Life – Page 52

Judith’s link to Maccabees

Many Jews retain the custom of honoring Judith by eating cheese for Chanukah, and the custom of eating dishes like cheesecake and blintzes emerged from the story of Judith. Many Jews retain the custom of honoring Judith by eating cheese for Chanukah, and the custom of eating dishes like cheesecake and blintzes emerged from the story of Judith. (photo by Andrevan via commons.wikimedia.org)

Mention symbolic foods for Chanukah and everyone immediately responds – latkes and sufganiyot. But someone may say cheese pancakes. Cheese? Why?

The Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law), written in the 1500s by Rabbi Joseph Ben Ephraim Caro, a Jew from the Iberian Peninsula, is a digested version of commentaries on laws in the Talmud (commentaries on the first five books of the Bible). The Shulchan Aruch is meant to be an authoritative volume on commandments and, in this volume, there is a legend that dairy dishes and cheese pancakes were to be eaten for Chanukah to commemorate the bravery of Judith, who was a Hasmonean, the same clan as the Maccabee family. As well, Rabbi Moshe Isserles, the 16th-century Polish scholar (1525-1572), wrote, in Orach Chaim, that eating cheese commemorates Judith feeding milk to the enemy.

So, who is Judith and why do some Jews honor her at Chanukah? The Book of Judith is part of the Apocrypha – books not included in the Bible as read by Jews and Protestants. Originally written in Hebrew, the 16 chapters of the standard version of the Book of Judith are in Greek. It is surmised that the author of this book was a Jew who lived and wrote in Palestine and probably lived near Shechem.

In the Book of Judith, interestingly enough, Judith is not mentioned in the first half of the story. In the second half, first her lineage is described then we are told that this young woman was a widow for three years and four months. She was the widow of Manasseh, who belonged to her tribe and who suffered some kind of heat stroke while overseeing the barley harvest and subsequently died in the town of Bethulia in northern Samaria where they lived. Bethulia is near where Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers. It was also a city in the hill country of Samaria that occupied a narrow, important pass at the entrance of Judea, from Jerusalem to Jezreel.

We read: “She was beautiful in appearance and was very lovely to behold.” Judith was also wealthy, having been left gold and silver and menservants and maidservants and cattle and lands.

In the story, it is related that Bethulia was under siege by the army of Holofernes, commander-in-chief of the sixth-century BCE Assyrian king Nebuchadnezzar. Holofernes was a soldier sent to destroy any people who did not support his king. In the story, he cut off the water supply of Bethulia. After 34 days, when the town leaders were ready to surrender to Holofernes, the town magistrate, Uzziah, suggested five more days as a compromise to see if G-d would intervene.

Judith was upset that her countrymen had no trust in G-d and did not approve of the five-day compromise, so she sent her maid to summon the town magistrates. She chastised them for putting G-d to a test, and she urged them to call upon G-d. “Therefore, while we wait for His deliverance, let us call upon Him to help us, and He will hear our voice, if it pleases Him.”

Of course, the people were thirsty, and Uzziah told Judith to pray for rain. She was not happy with that suggestion, so she convinced the magistrates to let her try to do something independently – “Stand at the town gate tonight so that I may go out with my maid…. Only, do not try to find out what I am doing; for I will not tell you until I have finished what I am about to do.”

First, she put ashes on her head and uncovered the sackcloth, then she prayed to G-d to hear her, and she prayed for strength to G-d to strike down the enemy. “Give to me, a widow, the strong hand to do what I plan.”

She then went to her house with her maid, removed her widow’s clothes, which she had worn for the past three years, washed her body, anointed herself, braided her hair and dressed as beautifully as when she was married. She adorned herself with bracelets and chains and rings and earrings and ornaments “to entice the eyes of all the men who might see her.”

She and her maid then went outside the city gates with wine and oil, roasted grain, fig cakes and bread, and dishes on which to eat. Together, they went down to the gate of Bethulia where Uzziah and the elders stood. They opened the gate and she and her maid walked down the mountain, past the valley until they were out of sight.

Judith was greeted by the Assyrian soldiers, who took her into custody. They inquired who she was and where was she going. She told them she was a woman of the Hebrews, fleeing from them. She told the soldiers she had information on the Israelites for Holofernes and she would show him how to capture the hill country. The soldiers then chose 100 men to take her to his tent.

The men who were with Holofernes left his tent, and Judith went inside, where Holofernes was laying on a bed under a canopy woven with purple and gold and emeralds and precious stones. She bowed before him, and his servants helped her up. He told her not to be afraid; he had never hurt anyone willing to serve Nebuchadnezzar. They talked, and she told him she would give him information so he could attack Bethulia. Holofernes and his servants were impressed.

Judith told him her people had exhausted their food supply and would kill their livestock. She devised a plan for Holofernes to go against them with his army and she would lead him to Jerusalem. Holofernes was delighted with her beauty and her wisdom.

Holofernes offered Judith food and drink, but she refused. She then left and went to sleep in her tent. She remained in his camp for three days and, each night, she bathed in a nearby spring and then returned to her tent. On the fourth day, Holofernes asked his eunuch to persuade Judith to come to a banquet in his tent. It appeared she had gained his trust. This time, she accepted. She adorned herself, and her maid entered his tent and placed skins on the ground near where Holofernes was sitting.

When Judith entered, we read: “Holofernes’ heart was ravished with her and his passion was aroused, for he had been waiting for an opportunity to seduce her from the day he first saw her.”

Judith drank and ate what her maid prepared. “Holofernes was greatly pleased with her, and drank a great quantity of wine, much more than he had ever drunk in any one day since he was born.”

His servants left them alone, and he fell asleep dead drunk. Only Judith and Holofernes were in his tent. Her maid was outside. Judith prayed for help from G-d. “Now, indeed, is the time to help your heritage and to carry out my design to destroy the enemies who have risen up against us.”

She then took Holofernes’ sword, took hold of his hair and struck his neck twice to cut off his head. She pulled his body off the bed and covered it with the canopy. She gave the head to her maid to put in their food bag. They left the camp and returned to Bethulia.

When the men of the city heard her voice, they called the elders to gather at the city gate and open it for her. Judith took the head of Holofernes out of the bag and showed it to them. They were astonished, and they thanked G-d. She told them to hang the head on the wall. At daybreak, she said, they should take up their weapons and look as if they were going to attack the Assyrian outpost. Holofernes’ men will run to Holofernes, she said, they will panic and flee, and the men of Bethulia will pursue them and cut them down.

