CHABAD Magazine – Tuesday, Kislev 23, 5774 · November 26, 2013

CHABAD Magazine – Tuesday, Kislev 23, 5774 · November 26, 2013

Editor's Note:

Dear Friend,

Unless you've been living under a rock, you no doubt know by now that the first day of Chanukah this year coincides with the American Thanksgiving.

The media, both regular and social, has been abuzz about this unique, once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Everyone has something to say about it.

But perhaps the most interesting part of this coincidence is that it really is no coincidence at all. Chanukah and Thanksgiving have a lot in common.

Chanukah celebrates the victory of the Maccabees, who vanquished the mighty Greek oppressors, rededicated the Temple, and lit the menorah—with oil that lasted for eight days. The celebrations are our expression of thanks to G‑d for enabling us to serve Him despite persecution.

And then, some 1,800 years later, after a group of individuals journeyed across the Atlantic in search of religious freedom, the last Thursday of November (later changed to the fourth Thursday) was proclaimed as a day of "public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty G‑d."

Let's give our gratitude concrete expression by lighting the Chanukah candles and helping others do the same. It is the least we can do to say "thank you!"

Eliezer Zalmanov,

on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team

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Daily Thought:

Dark Knowing Light

That the spark of G‑d within us will ponder G‑d, what is the surprise?

But when the animal within us lifts its eyes to the heavens, when the dark side of a human creature lets in a little light, that is truly wondrous. How can darkness know light? How can earth know heaven?

Only with the power of He who is beyond heaven and earth, and so too is neither darkness nor light.

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This Week's Features:

http://www.chabad.org/holidays/chanukah/default_cdo/jewish/Hanukkah.htm

Hanukkah

Chanukah Basics

How-To

Chanukah Story

Insights & Stories

Videos and Songs

Chanukah Recipes

1. Chabad of Downtown S. Diego

S. Diego, CA USA 619-702-8518 Additional contact info

Events       Approximate Distance from Zip Code 92104: 2.2 miles

Displaying 5 of 5 events that matched your criteria at this location   

    Thanksgiving/ Chanukah Dinner

Thursday, November 28, 2013 - 5:00 PM

Location: 472 Third Avenue - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

    Kiddush Luncheon

Saturday, November 30, 2013 - 12:15 PM

Location: 472 Third Avenue - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

    GIANT CAN MENORAH LIGHTING

Sunday, December 01, 2013 - 1:00 PM

Location: Broadway Circle - Horton Plaza 79 Horton Plaza - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

    Torah Studies Course

Monday, December 02, 2013 - 7:00 PM

Location: 472 Third Avenue - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

    RCS Women's Monthly Class

Wednesday, December 04, 2013 - 7:00 PM

Location: 472 Third Avenue - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

View all events at this center that matched your criteria.

2. Chabad of East County

La Mesa, CA USA  619-387-8770 Additional contact info

Events       Approximate Distance from Zip Code 92104: 2.2 miles

Displaying 1 of 1 events that matched your criteria at this location   

    Public Menorah Lighting

Sunday, December 01, 2013 - 4:00 PM

Location: Westfield Mission Valley 1640 Camino Del Rio N - San Diego, CA   (More Info)

View all events at this center that matched your criteria.

3. Chabad of Pacific Beach

S. Diego, CA USA 619-333-0344 Additional contact info

Events       Approximate Distance from Zip Code 92104: 6.7 miles

Displaying 2 of 2 events that matched your criteria at this location   

    Light the Night at Belmont Par

Sunday, December 01, 2013 - 4:30 PM

Location: Belmont Park 3146 Mission Blvd - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

    The most rockin Chanuka party

Tuesday, December 03, 2013 - 7:30 PM

Location: Firehouse Pacific Beach 722 Grand Avenue - S. Diego, CA   (More Info)

View all events at this center that matched your criteria.

4. Chabad without Borders: Chula Vista & Tijuana

Chula Vista, CA USA   619-726-4645 Additional contact info  

Events       Approximate Distance from Zip Code 92104: 12.7 miles

Displaying 2 of 2 events that matched your criteria at this location   

    Chanukah Celebration @ Otay Ranch Mall

Monday, December 02, 2013 - 5:30 PM

Location: OTAY RANCH MALL @ Food Court/Fountain 2015 Birch Road - Chula Vista, CA   (More Info)

    Chanukah Celebration @ Otay Ranch Mall

Monday, December 02, 2013 - 5:30 PM

Location: OTAY RANCH MALL @ Food Court/Fountain 2015 Birch Road - Chula Vista, CA   (More Info)

View all events at this center that matched your criteria.

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CHANUKAH

15 of the Wildest, Boldest and Most Interesting Menorahs

Menorahs can be as beautiful and diverse as the communities that make them. We’ve looked around the world and gathered fifteen of the wildest menorahs we could find! by Mordechai Lightstone

In recent years, the menorah has become a universal symbol of religious freedom and the power of even a small light to illuminate the darkest of nights. But what does it take for a series of candles to actually be considered a menorah? It turns out that after meeting a few basic requirements, not very much. The flames (no lightbulbs, please!) must be arranged in a straight line and at the same height (save for the “shamash” used to light the eight candles), the flames must burn for at least half an hour after nightfall, and the menorah itself must be no taller than 37 feet. Beyond that, though, menorahs can be as beautiful and diverse as the communities that make them. We’ve looked around the world and gathered fifteen of the wildest menorahs we could find!

1. The Menorah That Turned the Ice of Winter into a Source of Warmth

This ice menorah was carved on the Cornell campus in Ithaca, NY.

2. The Menorah That Kept the Light of Day Shining, Deep into the Night

(Lubavitch.com)

(Lubavitch.com)

Each bulb is solar-powered in this unique menorah erected in Woodstock, NY. Though the electric menorah wasn’t kosher for the mitzvah, it shed a little light in the hamlet that brought us “Days of Peace and Music.”

3. The Menorah Made of Oily Treats to Remind Us of the Oil that Burned for Eight Days in the Holy Temple . . .

(JewishNews.net.au)

(JewishNews.net.au)

Or at least made us seriously question our diets.

4. The Menorah that Just Makes Us Hungry

(youtube)

(youtube)

It’s made of chocolate!

5. The Menorah that Reminds Us that Chanukah Gelt Doesn’t Just Mean Chocolate Coins

Chanukah gelt gives children the chance to learn how to best use their money . . . including sharing with others the good things that come to us.

6. The Ultimate Frat Menorah

Made at the University of Minnesota.

7. One Of The World’s First Giant Menorahs

(Lubavitch.com)

(Lubavitch.com)

This giant menorah was erected by Rolling Stones promoter Bill Graham in S. Francisco’s Union Square. Among those pictured are Rabbi Chaim Drizin (second from the left) and beatnik author Herbert Gold (center).

8. The Menorah That Stands for Religious Freedom for All

(American Friends of Lubavitch)

(American Friends of Lubavitch)

During the Chanukah story, the Maccabees stood up against tyranny to defend their right to worship in the tradition of their fathers. Today the National Menorah in Washington, D.C., stands as a majestic reminder of the freedom that America fosters.

9. The World’s Largest Menorah

(Ronagam.blogspot.com)

(Ronagam.blogspot.com)

Jewish law sets a limit for the maximum height of the menorah at 37 feet—any higher, and people are likely not to look up and see it. This giant menorah lit every year in Manhattan was designed by famed Israeli artist Yaakov Agam.

10. The Tiki Torch Menorah in Hawaii

(JewishKauai.org)

(JewishKauai.org)

Who said that it has to snow on Chanukah?

11. The Oh-So-French Menorah

Kindled each year in front of the Eiffel Tower, this special menorah has been a Parisian tradition since 1989.

12. The Menorah That Never Forgets

The Syrian-Greeks famously used elephants in battle against the Maccabees. This pachyderm tromps around Thailand bearing testimony to the victory of light over might.

13. The Great Wall of China Menorah

Jews first came to China sometime during the Tang Dynasty, in the 7th century. This menorah, however, is probably a first.

14. The Menorah That Defied the Nazis

(YadVashem.blogspot.com)

(YadVashem.blogspot.com)

This menorah, photographed the winter of 1931 in Kiel, Germany, survived the war and reminds us of our continued resilience despite all oppression.

15. The Menorah That Brought Light in a Community’s Darkest Hour

Just weeks after terror attacks in Mumbai, India, killed more than 170 people, among them Chabad representatives Rabbi Gabi and Rivka Holtzberg and four of their guests, Rabbi Shimon Rosenberg, father of Rivka, lit the menorah at Mumbai’s Gateway to India.

Rabbi Mordechai Lightstone is a rabbi by training, but a blogger by choice. He is passionate about using new media to further Jewish identity and community building. Mordechai currently resides in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife and two sons, where he happily tweets between sips of espresso.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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More in Chanukah:

    • Your Personal Printable Chanukah Guide

The Chanukah lights are lit in the evenings preceding each of the eight days of Chanukah, beginning with Wednesday night, November 27, 2013, after nightfall. Please see the section “Special Shabbat Requirements” for special instructions regarding lighting the candles before Shabbat.

Both men and women are obligated to light the Chanukah menorah, or to participate in the household menorah lighting. Children should be encouraged to light their own menorahs. Students and singles who live in dormitories or their own apartments should kindle menorahs in their own rooms.

Many have the custom to place the menorah in a doorway opposite the mezuzah (such is the custom of Chabad-Lubavitch), so that the two mitzvot of mezuzah and Chanukah surround the person. Others place it on a windowsill facing a public thoroughfare. (If placed on the windowsill, it should be no higher than 20 cubits—about 29 feet—above street level.)

The Chanukah lights should consist of lamps or candles—i.e., a flammable fuel that feeds a visible flame via a wick. The most ideal way to fulfill the mitzvah is with cotton wicks in olive oil, or beeswax candles; paraffin candles or other types of candles or lamps are also acceptable, but not gas lights or electric lights. (If circumstances do not allow the use of an open flame, a proper rabbinical authority should be consulted.)

The lamps or candles must contain enough fuel, at the time of the lighting, to burn until half an hour after nightfall. (“Nightfall" is the point at which it grows dark enough for three average-sized stars to be visible—about 20–30 minutes after sunset, depending on the location.)

The lamps or candles should be arranged in a straight row, and should be of equal height. The shamash—the “servant” candle that kindles the other lights—should be placed apart from the rest (higher, outside the row, etc.).

On the first night of Chanukah, one light is kindled on the right side of the menorah. On the following night add a second light to the left of the first, and kindle the new light first, proceeding from left to right, and so on each night.

The Chanukah lights are kindled in the evening preceding each of the eight days of Chanukah. The custom of many communities (and such is the Chabad-Lubavitch custom) is to light the menorah shortly after sunset; other communities light it at nightfall. In either case, the menorah must contain enough fuel at the time of the lighting to burn until 30 minutes after nightfall. Note: The standard Chanukah candles last only approximately 30 minutes. If using those candles, then light after nightfall every night (aside from Friday—see below).

If one did not kindle the Chanukah lights early in the evening, they can be kindled later, as long as there are people in the streets (or others awake in the house).

IMPORTANT: It is forbidden to light a fire on Shabbat, which extends from sunset on Friday evening until nightfall on Saturday night. Therefore, on Friday evening, November 29, the Chanukah lights should be kindled early, before the Shabbat lights, which are lit 18 minutes before sundown. Additional oil or larger candles should be used for the Chanukah lights, to make sure they will last a full half hour after nightfall—the standard 30-minute Chanukah candles cannot be used on Friday.

From the time the Shabbat candles are lit (Friday evening) until Shabbat ends (after nightfall Saturday night) and until the havdalah prayer (separating Shabbat from the weekday) is recited, the Chanukah menorah should not be relit, moved or prepared.

Chanukah lights for Saturday night are kindled only after Shabbat ends after nightfall.

On the first night of Chanukah (Wednesday, November 27) , recite all three blessings. On all subsequent nights, recite blessings number 1 and 2.

