Hanukkah – Page 2

Torts and the Jewish holidays

I’m that grown-up who jumps to catch a kid who is about to fall off a playground slide, even if the kid isn’t mine. I’m saying, “Hey, be careful! You don’t want to hurt your bum,” or whatever concern is applicable. Some feel I’m overprotective. Rather than using unkind words like “hovering,” I prefer “proactive worrier.”

I felt isolated with this habit. Then I got to know the contractors for our home renovation better. The brothers who worked for us were also parents. They did everything possible to keep kids, dog and parents safe as they worked on the house with us living in it. The older brother, the electrician, would spell out exactly which hazards he was trying to avoid. He would close a door, put up a sign saying “Please stay out” or another proactive way to avoid problems. The day they installed a big new bathtub was a good example. After caulking it, the tub was filled with water to weigh it down and create a good seal. We knew the kids and dog would be very tempted to check it out – we imagined kids falling in in their clothing, playing with rubber duckies, a dog jumping in and flooding the room. We strategized how to keep everyone away from the tub until the caulk hardened.

I was surprised when I started studying Bava Kamma, a Babylonian talmudic tractate dedicated to civil law, particularly the law of damages and compensation owed. In “fancy” legal vocabulary, this is tort law, which “provides damages to victims in compensation for their losses.” The rabbis of the Talmud thought through these issues. They used examples from their day. They talked about oxen that gored, camels that fell (and caused a stumbling block) and other unpredictable situations. I’d heard sermons where people laughed about this level of detail, but my brain returned to those playground moments. Perhaps others don’t take these examples seriously because they’ve never interacted with large, stubborn livestock or a fussy, heavy toddler or two.

Here’s an example of a question posed in a baraita in Bava Kamma 29: “If one’s jug broke and he did not remove its shards, or if his camel fell and he did not stand it up, Rabbi Meir deems him liable to pay for any damage they cause. The rabbis say that he is exempt according to human laws, but liable according to the laws of Heaven.” So, the understanding is, if you create a dangerous situation, you’re obligated to clean it up. If you don’t clean it up, you’re still responsible for it. You’re guilty even if you don’t owe money as compensation.

Examples like these keep popping up. This tractate is a Jewish rabbinic lesson in taking responsibility for our actions. How might something we do harm someone? What if it’s an accident, like dropped pottery? What if you purposely left broken glass or pottery that could harm others?

This ancient rabbinic text can seem dry, as law texts might be, but also relevant. In the last few days, many communities have started to use law as an excuse to exclude public acknowledgement or celebration of Hanukkah. Moncton, N.B., made a name for itself in this way. A Hanukkah candlelighting has been customary there for 20 years. Suddenly, this year, the mayor and council felt it interfered with the separation of church and state. They canceled the event, although Moncton City Hall decorates with angels, a Christmas tree and wreaths. A last-minute petition with many opposing voices succeeded in forcing a new vote that overturned this decision, so the menorah and candlelighting were reinstated.

Other communities wrestling with this include Williamsburg, in my home state of Virginia. Organizers there suggested that a menorah lighting couldn’t be allowed unless it was under a “ceasefire now” banner. In Britain, a London town council reversed their decision to cancel a public menorah lighting after an outcry. Back in Canada, in Calgary, Alta., the mayor canceled her attendance at the city’s public menorah lighting.

Suddenly, the rabbis’ detailed discussions in Bava Kamma make more sense. Their debates explore when someone is wronged by accident, and if they owed compensation. However, they also include the question of responsibility when someone is wronged “on purpose.” For example, when a government uses the law to suppress a minority religious observance, like Hanukkah. When this kind of action takes place, it does harm. It does harm beyond whether Jews are legally allowed to light a hanukkiyah in a public place. The message it sends causes bigger damage and fear.

After all, if Jews in Canada or the United States aren’t allowed to publicly celebrate their religious rituals, it feels unsafe to be Jewish in these places. Where is it safe? Most Jews would then think about Israel as being the place where it’s truly safe to be Jewish. The people who want to withdraw public observance of Jewish traditions due to the Israel/Hamas war send a message to Jews living in North America – it’s not OK with them to have a Jewish homeland in Israel. It’s also not OK with them for Jews to observe their religion openly here. They probably missed the irony, as their message is that it’s especially not OK when the Jewish holiday is about religious freedom.

Laws about compensation for damages can sound uninteresting. It becomes more intriguing when imagining an unsafe play structure, a broken piece of pottery or a camel that won’t budge. It gets even more pertinent – and uncomfortable – when the law is used to keep us from celebrating our religious traditions freely, in public, without fear, in a democracy.