At dawn, the men of Bethulia hung the head of Holofernes on the highest part of the wall and waited at the mountain passes with their weapons. The Assyrian soldiers could not believe their eyes, so they went to Holofernes’ tent and found his body on the floor. The eunuch ranted and raved about what this woman had done.

photo - “Judith Displaying Her Trophy,” by Lilian Broca, whose exhibit depicting the heroism of Judith is at the Italian Cultural Centre’s Il Museo until March 31. Most versions of the story, including the Book of Judith itself, say that Judith gave Holofernes wine to drink, but a couple versions mention milk or cheese. (photo from Lilian Broca) — “Judith Displaying Her Trophy,” by Lilian Broca, whose exhibit depicting the heroism of Judith is at the Italian Cultural Centre’s Il Museo until March 31. Most versions of the story, including the Book of Judith itself, say that Judith gave Holofernes wine to drink, but a couple versions mention milk or cheese. *(photo from Lilian Broca)*

When the army heard the eunuch, “overcome with fear and trembling,” they rushed out and fled through the hill country. The Israelite soldiers chased after these enemies and slaughtered them and took their possessions.

The high priest came from Jerusalem to salute Judith and bless her. The people plundered the camp for 30 days. He gave the tent of Holofernes and the general’s possessions to Judith. Then, all of the women of Israel ran together to see Judith and they blessed her and performed a dance in her honor. They adorned her with olive branches, and she went before all the people in the dance, leading all the women, and the men followed the women.

The procession continued to Jerusalem, where Judith took the possessions of Holofernes and offered them as a gift to G-d. The celebrations in Jerusalem lasted three months, after which Judith and the townspeople returned to Bethulia. Judith continued to live there and rejected all the proposals from men who wanted to marry her. At the age of 105, she freed her maid and distributed her property since she had no children. She died and was buried in a cave in Bethulia with her husband.

“No one ever again spread terror among the Israelites during the lifetime of Judith, or for a long time after her death.”

Some scholars have come up with another reason that Judith is a heroine. Both 11th-century French talmudic scholar Rashi and 14th-century Spanish scholar Rabbi

Nissim ben Reuven Gerondi maintained that the Greeks had decreed that all virgins about to marry had to submit themselves to a prince prior to marriage. Because Judith, the daughter of Yohanan the high priest, fed the governor cheese that made him sleepy, and she seized the opportunity to chop off his head, she thus saved the virtue of all future brides from sexual exploitation (Mishnah Berura).

This story in the Mishnah says Judith fed Holofernes cheese to make him thirsty. Since Judith lived about the same time as the clan from which the Maccabee brothers came, and they are the heroes of Chanukah, around the 14th century, some Jews instituted on the eating of cheese pancakes and cheese blintzes at Chanukah in honor of her heroism.

According to an article in Schechter on Judaism (Vol. 4, issue 4, December 2003), entitled “Insight Israel,” Rabbi David Golinkin, president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, confirms the original story that, in Orach Chaim, section 670:2 of the Shulchan Aruch, Rabbi Isserles relates: “It is customary to recite songs and praises [to God] at the festive meals which are common [on Chanukah] and then the meal becomes a mitzvah meal. Some say that one should eat cheese on Chanukah because the miracle occurred through milk which Judith fed the enemy (Kol Bo and RaN).”

Golinkin writes: “Indeed, that is what the Kol Bo and Rabbi Nissim of Gerona (RaN) wrote. In his commentary to Rabbi Yitzhak Alfassi (the Rif) on Shabbat 23a … he says that, ‘it says in a midrash that the daughter of Yohanan [the high priest] fed the enemy leader cheese to get him drunk and cut off his head and they all fled, and, therefore, it is customary to eat cheese on Chanukah.’

“The Kol Bo, which is an anonymous halachic work written in Provence in the early 14th century, has a slightly different version of the story. It says that the daughter of Yohanan the high priest fed the Greek king ‘a cheese dish in order that he become thirsty and drink a lot and get drunk and lie down and fall asleep.’ That is what transpired; she then cut off his head and brought it to Jerusalem and, when his army saw that their hero had died, they fled, and that is why it is the custom to cook a cheese dish on Chanukah.”

The question, of course, is where did RaN and Kol Bo find this story? It sounds a lot like the story of Judith and Holofernes, as found in the apocryphal Book of Judith. Indeed, cheese is mentioned in some ancient versions of Judith 10:5, which lists the foods that Judith took with her when she left the besieged city to visit Holofernes. Nevertheless, Judith 12:17-20 describes the way in which Judith got Holofernes to go to sleep; it says explicitly that Judith gave him wine to drink and not a cheese dish. Medieval Jews knew the story of Judith from medieval Hebrew sagas called “The Story of Judith” and the like. Some 18 versions of the story have been published. Most of those versions, including the Book of Judith itself, say that Judith gave Holofernes wine to drink, but a couple of the versions do indeed mention milk or cheese.

“Ma’aseh Yehudit,” which was first published in Sefer Hemdat Yamim (Livorno, 1763), says that Judith “opened the milk flask and drank, and also gave the king to drink, and he rejoiced with her greatly and he drank very much wine, more than he had drunk in his entire life.” In other words, according to this version of the story, Judith gave Holofernes both milk and wine. It is clear that the author was influenced by the story of Yael and Sisera in the Book of Judges, because the phrasing was borrowed from Judges 4:19.

“Megillat Yehudit” relates that Judith, after fasting, asked her maidservant to make her two levivot (pancakes or fried cakes). The servant made the levivot very salty and added slices of cheese. Judith fed Holofernes the levivot and the slices of cheese “and he drank [wine] and his heart became very merry and he got drunk and he uncovered himself within his tent and he lay down and fell asleep.”

Finally, the milk and cheese version of the Judith story is mentioned in a Hebrew poem for Chanukah published by R. Naftali Hacohen in 1757: “… It is mitzvah to eat and rejoice / eating cheese – one cannot force. / It is customary to remember, not to forget / the story of Judith who did it on purpose / to feed him milk to make him sleep.”

American Jewish writer Rahel Musleah discovered that Jews of Tunisia celebrate Rosh Chodesh Tevet, which falls at the end of Chanukah, with chag habanot, festival of the daughters. Mothers give honey cakes and gifts to their daughters, men give gifts to their fiancées and they eat a festive meal to honor Judith.