1. Blessed are You, L‑rd our G‑d, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Chanukah light.

1. Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai Eh-lo-hei-noo Meh-lech Ha-olam A-sher Ki-deh-sha-noo Beh-mitz-vo-tav Veh-tzi-va-noo Leh-had-lik Ner Cha-noo-kah.

2. Blessed are You, L‑rd our G‑d, King of the universe, who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time.

2. Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai Eh-lo-hei-nu Meh-lech Ha-olam Sheh-a-sa Nee-sim La-avo-tei-noo Ba-ya-mim Ha-hem Bee-z’man Ha-zeh.

3. Blessed are You, L‑rd our G‑d, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.

3. Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai Eh-lo-hei-noo Me-lech Ha-olam Sheh-heh-cheh-ya-noo Veh-kee-yeh-ma-noo Veh-hee-gee-a-noo Liz-man Ha-zeh.

After kindling the lights, the Haneirot Halalu prayer is recited.

One is not to benefit from the light of the candles, only from the shamash and other sources of light. For the first half hour when the candles are burning, it is customary to sit by the candles and tell stories relating to the holiday.

Work should not be done in the proximity of the burning candles. Women have a custom to refrain from household work during the half hour that the lights are burning, to honor the brave Jewish women who played a significant role in the Chanukah story.

During the eight days of Chanukah, we add the Al HaNissim liturgy to the amidah (daily silent prayer) and the Grace After Meals.

The complete Hallel prayer (see your prayerbook) is also said in the morning service.

A portion of the Torah is read daily in the synagogue during morning prayers.

It is customary to increase one’s daily giving to charity. On Fridays we give double the amount, to account for Shabbat.

It is traditional to give all children Chanukah gelt (money).

Of course, this beautiful custom adds to the children’s happiness and festive spirit. In addition, it gives adults an opportunity to give the children positive reinforcement for exemplary behavior, such as diligence in their studies and acts of charity.

Chanukah gelt is given to children after lighting the menorah. The children should be encouraged to give charity from a portion of their money.

Because of the great significance of oil in the story of the Chanukah miracle, it is traditional to serve foods cooked in oil. Among the most popular Chanukah dishes are potato latkes (pancakes) and sufganiot (doughnuts).

It is also customary to eat cheesy foods on Chanukah, in commemoration of the bravery of Yehudit. Click here to find out more.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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    • The Candle That Burned for 70 Years (By Rabbi Shlomo Wilhelm)

As the Chabad emissary in Zhitomir, Ukraine, I visit Paris occasionally to fundraise and purchase supplies. In between appointments, I often step into the synagogue for a few precious moments of Torah study.

During one of these brief respites, the local shliach came in with two strangers—an older man, and a long-haired American student in his early twenties. The rabbi asked the older man if he would like to put on tefillin. At first he refused, but with a little persuasion he was soon rolling up his sleeve and allowing me to wrap the tefillin around his arm and head.

Meanwhile, the young student began walking around the shul. In one corner he stopped, took out With a little persuasion he was soon rolling up his sleevehis cell phone, and took a few pictures. Could he possibly know that seventy years ago, in that corner, the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, gave a weekly Torah class? Yes indeed, on those very benches Jews had gathered to learn a tractate of Talmud from the future Rebbe.

In the 1930s, when he was living in Paris and studying at the Sorbonne, the Rebbe attended the synagogue at 17 Rue des Rosiers, where he also offered a Torah class to the small congregation.

One of those classes was on the topic of Mai Chanukah, “What Is Chanukah,” the portion of the Talmud that discusses the significance of Chanukah. The Rebbe spoke about the well-known dispute between the Greek philosophers and the sages of Israel, and the fundamental difference between Hellenistic philosophy and the wisdom of Torah.

In Jewish thought, wisdom—particularly Torah wisdom—is compared to pristine water. By contrast, he explained, the Greeks mixed the pure, spiritual water of intellect with the dust of materialism, resulting in mud, a quicksand that drags one down in a gradual but endless descent into the depths. When intellect becomes the tool of materialism rather than spirituality, it feeds egoism and selfishness.

The Rebbe noted that in Psalms Yavan, the Hebrew name for Greece, is associated with mud—(Tit ha)Yavan טיט היון. He pointed out that the very letters of Yavan יון provide a visual image of graded descent, beginning with the elevated yud י that represents wisdom, moving down to the vav ו that reaches the baseline, before the final nun ן that descends below the baseline, i.e., to the depths. Greek philosophy embodied this descent from the loftiest to the lowest moral plane.

The Greeks had wisdom; indeed, many great sages of Israel (including the Rebbe) were well-versed in secular knowledge. Their error was in its application. They used it to exalt the body and its desires above the soul, and that this is what led to their moral decline. Even the study of Torah can become like the wisdom of Greece, the Rebbe said, if one does not approach it with purity of spirit and humility. One can exploit the Torah, too, to justify his crassness.

The Greeks defiled not only the pure oil for the Temple menorah, but also the pure spiritual oil in the Jewish heart. And the miracle of Chanukah reestablished that purity—our absolute devotion to G‑d and His Torah.

This was what the Rebbe taught in Paris in 1935.

Back in the synagogue, I watched the American boy take pictures. Something was strange about the scene. Who was he, and what connection could he possibly have with this place?

“Have you put on tefillin today?” I asked him. The reply was astonishing. “Yes, I did,” he said. “I put on tefillin every day. It is the only mitzvah I still keep. Just yesterday I considered “It is the only mitzvah I still keep” dropping it, but I decided to continue for the time being.”

It dawned on me that this young man might be a lost sheep who had once been part of the Chabad-Lubavitch community. The combination of tefillin observance and photographing an obscure setting in which the Rebbe had taught couldn’t be a coincidence.

Indeed, this was the case. He had been a student in a Lubavitcher yeshivah, where he thrived until his late teens. “But then I decided I wanted a university education. I just wanted to broaden my horizons,” he told me. “And then one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I’m observing nothing except tefillin.”

I suggested that we sit down and learn something together. Perhaps something the Rebbe taught while he was in this very place. He agreed, and we sat down to study the discourse on Mai Chanukah.

We opened the Reshimos, the posthumously published collection of the Rebbe’s private notes where the talk is recorded. The conversation proceeded in fluent Yiddish, as the young man cut into the difficult discourse with the ease of the young chassidic scholar he had once been.

“And so the whole idea of Greece, of Yavan, is represented by the very Hebrew letters for Yavan,” he explained. “Even Torah learning, when mixed with material motives, becomes a downward spiral, descending from the lofty yudto the depths represented by the dangling final nun. Step by step it makes us arrogant and conceited, turning our pursuit of knowledge into a lethal poison, a viscous quicksand from which we cannot extricate ourselves.”

Suddenly the young man stopped and closed the book. He seemed overcome with emotion.

“Rebbe!” he shouted, and remained silent for several long minutes. Finally he looked me in the eye and said, “Do you understand what is going on Do you understand what is going on here?here? The Rebbe is talking about me.

“At first there was just the yud of Yavan, the wisdom of philosophy. I just wanted to expand my knowledge. But in college, I found most of the students were more interested in having a good time than in acquiring knowledge. It was hard to separate the ideas I was studying from the moral atmosphere around me. I descended one nearly imperceptible step at a time, until I reached the depths, the final nun. The entire process was so gradual, I didn’t realize it was happening.

“The Rebbe sat here seventy years ago, and gave this lesson for me! The Rebbe is telling me, ‘I see you. I am following you. I understand the entire process you are undergoing.’”

He opened the book again and scanned the entire discourse with his cellphone, page by page.

“I can’t continue here,” he told me. “This is too big for me. I will continue later, by myself.”

His parting words to me as he left: “The Rebbe has turned over my soul.”

Rabbi Shlomo Wilhelm is the Chabad emissary to Zhitomir, Ukraine.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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    • Spirituality vs. Religion (By Samantha Barnett)

The college professor wrote two words on the blackboard: “spirituality” and “religion.” Our job was to articulate the difference between the two. It was a conversation that would change my life.

Many people claim to be “spiritual” without attaching that spirituality to any specific religion. For them, spirituality is a state of mind. They are searching for G‑d wherever they can find Him.

There is something beautiful in this search, and yet, without a root in ritual and without a foundation in the divine, that spark can easily be corrupted and used for man’s self-interest instead of for what is good and holy in the world.

Even if one is aware of a higher power, spirituality without ritual is like channeling divine light into the world without any vessel to contain it. The Religion that is motion without emotion is missing something light is in danger of burning out.

On the opposite end of the spectrum are those who label themselves “religious.” They are the “ritual” people. It is through the traditions of their religion that they feel connected and rooted in their communities and, ideally, to their Creator.

But just because people claim to be “religious,” it doesn’t necessarily mean that they are spiritual, especially when they make their religion about the rules and not about the spirit behind those rules.

Religion that is motion without emotion is missing something. That something is the spirit of the law, the whole reason why we are doing things in the first place. The big picture.

So, what was our conclusion in class? Spirituality and religion are not mutually exclusive. Both are quests to find and connect with G‑d.

That answer profoundly changed me. We need both, I concluded, to live a good and meaningful life. And when I explored Jewish thought, I found a beautiful symbiosis of spirit and ritual.

Judaism is not about ritual for the sake of ritual. Judaism is about uplifting the physical world to a spiritual level. We take the mundane pleasures of life and elevate them to a spiritual dimension through ritual. And while performing these physical mitzvahs, we connect to G‑d.

On Chanukah, we dedicate our homes to the true definition of spirituality. In Judaism, a house is a mini-Temple. This most mundane of places where we sleep, eat, and entertain is a place of spirituality. That is where the menorah, the symbol of the holiday, is displayed. The ideal place to put our menorah is outside our front door across from the mezuzah.

The words mezuzah and menorah are similarly spelled, except for three letters. The letters that are different in the word menorah spell the Hebrew word ner, which means “candle.” The letters that are different in the word mezuzah spell the word zuz, which means “to move.”

The menorah and the mezuzah represent two ways to influence the world. The menorah symbolizes light. People who illuminate lead by example. Their spirit emanates from them. They make you want to be a better person because they live an elevated life.

The mezuzah represents another way to influence the world. The mezuzah represents movement. We are supposed to put a mezuzah on every doorway in our house. Every room has a different energy because of what it is used for, so as you walk through each room in the house, you enter one energy and exit another.

The mezuzah symbolizes ritual and action, going out and actually changing the world.

The purpose of Chanukah is to publicize the miracle of true spirituality. The one that is eternal. The one that merges ritual and spirit.

The The purpose of Chanukah is to publicize the miracle of true spiritualitystory of Chanukah illustrates this point. The Greeks didn’t mind the “spirituality” of the Jews. What they did mind were the rituals that would connect that spirituality to G‑d. They were okay with the Jews having an intellectual and aesthetic connection to G‑d, but not an emotional one.

The Greeks didn’t want to destroy the Jews’ holy Temple. In fact, they loved it for its beautiful architecture. Yet they didn’t mind making the Temple impure so that the Jews couldn’t practice their rituals there anymore.

The Greeks banned Shabbat, circumcision and Rosh Chodesh. Shabbat sanctifies time and gives it a spiritual dimension. On Shabbat, we stop our creative work in the world in order to return to the essence of who we really are, a soul. On Shabbat, we remember our Source.

Circumcision perfects the male body through ritual. It also represents man controlling his impulses. The Greeks didn’t like the idea of imperfection or restraint of the body.

Rosh Chodesh is the celebration of a new Hebrew month; without it, Jews would not know when to celebrate the holidays. Without holidays, the Jews could not perform the rituals linked to the spiritual energy of each month. Additionally, the Jewish calendar is based on the moon instead of the sun. The moon is a reflection of the sun’s light, which represents how our lives should be a reflection of G‑d’s light.

The Greeks defined spirituality the wrong way. They defined it by aesthetics, hedonism and intellectualism. Their spirituality was linked to physical beauty and pleasure, but they didn’t connect it to a deeper and higher purpose. They weren’t interested in rituals, because that would connect the “spirituality” they saw in the physical world to G‑d.

True spirituality requires utilizing the physical world to connect to the divine. Our knowledge of Torah is meant not just to be learned as a subject, but also to be integrated into our lives through ritual in order to change us—and the world—for the better.