While Hanukkah is ending, it’s still the time of year when many indulge in more sweets and tortes than we’d planned. Sadly, it’s a different kind of tort this year, one where we consider how to compensate for the potential loss of religious freedom.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

A time for miracles

Hanukkah is a reminder that darkness can be transformed into light, and that miracles are possible.

With so much conflict, misery, anxiety and hopelessness in the world, we need some miracles.

There have been a few rays of hope in Israel in recent days – the release of hostages from Gaza has brought a world of relief to the families and friends of those freed and to Jews and others abroad. As a people, we will not rest until all those who have been kidnapped are returned home safely.

Even then, the war will likely continue, with the stated goal of eradicating Hamas. As catastrophic and heartbreaking as the war and the atrocities that sparked it have been, this is a single battle in a longer conflict that seems destined to go on, at least for the time being.

When we look at today’s events in the context of a larger history, it is understandable to conclude that things are not getting better, but worse. Silver linings in such a situation seem few and far between. To be honest, in this space we try to find something constructive and hopeful in every topic we confront, and it has rarely been more difficult than in the past two months.

As students of history, we can only offer this piece of hope: many times, in our individual lives, in the story of the world and in the 3,500 years of history of the Jewish people, seemingly intractable problems have been resolved in stunning and unexpected ways.

Consider three massive geopolitical examples that have happened in the living memory of most of us.

Many of us grew up under the shadow of nuclear catastrophe. Some of us may recall practising hiding under our desks in preparation for a nuclear explosion. All of us who are middle-aged or older certainly remember a world viewed as a binary of “us” (the capitalist West) and “them” (the communist East).

From the perspective of the child cowering under the desk, the idea that the defining global status quo would end not in a bang – the ultimate bang – but with the relatively peaceful dismantling of the Soviet Union and its client regimes, would have seemed unimaginable. The Cold War, which defined our worldview and, at times, threatened our very existence, ended peacefully more than 30 years ago. Just a short time before it did, nobody could have foreseen the unfolding of events.

Likewise, the end of the racist regime in South Africa and its apartheid institutions. One of the most venal systems ever imagined was ended not by bloody revolution, but by a relatively peaceful, collaborative transition to democratic majority rule.

A third example, the Irish conflict, understatedly referred to as the “Troubles,” largely ended with the successes of the Good Friday accords of 1998.

In all three of these instances, the resolution of what seemed like intractable, even existential, challenges were overcome with remarkably sudden and unanticipated events.

It should be noted as well that, in all three cases, events played out very much because of specific leaders who were involved, who took immense risks, were willing to compromise, and placed an immense amount of hope in the goodwill of their people to make their societies and, by extension, the world a better place.

We might say that we don’t see great figures on the horizon on either side of the conflict that presently consumes us with such intensity. But this is precisely the point. Vast historic changes have happened when least expected because movements and visionary individuals emerged and ushered in changes, upending the seemingly rigid status quo.

The Israeli leadership has promised that the current war will eliminate the terrorist autocrats who have run Gaza. The leadership in the West Bank is inevitably going to change before long as well, if only because the current president is aged 88.

Not incidentally, when this horrible war finally ends, Israelis will be undertaking a very serious review of recent events. It is entirely reasonable to expect significant changes at the top of both Israeli and Palestinian power structures in the very near future.

The truth is, in change there is hope. And, indeed, change is the only thing that is inevitable.

It might be also time to dig up an old chestnut from David Ben-Gurion, who said something that is relevant here not only because of the time of year – Hanukkah – but because of the time of history.

“In Israel, in order to be a realist, you must believe in miracles.”

Growing and sharing our inner light

If we fear “advertising” our identities, we should do everything we can to maintain our inner light and self-worth in trying times. (photo from PxHere)

Years ago, my husband lost both his grandmother and his great aunt. Several years apart, he traveled to the Lower East Side in New York to attend their funerals at the same funeral home. There was a rabbi there who officiated at both funerals. This rabbi told the same story twice. Perhaps he had only the one funeral teaching, but my husband remembered it. This rabbi suggested that a famous rabbi taught that the worst of the plagues against the Egyptians was darkness. Why was darkness the worst? It was all encompassing, overwhelming, and seemingly permanent. No one knew if the sun would ever return. This rabbi used this to talk about death, but the metaphor stayed with us.

Despite our efforts to find the source for this story, we couldn’t track down its origin. While looking for it, I thought about darkness and what we can learn from it as we celebrate Hanukkah this year.

There are parallels between the Hanukkah story and our current struggles. Before Oct. 7, Israelis were distracted by potential changes to their court system and very divided politically. While that political turmoil didn’t disappear in the face of the massacre and the war, Israelis have immediately united in the aftermath to work together. Israelis I know have said that it isn’t the government that is taking care of those who are displaced, but rather nongovernmental organizations and volunteers from every corner of Israeli society. Israelis are cooking meals for soldiers, for moms managing as single parents for long periods of time, and for those who have been evacuated or made homeless by the conflict. Israelis and the Jewish people worldwide have also worked together as a people to take care of one another.