Scholars have tried their hands at coming up with other reasons why one eats cheese dishes for Chanukah with a little gematria. The Assyrian oppressors forbade the celebration of Rosh Chodesh, Shabbat and brit milah. If one takes the first letter of the Hebrew word for month, chet from chodesh; the second letter of the Hebrew word for Sabbath, the bet of Shabbat; and the third letter of the Hebrew word for circumcision, the lamed of milah, you get the Hebrew word chalav, which is milk.

Matthew Goodman, the Food Maven of the Forward newspaper maintains that the first latkes were probably made from curd cheese and fried in butter or olive oil. By the Middle Ages, as Jews migrated into Eastern Europe, butter and oil were expensive and poultry fat became a frying agent, thus cheese would not be used. By the 16th century, pot cheese was either unavailable or expensive, so first buckwheat flour and then potatoes were substituted and, ultimately, potato pancakes became common fare for Chanukah.

Meanwhile, many Jews retain the custom of honoring Judith by eating cheese for Chanukah, and the custom of eating dishes like cheesecake and blintzes emerged from the story of Judith. Some believe the salty cheese that Judith served Holofernes may have been in the form of fried cakes. Recipes for ricotta pancakes in Italy and feta cheese pancakes in Greece may be modern versions of these ancient fried cakes.

It is a custom that women do no work on Chanukah as long as the lights are burning, and they should not be lenient in this matter. Among some Sephardi communities, women refrain from work all day during Chanukah. In other communities, this custom is followed only on the first and last days. On the seventh night, women sing, dance, drink wine and eat foods made from cheese.

The reason for particular emphasis of Chanukah observance on the part of women goes back to the harsh decree issued by the Greeks against the daughters of Israel – that every girl who was to be married was to be brought first to the Greek ruler. Additionally, the miracle itself came about through the heroism of a woman.

Among Ashkenazim, many serve latkes with sour cream, and will partake in blintzes. But, for the most part, serving cheese dishes at Chanukah is more popular in the Sephardi tradition. Sephardim typically prepare various rudimentary doughnuts (bunuelos and loukoumades) and fried pastries, such as shamlias (fried dough strips) and zalabiya (batter poured into hot oil in a thin spiral, similar to Amish funnel cakes, and coated with syrup or honey). North African Jews enjoy debla, dough rolled to resemble a rose, deep-fried and dipped in sugar or honey. Italians honey-dip deep-fried diamond-shaped pieces of yeast dough called frittelle. The Bene Israel in India prepare milk-based fried pastry called gulab jamun.

Whichever traditions you follow, you might want to add a new one to honor Judith.

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, foreign correspondent, lecturer, food writer and book reviewer who lives in Jerusalem. She also does the restaurant features for janglo.net and leads weekly walks in English in Jerusalem’s market.

Beacon of light, hope

Fray Juan Ricci (1600-1681), sketch of the menorah as described in Exodus, undated. The number of lights on the chanukiyah – eight – is a break with the traditional seven-branched menorah. (photo by Ellen Prokop via commons.wikimedia.org)

The Festival of Lights is unique. We celebrate it for eight days, when most other Jewish festivals and holy days last one or two days or, at the most, seven. The number of lights – eight – is also a break with the traditional seven-branched menorah, which was rekindled in the Temple after the victory over the Syrian-Greeks. We also add a special prayer, “Al Hanissim,” whereby we thank G-d for the deliverance from our enemies:

“Thou didst deliver the strong into the hands of the weak; the many into the hands of the few; the wicked into the hands of the righteous; and the arrogant into the hands of those who occupied themselves with Thy Torah.”

At each morning service, we relate biblical accounts of the dedication of the altar at the time of Moses, and the gifts brought by the 12 princes of Israel. We are comforted, as a small nation against today’s sea of evil, by the words: “Not by might, not by power, but by My spirit, says the Lord of Hosts.” (Zechariah 4:6)

Even though the Temple was destroyed in 70 CE, it did not affect celebrating Chanukah because it is centred mainly on the home. In the third century CE, when our enemies launched their persecution of the Jewish people, when kindling Chanukah lights was forbidden, as often happens, this later awakened special esteem for the rite. It became a sanctification of G-d’s name, with special blessings.

Light has great significance in Judaism. Even during the plague of darkness in Egypt, we are told “all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings.” (Exodus 10:23) Although Chanukah imposes minimum religious restrictions, we are required to kindle the lights, stating that this commemorates “the miracle, deliverance, deeds of powers of salvation” wrought by the Almighty at this season. We are instructed not to use the lights for any utilitarian purpose – they are only to be seen. We pray to be placed “on the side of light” and the mystical book of Zohar promises “a palace of light that opens only to him who occupies himself with the light of Torah.”

Why did it take the priests eight days to prepare more olive oil for the Temple menorah? The 25th of Kislev marked the peak of the winter olive harvest season. The Maccabees’ hometown of Modiin lay in the heart of the country’s richest olive-growing region. They could have quickly picked the olives, prepared the oil and rushed it to the Temple in Jerusalem, a day’s walk away.

The explanation is that the special oil required for the menorah was clear oil of beaten olives (Shemot 27:20). It was a two-part operation: first, the beating and, then, the resulting mash was piled into flat fibre baskets and weighted to squeeze out the oil. It was not extracted by pressure, but allowed to seep out drop by drop. This process took much longer, producing an oil free of sediment and impurities, which burned a clear flame.

The date of Chanukah is related to the winter solstice, when the longest night of the year gives way to a gradual increase in the length of each day. When the Greeks first desecrated the Temple, they offered sacrifices to Zeus on the solstice. Upon the Temple’s liberation, three years later, the Jews renewed their service to G-d on the anniversary of the day it had been desecrated, as a gesture of defiance.

The Festival of Lights takes on special meaning at this time of darkness. In Israel, we see daily stabbings, shootings, car rammings and murders of Jews. But, no matter how dark the days of intolerance and racism worldwide, Chanukah has special meaning. The miracle is not just the supernatural one of the flask of oil. It is that beacon of light, the passion of man that transcends the momentary and the opportune. The Chanukah lights, like the Jewish people, refuse to be extinguished.

Dvora Waysman is the author of 13 books. She can be contacted at ways@netvision.net.il or through her blog dvorawaysman.com.

