Looking at the endless rows of candles in my news feed. Outside. Candles in my own house.
So much light.
And I'm thinking that Chanuka is a celebration designed for the Exile. A holiday in memory of heroism, when our distant ancestors won on the battle field and earned the right to believe and practice as they they saw right. And all the later attempts to shift the victory into the world of spirit. It took 5 Roman legions to crush tiny Judea, same amount as Julius Caesar drafted for Gallic wars. But Jews have vowed to abstain from assuming the hands of Esav role ever again. Chanuka became a peaceful memory of a miracle of oil, with the battle background shoved aside.
But no.
Think about the dark, smelly and dangerous world of the Middle Ages. The enormous amount of daring required to declare out loud, I belong to the ancient persecuted religion. Yes, I'm one of those who crucified your god. Who rejected your prophet. Who poisoned the wells/drank blood.... or whatever they chose to believe about us. To stand unarmed, holding no rights, with only the faith at their side, opposing the vast numbers of locals. Perhaps, at least as much as going out to battle on foot against heavily armored battle elephants. To remember our miracles out loud, to declare that God hadn't forsaken us just yet, to parade those candles in front of the whole world - demanded an unusual amount of bravery. Perhaps that's what our Sages intended, perhaps not...
Where do we hold today? Is it military heroism or the bookish memory of miracles of the olden days? What do we declare today? What is bravery in our day and age?
What do you say?