The military conflict of Hanukkah is a story of division and unity. There were Jews at this time, around 200 BCE, who had become increasingly assimilated and Hellenized. They cooperated with the Seleucid Empire. There was societal upheaval. Others were more traditional in practice and offended by the changes made by more “liberal”-minded Jews and King Antiochus. The Maccabees represented the traditional or more orthodox Jewish tradition. They rose up against King Antiochus’s pagan practices and the more assimilated Jews who had adapted to Hellenistic practice.

We know now that the Maccabees won these battles. They rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem. This is a military victory and a story around religious or national liberation. The rabbis tried to focus the religious observance on the miracle of the light (the “ner tamid,” the holy flame in the Temple that should not go out) rather than on the military situation. However, we wouldn’t have Hanukkah without these historical cultural conflicts or the Maccabees’ wars.

The historical details of this struggle are in the books of the First and Second Maccabees, which describe the Hanukkah story. While there are many references to the holiday in the Mishnah, the detailed story has been maintained through the Catholic and Orthodox churches, which kept First and Second Maccabees as part of their Old Testament. Protestants don’t include these books in their bibles. We study these texts to understand Hanukkah, but they don’t hold any official status in Jewish tradition.

This, too, has a parallel to our modern experience. While we know our traditions around Hanukkah, some of the context comes from many historical texts preserved by others. During this war against Hamas, we are being forced to defend ourselves against antisemitism, and also to defend the existence of the state of Israel. The worldwide Jewish community doesn’t have to use our personal experiences to educate others about this. The historical contexts for understanding both antisemitism and the need for the existence of the state of Israel are embedded in world history. Learning about the historical roots of Christian antisemitism in Europe or in the dhimmi law of Islamic empires is part of the greater history. Information about when the Romans conquered Israel and destroyed the second Temple can be found in multiple sources, including on the Arch of Titus in Rome. The creation of the modern state of Israel in 1948 is also part of a much broader historical context.

The rabbis chose, in creating the rules around the holiday of Hanukkah, to focus on light and miracles rather than military victories. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks (z”l) wrote in “8 Short Thoughts for 8 Hanukkah Nights” about the ways in which the light is emphasized. His fifth short thought focuses on Maimonides’ teaching about how to fulfil the mitzvah of Hanukkah. Maimonides teaches that lighting candles on Hanukkah is precious and that one must sell something or borrow to fulfil this commandment. Yet, if one finds Shabbat is coming and you have only one candle? Light it for Shabbat. In this case, Maimonides teaches: “The Shabbat light takes priority because it symbolizes shalom bayit, domestic peace. And great is peace because the entire Torah was given to make peace in the world.” Sacks suggests that, “in Judaism, the greatest military victory takes second place to peace in the home.” He points out the great victory is a spiritual and not military one.

For Israel today, too, the great victory must be the notion of continuing to pray and negotiate for peace while also navigating difficult military situations.

Sacks makes several points that could be articles on their own, but the ones I felt most drawn to remain relevant. The Hanukkah candles should be lit so that people can see them outside, but if one is afraid of inviting hate, it has long been taught that it is OK to light the candles indoors, out of public view. Still, we are meant to be public about our “light” more generally and fight for it, if necessary. If we fear “advertising” our identities, we should do everything we can to maintain our inner light and self-worth in trying times.

Finally, Sacks discusses a story in the Talmud in which Rav and Shmuel, third-century rabbis, disagree over whether you can use one Hanukkah candle to light another (if you lack an extra candle, a shamash, the helper candle, that is used to light the other eight candles). Rav suggests that you may not, as this might diminish the light of the first candle. Shmuel disagrees, and halachah (Jewish law) follows Shmuel, who teaches that you can use one Hanukkah candle to light another because it helps the light grow and brings us more light. Using your light to enlighten others is the best practice.

I bumped into a rabbi I admire who lives in Winnipeg, where I live. We were each dropping off kids at a Jewish youth group activity. He wore a ball cap, as he was “off duty.” I thanked him for his contribution to a news article about the war and local protests, and he responded, “These are dark times.”

Like the plague of darkness in Egypt, we don’t know exactly how or when things will lighten. We need Hanukkah’s message and rituals to offer that light. Maybe we won’t put our Hanukkah candles on public display this year, but we can draw wisdom and comfort from our long history and rabbinic teachings. These teach us to reach deep to find the messages of hope, faith and peace from a story about a war. This time around, we need to act individually like Hanukkah candles. We can lend our inner lights to volunteer, to speak out, to support others and to kindle others’ lights during a hard time. Even during times of war and hate, we can be the light.

