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Chanukah isn’t ‘Jewish Christmas’

To know the holiday of Chanukah is to come to terms with a series of contradictions.
[additional-authors]
December 22, 2016

To know the holiday of Chanukah is to come to terms with a series of contradictions. While simultaneously a story of temporal triumph over religious intolerance and bigotry as well as timeless spiritual recognition of divine intervention, Chanukah has been commodified as nothing more than an alternative for Jewish kids who feel left out by the complete dominance of Christmas. The spirit of Chanukah has been usurped by secular materialism and the quest for unsustainable acquisition. While the need to buy vast amounts of presents has been tolerated as an excuse to tell children that they don’t have to feel deprived, there is something unseemly about the celebration of a human rights victory being supplanted by the short-term satisfaction that a new toy or trinket can provide.

At the same time, the tightrope between exclusion and assimilation is one that Jewish children have to traverse every holiday season. Considering this, does the disconnect between normative Jewish ethics and the desire to be included in something that seems relatively harmless warrant serious attention? Based on the economic realities of the holiday shopping season, and the intertwining of materialism and Chanukah, I am of the opinion that there is an aspect of the holiday that is deleterious to the Jewish people, morally and religiously.

Last year’s holiday earnings netted retailers about $616 billion, according to the National Retail Federation. This year, Black Friday set a sales record of $3.35 billion, and it is estimated that more than 200 million Americans shopped online or in stores. On Cyber Monday, consumers spent another record amount, $3.45 billion. In contrast, Giving Tuesday (a once-annual event) raised $168 million in donations to nonprofit organizations, a relative pittance. There comes a moment when we have to reflect and discern if Jewish values are congruent with the vulgar sums of money spent on transitory pleasure.

This is not asceticism, or anti-corporate, or anti-consumption, but merely a call for ethical restraint. I don’t mean to be a buzzkill and stop children from receiving gifts from their parents. Far from it. But we should take a moment to step back and see the larger picture. The true meaning of Chanukah has been obscured by the alluring power of the fleeting gift. Indeed, I would argue that the modern practice of Chanukah is far removed from the norms that should be acceptable in contemporary Jewish practice. In this early part of the 21st century, we are bombarded by a culture that revels in the endless hoarding of novelties. Just watch the commercials during your favorite television program. Every day, advertisers stream their wares across the ether, telling us we aren’t complete even with the latest car models, latest video game systems, jewelry and assorted flotsam that is ephemeral in its utility, at best.

So then, what is the true spirit of Chanukah? If it’s not the focus on giving to one another, where are we to direct our energies to have a meaningful holiday? The first course of action is to recollect the distinctive origin of Chanukah. While children are taught about the miracle in the reconsecrated Temple after an arduous war against the Seleucids, the run-up to the miracle is just as important. It’s easy to stereotype the actions of the Maccabees as simple zealotry, but it’s not as simple at second glance. The abject cruelty with which their oppressors usurped the way of life for the ancient Jews was another formative instance of a culture determined to devastate Judaism’s singular religious vision. Hellenism was indeed hell for the ancient, pious Jews simply trying to follow the tenets of their faith.

It is, ironically, the trap of Hellenism that American Jews may have fallen into at present. Nowhere else in the world is Chanukah so celebrated. While it might be difficult to reflect on such a notion, the fact is — sadly — that many Jews have looked beyond the teachings of the Chanukah story and have instead chosen to embrace a path of luxury and materialism over spiritual renewal. Granted, not many look to Chanukah as a spiritually edifying holiday. But the underlying purpose of the miracle story has always been to commemorate and recognize that forces beyond human comprehension are central to the Jewish experience. By focusing attention on material objects, we have abdicated a portion of our religious identity. Many Jews today are so wrapped up (forgive the pun) in participating in a Christmas culture that the separation between ancient tradition and current aspirations becomes ever more perceptible.

Our consumption should be infused with a consciousness of production’s impact on workers, animals, the environment and the health of consumers. Chanukah is about how a little bit of oil was enough. Just a little bit of oil produced a lot of light. Our commitment to spending wisely is of great consequence in an era when our consumerism may be the greatest expression of our Jewish values. It is the most consistent and consequential act we engage in on a daily basis.

Rabbi Bahya ibn Pakuda, the 11th-century Jewish philosopher, illustrates how materialism can overcome one’s intellectual and spiritual sensibilities:

“The [material] world rules them, stopping up their ears and closing their eyes. There is not one among them who occupies himself with anything but his own pleasure — wherever he can attain it and the opportunity presents itself. [Pleasure] becomes his law and religion, driving him away from God” (Chovot HaLevavot, “On Deprivation,” 9:2).

As a spiritual practice, one strives for hafshatat ha’gashmiut (removing excessive materialism) in order to reach a higher spiritual plane. With access to virtually any product at only the click of a finger, it can feel very powerful and rewarding to acquire with such ease. Judaism comes to place a pause between stimulus and response, between desire and fulfillment. Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik articulated this well:

“With the birth of the norm, man becomes aware of his singularly human existence, which expresses itself in the dichotomous experience of being unfree, restricted, imperfect and unredeemed, and, at the same time, being potentially powerful, great and exalted, uniquely endowed, capable of rising far above his environment in response to the divine moral challenge” (“The Lonely Man of Faith”).

If we are to strengthen Judaism’s moral authority on the greater parts of society, shaking off the fetters of crass consumerism is step one. The false idols of material accumulation have engulfed us. We have to take back our most closely held Jewish values if Chanukah is going to become relevant again.

And while it may seem counterintuitive, we have nothing to gain by trying to compete with the overwhelming amount of Christmas culture that dominates the popular imagination during this time of the year. Nor should we attempt to try in the first place. The notion that Chanukah needed to be an alternative to Jewish children is a lamentable aspect of assimilation. We don’t need to be held hostage by the voices that say: “Buy more and more and more.”

No! We can reject those false ideals and instead position Chanukah as a force for spiritual victories. To do so, we must reject stuff. We must reject the notion that Chanukah is the “Jewish Christmas.” We must reject the paradigm that doesn’t embrace the radical significance of the Maccabean revolution.

In this life, we are tasked with ensuring that the ethical precepts of our ancestors are upheld every single day. Although it may seem innocent to shower kids with presents during the holiday season, I fear that the blind eye given toward a consumer culture, rather than a giving culture, will harm us. We should teach the next generation of leaders that acquiring the latest fads in technology and culture isn’t a goal worth pursuing. We are to remain vigilant and ward off the idolatry of decadence. Learning to give back, learning to develop oneself, and learning to fend off spiritual iniquities, that is the true legacy of the Chanukah miracle.


Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is executive director of the Valley Beit Midrash, founder and president of Uri L’Tzedek, founder and CEO of the Shamayim V’Aretz Institute and the author of “Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” 

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