We need both spirit and ritual, because they are really one.

Samantha Barnett is a writer. She lives in Los Angeles, California.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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    • Two Kinds of Light: The Beauty of Shabbat Chanukah (By David Adler)

On Shabbat Chanukah, the Shabbat that occurs during Chanukah, two sets of lights are kindled in the Jewish home: the menorah is lit, followed by the Shabbat candles. The requirements for these two mitzvahs provide a study in contrasts:

The menorah is kindled by the men and boys of the house (though if a man is not present it may be kindled by a woman).

Shabbat candles are lit by women and girls (though, again, if a woman is not present, a man may light them).

In fulfillment of the commandment to publicize the miracle of Chanukah, the menorah is placed in a doorway or window so that it is visible from the outside. Many communities stage public menorah lightings in parks, city squares and shopping malls.

Shabbat candles are lit in the inner sanctum of the home, often on the table where the meal will be served.

The blessing over the menorah is sung out loud, followed by boisterous songs and celebration.

The blessing over Shabbat candles is usually said in a quiet voice, and is followed by several moments of silent prayer, as the woman of the house requests blessings for her family.

Behind these requirements lies a deep kabbalistic significance that reflects the spiritual energies of the participants. Feminine spiritual energy is focused internally, while masculine energy tends to be external.

Traditionally, the man was the hunter-gatherer, the farmer, the breadwinner, leaving home in order to provide for his family. The woman was the homemaker, transforming the raw materials the man provided into food and clothing. These roles are no longer as rigid as they once were, andThe woman enhances the internal peace and spirituality of the home indeed, every man and woman possesses a mixture of masculine and feminine energies. Changing social norms have allowed women to express themselves more fully in both the public and private sphere.

Perhaps the best illustration is the creation of a new life. The woman’s egg is internal, the man’s seed external. The growth of the fetus is a wondrous process that the woman contains completely within herself.

In the Jewish home, the woman enhances the internal peace and spirituality of the home by lighting the Shabbat candles. By lighting the Chanukah menorah, the man publicizes the spirituality of Chanukah as a message to be spread externally. These two mitzvahs harness the spiritual energies of men and women in a divinely determined way to best effect.

Two sets of candles, two very different mitzvahs. Yet the end result is the same: a match is held to a wick, a flame is kindled, and darkness recedes. The Torah recognizes that men and women bring different energies to the task of perfecting the world. Working together, harnessing the unique qualities G‑d gave them, they can create enough light to banish darkness forever.

Dr. David Adler has been one of leading physicians in managing Australia’s health care system. About 4 years ago he re-evaluated life’s priorities and began regular Torah study with Chabad in Sydney.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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CHANUKAH AND THANKSGIVING

A Brief History

In 2013, Chanukah and Thanksgiving will overlap for the first time in almost 100 years. Here’s how it works. by Tzvi Freeman

Question:

Is it true that . . .

Thanksgiving falls on Chanukah this year,

it’s never happened before, and

it will never happen again?

Answer:

Yes, no, and maybe.

Yes, this Chanukah, if you’re celebrating Thanksgiving, you’ll want to light the second candle of the menorah at your turkey dinner.

No, it’s not true that this has never happened before. Let’s work this through step by step:

Chanukah was declared a Jewish national holiday 2178 years ago. Thanksgiving was declared a national American holiday on the last Thursday of every November by Abraham Lincoln in 1863. Before then, Thanksgiving was celebrated on different dates in different states, so we won’t count those. But, using the Chabad.org Date Converter, you will see that Thanksgiving coincided with the first day of Chanukah on November 29, 1888. It also coincided with the fourth day of Chanukah on November 30, 1899.

On November 28, 1918, Thanksgiving was on Chanukah eve. But since it’s still Thanksgiving until midnight, and Jewish days begin at night, that would still mean that Jewish Americans would have eaten their turkeys that Thanksgiving to the light of their first Chanukah candle.

It gets more complicated. Originally, Thanksgiving was always on the last Thursday of November. In 1939, FDR decided it would be good for the economy to push Thanksgiving back a little, so he declared the fourth Thursday of that November to be Thanksgiving—even though there were five Thursdays to November that year. In 1942, that became federal law. But not all states went along with it. As late as 1956, Texas was still celebrating Thanksgiving a week later than the rest of the country.

Which means that if you were a Texan Jewish family, you would be eating that turkey to the light of your first Chanukah light in 1945 and 1956.

Will it ever happen again? Interesting question. If we project forward, assuming that:

Thanksgiving will be celebrated on the same schedule,

The people celebrating Thanksgiving will continue following the Gregorian calendar without modification,

The Jewish calendar will continue on its current 19-year cycle,

. . . then the next time the two will coincide would be when Thanksgiving falls on Chanukah eve in the year 2070. That would repeat itself in 2165.

Let’s chart this out:

THANKSGIVING DATES

CHANUKAH DATES

11/29/1888

Kislev 25, 5649—2 candles that night

11/30/1899

Kislev 29, 5660—5 candles

11/28/1918

Kislev 24, 5679—1 candle

11/29/1945 (Texas only)

Kislev 24, 5706—1 candle

11/29/1956 (Texas only)

Kislev 24, 5717—1 candle

11/28/2013 (you are here now)

Kislev 25, 5774—2 candles

11/27/2070 (theoretically)

Kislev 24, 5831—1 candle

11/28/2165 (theoretically)

Kislev 24, 5926—1 candle

You’ll notice that these dates are getting further and further apart. That’s not just FDR’s fault. Both the Gregorian calendar and the Jewish calendar are slowly drifting in relation to the actual solar year—but at different rates. After 2165, Chanukah would have completely drifted out of November—unless one of these calendars (or Thanksgiving) is changed.

The most important codification of the laws of the Jewish calendar was written by Maimonides in the 12th century. The standard medieval commentary to that text points out that the calendar is set up in such a way that eventually it will self-obsolesce. By the year 6000 (that’s 2240 on the Gregorian calendar), the holidays—most importantly, Passover—will start falling in the wrong seasons.

His conclusion: Before that time, Moshiach is expected to arrive and gather the Jews from the diaspora. At that point we will return to establishing the calendar on a month-by-month basis, as was done originally, before the current diaspora.1

Yes, making appointments is going to be a bit of a challenge, but there will certainly be solutions. At any rate, the benefits far exceed the inconvenience.

One thing is certain, however, as Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman wrote in the 13th century:2 We will forever continue to light the Chanukah lamps for eight nights, every Chanukah. Some lights can never be extinguished.

For more on the connection between Thanksgiving and Chanukah, read Thanksgiving Meets Chanukah.

Video: In 1984, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, the Rebbe, of righteous memory, highlighted some of the correlations between Chanukah and Thanksgiving in a public address:

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a senior editor at Chabad.org, also heads our Ask The Rabbi team. He is the author of Bringing Heaven Down to Earth. To subscribe to regular updates of Rabbi Freeman's writing, visit Freeman Files subscription.

FOOTNOTES

1.  Peirush to Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Kiddush ha-Chodesh 9:11. See also Ittim le-Binah, Maamar 12; Torah Sheleimah vol. 13, Sod ha-Ibbur, ch. 2.

2.  In his commentary to Numbers 8:2.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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More in Chanukah and Thanksgiving:

    • They Have a Lot in Common (By Tzvi Freeman)

This year, American Thanksgiving falls on the first day of Chanukah. It happened only once before, in 1888. And it’s impossible to determine when or if this will ever happen again. (If you want to know why, read our article Chanukah and Thanksgiving: A Brief History.)

There’s got to be some connection between Thanksgiving and Chanukah, something that’s speaking to us especially this year. Why? Because the Baal Shem Tov taught us that everything a person sees or hears is meant to be a lesson in life. So, when something as striking as a convergence of celebrations comes up, we need to figure out what it’s telling us.

The Wrong Match?

Actually, if you’re looking for a Jewish thanksgiving, it’s Sukkot. Sukkot is the original biblical Thanksgiving. The Torah calls it The Festival of Ingathering—in other words, when all the crops, fruits included, have been gathered in. At that point we gather for seven days to show our thankfulness. After we left Egypt, Sukkot also became a festival to celebrate the divine protection we enjoyed for forty years in the wilderness. And that protection continues to this day.

Sukkot never coincides with Thanksgiving. That’s a good thing. On Sukkot, we sit outdoors in a makeshift hut—not necessarily the way you would want to end November if you lived in, say, Portland, Maine.

When you think about it, Thanksgiving has more to do with Chanukah than any other holiday.

But here we have Chanukah lining up with Thanksgiving. And, when you think about it, Thanksgiving has more to do with Chanukah than any other holiday.

Beyond Corn & Watermelons

Thanksgiving is not your typical harvest festival. It’s about more than bumper crops and giant watermelons. Thanksgiving comes packed with a deep narrative—what Peter Gomes calls the “American sense of mythic past.”1 It’s a narrative about an arduous journey to escape religious persecution for freedom in a new land, the establishment of a democratic charter, and the sense of divine providence that carried those refugees through their plight.

Thanksgiving & Chanukah are both deep narratives in a nation’s collective consciousness.

That’s Chanukah, as well: a narrative deeply embedded in the collective Jewish psyche of how we fought back against religious oppression in our own land, earned our freedom, and thanked G‑d for the miracles.

In America, most holidays have lost their original significance for most people. With Thanksgiving, that may not yet be the case. Americans still act as though they identify with the plight of those Pilgrims. Most of us, after all, are descendants of those who fled to this side of the planet seeking a new future unbridled by the oppressive restrictions of the old world. And when we think of America, we still think of a land of promise and liberty.

The Thanksgiving Mantra

So, Chanukah and Thanksgiving are deeply connected, and that connection can be summed up in just four words: “Thank G‑d, we’re free.”

Why are those words important? Thanksgiving is a national holiday, not a religious holiday. But please tell me, whom are Americans thanking? The turkey?

So, what’s so important about thanking G‑d?

Because it’s at that point that you become truly free of religious oppression.

That may sound strange. Hold on.

Liberty from the Bogeyman

Let’s say you can’t get yourself to say those words, not because you do not feel free, but because you claim to not believe in G‑d—at least, not one that can be thanked? Whom are Americans thanking? The turkey? But what if you think that belief in G‑d is irrational? What if you think that such belief is irrational, primitive and unscientific?

Then you need to ask yourself if you are still carrying the Pilgrims’ bogeyman of the Church of England, if Diderot is still screaming in your ear that “men will never be free until the last king is strangled with the entrails of the last priest,” and if the collusion of church and state is looming in your mind as though King Louis XIV and Czar Nicholas I came along on the Mayflower.

It’s hard to find a real atheist. Deep in the human consciousness lies a belief in a G‑d who cares. Deep—yet close enough that it will emerge in a crunch. In a typical conversation with an atheist, scratch the surface and you’ll find that a caring G‑d is not the real issue. The fear of an oppressive church and “organized religion” hijacking democracy is the real bogeyman.

But there is no bogeyman. We’ve left that behind. We are free. So, it’s okay to thank G‑d. And it’s extremely liberating.

It’s liberating, because that’s the foundation upon which liberty is built.

The Stuff the World (and America) Is Made Of

Let’s face it: America wouldn’t have been possible if no one thought that G‑d cares. If there weren’t people who believed that the state of humanity is of cosmic significance, that there was nothing that touched more closely the very core of existence than the way one human being treats another, then all that we call social progress could never have happened.

Thanking G‑d means you feel an affinity with whatever it is you believe is behind this whole existence. You feel there’s some sort of interaction going on here. You feel that this super-being, this transcendental oneness—as strange as it may sound—actually cares.

Which is a powerful statement. It says that caring doesn’t just make the world go ’round—caring is the reason it’s here to begin with. More than that, caring is the stuff this world is made of: as the psalm goes, “the world is built of kindness.”

Caring is the stuff this world is made of.

I’ve written before that if the leaders of the environmental movement would embrace those sacred root-values of American culture, presenting us as the appointed stewards over a G‑d-given planet, they would finally find their way into the hearts of the people. The same applies to those struggling to bring peace in distant places, those fighting crime and injustice in not-so-distant places, and those bringing compassion and values to corporate America. Belief makes change. Belief in a G‑d who cares makes lasting change for lasting good.