As we light the hanukkiyah

When we look at our calendars – especially that darkest of recent days, Saturday, Oct. 7, 2023 – it’s hard to imagine that that now-infamous date is part of a millennia-long continuum.

About 2,200 years ago, the Maccabean revolt against the Greeks controlling Judea succeeded in the rededication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem. From this ancient victory, we celebrate Hanukkah, lighting candles over eight nights to honour our brave ancestors then and those who have followed.

Now, more than two millennia later, we call on the Israeli Defence Forces to protect Israel from Hamas who, on Oct. 7, murdered more than 1,200 (mostly) civilians, injured more than 5,400 and abducted more than 240 elderly women, men, children and other civilians. Since that day, 200,000 Israelis have had to flee their homes and all in the entire country are living under constant threat of thousands of indiscriminately fired rockets launched by Hamas from Gaza.

Operation Iron Swords is the Israeli response fighting for the safety of its people and, in fact, for its very existence. Is it Israel’s right to defend itself? Yes. But it’s much more than that. It is Israel’s obligation to its citizens, as it would be any country’s that wants to call itself a state.

This operation, so necessary and yet so treacherous both on the ground and in the world of public opinion, has been used as an excuse for a disgusting surge in anti-Israel and – let’s be truthful – anti-Jewish rhetoric, threats, anarchy and vandalism. We’ve seen this before, in the May 2021 Gaza War and its aftermath, and we are seeing it again, only now the campaigns are emboldened and expanded by years of online Jew-hate that has made its way from the fringes to the centre.

Judy Zelikovitz (photo from CIJA)

What can we do? As descendants of the Maccabees – and generations more of intrepid survivors – we can rally, finding strength and comfort in our collective calls for civility, tolerance and bedrock Canadian values.

We can stay informed and stay connected.

We can, as thousands young and old across Canada have done already, donate to our local federation’s emergency campaigns supporting Israelis. How proud we can be that Canada’s diaspora has already raised more than $100 million in response to the emergency. Federations have already sent millions to support victims of terror, evacuees and those in need.

We can say something if we see something. The Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs tracks hate-based incidents at cija.ca, under the Get Involved link. If you witness an antisemitic incident, report as many details as you can remember and, if it’s safe to do so, take pictures. If there is a threat or a crime, contact your local police. Many have officers specializing in this kind of report.

Just as we honour our forebears who protected our lives, our culture and our values, we will honour those who were injured or died on Oct. 7. We will keep the Canadians who lost their lives in our hearts and remember their bravery in saving the lives of others.

At CIJA’s Antisemitism: Face It, Fight It conference in mid-October, most among the 1,000+ attendees were Jewish. But hundreds were not. We are not alone in fighting antisemitism.

As we light our hanukkiyah candles this year, let us celebrate the courage of those who went before us, of those who served us in sacrifice over thousands of years, and let’s ensure that those protecting Israel now feel our support and our gratitude. Let us be the light!

Wishing you and yours a joyful, meaningful Hanukkah.

Judy Zelikovitz is vice-president, university and local partner services, at the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs.

Art sale for Israel

“Jerusalem Market, 1959,” watercolour and pencil, by artist Pnina Granirer, a graduate of Bezalel Academy of Art and Design in Jerusalem. Granirer will have a table of her artwork for sale in the atrium of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver on Dec. 3, 10 a.m.-3 p.m., as part of the Chanukah Around the World party marketplace. The works will be unframed, priced from $100 to $500, with all proceeds being donated to Israel, in the hope that the donation will help it in its hour of need. For more on Granirer, go to pninagranirer.com.

The party is a joint event with multiple community partners: King David High School, Vancouver Talmud Torah, Richmond Jewish Day School, PJ Library, Camp Miriam, Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia, and the Kollel. In addition to the marketplace, it will feature games, iSTEAM activities, food, arts & crafts, museum displays, entertainment throughout, a community singalong and a JCC membership sale. Visit jccgv.com/jcc-chanukah-carnival.

Perfect gifts for holiday

In 2019, NASA astronaut and scientist Jessica Meir was part of the first all-woman spacewalk. According to : Jewish Women who Rocked the World, she “celebrated Hanukkah in space by wearing festive holiday socks and sending a Happy Hanukkah message to earth on social media.”

This is just one of the many “Fun Fact[s] to Mench’n” in this enlightening book written by the mother-daughter team of Rachelle Burk and Alana Barouch, and illustrated by Arielle Trenk. She’s a Mensch! is one of two books the JI received from Seattle’s Intergalactic Afikoman to review. The other is the perfect antidote to the “girl math” phenomenon popularized on social media, though hopefully kids under 9 aren’t engaging with that. Counting on Naamah: A Mathematical Tale on Noah’s Ark by writer Erica Lyons and illustrator Mary Reaves Uhles imagines Noah’s wife as being a genius in math and engineering.