Accumulating lights over holiday

The schools of Hillel and Shammai debated how the chanukiyah’s candles should be lit. (photo by Gil-Dekel via commons.wikimedia.org)

The following is an excerpt from the Chanukah chapter of Inside Time: A Chassidic Perspective on the Jewish Calendar, published by the Meaningful Life Centre.

***

“The School of Shammai says: on the first day, one lights eight lights; from here on, one progressively decreases. The School of Hillel says: on the first day, one lights a single light; from here on, one progressively increases.” (Talmud, Shabbat 21b)

Visit, or simply pass by, a Jewish home on any of the eight evenings of Chanukah, and there will be the lights burning in the doorway or window proclaiming the celebration of the Chanukah miracle to the street and to the world at large. They will also be proclaiming which night of Chanukah it is. On each of the eight nights of Chanukah, a different number of flames is kindled, expressing that night’s particular place in the festival. On the first night of Chanukah, there will be one flame illuminating the street; on the second night, two flames, and so on.

Actually, the Talmud records two opinions on how each Chanukah night should identify itself and radiate its unique light into the world. This was one of the halachic issues debated by the two great academies of Torah law, the School of Shammai and the School of Hillel. The sages of Hillel held that the Chanukah lights should increase in number each night, in the familiar ascending order. The sages of Shammai, however, were of the opinion that eight flames should be lit on the first night, seven on the second, and so on, in descending number, until the eighth night of Chanukah, when a single flame should be lit.

The Talmud explains that the sages of Shammai saw the Chanukah lights as representing the “upcoming days” of the festival – the number of days still awaiting realization. Thus, the number of lights decreases with each passing night, as another of Chanukah’s days is “expended.” On the first night, we have eight full days of Chanukah ahead of us; on the second night, seven days remain, and so on. The sages of Hillel, on the other hand, see the lights as representing Chanukah’s “outgoing days,” so that the ascending number of flames reflects the accumulation of actualized milestones in our eight-day quest for light.

photo - Rabbi Yanki Tauber — Rabbi Yanki Tauber *(photo from Meaningful Life Centre)*

In practice, we follow the opinion of the Hillel school, and an ascending number of lights chronicle the progress of the festival. This is even alluded to in the very name of the festival: the Hebrew word Chanukah forms an acronym of the sentence “chet neirot vehalachah k’veit Hillel” (“eight lights, and the law follows the School of Hillel”).

Our acceptance of Hillel’s perspective on Chanukah is also expressed by the name traditionally given to the eighth day of Chanukah – the only day of the festival to be distinguished by a name of its own – Zot Chanukah.

The name Zot Chanukah is based on a phrase from that day’s Torah reading, and literally means, “This is Chanukah.” This is in keeping with the Hillelian vision of Chanukah, in which the final day of Chanukah – the day on which all eight days of light have been actualized – marks the climax of the festival. Only on the eighth day can we say, “This is Chanukah. Now we ‘have’ the entire Chanukah.” (From the Shammaian perspective, the first day of Chanukah would be Zot Chanukah.)

What is the basis for these two visions of Chanukah? And why is the view of the School of Hillel so decisively embraced, to the extent that it is implicit in the very name Chanukah, and in the name given to its culminating day?

The debate

There are two primary ways in which one might view something: a) in light of its potential, or b) by its actual, manifest state. We might say of a certain person: “He has tremendous potential, but his actual performance is poor.” The same can be said of a business venture, a relationship, an experience, or anything else. Or, we might say: “There’s potential for disaster here, but it can be contained and prevented from actualizing.”

Some of us are potential-oriented, which means that we would admire the person, invest in the venture, stick it out with the relationship and treasure the experience – depending upon its potential. Some of us are more actual-oriented, viewing things in terms of their actual, tactual impact upon our reality.

This is a recurring theme in many of the disputes between the schools of Shammai and Hillel. For example, the sages of Shammai consider the moment of the Exodus to have been the eve of Nissan 15, when the people of Israel were free to leave Egypt, while the sages of Hillel place the moment at midday of the following day, when the Jews actually exited Egypt’s physical borders. In another debate, the sages of Shammai consider a fish susceptible to ritual impurity from the moment the fisherman pulls his catch out of the water, since at this point the fish has been removed from the environment in which it might possibly live; the sages of Hillel disagree, contending that as long as the fish is actually alive (though its potential for continued life has been destroyed), it is immune to contamination, as are all other living plants and animals.

This is also the basis of their differing perspectives on Chanukah. The School of Shammai, which views things in terms of their potential, sees the first day of Chanukah, with its potential for eight days of light, as the point in which all eight days are “there.” After one day has “gone by” and passed from potential into actuality, there are left only seven days in their most meaningful form – the potential form. The sages of Hillel, on the other hand, see the actual state as the more significant. To them, the eighth day of Chanukah, when all eight dimensions of the festival have been actualized, is when the festival is at its fullest and most “real.”

G-d’s reality

We are creatures of the actual. We cannot live on potential nourishment, or be emotionally satisfied by potential relationships. On the whole, we judge people by their actual conduct, as opposed to their potential to behave a certain way. Reality, to us, is what is, not what might be.

This is largely due to the fact that we are physical beings. It is a most telling idiosyncrasy of our language that “immaterial” means “insignificant”: if we cannot touch it or see it, it’s not real to us. Also, because of our finite and limited nature, we possess potentials that we will never actualize because we haven’t enough energy, resources or willpower to carry them out, or simply because we won’t live long enough to do so. So, the existence of a potential or possibility for something is not enough, for how do we know that it will amount to anything? Indeed, we often judge a thing’s potential by the actual: if this much has been actualized, this “proves” that there is potential worthy of regard.

Envision, however, a being who is neither physical nor finite; a being not limited by space, time or any other framework. In such a being, potential does not lack actualization, as everything is “as good as done.” On the contrary: potential is the purest and most perfect form of every reality – the essence of the thing, as it transcends the limitations and imperfections imposed upon it when it is translated into physical actuality.

For G-d, then, the potential is a higher form of being than the actual. This is why we say that, for G-d, the creation of the world did not constitute an “achievement” or even a “change” in His reality. The potential for creation existed in Him all along, and nothing was “added” by its translation into actuality. It is only we, the created, who gained anything from the actual creation of the world.

So, when the sages of Shammai and Hillel debate the question of which is more significant from the perspective of Torah law, the actual or the potential, they are addressing the more basic question: Whose Torah is it – ours or G-d’s? When Torah law enjoins us to commemorate the Exodus, when it legislates the laws of ritual impurity or when it commands us to kindle the Chanukah lights, does it regard these phenomena from the perspective of its divine author, in whom the potential is the ideal state, or from the perspective of its human constituency, who equate real with actual?

