological diversity, which is the lifeblood of the institutions.
A confounding aspect of campus culture today is that, in an ideal world, anti-Jewish sentiments would be included in the panoply of censured ideas. Instead, too often, the people who are denouncing racism are carving out exceptions in this one instance, as many voices have observed. (David Baddiel’s book Jews Don’t Count was reviewed in these pages recently.)
In a curious development, it has recently been announced that a group of academics, activists and entrepreneurs are set to open a whole new university. The University of Austin, to be soft-launched in Texas next year, intends to be a petri dish for unfettered “academic freedom.”
The historian Niall Ferguson, who is one of the proponents of the new school, has written of the problem they intend to address, using some of the reductive shorthand now deployed in this larger “culture war”: “Trigger warnings. Safe spaces. Preferred pronouns. Checked privileges. Microaggressions. Antiracism. All these terms are routinely deployed on campuses throughout the English-speaking world as part of a sustained campaign to impose ideological conformity in the name of diversity. As a result, it often feels as if there is less free speech and free thought in the American university today than in almost any other institution in the U.S.”
The University of Austin appears to be a product of frustration. The state of campus discourse today is problematic in many ways. But there is a larger principle at stake. If there is a problem in the academy at large, is the solution to pack up one’s books and ghettoize into a whole new school? Around the globe, liberal values are under threat by totalitarianism on both extremes of the political spectrum from left to right. The campus environment reflects and is a contributor to the trends in society, how we relate to one another and ourselves, as well as organize our politics and affiliations. We do not have the ability (yet) to decamp to another planet because of rampant illiberalism on this one. Similarly, while we do have the capacity to segregate ourselves into alternative institutions, is that in any way going to improve the broader issue?
Ironically, the purpose of the University of Austin appears to be to create a space for uncomfortable ideas. But isn’t that precisely what they are running away from? As in so many things in life, we have a choice: flee or stay and fight.
Academia is one of the places where we address, however awkwardly and inconclusively, concerns like power, class, race, gender, legacies of colonialism and many, many more. If the voices of intellectual homogeneity on campus are determined to shelter students from disturbing topics, or to instil in them a uniform, facile response, is it the proper reaction to give them what they want?
It is understandable and tempting to abandon the institutions that betray our values or challenge our identities. It is also understandable and tempting to want to have a whole institution that reflects back our values and reinforces our identities. Neither scenario sits well within Judaism’s long tradition of debate and critical thinking. And neither scenario makes for a healthy society.
Our only reasonable response in life – and especially at supposed institutions of higher learning – is to continue engaging in the battle of ideas, however daunting and hopeless the fight might appear.
Chanukah is but one of the Jewish holidays that teach us miracles can happen – but that they don’t happen on their own. We have an active role to play in this world, and should always be looking for ways to bring light into it.