Using the basics of the Noah story, Counting on Naamah offers a midrash of sorts. “A midrash is a tale that begins with a story from the Torah. Then it fills in the missing pieces to imagine the rest,” explain Lyons and Reaves Uhles at the back of the book. “The story of Noah leaves a lot to the imagination. What was it actually like to live on that ark? How did they take care of all those animals? And who was the generally unnamed ‘Mrs. Noah’? Counting on Naamah tries to answer these questions.”

The story begins when Naamah is a child, and uses her talents to help each of her three brothers – with market transactions, estimated herd transport times and archery angles. She has her own projects, as well, drafting plans for a desert sand scooter, for example.

When she meets and falls in love with Noah, the two become “impossible to divide,” but Naamah retains her agency and is a crucial help in building the ark, housing and feeding the animals, and more. And Noah knows just what to do to thank her.

Counting on Naamah is a charming story, creatively and colourfully illustrated. As is She’s a Mensch!, which is a nonfiction work that highlights 20 women who “rock!”

“Jewish women ‘round the world have talent, strength and smarts,” the book starts. “They shine like stars in every field from science to the arts.

“Jewish women through the ages have helped shape history. These mensches are authors and activists, athletes and adventurers, and everything in between.”

Indeed, the women featured range from writer Emma Lazarus in 1883 to Meir, in 2019. They include familiar – Golda Meir, Barbra Streisand, Ruth Bader Ginsburg – and less familiar names, like Marthe Cohn, who was a spy for France during the Second World War; Vera Rubin, who provided proof of dark matter in the 1970s; Nalini Nadkarni, who performed the first survey of rainforest treetops in 1981; and Judit Polgár, who became a chess grandmaster at age 15, in 1991. There’s a list of 18 honourable mentions.

Each entry in She’s a Mensch! has something different: unique drawings that connect the mensch to their chosen pursuit, a four-line poem and a short blurb about the mensch, often a fun fact, and always a mensch-related question to ponder, such as, How can you help others? (Henrietta Szold) What kinds of stories can you tell? (Judy Blume) and What great adventures do you dream of going on? (Cheryl and Nikki Bart)

Both of these books would make great Hanukkah gifts for kids of any gender. As would this year’s Hanukkah addition to Intergalactic Afikoman publisher Brianna Caplan Sayres’ and illustrator Christian Slade’s Diggers series, which has more than 10 books, and counting.

Where Do Diggers Celebrate Hanukkah? (published by Penguin Random House) would be a happy addition to a kid’s Diggers collection, or a fun introduction to the series. For the diggers, cranes, mixers, armoured trucks, tankers, dump trucks and food trucks, we’re asked to wonder what each does for an aspect of the holiday. For example, “Does Mom dig up the ancient jar that held the precious oil?” And the cranes, “Do they decorate their construction site with ‘Happy Hanukkah’ all around?” After a day of serving meals outside, do food trucks “serve sufganiyot and other food that’s fried?” Inquiring minds will want to know.

Exploring sufganiyot’s origins

Sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts) for Hanukkah have come a long way, and now come in countless variations. (photo by Avital Pinnick / Flickr)

In Israel, sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts) have gone through a major revolution. For years, they were injected with strawberry jelly and dusted with confectioners’ sugar. In a recent ad by a well-known Israeli bakery, there were 14 variations of sufganiyot, including the “classic strawberry jam.” Twelve are dairy and two are pareve (can be eaten with milk or meat dishes).

For the pareve offerings, there are colourful sprinkles, dairy-free chocolate and ganache (filling made from chopped chocolate and heavy cream). Among the dairy choices are “Raspberry Pavlova,” filled with sweet cream and topped with raspberry ganache, pavlova (a meringue named after the Russian ballerina, Anna Pavlova), sweet cream and Amarena cherries; “Curly,” filled with cream and topped with Belgian chocolate and milk, dark and white chocolate curls; “Mozart,” filled with nougat-flavoured sweet cream, frosted with white chocolate strips and topped with Mozart cream (a chocolate liqueur) and chocolate curls; “Cheese Crumbs,” filled with cheese mixed with white chocolate and butter cookie crumb frosting and topped with cream cheese; and “Pistachio,” filled with pistachios, frosted with white chocolate ganache, and topped with pistachio cream and pistachio shavings.

Jewish law does not prescribe any special feasting or elaborate meal for Hanukkah as it does for other holidays. Maybe this is because the origin of Hanukkah is not in the Torah but in the Apocrypha, the books of literature written between the second century BCE and the second century CE, which were not incorporated into the Hebrew Bible.