The Torah

Whose Torah is it, ours or G-d’s? Both Shammai and Hillel would agree that it is both.

The Torah is the wisdom and will of G-d. But, as we proclaim in the blessing recited each morning over the Torah, G-d has given us His Torah, for He has delegated to mortal man the authority to interpret it and apply it. Thus, G-d did not communicate His will to us in the form of a detailed manifesto and a codified list of instructions. Instead, He communicated a relatively short (79,976-word) Written Torah (the Five Books of Moses), together with the Oral Torah – a set of guidelines by which the Written Torah is to be interpreted, decoded, extrapolated and applied to the myriad possibilities conjured up by the human experience.

So, while the entire body of legal, homiletic, philosophical and mystical teaching we know as Torah is implicit within the Written Torah, G-d designated the human mind and life as the tools that unlock the many layers of meaning and instruction contained within its every word.

The Torah is thus a partnership of the human and the divine, where a kernel of divine wisdom germinates in the human mind, gaining depth, breadth and definition, and is actualized in the physicality of human life. In this partnership, our human finiteness and subjectivity become instruments of the divine truth, joining with it to create the ultimate expression of divine immanence in our world – the Torah.

Which is the more dominant element of Torah, divine revelation or human cognition? Which defines its essence? What is Torah – G-d’s vision of reality or man’s endeavor to make his world a home for G-d? At times, the Torah indicates the one; at times, the other. We have the rule that “The words of Torah are not susceptible to contamination.” A person who is in a state of ritual impurity (tum’ah) is forbidden to enter the Holy Temple; but there is no prohibition for him to study Torah. Why is he forbidden to enter a holy place but permitted to think and speak holy words? Because the Torah is not only holy (i.e., an object subservient to G-d and receptive to His presence) – it is divine. It is G-d’s word, and the divine cannot be compromised by any impurity.

On the other hand, another law states that, “A teacher of Torah who wishes to forgive an insult to his honor can forgive it.” This is in contrast to a king who, if insulted, has no right to forgive the insult, and has no recourse but to punish the one who insulted him. For a king’s honor is not his personal possession, but something that derives from his role as the sovereign of his people; one who insults the king insults the nation, and this is an insult that not even the king has the authority to forgive. Yet does not one who insults a Torah scholar insult the Torah? How does the scholar have the right to forgive the Torah’s insult? The explanation given is that “the Torah is his.” He who studies Torah acquires it as his own; G-d’s wisdom becomes his wisdom.

Whose Torah is it – ours or G-d’s? Both descriptions are valid; both are part of the Torah’s own self-perception. In certain laws and circumstances, we find the divinity of Torah emphasized; in others, its human proprietorship.

Thus, in a number of laws, the schools of Shammai and Hillel debate which definition of Torah is the predominant one. The sages of Shammai believe that in these particular applications of Torah law, the divinity of the Torah predominates. The Torah’s perspective is synonymous with G-d’s perspective, meaning that the potential of a thing is its primary truth. The sages of Hillel see these laws as belonging to the “human” aspect of Torah, so that the Torah’s vision of reality is the human, actual-based perspective.

The human festival

In the great majority of disputes between the sages of Shammai and Hillel, the final halachic ruling follows the opinion of the School of Hillel. Halachah is the application of Torah to day-to-day life. In this area of Torah, it is the human element which predominates; here, reality is defined in terms of the actual and tactual, rather than the potential.

But nowhere is the supremacy of the Hillelian view more emphasized than in the debate on Chanukah, where the very name of the festival, and the name given to its final day, proclaim that “the law follows the School of Hillel.” For Chanukah is the festival that, more than any other, underscores the human dynamic in Torah.

As noted above, the Torah consists of two parts: a) the divinely dictated words of the Written Torah; b) the Oral Torah, also communicated by G-d, but delegated to man. In the Oral Torah, G-d provides the guidelines and principles, while human beings follow these guidelines and apply these principles to derive and express the divine will.

The Oral Torah has two basic functions: to interpret the Written Torah and to legislate the necessary laws, ordinances and customs required to preserve the Torah and Jewish life through the generations.

Most of the festivals are explicitly ordained in the Written Torah. This is not to say that there is no “human element” involved in the biblically ordained festivals: the Oral Torah is still required to clarify each festival’s laws and observances. For example, the Written Torah commands us to dwell in a sukkah and take the “four kinds” on Sukkot, but the Oral Torah is needed to interpret the oblique biblical allusions that tell us how a sukkah is to be constructed and which plant species are to be taken. Still, the festivals themselves were instituted by direct divine revelation.

There are two festivals, however, that are rabbinical institutions: Purim and Chanukah. These belong to the second function of the Oral Torah – to institute laws and observances that derive not from a verse in the Written Torah, but which arise out of the historical experience of the people of Israel.

These, too, are Torah, for they were enacted in accordance with the principles revealed at Sinai. Before reading the Megillah on Purim or kindling the Chanukah lights, we say: “Blessed are You, G-d … Who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to read the Megillah,” or “… to kindle the Chanukah lamp.” G-d is commanding us to observe these mitzvot, for it is He who granted the leaders of each generation the mandate to institute laws, ordinances and festivals. Yet, in these festivals, it is the human aspect of the Torah which predominates, while the divine aspect is more subdued.

Of the two rabbinical festivals, Chanukah is even more “human” than Purim. Purim was instituted during the era of prophecy, when G-d still communed directly with the greatest individuals of the generation. The story of Purim was written down and incorporated within the Holy Scriptures that are appended to the Written Torah. Thus, while Purim is technically an Oral Torah festival, it is closely related to the Written Torah.

Chanukah, however, occurred several hundred years later, when prophecy had ceased and the canon of the 24 books of the Tanach (Bible) had been closed. It thus belongs wholly to the Oral Torah – to the predominantly human aspect of the partnership. So, Chanukah is the environment in which the Hillelian perspective on Torah – Torah as it relates to our tactual experience of the world in which we live – reigns supreme.

Rabbi Yanki Tauber is the author of the new three-volume set Inside Time: A Chassidic Perspective on the Jewish Calendar, which provides a comprehensive overview of the Jewish concept of time and the Jewish calendar. A promotional video can be found at youtube.com/watch?v=4PClRJGofFw. Tauber is also the author of Beyond the Letter of the Law, Once Upon a Chassid and The Inside Story.