Free At Last

Hi, America, I’m Thanksgiving.

And I’m also Chanukah.

Hold my hand.

Take a deep breath.

Exhale.

Now say, “Thank G‑d, we’re free.”

Doesn’t that feel good?

Sources

Inspired by a talk of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, on December 21, 1986.

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a senior editor at Chabad.org, also heads our Ask The Rabbi team. He is the author of Bringing Heaven Down to Earth. To subscribe to regular updates of Rabbi Freeman's writing, visit Freeman Files subscription.

FOOTNOTES

1.  In his foreword to Thanksgiving: The Biography of an American Holiday by James W. Baker.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved

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PARSHAH

The Visionary Soul

Where is that fine line between healthy self-compassion and debilitating self-pity? by Rochel Holzkenner

For four years we weren’t able to have children. In retrospect, that chapter of life seems less dramatic than it felt at the time, especially since I’m now blessed with three healthy kids. But those first four years were a challenge for me, and there were so many disappointments that came along with the ride. Every treatment and procedure brought high hopes and eager anticipation. When they failed, I felt a stab in my vulnerable heart.

After the first year, though, I really toughened up. I didn’t cry anymore. I went through the motions sensibly: the endless visits to the doctor’s office, the blood tests, the acupuncture treatments. Trying to start a family became my second job, and I pursued it Those first four years were a challenge for mewith vigor. But I didn’t hold my breath too hard when I started a new round of treatments, and I avoided self-pity like the plague.

One afternoon, as I was driving through Miami, my shield of strength suddenly shattered. With no warning, I started to weep till the tears drenched my cheeks. I was alone, so I let myself cry out loud like a child.

I’d been letting my mind wander, perhaps too far, and I’d started to imagine what it must be like for a mother to watch her daughter struggle. I was watching my “daughter” as a young girl. I watched her grow up and start a life of her own. I wanted her to have the sweetest life; she deserved it. Then I saw her desperately wanting a child; I saw her attempt multiple fertility treatments without success. It broke my heart to see my “daughter” in pain. And that’s when I broke down. I cried for the daughter who was me. Even if I was okay with it, my mother wasn’t. I suddenly felt undeserving of my fertility struggle.

I don’t regret that cry, and I don’t judge myself for my self-pity. It felt great to cry again, a powerfully cathartic cry.

Where is that fine line between healthy self-compassion and debilitating self-pity? The tenderness of pain is so frightening, like a dark abyss, that it’s often safer to check out of the world of feelings and stay practical. But what’s at the back end of an emotional shutdown?

In one of the most moving interactions in the Torah, Joseph met his younger brother, Benjamin, after 22 years of separation. Benjamin, however, had no idea that he was meeting his long-lost brother; he thought that he was talking to the minister of finance in Egypt. Joseph became so emotional from their conversation that, for the first time in his dealings with his brothers, he “hurried to go out because his compassion was aroused to his brother, and he wanted to weep. He went to his room and wept there.”1

Joseph had heard that his brothers had come down to Egypt to purchase food, and he chose to personally administer their transaction. One can imagine the overwhelming emotional reaction that this must have generated. After 22 years he saw his brothers again, ten of them, standing humbly before him. They don’t recognize Joseph, nor would they ever suspect that he was a powerful politician. And Joseph gave them no reason to suspect that he had any tender affinity toward them. On the contrary, for several weeks he played hardball with his brothers. He pretended to suspect them of being spies; he held his brother Simeon as collateral until they brought Benjamin to Egypt. He put on a perfect poker face to make them uneasy in his presence. Joseph knew that if he played his cards right, the brothers would Joseph gave them no reason to suspect that he had any tender affinity toward themfully regret their choice to sell him 22 years earlier, and they would finally begin to heal from their mistake. Joseph chose a brilliant strategy and carried it out like an award-winning actor.

But then Joseph broke down. He couldn’t even wait until he was alone to cry. He had to hurry out and find a private space, so that he could let himself weep fully. What changed? What triggered this extreme response?

When the brothers brought Benjamin to Egypt, Joseph invited them all to dine with him. Over dinner, he inquired about their (his) father’s wellbeing. Afterward, he focused his attention on Benjamin. Joseph asked, “Do you have a brother from the same mother?”

Benjamin carefully responded, “I had a brother, but I don’t know where he is.”

Joseph continued, “Do you have any children?”

“I have ten sons,” he answered.

Joseph probed, “What are their names?”

Benjamin listed the names of his ten sons. Joseph was curious. “What is the idea behind these names?” he asked.

“They all relate to my brother and the troubles that have befallen him: Bela, because he was swallowed up (nivla) amongst alien nations; Becher, because he was my mother’s firstborn (bechor); Ashbel, because G‑d sent him into captivity (sheva’o E‑l); Geira, because he had to live in a foreign land (ger); Naaman, because he was extremely pleasant (na’im); Echi and Rosh, because he was my brother (ach) and my elder (rosh); Mupim, because he learned from the mouth (peh) of my father; Chupim, because he didn’t see my marriage (chuppah), and I did not see his; Ard, because he went down (yarad) amongst alien nations.”2

Joseph was taken aback that his brother had named all of his sons with names that commemorated him. Apparently, Benjamin was tormented by Joseph’s loss. Even after he began a family of his own, he couldn’t come to terms with the fact that his brother, whom he apparently admired, was suffering. He couldn’t surrender to the notion that they weren’t able to share a life together. All this time, he was bleeding for Joseph’s pain. The wound had not scabbed over and grown callous. Time had not healed Benjamin.

And this is why Joseph broke down. All of his learned self-discipline, the whole charade that he put on to orchestrate his family’s ultimate reunion, wasn’t enough to protect him from Benjamin’s revelation. Benjamin’s ceaseless compassion for Joseph caused a shift in Joseph. He was no longer the savvy viceroy of Egypt; he was a heartbroken man.

The first Chabad rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, writes that inside every man and woman there is a Joseph and Benjamin’s ceaseless compassion for Joseph caused a shift in Josephthere is a Benjamin.3 Joseph is the archetype of a Jewish survivor. “Listen, O Shepherd of Israel, You who leads Joseph like a flock,” writes King David.4 Joseph is a code name for the Jewish nation. He is the prototype of the loyal Jew in foreign surroundings who rejects secular values and remains faithful to his G‑d.5 The Joseph in us puts on a remarkable fight to live as Jew in a world of adversity, to survive and to thrive despite the rough spots we encounter.

Benjamin is the more vulnerable aspect of our being. Benjamin was orphaned as he took his first breath of life. His mother, Rachel, died while birthing him: “As her soul was departing . . . she named him Ben Oni (son of my affliction)—but his father named him Benjamin.”6 But she wasn’t lamenting over her own labor pains; she was prophetically envisioning the suffering that her sons and their tribes would endure. What anguished Rachel was the loss of her dream. She envisioned her children growing up together in the land of Canaan, but she knew that their lives would take another course. Benjamin was born with his mother’s pain.

Benjamin is the part of us that’s tortured by our unfulfilled expectations. The expectations come from a deep-rooted vision of what life should look like. We feel that we should have integrity and growth, our relationships should be loving and profound, our work should be dynamic and expressive. The visionary within us has immense depth, but is likely to be disappointed by the reality of life.

Our visionary expectations come directly from our soul. Before descending into a body, she eagerly awaited her turn to spend a lifetime doing G‑d’s will here on earth. To the soul, the opportunity to do a mitzvah, to transform something of the material world into a spiritual experience, is priceless. Throughout our life’s journey our soul still clings to her vision of purposeful living, and is quite disappointed by all the things that challenge this ideal lifestyle.

Our Joseph is used to being abused, betrayed and trapped. He makes the most of his tumultuous journey, and rides each wave with grace. But Joseph has a brother who is deeply connected to him. This brother, this soul-consciousness, is deeply pained by the injustice. A Jew deserves a more dignified life. And, perhaps more importantly, a Jew deserves to treat himself with greater dignity. Sometimes it is the self-abuse that most painfully shatters our internal visionary. While our Joseph is jaded and functional, our Benjamin is idealistic and vulnerable.

Our inner Joseph forgets to cry. Or perhaps it sees no function in crying. It’s an indulgent waste of time! But there is always a part inside of us that’s still hanging onto a dream and is pained every moment that the dream isn’t actualized. It’s the dreamer that sensitizes us to what life really should look like. And even if it’s impossible to live that dream right now, at least we haven’t succumbed to our challenges.

When Joseph listens to the story of his life from Benjamin’s perspective, he cries. That cry is a powerful cry. Healing will often begin only when we give ourselves permission to empathize with our vulnerability and our disappointment. In the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman describes the most effective way to reconnect with G‑d after we’ve done something to compromise our relationship with Him. One of the key ingredients Healing will often begin only when we give ourselves permission to empathize with our vulnerability and our disappointmentto authentic regret is compassion, compassion for our Life Source. Our mistakes may have felt okay at the time, and perhaps we still don’t feel that badly about them. We may view ourselves as the kind of people who are susceptible to sinning, not mature or spiritual enough to take the high road. But the meditation that the Rebbe describes involves the belief that there is another part of us, a part that was never okay with that choice. There’s a part of us that’s still sensitive and is tortured by our mistakes, even if they’ve happened countless times. It’s that internal innocence that’s wounded every time we abuse ourselves. Teshuvah, the commitment to change, happens when we try to experience the pain of the soul and feel deeply compassionate for her humiliation.7

Benjamin is our innocent visionary who wants a life of dignity. But life’s not always that way. And even if it’s all for the best, even if all of our challenges are in place for our growth, the Benjamin in our psyche is pained. It’s not self-pity, the kind that makes us feel like unlucky victims of circumstance. It’s self-compassion for the part of us that is aristocracy but needs to play foot soldier for the time being. Self-pity can be crippling. Self-compassion allows us to be emotionally available. If we can feel for our higher self, our soul, then she becomes a more conscious part of us.

Chassidic thought teaches about the seven emotional stratospheres within the psyche of every being. Love, the first emotion, is cold. Love is compared to water, a substance that maintains a cool temperature. Love inspires us to connect with someone or something outside of ourselves, but that connection can be a very calculated choice, and it doesn’t require intense emotion. Severity, the second emotion, is compared to fire, powerful and often volatile. Compassion is the third emotional sphere. It fuses the first two emotions, creating a love that is hot. This connection is not as calculated as it is compelling. For example, I love my sister, but I feel passionate compassion for my friend who has a sick child. Self-compassion propels us forward, giving us the drive to make life work. As Joseph, we may just be going through the motions. But when Joseph resonates with the voice of Benjamin, we become more vibrant.

Let’s not become complacent with our soul’s struggles in this material world. Allow, for a moment, some compassion for that innocent part of us that yearns for a higher reality. And then G‑d will reciprocate in kind, giving us the strength to work through our challenges with more passion and potency.8

When I gave myself permission to feel the pain in my journey, when I let go of the fear that I’d become self-pitying, I was much more authentic. I could share more honestly with friends. I had more tolerance for my shortcomings. And I was able to pray with more passion. I believe it was those prayers that shifted my destiny—and G‑d blessed me with children.

Rochel is a mother of two children and the co-director of Chabad of Las Olas, Fla., heading its educational department. She is also a freelance writer—and a frequent contributor to Chabad.org—and lectures on topics of Kabbalah and feminism, and their application to everyday life. Rochel holds an MS in Brain Research from Nova SE University.