The Books of Maccabees, of which there are four separate books, only say that the hero, Judah, “ordained that the days of dedication of the altar should be kept in their season from year to year by the space of eight days from the first and 20th day of the month Kislev, with mirth and gladness.”

So, where do we get all the food we eat? It is in the Talmud, where the so-called miracle of the oil burning for eight days is written. This myth was inserted to de-emphasize the miracle of military triumph and replace it with a more palatable idea, that of the intervention of G-d, which somehow would seem more a miracle than a fight of man against man, according to the sages of the time. (By the way, it is only within the past few years that children’s books about Hanukkah dare say the oil story is a legend or a myth.)

Practically every Jewish ethnic group has the custom of making and eating a form of food prepared in oil as a reminder of the “miracle” of the jar of oil.

The late Gil Marks wrote, in The World of Jewish Desserts, that doughnuts fried in oil, ponchikot, were adopted by Polish Jews for Hanukkah. The name is taken from the Polish word paczki, which led to the nickname ponchiks, the Polish name for jelly doughnuts. Ponchiks are similar to jelly doughnuts, only larger and more rich tasting, and were traditionally served on Shrove Tuesday, the day before Lent. They were made to use up shortening and eggs, which were prohibited during Lent.

Sufganiyot have a different history. In The Jewish Holiday Kitchen, Joan Nathan, an acquaintance of mine from our Jerusalem days and noted cookbook author and maven of American Jewish cooking, noted that she learned the origins of sufganiyot from Dov Noy (z”l), former dean of Israel folklorists.

Noy related a Bukhharian fable to Nathan, which says that the first sufganiya was a sweet given to Adam and Eve as compensation after their expulsion from the Garden of Eden. Noy said the word sufganiya came from the Hebrew word sof, meaning end; gan, meaning garden; and Ya, meaning G-d. Thus, the word means, “the end of G-d’s garden.”

According to Noy, this fable was created at the beginning of the 20th century, as sufganiya is a new Hebrew word coined by pioneers. Some say sufganiyot means sponge-like and that the doughnuts are reminiscent of the sweet, spongy cookie popular along the Mediterranean since the time of the Maccabees. Hebrew dictionaries say the word actually comes from the Greek word sufgan, meaning puffed and fried.

John Cooper, author of Eat and Be Satisfied: A Social History of Jewish Food, has another theory. He says Christians in Europe ate deep-fried pastries on New Year’s Eve, and Christians in Berlin ate jelly doughnuts. In that context, German Jews started eating apricot-filled doughnuts. When they immigrated to Palestine in the 1930s, they encouraged the population to eat the jelly doughnuts for Hanukkah.

One of my favourite pieces of research is the characteristics that sufganiyot are said to have:

• they are round like the wheel of fortune;

• they have to be looked at for what is inside, not for their external qualities; and

• they cannot be enjoyed the same way twice.

My research on the internet shows the calories for one sufganiya vary from 93 to 276, and gluten-free versions with rice flour are about 165 calories.

Whatever their origin – or number of calories – sample the real thing and you won’t forget it!

Sybil Kaplan, z”l, was a Jerusalem-based journalist and author. She edited/compiled nine kosher cookbooks and was a food writer for North American Jewish publications, including the Jewish Independent. We communicated regularly, but mostly in the leadup to a holiday issue. Not having heard from her in advance of this Hanukkah paper, we reached out, getting the sad news that Sybil recently passed away. It was a pleasure working with her for these past 20+ years and we will miss her. She always provided more stories than we could use, so, in this issue, we run a few we had yet to publish, honouring her in our way. May her memory be for a blessing.

Appetizers for the holidays

Cheese puffs (photo from jewishlink.news)

For a Hanukkah night gathering or on Dec. 31, as we move into a new secular year with a celebration, small or large, appetizers are a wonderful addition to any party. Here are some quick and easy recipes for appetizers when you’re hosting – or contributing to a potluck.

CHEESE PUFFS
(makes 40)

1 cup water
6 tbsp butter, cut into small pieces
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup flour
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
4 large eggs
1 cup coarsely grated kosher Swiss cheese

1. Preheat oven to 425°F. Prepare several large cookie sheets with vegetable spray and flour.

2. In a saucepan, combine water, butter pieces, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, add flour and stir vigorously about two minutes with a wooden spoon until mixture forms a ball and is firm. Remove from heat.