Ordinary holiday in Chelm

Reb Cantor and Rabbi Yohon Abrahms paused at the top of the hill to watch the sun spread its warm red rays in a growing embrace across the Black Forest. (photo by Rainer Lück via commons.wikimedia.org)

It was an ordinary Chanukah in the village of Chelm, which was strange. Depending on who you talk to, Chelm is called a village of fools or of wise people, and there’s always something going wrong. This year, however … it was quiet.

Chanukah was neither early nor late. The weather was good – not too cold and not too hot. There was enough food so no one was hungry, and the lands surrounding Chelm were at peace; the Cossacks were far away. And, for once, no one got into an argument over whether the Americans should spell the holiday with an “H” or a “Ch.”

On the first night of Chanukah, families gathered and lit their candles according to the traditions of Hillel or Shammai, depending on whether they felt like building up to a big finish or starting off bright and getting more relaxed as each day passed.

“Something is going to happen,” worried Reb Cantor the merchant, as he huffed and puffed his way up Sunrise Hill for his morning exercise with Rabbi Yohon Abrahms, the schoolteacher.

“Something always happens,” said the young rabbi.

“Something bad,” said Reb Cantor. “It’s too quiet.”

“Not when you’re breathing so hard,” said Rabbi Yohon Abrahms.

They paused at the top of the hill to watch the sun spread its warm red rays in a growing embrace across the Black Forest.

“I’m still concerned,” said Reb Cantor.

“You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t,” said the young rabbi.

“I’ll race you to Mrs. Chaipul’s restaurant.”

“But you always win!” said Reb Cantor.

It was too late. The young rabbi was already running, and the fat merchant had no choice but to trundle after, hoping that he wouldn’t trip, fall and roll down the hill like a barrel.

By the time Reb Cantor caught up, Rabbi Abrahms was busy playing a friendly game with Joseph Katz, a well-known dreidel shark. Instead of wagering raisins on who would win, everyone was betting about how many coffee cups and teacups Joseph could rebound a dreidel off before landing on whatever letter he chose.

“Watch this,” Joseph said with a twinkle. He twirled a square top onto the table, where it ricocheted back and forth, striking five mugs and three cups before flying up, hovering over Rabbi Kibbitz’s plate of latkes, and then splashing down into the rabbi’s apple sauce.

“Nun!” said Joseph. “I win.” (In Chelm, foolish as it is, they say it takes nun to win.)

“You always do,” said Rabbi Kibbitz, who fished out the dreidel and wiped it off with a napkin before returning it to the young man.

“Sorry about that,” Joseph said.

Rabbi Kibbitz shrugged. “I’ve always felt that apple sauce is more of a garnish than a necessity.”

“How can you eat those latkes?” whispered Reb Stein, the baker. “I know you love your wife, but….”

Mrs. Chaipul, the rabbi’s wife (she kept her own name, which is another story) was listening from the kitchen to see how her husband would answer.

As the owner of the only kosher restaurant in Chelm, she was known as a miracle worker in the kitchen, with the exception of her lead-sinker matzah balls and her notoriously lethal latkes.

She knew, as did everyone in Chelm, that she had something of a culinary blind spot when it came to potato pancakes. She’d solved the problem at the annual Chanukah party by enlisting the help of Mrs. Rosen and her daughters, but her husband insisted that she still make her old recipe for him.

Rabbi Kibbitz smiled. “First of all, my stomach is protected by my belief in God.”

Everyone in the restaurant rolled their eyes.

“Secondly, it’s a question of scale,” he said. “When she cooks a small batch just for me, they’re quite good.”

“Really?” Reb Stein said.

“Would you like a taste?” the rabbi said, raising a piece on his fork.

“No, no, no, no!” Reb Stein said, hastily backing away. “I have work to do today.”

Even Reb Cantor, who had caught his breath by then, joined in as Reb Stein fled from the restaurant ahead of a wave of laughter.

Every night for seven more nights, candles were lit and the stories of the Maccabees were told. Songs were sung, dreidels spun, and latkes and doughnuts were fried.

More and more families were following the Schlemiel’s tradition of giving Chanukah presents to each other, but it wasn’t to excess. No one fought over whose present was best or biggest. And everyone remembered to give a little extra gelt to Rabbi Abrahms the schoolteacher to honor his contribution to their children’s lives.

On the last night it snowed, but everyone was home safe. They looked out their windows at the falling flakes, glad of their walls and roofs, and warmed themselves in front of their fires. And, as the candles finally burned down, the children were tucked into bed beneath comforters and blankets with a final goodnight kiss.

It was an ordinary Chanukah in the village of Chelm.

For once, nothing bad happened and nothing went wrong.

And that in itself was a miracle.

The End.

Mark Binder is the author of the award-winning Life in Chelm series, which includes A Chanukah Present, The Brothers Schlemiel and Matzah Mishugas. His latest book is Cinderella Spinderella. A professional storyteller, he regularly performs at synagogues, Jewish community centres and the National Yiddish Book Centre.

A fun family weekend away

At the Hands On Children’s Museu, children learn many things, including just how large a bald eagle’s nest is. (photo by Lauren Kramer)

Most small Jewish communities decrease in size over the summer, but not Olympia, Wash. The city’s Jewish population swells by up to 600 as youth from all over the Pacific Northwest and as far afield as Las Vegas converge by bus and plane on Camp Solomon Schechter, a Jewish camp founded 60 years ago.

I ventured to Olympia, a five-hour drive from Vancouver, on a stormy, grey Friday in November, looking for a weekend away from home. Camp Schechter’s sunny season was well behind us and any leisure activities were going to be determinedly indoors. Still, I witnessed a city of 48,000 with a lively, active Jewish community, two synagogues and a Chabad presence.