FOOTNOTES

1.  Genesis 43:30.

2.  Talmud, Sotah 36b.

3.  Likkutei Torah, Behar 40d.

4.  Psalms 80:3.

5.  See commentaries of Rashi and R. Hirsch to Psalms loc. cit.

6.  Genesis 35:18.

7.  Iggeret Hateshuvah, ch. 7.

8.  Likkutei Sichot, vol. 15, p. 348.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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More in Parshah:

    • Emotional Starvation (By Lazer Gurkow)

The Dream of Panic

Pharaoh had a strange dream. Seven thin and unhealthy cows swallowed seven robust cows, but the thin cows showed no signs of weight gain. Joseph interpreted the dream, predicting that Egypt would experience seven years of plentiful crops, followed by seven years of drought. The ensuing famine would be so severe that the years of plenty would be entirely forgotten.1

The commentaries pose an interesting question. Why did the thin cows swallow the robust cows? If the purpose of the dream was to imply a severe famine that would erase the effects of the years of plenty, the healthy cows could have become—or even been replaced by—sickly and thin cows, and the message would have been the same. Why the swallowing?

The years of plenty would be entirely forgotten

Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno offers a deep psychological insight. This detail of the dream informed Pharaoh that the famine would sow panic and desperation even among the wealthy, for they knew that their limited supplies would eventually run out.

Our rabbis taught that you cannot compare one who has bread in his basket to one who does not. The two might enjoy identical meals, but the one who has nothing saved for tomorrow will panic with every bite, for each mouthful carries him closer to starvation. The one who has plenty stored away for the next day will eat with confidence. If we are filled with dread, every mouthful is a form of torture. If we are filled with confidence, every mouthful is bliss.

The time would come when the entire region would suffer from famine, and people would stream to Egypt to purchase food. But even the well-stocked Egyptians would not escape the wrath of famine, for with each bite they would worry that tomorrow they might join the ranks of the hungry.

Pharaoh’s dream informed him that he would gain no satisfaction from his rich meals. He would suffer emotional starvation, and come to hate mealtime with a passion.

The Scarcity Mentality

Imagine an encounter between an Egyptian family with plenty and a family from a starving country. The Egyptian family might moan about the desperation they feel with every bite. The visiting family wouldn’t be able to relate to this problem. “If we had that kind of food,” they would say, “we would have no problem. Yet you have all this food, and complain?”

Can you imagine a scenario in which you are surrounded by luxury, but feel desperate and deprived? It is the ultimate irony. You have everything, and enjoy nothing. In fact, you might be better off with poverty You might be better off with poverty than with a wealth that haunts and taunts you.

It is impossible to relate to such difficulty when you are surrounded by real problems. When your children are hungry and you have nothing to feed them, you wish for the kind of problems the Egyptian family experienced. Yet from the Egyptians’ standpoint, the problem was real. It couldn’t be dismissed merely because others had more serious problems.

Today we have irrigation, production and preservation systems that enhance crop survival and mitigate the effects of droughts. For the most part, people in the developed world are able to meet their basic needs and then some. But feelings of desperation and deprivation are still common. Only the believer can live in the moment. The believer knows that everything is in good hands, G‑d’s hands. As much as we strive to work hard and provide for our families, ultimately our sustenance comes from G‑d.

The Weak Bully

There is another lesson from this enigmatic dream. How often do you encounter aggressive personalities who love to dominate? These people feel compelled to make every decision and control every exchange. If someone stands up to them, they tear into him and figuratively eat him alive. Having swallowed each of their challengers, and even many of their supporters, such people appear to be invincible, but they often feel weak and beleaguered.

You see, very few people tear into others because they are strong. They often do these things because they lack self-esteem and suffer emotional starvation. They might perceive almost any exchange as a slight, and convince themselves that others are poised to attack them. They put up a brave front and are on the offensive precisely because they feel vulnerable. In their minds, others want to swallow them alive, and they have no choice but to swallow first.

They are like the skinny cows, swallowing their perceived attackers but showing no signs of gain. They “won” the battle, but gained no They have no choice but to swallow firstemotional satisfaction from it. It is the height of irony. They are the strongest in the group, but in their minds, the weakest.

When we understand that bullying behavior is often rooted in emotional starvation, we can respond with compassion and loving strength.

Pharaoh’s dream highlights a psychological phenomenon to which we are still subject today. Emotional starvation can manifest in many ways, but with faith in G‑d, we can perceive the abundance in our lives.

Rabbi Lazer Gurkow is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Tefilah in London, Ontario, and a frequent contributor to The Judaism Website—Chabad.org. He has lectured extensively on a variety of Jewish topics, and his articles have appeared in many print and online publications. For more on Rabbi Gurkow and his wrtings, visit InnerStream.ca.

FOOTNOTES

1.  Genesis 41:1–31.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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    • Mikeitz in a Nutshell

Joseph’s imprisonment finally ends when Pharaoh dreams of seven fat cows that are swallowed up by seven lean cows, and of seven fat ears of grain swallowed by seven lean ears. Joseph interprets the dreams to mean that seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of hunger, and advises Pharaoh to store grain during the plentiful years. Pharaoh appoints Joseph governor of Egypt. Joseph marries Asenath, daughter of Potiphar, and they have two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim.

Famine spreads throughout the region, and food can be obtained only in Egypt. Ten of Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt to purchase grain; the youngest, Benjamin, stays home, for Jacob fears for his safety. Joseph recognizes his brothers, but they do not recognize him; he accuses them of being spies, insists that they bring Benjamin to prove that they are who they say they are, and imprisons Simeon as a hostage. Later, they discover that the money they paid for their provisions has been mysteriously returned to them.

Jacob agrees to send Benjamin only after Judah assumes personal and eternal responsibility for him. This time Joseph receives them kindly, releases Simeon, and invites them to an eventful dinner at his home. But then he plants his silver goblet, purportedly imbued with magic powers, in Benjamin’s sack. When the brothers set out for home the next morning, they are pursued, searched, and arrested when the goblet is discovered. Joseph offers to set them free and retain only Benjamin as his slave.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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THE REBBE

You Say You’re an Atheist . . .

Can one’s protestations against G‑d themselves be proof of belief in the existence of G‑d?

Correspondence by Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, The Lubavitcher Rebbe

5727

Dr. ——

New York, N.Y.

Blessing and Greeting:

I am in receipt of your two recent letters.

With reference to the other topic of our correspondence, namely my suggestion that one’s protestations against G‑d are in themselves proof of belief in the existence of G‑d—perhaps I did not make myself clear, in that it is not the negation which I consider to be proof, so much as the manner in which it is expressed. For when one declares his atheism once and for all, affirming that henceforth he has no place for G‑d in his thoughts, lexicon and daily life, then the matter is settled and closed. However, when one asserts that G‑d does not exist, yet at the same time on seeing an injustice in the world experiences pain and promptly demands, “Where is G‑d?” his harping on the same theme again and again is proof that deep in his heart he believes in G‑d—which is precisely why he feels so hurt and outraged. More importantly still, not only does he believe in a Supernatural Being in general, but also in One who has all the qualities that Jews attribute to Him, among them that He takes an interest in human affairs, although “If thou be righteous, what givest thou Him,” etc. Furthermore, He is a G‑d who intervenes in the daily life of each and every individual, even to the extent of listening to prayer. And prayer, as the Jew conceives of it, serves the function neither of tranquilizer nor any other means of emotional relief likely to meet with the approval of a psychiatrist. Every such deception is contrary to the spirit of all religions, particularly our Torah, which is called Torat Emet [the Torah of truth]. The daily Amidah includes the prayer for “wisdom, understanding and knowledge,” from the One “who bestows the gracious gift of knowledge,” just as it includes the prayer for healing from the One “who heals the sick of His people Israel”—in the plain sense of these words. Of course, I do not need much convincing that our prayers include profound meanings and esoteric allusions in the realm of Kabbalah, etc., but that should not obscure the fact that first and foremost our prayers are the direct expression of our dependence upon G‑d for the satisfaction of our elementary needs, “bread to eat and raiment to wear.”

I am, of course, aware of the objections raised to the above, some of them mentioned in your recent article, and in earlier pieces. Specifically it is asked, how is it possible for a Being who is incorporeal, formless, unchanging, etc., to be swayed by prayers for rain in a time of drought, or by other such requests? But the fact that the human intellect cannot comprehend something proves nothing more than that: the intellect is limited, and we were already told long ago that “He is incomprehensible to those who comprehend by the senses.” There is no need, therefore, to harp upon a problem with which Jews and Gentiles have been grappling from time immemorial, and which continues to challenge us today. I am certain that it is not because of this bothersome question that the unbeliever lost his faith, but to the contrary: having lost his faith, he seeks to appease his conscience by cooking up this problem.

In your letter you mention several times the case of Elisha ben Avuyah (“Acher”). However, the Sages of the Talmud have generally been more concerned with practical halachah, and it is clear that whatever references we do find to him were not intended to give us a complete picture of the man. But from the material available we gather that it was rather the case that he was bothered by the problem of duality (two reshuyot), not that he became and remained a convinced atheist.

With regard to my attitude toward Jewish boys attending college, I need only adduce your own reasoning in support of my position. You illustrate your point by saying that when a person contracts a contagious disease, there must be someone ready to take the risk of trying to heal him, rather than leaving him entirely to his fate. I will use this same analogy in my answer to you. Indeed, as is customary among Jews, I will answer your question with a question of my own: Have you ever met a mother who tried to persuade her son to choose for his career the field of infectious diseases, ruling out everything else, when he himself wished to choose some other means of parnassah, one that would not be quite so fraught with danger? To make my point even stronger, what would you think of a mother who, pressing her son to pursue that dangerous career, insists upon his getting started right away, by having him mix and come into daily contact with people who have already come down with various infectious diseases, on the assumption that he will somehow stumble upon the measures necessary to protect himself from infection, and in this way develop into a specialist in the field, one able to bring relief and cure to the unfortunate sufferer? I believe that in such a case no mother would fail to realize that whereas the danger is certain and immediate, the chances of her son becoming a specialist are, at best, years away. The analogy is obvious.

With blessing,

Letter of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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VIDEO

How to Craft a Unique Menorah

Watch our Jewish crafting guru, Abbey, demonstrate how to create a menorah masterpiece using baby food jars.

By Abbey Wolin

Watch Watch (6:29)

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    • The Scroll of Antiochus (By Moishe New)

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    • What Jews Believe: Torah (By Manis Friedman)

<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2076402&width=auto&height=auto"></script><div style="clear:both;">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</div>

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WOMEN

Throw a Beautiful Chanukah Party

I love to entertain, and Chanukah is the perfect time to invite friends and family over for a holiday party. It’s so much fun to decorate the house and table in festive Chanukah attire. by Rita Brownstein

I love to entertain, and Chanukah is the perfect time to invite friends and family over for a holiday party. It’s so much fun to decorate the house and table in festive Chanukah attire.

In keeping with the traditional Chanukah colors, I stuck to a palette of blues and golds.

For a centerpiece I used a contemporary gold menorah. This is just for decorative purposes, since the menorah is usually lit by a door or window.

The white hydrangeas are sitting in a clear glass vase, with gold plastic dreidels acting as a vase filler.

Each place setting had a small Chanukah gift tied with gold floss and a chocolate gelt candy.

Even the kosher rock candy kept with the blue color theme!

The dinner table was set up in the living room right in front of our fireplace. That gave me even more places to continue the Chanukah theme.

The gold coins are plastic from the party store.

Using a hot glue gun, it was easy to glue them to some string a create this garland.

The top of the mantel was the perfect place to spell out the essence of the holiday with the word “miracles.”

It was easy to create: pick up some chip board letters (I found mine at Hobby Lobby). Glue them onto wood skewers and spray-paint gold. When dry, insert each letter into votive cups filled with salt.

And, don’t forget to send your guests home with a gift bag . . .

These Star of David pretzels are covered in melted chocolate and topped with blue candy nonpareils!

Rita Brownstein is a designer and former art director. She is the author of Jewish Holiday Style and Jewish Weddings (published by Simon & Schuster), and currently blogs at designmegillah.com.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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More in Women:

    • Conquering Ourselves (By Rivka Caroline)

Aside from a legitimate reason to indulge in doughnuts and latkes, Chanukah is a celebration of the victory of light over darkness. It’s a lesson that we can continue to apply in our own lives, centuries after the Chanukah story.

It’s easier to conquer the world than to change one character trait

I can’t personally speak on behalf of the Maccabees themselves, but my guess is that if I were a Maccabee, it would be easier to fight the Greeks than it would be to work on my own personal middot, character traits. It just seems so natural—so human, even—to blame, criticize and judge others. It takes a tremendous amount of courage and effort to be really in touch with our own character defects and to humbly work on them.