3. Beat in mustard, eggs and cheese.

4. Drop by heaping teaspoons onto cookie sheets one-and-a-half inches apart.

5. Place one sheet in top third of oven and one in bottom third of oven. Bake for 15 minutes.

6. Reverse position of sheets and bake five minutes more or until puffs are golden brown. Serve hot.

ARTICHOKE CHEESE SQUARES
(makes 8 servings)

2 six-ounce jars marinated artichoke hearts
1 small finely chopped onion
4 eggs
6 crushed crackers
2 cups kosher shredded sharp cheddar cheese

1. Preheat oven to 325°F and grease a large baking dish.

2. Drain artichoke hearts, reserving two tablespoons of marinade. Place in a bowl.

3. Place reserved marinade in a frying pan and sauté onions.

4. Remove from heat and add artichokes. Add eggs, crackers, cheese.

5. Pour into baking dish and bake 35-40 minutes.

6. Cut into one-inch squares. Serve immediately or reheat before serving.

photo - Garlic bread “fries” — Garlic bread “fries” *(photo from jewishlink.news)*

GARLIC BREAD “FRIES”
(Grace Parisi is a well-known chef, and she created this party snack for Food & Wine. It makes 8-10 servings)

4 tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup olive oil
3 large minced garlic cloves
1/2 cup chopped flat leaf parsley
1 large split and halved baguette
1/2 cup freshly grated Pecorino-Romano or a sheep’s cheese

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.

2. In a frying pan, melt butter in olive oil. Add garlic and cook one minute.

3. Remove from heat and add parsley.

4. Place bread on baking sheet cut sides up. Spoon garlic butter on top, sprinkle with cheese and bake 10 minutes.

5. Turn on broiler and broil one minute.

6. Cut bread into half-inch “fries” so they look like bread sticks.

MARINARA “KETCHUP”

1/4 cup olive oil
3 peeled, halved garlic cloves
1 tbsp tomato paste
35 ounces canned, whole, peeled Italian tomatoes
salt and pepper to taste
pinch of sugar
2 sprigs basil

1. Heat olive oil in a saucepan. Add garlic and cook, stirring, five minutes.

2. Add tomato paste and cook one minute.

3. Add tomatoes, crushing them with the back of a spoon.

4. Add salt and pepper.

5. Stir in sugar and basil and bring to a boil. Simmer until sauce is reduced to three cups and thick. Discard basil and garlic.

A fresh take on Hanukkah

Chicago a cappella in June 2022. The ensemble released Miracle of Miracles: Music for Hanukkah last month. (photo by Kate Scott)

The CD Miracle of Miracles: Music for Hanukkah arrived at the Jewish Independent unsolicited. The album, released last month by Cedille Records, features a range of songs from the American Jewish musical tradition, performed by Chicago a cappella vocal ensemble. As someone who spent a good portion of her teenagehood in a choir at a Conservative synagogue and about a decade singing in another Conservative synagogue choir later in life, I have been happily singing along to this recording, enjoying the fresh take on songs with which I am mostly quite familiar.

Miracle of Miracles will appeal most, I think, to someone like me, who grew up in a Conservative Judaism milieu where a cantor and choir formed a large part of the service, or someone who appreciates classical music, as Chicago a cappella are classically trained A-listers, who perform a repertoire of music from the ninth to the 21st centuries. The current artistic director is John William Trotter, and Miracle of Miracles was recorded over a few days last January at Northeastern Illinois University in Chicago.

The CD opens with an arrangement of “Oh Chanukah / Y’mei Hachanukah” by Robert Applebaum that the liner notes describe as “modern versions of the song form from the confluence of at least two streams, the first springing from Hebrew lyrics, the second flowing together from Yiddish and English sources. Turning again to [composer] Harry Coopersmith’s mid-20th-century collection … to create something of a mash-up of ‘Oh Chanukah’s’ popularity.”

There are several Applebaum arrangements. His “Haneirot Halalu” (“These Lights We Light”) mixes English translation and commentary into the traditional Hebrew lyrics, and his “Maoz Tzur” is a cantor-choir interplay that comprises elements most of us will recognize and be able to join initially, but then becomes more complex. His finger-snapping arrangement of Samuel E. Goldfarb’s well-known “I Have a Little Dreidl” – called “Funky Dreidl” – is in English with the Hebrew “nes gadol haya sham,” “a miracle happened there,” as a kind of chorus. It’s followed on the CD by a lively rendition of Mikhl Gelbart’s Yiddish “I Am a Little Dreidl (Ikh bin a kleyner dreidl).”

Other Yiddish offerings are Mark Zuckerman’s arrangement of “O, Ir Kleyne Likhtelekh” (“O, You Little Candle”), the lyrics of which were written by poet and lyricist Morris Rosenfeld, and an arrangement by Zuckerman of “Fayer, fayer” (“Fire, Fire”) by Vladimir Heyfetz, about burning the latkes while frying them.

