Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Festival of Slights

Merry Jewish Christmas! 

You may think me ironic in saying so, but I only mean my irony ironically.  Now that we’re kishkes-deep in the season of tinsel and nog, I think I’m ready for a little holiday rant.  Coming along?  Good!

I’m okay with the xmas glurge.  It’s not my gig; I’m in no position to bemoan the mallification of the manger or to suggest that peace on will and the Kind Good Earthman might be better served than by festooning one’s home with garish lights and animatronic reindeer.  Hell, I like that yule kitsch.  It’s sparkly and fun and some of it even smells good.  The music, I could do without, but with the iPod my ears are much less likely to be assaulted by the muzak of the season.  I get a day or two off work, the inlaws send me stuff, and all is, as they say, good.

My issue is with that vocal Hebraic minority among which I count myself, and the resolution of so many of us to render our solstital holiday on a par with the mighty Mass of X.  Frankly, it seems to me little more than a desperate act of public relations.  Chanukah is an ancient festival, going back to the second century before Mr Xmas himself; it commemorates a nigh-miraculous military victory and is entitled to its due share of rejoicing and respect.  It has its own traditions and its own attributes.  The lighting of the menorah is a cherished part of my heritage; so is the frying of latkes, the distribution of gelt, and the gaming of dreidels.  As with all Jewish holidays, it is also celebrated by the sharing of food and tzedekah – aid to those less fortunate.  Small gifties, mere tokens really, were also traditionally distributed.  The story of the Maccabean miracle is retold, a shecheyanu is recited, and families commit their hearts to each other.  It’s a very nice festival.

None of this should suggest that it is a major festival, though, for it is not one – not like Pesach or Rosh Hashona or Sukkoth or Shavuoth.  These are the highlights of the Jewish calendar.  Chanukah, rather, is a minor festival, like Purim and Lag B’Omer.  It is to be observed and respected, but it should not overshadow those holy days that, despite being perhaps foreign to most gentile ears, are the most important dates of the Jewish year.  Chanukah is very nice, but it’s definitely in the second tier.  So why is it the only Jewish holiday that most of America hears – or has ever heard – of? 

Back in the day, Jewish folk kept to themselves.  More often than not this was because they had to, by explicit law or implicit understanding.  Ghettoization was a matter of social policy and local kings typically decreed Jewish separateness as a condition of allowing them to remain on the land.  Separateness brought with it many obvious disadvantages, but one good thing was cultural hegemony.  The Jews didn’t compete with their neighbors for celebratory primacy.  Pesach was Pesach, not “jewish Easter.” The Sabbath started Friday night, not Sunday morning.  Chanukah was a stand-alone event. 

Come the enlightenment of the 19th century, shtetls and their Jews began to be absorbed into the larger communal environment.  Suddenly, Jews and gentiles engaged in regular social and economic intercourse at all levels of society.  There was nothing to keep them apart anymore, nothing to keep Jewish tradition pristine.  Suddenly, the integrated Jews found their structure of festivals and holidays also integrated, into a Christian calendar that bore inestimably more weight and momentum.  Jewish kids looked longingly upon the windfalls enjoyed by their new neighbors upon their celebration of their December holiday (a holiday that itself was a co-option of long-forgotten pagan precursors).  Jewish merchants felt the pull of economic opportunity. The solution was easy enough – conflate the coincidental Jewish holiday with the yuletide spirit of buying and gifting.  Chanukah took a piggyback ride (non-kosher implication intended) on Christmas, and it’s been riding high right up there ever since. 

So we lit our menorah last night, and passed around a few goodies, and munched gelt, and I called my parents to say yom tov.  I cooked a traditional supper with brisket and latkes and old-world schnecken for dessert.  But now at work I’m being asked what I “got,” and what I “do” if I don’t “get” something every night.  I hear Chanukah “carols” playing from electronic dreidels.  I am left feeling that, if I don’t Chanukah it up to a level equivalent to the windows at Macy’s, I’ve disrespected my past. 

I want to offer a different perspective: It’s not that big a deal.  Chanukah is nice, and I take it seriously, but I don’t build my year around it.  Those who do are really falling for a relatively newfangled ploy.  I’m okay with that – go on and enjoy Chanukah just as much as you wish.  Put the blue-and-white lights on your mitzvah tree and watch the RugRats special.  I’m not stopping you – I support you.  Just don’t try to make me follow in your footsteps.  It’s about an oppressed people overthrowing totalitarian rule and celebrating in the ruins of their Temple with the looted remainders of their former wealth.  When you ask me how I did with the presents, I’m going to tell you that I got one night’s light to last for eight.  The rest is ancillary.  Go and enjoy it if you wish, but please don’t feel obliged. 

Upcoming: more regular un-ranty stuff.  Happy holidays!