What would victory look like?

So, taking a page from the Chanukah victory, what would a personal victory look like? Would it be a tranquil Friday afternoon, a peaceful visit with the in-laws, or finding that last tiny cruse of patience that will last all eight minutes of tooth-brushing with a cranky toddler? Identify where you need to change, and take those bold steps towards your goal.

An idea is something we do

We are a smart nation, full of smart ideas. You don’t want to be someone who lies down at night with a head brimming with fabulous ideas, and then be that person who lies down 24 hours later with the exact same thoughts, the pattern repeating ad infinitum. An idea is something we do. So, whatever flashes of insight you have into personal victories, start the ball rolling, speak to others, and work out what victory would look like.

Baby Steps

However bold your idea is, be prepared to break it down into small steps. People don’t lose 100 pounds overnight with good intentions and lifestyle changes. Change takes time; often it means giving yourself small, bite-size goals to reach, celebrating your goals, and then setting new goals. Just like the candles on Chanukah—step by step, light by light.

How can I have a better relationship with my future self?

Personal victory ultimately boils down to truly knowing yourself—the good, the bad, and even the ugly—and working strategically and honestly on becoming an even better version of yourself. It also involves developing a healthy relationship with your future self. That enables you to step out of the I-want-it-now stage and reflect on the ramifications of your choices 48 hours from now.

So, ignite your true potential and reveal that victorious side of yourself. Happy Chanukah!

Rivka is a mother of seven and a rabbi’s wife in Key Biscayne, Florida. Rivka realized she had the choice of losing her sanity or developing new tricks for time management. Her new blog, Frazzled No More: Focused Living with a Jewish Twist, walks busy readers through easy-to-follow steps that will give them more time to do what they love. You can read more of Rivka’s tips in her recently published book, From Frazzled to Focused, the book she wished she had on her nightstand when she was a new mom. For more tips, check out Rivka’s website, or e‑mail her for information on her upcoming speaking tours.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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QUESTION

Were the Maccabees Barbarians?

The Greeks brought culture, rationalism, geometry, drama, and appreciation of beauty. What point is there in celebrating the victory of those who resisted progress? by Tzvi Freeman

Question:

I don’t understand what we are supposed to be celebrating on Chanukah. The Greeks brought culture, rationalism, geometry, drama, appreciation of beauty, and most of all, a promise of universalism to the Mediterranean. The Jewish Maccabee resistance fought for old-time religion, senseless rituals such as circumcision, kosher taboos and sacrificial orders. Where others gladly abandoned their tribalism for the universalist spirit of the day, these retrogrades insisted on their divisive national identity and cultic rites.

In our modern times, when those Hellenist ideals have flowered and flourished in the form of science and globalism, what point is there in celebrating the victory of those who resisted progress into the future?

Answer:

Let’s start with a few facts. While it’s true that Alexander brought an era of true progress and prosperity to the ancient world, those values weren’t necessarily Greek values. Consider this speech which legend attributes to him—a speech no Greek could have imagined:

. . . I wish all of you, now that the wars are coming to an end, to live happily in peace. All mortals from now on shall live like one people, united and peacefully working forwards a common prosperity. You should regard the whole world as your country—a country where the best govern, with common laws and no racial distinctions. I do not separate people, as many narrow-minded others do, into Greeks and barbarians.

I’m not interested in the origin or race of citizens. I distinguish them only on the basis of their virtue. For me, each good foreigner is a Greek, and each bad Greek is a barbarian. If ever there appear differences among you, you must not resolve them by taking to arms; you should resolve them in peace. If need be, I shall act as your negotiator. You must not think of G‑d as an authoritarian ruler, but you should consider Him as common father, so that your conduct will resemble the uniform behavior of brothers who belong to the same family. For my part, I consider all—whether they be white or black—equal, and I would like you to be not only the subjects of my commonwealth, but also participants and partners. Within my powers, I shall endeavor to fulfill all my promises. You should regard the oath we have taken tonight as a symbol of love . . .1

To the Greeks, anyone who was not a member of a small group of tribes on the tip of the Aegean peninsula was a barbarian and of inferior stock, worthy only to be a slave. And that included Macedonians such as Alexander. Amongst Athenians, only one who owned land and was born of an Athenian father and mother could be considered a citizen. Even craftsmen and entrepreneurs were considered inferior sorts for men, unworthy of citizenship.

True, Alexander was trained by a Greek teacher, none other than Aristotle. Yet, in his biography of Alexander, Peter Green writes:

Aristotle and Alexander maintained a close relationship while student and teacher. Surprisingly, in later years, Aristotle’s and Alexander’s relationship deteriorated because of their opposing views on foreigners. Aristotle regarded foreigners as barbarians, while Alexander did not mind intermixing cultures.2

Alexander and the Hellenistic dream of universal peace was, then, not so much Greek, but much closer to an earlier orator of a much different era, the prophet Isaiah, who spoke of the ultimate Jewish emperor:

He shall judge between the nations and reprove many peoples, and they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift sword against nation, nor shall they learn war anymore.3

Such progressive universalists were the ancient Jews that they alone among the nations fostered a concept not only of universal peace, but of universal law. The code is often called the seven laws of Noah, although it entails far more than seven prohibitions. Adin Steinsaltz, in a widely discussed essay, describes the Noahide approach as “a formula for no more than peace,” providing “a basis for conversation among religions without the expectation of compromise between or reconciliation of claims.”4

All this makes it even more surprising that it was the Jews, far more than any other people, who rebelled against and undermined Alexander’s dream. And to celebrate that, yet?

The key, I believe, was best stated by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, in his book The Dignity of Difference. In the chapter “Exorcising Plato’s Ghost,” he describes the flip side of universalism: the obliteration of diversity, the loss of individuality, and the breeding of anomie in the place of community.

The two examples of progress that you cite, science and globalism, are poignant in this regard. The benefits of science and technology are precious to us all, but after the horrors of the 20th century, none of us can ignore its pernicious tendency to dehumanize and devalue human life. Ironically, as science progresses, it becomes better equipped to justify a purely utilitarian world, where humans are reduced to just another utility.

As for globalism—yes, it has defeated the worst of poverty in many parts of the world; brought greater resilience to our economy (so they say); and it’s nice to have avocados, kiwis and passion fruit at any season of the year—but look at what this has done to cultural diversity. In his time, Alexander offered Greek statues and temples for all; today we offer Superman, Mickey Mouse and McDonald’s. With both peace offerings, the same caveat applies: Acceptance of our culture implies abandonment of your own. Whether you are Japanese, Swahili, Inuit or Patagonian, this will be the new pseudo-culture of your children, and your own will be lost. You pay for peace with your own soul.

Oh so poignant are the words of Chief Dan George, of the Suquamish tribe in the Pacific Northwest:

I wanted to give something of my past to my grandson. So I took him into the woods, to a quiet spot . . .

I sang.

In my voice was the hope that clings to every heartbeat.

I sang.

In my words were the powers I inherited from my forefathers.

I sang.

In my cupped hands lay a spruce seed—the link to creation.

I sang.

In my eyes sparkled love.

I sang.

And the song floated on the sun’s rays from tree to tree.

When I had ended, it was if the whole world listened with us to hear the wolf’s reply. We waited a long time but none came.

Again I sang, humbly but as invitingly as I could, until my throat ached and my voice gave out. All of a sudden I realized why no wolves had heard my sacred song. There were none left! My heart filled with tears. I could no longer give my grandson faith in the past, our past.

At last I could whisper to him: “It is finished!”

“Can I go home now?” he asked, checking his watch to see if he would still be in time to catch his favorite program on TV.

I watched him disappear and wept in silence. All is finished!5

So, it is all finished. Who cares? What difference will it make? Humanity can survive without the Squamish legends and myths.

True, we can survive. But in what way will we be human?

As Rabbi Sacks asks, is a human an abstract ideal, a cookie-cutter form, a way in which we are all the same, live the same, celebrate the same, want the same and die the same? Or is a human defined by his unpredictability, his unique sense of “I,” a creature of destiny and purpose that no other being in the universe shares, whose pleasure and pain, sadness and joy describe one individual’s experience of life and one alone?

That is where things went haywire between the Hellenists and the Maccabees: Not over culture and art, geometry and literacy—those we embraced and even preserved, just as we welcomed the promise of peace between nations. It was the caveat that we were not willing to swallow. Our temple was to remain a Jewish temple, our homes Jewish homes, and our Torah a Jewish Torah. The Greeks, and those Jews who mimicked them, saw that as a stubborn impediment to progress. They saw the recalcitrants as shortsighted retrogrades. But the truth is that Jewish wisdom sees much further. The future is not a soliloquy, but a symphony. Peace is not uniformity, but a rich orchestra of many instruments.6

The Jewish people have made many valuable contributions to humankind, but this is one of their most vital: That it is okay to be different, to cherish your identity, even to die for it—because in truth that is all you have. It is all you have, because without it you are redundant: you may as well have never been born. On Chanukah we wish to share that with all other peoples, to show them that even as the majority culture swamps your life with its commercially hyped symbology, narratives and melodies, you can still bear proudly the traditions of your own proud heritage and know who you are. And so we celebrate that victory, the victory of the survival of the unique, the personal and the human within the vast melting pot of globalism.

Look at this miracle: An anomaly among the nations, as time progressed we became not less tribal, but more so. Like an ingot of iron in the crucible of history, our identity became yet more indestructible, yet more timeless and eternal. Timeless, because we belong to modernity as much as we belong to our ancient roots; eternal, because in essence we do not change. Why? Because we were born as a people not out of geography or circumstance, but out of a mission, and that sense of purpose has kept us always alive and unique. And so it should be with every human being: Let his or her unique mission—not that of the sitcom stars, not that dictated by social norms, not that demanded by conformity to modern, Western standards—but the role that distinguishes this one person from every other creature in the universe, let that vitalize all that he or she does.

Earlier I compared the universal law for all people, the laws of Noah, to Alexander’s promise of peace between nations. The distinction, however, is crucial: Alexander asked that “your conduct will resemble the uniform behavior of brothers who belong to the same family.” We would rather have each of those brothers and sisters express his or her uniqueness within that one large family. The minimalism of the laws of Noah serves as a guideline not for conformity, but for harmony of diverse parts.

Perhaps this is what guided Micah, a later prophet, to reiterate the words of Isaiah, yet with an embellished encore, one that speaks to the individual as well as the whole:

He shall judge between many peoples and reprove mighty nations far-off; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks. Nation shall not lift sword against nation, nor shall they learn war anymore.

They shall dwell each man under his vine and under his fig tree, and no one shall make them move, for the mouth of the L‑rd of Hosts has spoken.7

Recently I gave an impromptu talk on this topic, which someone recorded. You can listen to the recording at this link. Another article to read is Why Couldn’t the Jews and Greeks Just Get Along?

May the lights of Chanukah transform the darkness to light, so that we may truly progress into a future in which every human being is valued, and war is unthinkable.

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a senior editor at Chabad.org, also heads our Ask The Rabbi team. He is the author of Bringing Heaven Down to Earth. To subscribe to regular updates of Rabbi Freeman's writing, visit Freeman Files subscription.

FOOTNOTES

1.  The “oath” of Alexander the Great, a speech at Opis (Assyria) in 324 BCE, to some nine thousand dignitaries and nobles of all nations (Pseudo-Kallisthenes C; cited also by Eratosthenes).

Alexander’s idealism became quickly corrupted as he allowed others to convince him of his divinity. The ideal, nevertheless, remained a key element of the subsequent Hellenistic era.

2.  See Peter Green, Alexander of Macedon 356–323 B.C.: A Historical Biography (reprint edition, University of California Press, 1992), pp. 4 and 89; and summary at Ancient History. Concerning Greek racism, see Michael Bakaoukas, “Tribalism and Racism among the Ancient Greeks, A Weberian Perspective” in Anistoriton Journal 9 (March 2005), section E0501.