We stayed in the downtown core and were thrilled to attend Friday night services at Temple Beth Hatfiloh, a Reconstructionist synagogue housed in a beautiful building on 8th Avenue downtown. The rabbi was out of town and the service, led by lay leaders and attended by locals and a good turnout of comparative religions students, was filled with song. Afterwards, at the Oneg in the dining area, I learned that the building had once been home to the Church of Christian Science and was purchased, renovated and converted into a synagogue 12 years ago. Walk the sanctuary, with its high ceilings, elegant aron hakodesh and stained glass windows and you’d never know it started its life as a place of worship for another faith.

photo - Temple Beth Hatfiloh, a Reconstructionist synagogue housed in a beautiful building on 8th Avenue downtown — Temple Beth Hatfiloh, a Reconstructionist synagogue housed in a beautiful building on 8th Avenue downtown. *(photo by Lauren Kramer)*

Olympia is a stately, historic city filled with soaring examples of Greco-Roman-style architecture and irresistibly browsable bookstores, galleries and boutiques. Washington’s version of Victoria, it spreads in an elegant square on either side of Budd Inlet, its beautiful state buildings on a bluff over the ocean and its 278-foot capitol dome visible from most everywhere. There are daily tours of the capitol dome and we gladly joined one led by Ed Smith, a 30-year history teacher whose father had once served in the legislature. He primed our small group on the ornate granite, European marble, carved masonry and more than 300 Tiffany lights and chandeliers that decorate the palatial interior. It’s an impressive place and one that certainly lends gravity to Washington’s history and the business of lawmaking.

It was less than fascinating for a 6-year-old, though, which is why our next stop was the very antidote: the Hands On Children’s Museum of Olympia. These days, almost every city has a generic children’s museum – but this one is far from generic. “Our goal was to only feature exhibits from the Pacific Northwest, things children might see in their own back yards,” said Jillian Henze, communications manager for the 28,000-square-foot museum. Best suited for the 3-to-8-year-old crowd, this innovative space delves into the farm to fork eating experience, the Puget Sound waterway, the forest and the lifecycle of water. Children learn how currents flow, how large a bald eagle’s nest really is, how water and wind pressure work, how to build a house and where food comes from. My daughter Maya had to be dragged out of the museum at closing time.

We left Olympia the next day for Grand Mound, 20 minutes away and home to Great Wolf Lodge, Washington’s equivalent to Disneyland. The massive indoor waterpark is a kids’ paradise, with waterslides that sweep riders on circuitous watery journeys, a large wave pool and two well-designed water play structures – one for toddlers and the other for kids 7 and younger. There’s easily enough entertainment in the waterpark alone for a half-day. But, once you dry off, there’s more to do in the rest of the resort. Around us kids were running about with wands, pointing them at treasure chests and learning their way around a game that lasts four to six hours and occupies them for the duration of their stay. Great Wolf is a hedonistic kids’ experience from which parents emerge looking flushed and exhausted from the combination of heat, chlorine and noise. By contrast, their kids come out starry-eyed and determined to return.

We took the long road back to Olympia on Old Highway 99 to get a glimpse of Tenino, a sleepy city with a fascinating history. I was anxious to learn about Tenino’s sandstone legacy, which dates back to 1888 with the discovery of a large deposit of sandstone – a valuable commodity in the pre-concrete era. In the four decades that followed, Tenino quarries supplied sandstone for buildings in San Francisco and Vancouver, B.C., among other places. The quarries closed in the late 1920s but one of them, the Tenino Stone Company Quarry, was deliberately flooded with water from natural springs by the City of Tenino. It became a 95-foot-deep swimming pool with terraced walls that bear evidence of its history. Unfortunately, most of that history remained an enigma because the doors of the Tenino Depot Museum, usually open on the weekends, were shuttered when we were in town. That’s the problem with sleepy cities, particularly in November. They tend to go into a long hibernation.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond, B.C. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.

If you go …

For general information on Olympia, surf to visitolympia.com
The Hands On Children’s Museum is open daily until 5 p.m. and admission is usually $10.95 US, but is free on the first Friday evening of every month from 5-9 p.m.: hocm.org or 1-360-956-0818
Free tours of the Washington State Legislative Building run every hour on the hour from 10 a.m.-3 p.m. weekdays; 11 a.m.-3 p.m. on weekends
You have to stay to play at Great Wolf Lodge, where accommodation starts around $210/night for a family of four to six people, and includes water park passes: greatwolf.com or 1-866-798-9653

“Jazz up” visit to Jerusalem

In the winter, the Yellow Submarine hosts a collection of shows, many of them jazz, as part of the International Music Showcase. (photo from itraveljerusalem.com)

This article was written several months before the daily terrorist attacks began against Israel. While tourists may be understandably hesitant to visit Israel right now, the country needs support, and a visit is one of the tangible ways in which to give that support. (Editor)

***

Jerusalem may be better known for its religious and historical context than its music scene but, below the surface, a burgeoning jazz scene featuring some of the best musicians in the country delivers a steady diet of under-the-radar concerts in Jerusalem that frequently wow unassuming tourists and locals alike.

“A lot of the best jazz musicians for a couple of generations have come out of Jerusalem,” commented Steve Peskoff, a jazz musician who has lived in Jerusalem for 30 years and teaches jazz guitar and music workshops at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance. “This is the only school in the country granting a degree [in jazz] at the college level,” said the former New Yorker.

Ask around town about jazz, and you’ll typically hear about three mainstays of the scene that are constantly providing a platform for local and international jazz musicians to put their considerable talents on display for the patrons of the Holy City – Birman, Barood and the Yellow Submarine.

If you’re just visiting Jerusalem and don’t have time to wait around for concert dates, then Birman Musical Bistro is your most likely destination.

The popular “musical bistro” located just off the bustling Ben Yehuda Pedestrian street hosts local musicians every day for free-of-charge live concerts. Jazz is the music of choice at least four nights of the week, and the bistro boasts the atmosphere of an old-school music club, with a clientele made up of local musicians, students and music-lovers eager to take advantage of the live music and tasty, yet reasonably priced, food and drinks.

Jerusalem-born Dan Birron opened Birman’s about 10 years ago with live music every night, four of which are usually reserved for jazz, including the Saturday night jam session.

“All musicians in Jerusalem, especially jazz, know my place,” said Birron, who also takes the stage himself on some nights to serenade the crowd with his styles on the accordion. “I’m totally booked for months.”

The performers at Birman are a mixed bag of some of the city’s most established jazz musicians and the younger crop starting out after finishing the army or graduating from the Academy of Music. The city’s jazz scene is “very interesting, with many very talented musicians,” Birron said. “The best ones are coming to my place.”