3.  Isaiah 2:4.

4.  Adin Steinsaltz, “Peace Without Conciliation,” Common Knowledge 11 (2005): 1, p. 47.

5.  http://thegoldweb.com/voices/chiefgeorge.htm.

6.  The Rebbe brings out this point in his discussion of Who Was Korach?

7.  Micah 4:3–4.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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COOKING

Carnival Squash Latkes with Homemade Apple Butter by Melinda Strauss

Latke Ingredients

1 carnival squash, peeled and grated. Makes around 4 cups grated squash. (Can substitute acorn, butternut or delicata squash)

1 medium yellow onion, grated

3 eggs, lightly beaten

2 tbsp. all-purpose flour

½ tsp. salt

½ tsp. curry powder

¼ tsp. pepper

6 tbsp. vegetable oil

Apple Butter Ingredients

6 medium sweet red apples, peeled, cored and diced

½ cup apple cider or apple juice

½ cup sugar

½ cup brown sugar

½ tbsp. lemon juice

1 tsp. lemon zest

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

½ tsp. ground cloves

½ tsp. ground nutmeg

½ tsp. vanilla extract

Pinch of salt

Apple Butter Directions

Place the diced apples and apple cider in a large pot and simmer on medium-low heat for 30 minutes.

Use a hand blender to purée the cooked apples, then add the rest of the ingredients, and stir to combine.

Place the apple mixture back on the stove and simmer over medium-low heat for 45 minutes, stirring occasionally. Once there is no juice left in the pot, the apple butter is ready!

Latkes Directions

Grate the squash and onion in a food processor, and place the mixture in a cheese cloth to squeeze out any excess liquid from the shreds. Then combine it with the lightly beaten eggs.

Add the flour, salt, pepper and curry to the squash, and stir to combine.

Place the vegetable oil in a large pan and heat on medium. Before cooking the latkes, test out a small spoonful to make sure the oil is hot enough. You want the oil to sizzle and bubble when the batter hits it. If the oil is smoking, it is way too hot!

Scoop 2 tablespoons of the squash batter at a time into the hot oil and cook 4 minutes on each sides.

Remove the latkes from the pan and place on cooling rack with paper towel underneath to catch the cooking oil. You can also place your latkes directly on paper towels to soak up the oil, but the bottoms of the latkes might get a little soggy.

Top with homemade apple butter, and devour!

For step-by-step photos showing how to make this delicious recipe, visit Melinda’s site, Kitchen Tested.

Melinda is a self-taught cook, food blogger, and mother of two children from Woodmere, New York. She loves to be adventurous and daring in the kitchen and hopes to inspire her readers by adding fresh twists to simple recipes and bravely using unusual ingredients in an accessible way. You can visit Melinda on her blog Kitchen Tested to see illustrated, step-by-step recipes and stories.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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More in Cooking:

    • Gluten Free Banana Maple Pecan Glazed Donuts (By Lisa Stander-Horel and Tim Horel)

Got gnarly old bananas that are ready for the compost heap? Got a little maple syrup and pecans in the pantry? Then you have the makings of a fabulous donut. Be sure to toast the raw pecans for best flavor.

Makes 12 donuts

Baking time: 16 to 18 minutes (plus glaze setting, 10 minutes)

Donut Ingredients

Nonstick spray, for greasing

1⅓ cups (170 grams) superfine brown rice flour

½ cup (75 grams) superfine white rice flour

½ cup (65 grams) tapioca starch/flour

½ cup (50 grams) GF almond flour

1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon kosher salt

¼ teaspoon mace or nutmeg

¼ teaspoon ground cardamom

¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper (or 2 turns of the grinder)

2 small very ripe bananas (150 to 160 grams), peeled and pureed

½ cup (115 grams) sour cream or full-fat plain Greek yogurt

3 tablespoons (60 grams) pure maple syrup

2 extra-large eggs (120 grams)

9 tablespoons or ½ cup (135 grams) unsalted butter, melted

½ cup plus 1 tablespoon (100 grams) granulated sugar

1 tablespoon brewed coffee (decaf is fine)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Glaze Ingredients

1 cup (110 grams) confectioners’ sugar, sifted

2 tablespoons (40 grams) pure maple syrup

1 to 2 tablespoons hot tap water

¼ teaspoon vanilla extract

½ cup (40 grams) pecans, toasted and roughly chopped

Donut Directions

Preheat the oven to 350° F (175° C). Grease two 6-count donut pans generously with nonstick spray.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, almond flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, salt, mace, cardamom, cinnamon and black pepper. In a large bowl, beat together the banana, sour cream, maple syrup, eggs, butter, granulated sugar, coffee and vanilla. Add the dry mixture and mix until fully incorporated.

Scoop the batter into the prepared pans, filling each donut cup a scant half-full. Rap the pan on the countertop to smooth the batter.

Bake the donuts for 16 to 18 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out with a few crumbs.

Carefully transfer the hot, fragile donuts to a rack and let cool completely before adding the glaze.

Glaze Directions

In a small bowl, combine the sifted confectioners’ sugar with the maple syrup and stir. Add the hot water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and continue stirring until the mixture is thoroughly mixed, no lumps remain, and it drizzles off the spoon slowly. Add the vanilla and stir again.

Spoon the glaze over the top side of the donuts until fully covered. Immediately sprinkle the chopped pecans on top of the glaze on each donut. Let the glaze set, about 10 minutes. Serve while still warm, for best flavor.

Recipe from Nosh on This: Gluten-Free Baking from a Jewish-American Kitchen, copyright © Lisa Stander-Horel and Tim Horel, 2013. Reprinted by permission of the publisher, The Experiment. Available wherever books are sold.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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NEWS

Radiating the Light of Chanukah in 80 Countries

With Chanukah beginning this Wednesday evening, Nov. 27, preparations are at a high pitch at Chabad-Lubavitch centers to reach an estimated 8 million people in more than 80 countries around the globe. by Menachem Posner

The City of Lights will become all that much brighter with 60 menorah-lightings in and about Paris, including one by the Eiffel Tower expected to be attended by 5,500 people. (file photo)

With Chanukah beginning this Wednesday evening, Nov. 27, preparations are at a high pitch at Chabad-Lubavitch centers to reach an estimated 8 million people in more than 80 countries through public menorah-lightings large and small, in addition to the distribution of 2.5 million holiday guides, 700,000 menorahs—oversize public ones and those affixed to car roofs for parades—and some 30 million Chanukah candles.

That should add a little light to the world.

In Montreal, Canada, Bruchy Winterfeld and a team of volunteers are busily packing nearly 500 artfully crafted Chanukah kits—each one containing a tin menorah, a box of 44 candles, a holiday guide and a personal Chanukah greeting.

Winterfeld, who co-directs Chabad of Mile End in downtown Montreal with her husband Yudi, adds that 45 volunteers will each give 10 menorahs to friends who would otherwise spend the Festival of Lights in the dark. The volunteers and recipients will then gather in Winterfeld’s home for a holiday celebration.

At the same time, her husband will be retrofitting a tricycle with a large menorah on the back and pedal the bike-friendly warren of lanes that make up their neighborhood, distributing menorahs all the while.

Chanukah, which runs through Thursday, Dec. 5, celebrates the victory of a small Judean band known as the Maccabees over the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who defiled the Holy Temple and sought to forcefully Hellenize the Jews. Upon entering the ransacked Temple, the Maccabees found just one small jug of pure oil—sufficient to last for only one day. Miraculously, it burned for eight days, enough time for more oil to be made.

In Montreal, Canada, a team of volunteers packs nearly 500 artfully crafted Chanukah kits.

In Montreal, Canada, a team of volunteers packs nearly 500 artfully crafted Chanukah kits.

The holiday is celebrated by kindling an increasing number of flames every night for the duration of the eight-day holiday. The lights are mounted on a stand known as a menorah or chanukiya. Traditional holiday foods include sufganiyot (donuts, typically jelly-filled ones) and latkes (potato pancakes) fried in oil, in commemoration of the oil that lasted for eight days.

Chanukah is unique in that the lights must kindled in a public spot, so that their presence brings awareness of G‑d’s intervention to the public conscience. Capitalizing on this concept in the 1970s, Chabad centers across the globe began holding Chanukah menorah-lightings in high-trafficked public places, often with specially constructed giant menorahs—towering stories high.

From Freedom and Democracy …

In communities from Milwaukee to Moscow, people will be strapping similar menorahs onto their vehicles for the duration of the eight-day holiday or to participate in Chabad “menorah parades.” While the parades were once common only in larger Jewish communities—especially in New York City—small communities such as Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (with a Jewish population of 800), and Almere, Holland, will be hosting their own parades for the first time in history.

In Merrick, N.Y., Alan Stewart Goldman will be driving his 1947 Ford pickup with a 6-foot menorah attached to the back, along with 60 or 70 other vehicles participating in the annual parade organized by the Chabad Center for Jewish Life in Merrick. Since the truck is not equipped with heat, he plans to wear a warm jacket for the duration of the parade, which will culminate with a 6 p.m. lighting of a giant menorah at the Merrick Gazebo—the main site for town holiday celebrations—timed to coincide with the arrival of the daily commuter trains from Manhattan.

Part of a "menorah to go" at the public menorah-distribution center in the city of Los Angeles.

Part of a "menorah to go" at the public menorah-distribution center in the city of Los Angeles.

There will be 15,000 oversized Chabad-sponsored menorahs in public squares, government houses and shopping malls all over the world.

In Israel alone, 4,500 menorahs will be stationed on pedestrian walkways, malls and public thoroughfares in the very same land where the miracle of the lights transpired more than two millennia ago. Special attention is given to soldiers serving in the Israel Defence Force, with menorah kits (and lots of jelly doughnuts) delivered to troops in even the most remote outposts.

Regardless of distance, however, the observances and the underlying sentiments remain consistent.

From the 4,000 people present at the lighting of the National Menorah on the White House lawn to the Jews of Saskatchewan, who will be lighting for the first time with the premier of the Canadian province, the sentiment and focus remain the same: The Maccabees’ fight for religious freedom resonates with all those who value personal freedom and democracy.

And wherever they may live in the world, more than 3 million unique visitors are expected to visit the Judaism website Chabad.org in the weeks leading up to the holiday, visiting Chanukah.org for its extensive Chanukah menu of guides, videos, songs, insights, recipes, holiday customs and lists of Chanukah events to join around the world.

... to 'Sharing the Lights' With Others

A new initiative launched this year to heighten the global outreach is a “Share the Lights” campaign, which encourages youth and young professionals to enjoy the lights of Chanukah with others.

Photos with the hashtag “#sharethelights” can be posted to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or sharethelights.org, where people can also register for a raffle.

Photos with the hashtag “#sharethelights” can be posted to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or sharethelights.org, where people can also register for a raffle.

Raffles will be drawn each night of Chanukah. Those between the ages of 13 and 30 can win tickets for two to anywhere in the world, and be eligible for other prizes such as an Xbox One, iPad Air and “Share the Lights” T-shirts for the first 1,000 participants. Photos with the hashtag “#sharethelights” can be posted to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or sharethelights.org, where people can register for the raffle.

“The participants can feel proud to be part of something so incredibly large when they see that thousands of participants and Chabad Houses spanning six continents and hundreds of countries are all participating in the same campaign,” explains Rabbi Mendy Kotlarsky, executive director of Merkos Suite 302 and coordinator of the “Share the Lights” campaign. “It highlights the strength of the Jewish presence around the world.”

In addition to Chanukah programs and public menorah-lightings geared to youth and young adults, mitzvah tanks will be dispatched this year to high schools and colleges. This will allow students who would not have the chance to light the menorah to be able to do so, as well as encourage them to get a friend to do the same and be entered into the raffles.

“Getting youth excited about the mitzvos and about Yiddishkeit is our response to disturbing assimilation statistics,” states Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky, executive vice chairman of Merkos L’Inyonei Chinuch, the educational arm of Chabad-Lubavitch. “The ‘Share the Lights’ campaign is but one of the projects we have undertaken to ensure that every Jew stays connected.”

… to Jewish Pride

In Amsterdam, Holland, Rabbi Menachem Evers—who organizes the annual menorah-lighting in Dam Square in front of the royal palace—says the public display of Jewish pride is especially meaningful for a community that is still living in the shadow of the Holocaust. Evers—whose family’s presence in Holland dates back at least 400 years—notes that for most Dutch Jews, until recently, it was simply unthinkable to openly identify themselves as Jewish.

Pieces for a giant menorah are ready to be shipped at the public menorah-distribution center in downtown Los Angeles.

Pieces for a giant menorah are ready to be shipped at the public menorah-distribution center in downtown Los Angeles.

“Last year,” he recalls, “an old lady came to me with tears in her eyes, saying that 60 years ago she never dreamt she would live to see Jews proudly celebrating in the streets.”

Evers says there will be 25 public menorah-lightings in more than a dozen Dutch cities—up from one lighting in a primarily Jewish neighborhood in Amsterdam in the early 1990s.

Some 500 kilometers to the south, the City of Lights will become all that much brighter with 60 menorah-lightings in and about Paris, including one by the Eiffel Tower expected to be attended by 5,500 people. That will be in addition to10 menorah mobiles—stocked with menorahs and Chanukah materials—that will comb the boulevards of the French capital, where, a whopping 25,000 donuts are expected to be distributed during the course of the holiday.

Ads will be taken out in the four national newspapers and on 500 billboards throughout Paris, bringing awareness of Chanukah and Chabad’s many holiday activities to residents.

In anticipation of the holiday—in synagogues, schools and Chabad centers all over the world—Chabad rabbis have been using fresh olives, old-fashioned screw presses and centrifuges to teach children how olive oil is made.

Rabbi Mendel Zarchi, director of Chabad Lubavitch of Puerto Rico, demonstrates the workings of an olive press in a pre-Chanukah class for adults and kids.

Rabbi Mendel Zarchi, director of Chabad Lubavitch of Puerto Rico, demonstrates the workings of an olive press in a pre-Chanukah class for adults and kids.

“It was very interactive,” says Mindy Miller, principal of the Anshe Sholom religious school in Olympia Fields, Ill., where Rabbi Schneur Scheiman conducted an olive-press demonstration for nearly 50 students. “They got to touch the olives and participate every step of the way, and then light the menorah with the oil they produced.”

While Scheiman—who directs Camp Gan Israel in Chicago—says he presses olives with 1,000 children every year, Rabbi Dovid Weibaum of Montreal, Canada, estimates that he walks 3,000 kids through the process every year.

Another part of the tradition includes “Chanukah Wonderlands” and other programs for children, teens, students, adults and seniors offered by Chabad. Many of them are listed on the world’s largest Chanukah event directory: chabad.org/HanukkahEvents.

Rabbi Moshe Teldon conducts a pre-Chanukah class in Wilmette, Ill.

Rabbi Moshe Teldon conducts a pre-Chanukah class in Wilmette, Ill.© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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    • Rabbis, Students Sort Through Debris in Post-Tornado Towns (By Karen Schwartz and Carin M. Smilk)

Students Yosef Peysin and Raphael Stern assist with the cleanup in Gifford, Ill.

The astonishment was apparent; he said he’d never seen anything like it.

“I’ve read about tornadoes and seen pictures of tornadoes, but to see houses destroyed, to see a roof of a house off … ,” described Rabbi Dovid Tiechtel of the aftermath of recent weather-related events in the Midwestern United States.

The National Weather Service reported that at least 16 tornadoes struck Illinois and northwest Indiana on Nov. 17, with associated strong winds affecting states nearby as well. National reports confirm six dead in Illinois and two in Michigan.

The town the rabbi was speaking of—Gifford, Ill., home to almost 1,000 people—was struck by an EF-3 tornado with winds of 140 miles per hour and a path of some 25 miles. While there were injuries, no one was killed.

“When you see destruction like this, there are two reactions,” explained Tiechtel. “The first is: ‘How does this happen, and why do such things happen? The second is: ‘Wow, what a miracle! All this happened, and everybody survived. And you realize that great miracles take place.’ ”

Great miracles are what Chanukah—which starts on Wednesday night, Nov. 27—is all about, and the rabbi got an early glimpse of them last week. The co-director of Chabad at the University of Illinois and Champaign-Urbana, along with his wife Goldie, went to the hard-hit town—about 18 miles from campus—with a group of students to assist the populace there.

“We had to do something,” insisted Tiechtel, so with a staff member, he drove Wednesday to view the destruction and what people required. They were asked to come back the next day, well before many other volunteers joined in the effort over the weekend.

“I posted on Facebook that I was in Gifford and coming back tomorrow, and we got such a response … everyone wanted to help out. People cancelled their [plans] to come with us” the next day, on Thursday, he said—no small feat because most students were preparing to leave for Thanksgiving break.

 “We talked to one man whose house was flipped on its side; we helped him sort through things and sort through the debris, separating the metals and the wood,” he said. “We brought cases of water and toys—160 bottles of water and two huge boxes of toys. People had brought them to Chabad as donations. We interacted with the [American] Red Cross and the United Way. Most importantly, we were there to put a hand on his shoulder and be supportive.”

“It could be we’re the first Jews they’ve met,” added the rabbi. “They were very touched.”

As for the students who came with him and those involved in the Facebook effort, Tiechtel said: “It tells students we have a responsibility to give back, that we care, and our response to tragedy is not just doing nothing. Our response to tragedy is jump up, take action and make a difference.”

Helping Out Close to Home

Rabbi Eli Langsam, who with his wife Sarah co-directs Chabad Jewish Center in Peoria, about 15 to 20 miles from where the tornadoes struck, seconded that “when the need arises, we’re there.”

He started making calls immediately to folks in the affected areas. One the strongest tornadoes—an EF-4 with winds nearly 200 miles per hour—blew through the nearby town of Washington, population 15,000. One person was killed, more than 100 were injured, and as many as 500 homes sustained damage.

Pekin, a city in the Peoria metropolitan with nearly 35,000 residents, was hit by an EF-2 tornado with winds of 120 miles per hour.

In all, seven counties in Illinois were declared state disaster areas.

“It’s total communities decimated, gone, and the whole thing took about a half-hour,” said Langsam. “It was a hot day [last] Sunday, around 70 degrees, and around 11 o’clock, it started pouring rain and hail and everything, and before we knew it—boom!”

He drove to see the areas right away, and on Thursday went to lend a hand to sort through the rubble, returning Friday morning with a group from Bradley University in Peoria, not far from Chabad and where he works with Jewish students.

“It was raining like crazy,” reported the rabbi. “It was totally surreal; it looked like a war zone, like a bomb exploded and destroyed the houses. It’s unbelievable; you can’t believe what you see. They weren’t even letting people go back to their houses.

Brittney Nadler delivered bottled water and other essential supplies.

Brittney Nadler delivered bottled water and other essential supplies.

“I think it’s important to realize that we have to help out,” continued Langsam. “This is our mission, to help those in need. This is a time when we can show, at the end of the day, that Jewish kids are coming to help people. When we see a disaster like this, it gives us an opportunity to appreciate what we have—and to thank G‑d as well.”

That’s part of what Brittney Nadler, an 18-year-old freshman at the University of Illinois and Champaign-Urbana, took away from the experience—the depth of appreciation from those who suffered such losses. She accompanied Tiechtel to Gifford, along with other students.

“I couldn’t get over how optimistic everyone was” when they arrived, she said. “They were really grateful we were there and helping.”

A budding journalism and global-studies student from the Chicago suburbs, she heard about the Chabad effort the night before via email from the president of her Jewish sorority, Alpha Epsilon Phi. She responded right away that she’d be there.

“I’ve never seen a disaster zone or anything like that,” she said. “We pulled up to the town, and it was weird to see how one block was totally fine and the next block was totally destroyed. We helped a guy clean up what was left of his home; we went through the debris. You could see the foundation, and there was stuff everywhere.”

She said she would volunteer again, for this or a similar situation, once she returns from break.

“What better place to get help than a university 20 miles away? There are a lot of us with time and energy,” said Nadler. “We were talking about it with the rabbi on the way home.”

After all, she said: “What if something like that happened to my town? I’d want people to come help, so why shouldn’t I go? You have to put forth that effort when it happens to other people.”© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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    • Celebrating 'The New Year of Chassidism' (By Menachem Posner)

Gathings worldwide will commemorate Yud Tes Kislev—the 19th of the Hebrew month of Kislev and the "birth" of Chassidism—as in this celebration last year in Moscow.

From 10,000 students and adults from all walks of Jewish life at the International Convention Center in Jerusalem, to intimate Chassidic farbrengens (gatherings) at synagogues and Chabad centers in every corner of the globe, Jews worldwide observed two days of commemoration and celebration of the 19th and 20th of the Hebrew month of Kislev, known as “the New Year of Chassidism.”

The 19th of Kislev marks the day in 1798 that a Czarist commission acquitted and freed from imprisonment the first Chabad-Lubavitch Rebbe—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe—on charges that included subverting the government in S. Petersburg and aiding the Ottoman Empire. It is also the anniversary of passing of his mentor, Rabbi Dov Ber of Mezerich in 1772. The acquittal is regarded in Chassidic circles as signaling a heavenly decree that the rabbi’s teachings should be publicly disseminated. As a result, the annual daily study cycle of the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s seminal work of Chassidic thought, began anew.

In celebration of the 19th of Kislev, 120 visitors from across the former Soviet Union and the world gathered at Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s resting place in the Ukranian city of Haditch at the synagogue, mikvah and welcome center that opened one year ago, inspired by the late philanthropist Sami Rohr. Rabbi Menachem Taichman, who directs the center, led a weekend of celebration together with Rabbi Aharon Eliezer Ceitlin, renowned Chabad educator from Safed, Israel.

In Jerusalem, more than 10,000 Jews from every sector of Israeli society gathered at the city’s International Convention Center, Binyanei HaUma, for a gathering sponsored by the Chabad-Lubavitch Youth Organization in Israel.

The organizer of the events, Rabbi Moshe Shilat, is the founder and head of Torat Chabad Libnei Hayeshivot in Kfar Chabad, Israel.

Speakers included Rabbi Yoel Kahan, senior mashpia (“person of influence”) in the central Lubavitcher yeshivah in Crown Heights, Brooklyn; Chief Rabbi of Russia Berel Lazar; author and Kabbalist Rabbi YitzchakGinsburg; and author Rabbi Yehoshua Shapiro.

Also on deck was a concert featuring the Alter Rebbe's niggunim (“religious melodies”), performed by notable Israeli singers Shuli Rand and Eviatar Banai, including a choir led by world-renowned clarinetist Chilik Frank.

In the Borough Park section of Brooklyn, some 1,500 people gathered on Saturday night for a festive meal organized by Heichal Menachem, a library and research center dedicated to disseminating Chassidic teachings.

some 1,500 people gathered on Saturday night for a festive meal organized by Heichal Menachem, a library and research center dedicated to disseminating Chassidic teachings. (Photo: JDN)

some 1,500 people gathered on Saturday night for a festive meal organized by Heichal Menachem, a library and research center dedicated to disseminating Chassidic teachings. (Photo: JDN)

Speakers included Rabbi Moshe Wolfson, the venerable mentor at Yeshiva Torah Vodaas in Brooklyn and rabbi of Congregation Emunas Yisroel, also in Brooklyn; and Rabbi Baruch Oberlander, chief Chabad shaliach to Hungary, as well as a noted historian and scholar.

In northern Palm Beach Island, Fla., Hindel Levitin says she and her husband, Zalman, hosted their community at a farbrengen led by Chabad rabbi and musician Ruvi New, known for leading rousing Chassidic classics and original compositions, through which he shared the beliefs and ideals formulated and promulgated by the Alter Rebbe.

“Attending the farbrengen forges a special bond between the attendees and us, our Rebbe and our Chassidic approach—bringing them into our world,” she says. “When I was growing up in the Chabad enclave in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, 19 Kislev was a major day on the calendar which we lived and breathed for weeks in advance, so it’s very special that we are able to share this experience with our community.”© Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

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