Not far away from Birman in the picturesque Feingold Courtyard, Barood Bar and Restaurant is one of the most talked-about jazz institutions in the city. Owner Daniela Lerer remembers as a young child hearing jazz and feeling that it spoke to her more than any other genre. It would be another 30 years before she opened Barood in 1995 but, ever since, jazz records have dominated the background music at Barood. These days, you can regularly catch live shows on Saturday afternoons or evenings – in the courtyard during the summer and in the restaurant when the cold weather comes.

After working as a TV producer and at other jobs, she said, “I knew for sure I would have jazz in my bar and restaurant. I began to play jazz here all the time, then I started to bring [other] musicians.”

For many years, well-known American saxophonist Arnie Lawrence, who moved to Israel in 1997, played at Barood once a week until he died in 2005. For the past year, Israeli saxophonist Albert Piamenta, has been playing at Barood one Saturday every month, while other local musicians perform two to three times a month. You won’t find a lot of promotion for the concerts, but most of the hotels in the area keep up to date with Barood’s schedule.

While the jazz community in Jerusalem is relatively small, Lerer has nothing but praise for the local musicians, students at the academy and the small but growing scene. “Jerusalem is very open to jazz now,” she said. “The scene is growing and the young people are really good.”

In addition to the music, Barood also boasts a unique Sephardi kitchen with a Greek influence, where Lerer’s son is chef, featuring pastelicos, a special meat pie made by Lerer, as well as appetizers, salads, main courses, vegetarian dishes, stuffed vegetables, and desserts, all from her Sephardi background.

No list of Jerusalem music institutions would be complete without the Yellow Submarine, one of Jerusalem’s première music venues. For the past seven years, it has offered free weekly jazz concerts.

The weekly night dedicated to jazz is designed to give local musicians the opportunity to be heard, said manager Yaron Mohar, a talented musician, as well as being a sound technician and the director of the School of Engineering and an instructor in the music education department. He explained that the Yellow Submarine is more than just a venue – it is a multidisciplinary music centre, where musicians can rehearse, record and attend programs and performances. It also offers aspiring musicians in high school the chance to earn credits toward graduation through Yellow Submarine courses.

The Yellow Submarine is where you are most likely to catch international jazz acts. Recently, it hosted Austrian jazz guitarist and songwriter Wolfgang Muthspiel and Swedish cellist/bassist Svante Henryson as part of the Israel Festival. In the winter, the Yellow Submarine hosts a collection of shows, many of them jazz, as part of the International Music Showcase.

Within Jerusalem’s community of young, aspiring musicians, there is certainly an appreciation that bodes well for the future.

Ami, a 17-year-old, attends a high school that offers a music major. Beginning in ninth grade, the program concentrates on jazz.

“Jazz is a language,” said Ami, a second-generation pianist. “I’ve been in the program three years but I’ve only actually learned what it means to be part of a jazz community now.”

Ami’s father has a doctorate in music and had a musical career in the United States before he moved to Israel, where he plays jazz piano on a freelance basis at weddings and other venues – and, not surprisingly, frequents jazz nights at Birman.

Mystery photo … Nov. 27/15

Women gathered around a table with a candled cake, National Council of Jewish Women, circa 1955. Leonore Freiman is in the middle. (photo from JWB fonds, JMABC L.13952)

If you know someone in this photo, please help the JI fill the gaps of its predecessor’s (the Jewish Western Bulletin’s) collection at the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C. by contacting archives@jewishmuseum.ca or 604-257-5199. To find out who has been identified in the photos, visit jewishmuseum.ca/blog.

This week’s cartoon … Nov. 20/15

For more cartoons, visit thedailysnooze.com.

Holiday treats for your pets

Chanukah-themed pet gifts can be found aplenty on the internet. Some examples? A bowtie for your dog, cat or ferret from moderntribe.com.

image - Songs for your cat from amazon.ca — Songs for your cat from amazon.ca.

Pets are integral members of the family and there are many options to include your furry companion in Chanukah’s gift-giving celebration. Though most local pet stores will carry plush toys, chew bones and a variety of other treats for your pet, there are some truly cute and creative clothing and toys that are available via the internet – and which, if ordered soon, should make it in time for the holiday.

Moderntribe.com, a U.S. site, has a good selection of Chanukah-themed collars and leashes for your pet as well as plush toys including catnip-stuffed dreidels and gelt. For your cat and smaller dog, there are also Chanukah-themed bow ties and other clothing. Or perhaps a book titled How to Raise a Jewish Dog could be enjoyed by the whole family? The site has a section dedicated to such items.

image - A cat collar by ThePerkyPet from etsy.ca — A cat collar by ThePerkyPet from etsy.ca.

Etsy.ca has both a Canadian and U.S. site and, in a similar way to eBay, allows vendors to post a variety of products for sale. What makes this site different is that most of the products are globally sourced and handcrafted by individual vendors. There is a great selection of Chanukah toys and gifts for your pet, especially on the U.S. site, though some of the vendors may not ship to Canada, so check that out first. A search of “Chanukah pets” on the site should bring up something your pet will enjoy. Etsy has a good selection of pet toys, T-shirts, hats and bandanas – including a dreidel-patterned harness outfit and double-sided bandanas that are also appropriate for your ferret!

Amazon.ca and Petsmart.ca are also good sites to browse because they both have shipping from Canada; but when using their search program make sure that you try a variety of spellings for the word Chanukah.

While it is a lot of fun to include our pets in the gift-giving tradition during Chanukah, it is also important to remember that the most important gift you can give your pet during this busy holiday season is your time. Time to exercise him or her, time to just show you return the love they give you every day of their lives.

image - Gelt that won’t make your dog sick from petsmart.ca — Gelt that won’t make your dog sick from petsmart.ca.

It is also a time to be aware of the dangers that your pet may encounter at this time of year. Chocolate gelt can easily become accessible to dogs – and chocolate is very toxic for animals. Also, the temptation to treat your pet with the delicious food we humans indulge in at Chanukah can make them very sick. Latkes, with their onion component, can cause damage to red blood cells and the sugar and fat found in traditional doughnuts can cause digestive disorders in your pet. So, make sure your children know and show your love in other ways, perhaps with a stuffed singing dreidel, which can be found at multipet.com. It will be a hit with both dogs and kids, though after a few spins, you might be thankful that Chanukah, and the dreidel’s use, only comes once a year.

Leanne Jacobsen is a writer and longtime dog owner, as well as the director of sales at the Jewish Independent.

Mystery photo … Oct. 30/15

Group of B’nai B’rith men, circa 1960. (photo from JWB fonds, JMABC L.12156)