Applebaum’s jazzy “Al Hanism” (“For the Miracles”) is one of three versions of the song on this recording. There is also an arrangement by Elliott Z. Levine that is the traditional, fast-paced version I’ve sung countless times and love, and the expansive, movie soundtrack-sounding arrangement by Joshua Fishbein.

Levine also contributes “Lo v’Chayil” (“Not by Might”), based on text from the Book of Zechariah, which is not a Hanukkah song per se, but, as the liner notes say, “rather the more transcendent spirit that underlies the commemoration of Hanukkah.” Translated from the Hebrew, the verse is: “Not by might nor by power, but by My spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts.”

Other composers/arrangers whose work is featured on this CD are Steve Barnett (“S’vivon” / “Little Dreydl”), Gerald Cohen (“Chanukah Lights”), Daniel Tunkel (four movements of his “Hallel Cantata”), Jonathan Miller (“Biy’mey Mattityahu” / “In the Days of Mattityahu”).

Two bonus tracks are included: an arrangement by Joshua Jacobson of Chaim Parchi’s Hanukkah tune “Aleih Neiri” and Stacy Garrop’s take on the prayer for peace “Lo Yisa Goy”: “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”

In the program notes, Miller, who is Chicago a cappella’s artistic director emeritus, talks about the limited number of Hanukkah songs that are appropriate for an ensemble to perform, commenting that “Jewish choral music is a recent phenomenon, begun in earnest only about 200 years ago in Berlin, so there’s a simple quantity issue: we have much less repertoire to peruse than in other choral traditions. Given all of this, we are especially grateful for the composers and arrangers whose persistence and skill have given us the works found here.”

photo - Chicago a cappella artistic director John Trotter — Chicago a cappella artistic director John Trotter. *(photo from Cedille Records)*

Despite the dearth of Hanukkah choral music, Trotter, the ensemble’s current artistic director, observes that the CD comprises “a sprawling variety of styles.”

“There are at least two reasons for this breadth,” he writes. “On the one hand, we are in debt to the fertile imaginations of our composers, who envisioned so many different sound worlds and so many different ways to clothe these texts. But there is also the nature of Hanukkah itself, which offers so many different modes of personal, social and spiritual practice. Consider just three of these. Hanukkah offers the chance to reflect on the historical significance of the Maccabean revolt, with its consequences echoing through to the present day. It invites quiet contemplation of the candle flames, set aside from any utilitarian purpose. And it provides an opportunity to gather with family and have a really great party with really great food.”

Miracle of Miracles would provide a perfect acoustic background for a Hanukkah gathering. To purchase a CD or buy or stream the music digitally, visit cedillerecords.org/albums/miracle-of-miracles.

A first step to solutions?

Among other things, Hanukkah is about bringing light into the darkness. There is plenty of darkness in the world and a vast range of concerns calling for radiance.

Mainstream media seem to have taken the cue that Hanukkah is the moment to discuss the alarming and rising phenomenon of antisemitism. Time magazine declares: “Amid antisemitism, Hanukkah celebrations carry new weight.” USA Today explained a new tradition: “On Hanukkah, the ninth candle reflects how anyone can fight antisemitism by sharing truth.” Here in Canada, both Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and Opposition Leader Pierre Poilievre highlighted antisemitism in their annual Hanukkah messages. Expect to see similar expressions of concern in a few days, as the end-of-2022 reflections on the good and bad of the year just passed and hopes for the fresh new year fill pages and airtime during the slow news days of the winter holidays.

We are not complaining. This issue needs thorough and ongoing coverage. It just seems, somehow, that writing and talking about what is often called the world’s oldest bigotry lacks new insights. Many agree that this is a problem. Few, though, have solutions beyond platitudes.

Finding innovative ways to think and talk about “the world’s oldest” anything is, by definition, a challenge. Some of the greatest scholars in the world have studied the problem, vast networks of activist organizations and Jewish communal agencies devote themselves to defeating it, and still it grows. If we had the definitive explanation or the silver bullet to solve it, you would not be reading it here – we would be sharing our wisdom from the dais of the Nobel Prize ceremony and as the lead story on the world’s media. Undaunted, a few thoughts:

The very phrase “antisemitism” may be problematic. The term was invented in the late 1800s by a proud antisemite to describe his orientation. But while there is a great deal of conscious and visible antisemitism in the world today that rightly raises alarms, there has always been an equally, perhaps more, worrying phenomenon in the form of unconscious bias about Jews that permeates many societies and individuals. This is more insidious and, therefore, more difficult to challenge.

It is worth noting that antisemitism is often most prevalent where no or few Jews exist, making it easier to project onto a largely imaginary enemy the fears and hatreds carried by the individual or the society. Similarly, we see a projection of Jewishness onto any unpopular phenomenon, an example being the “Great Replacement” theory, a paranoid fantasy in which whatever the perpetrator despises (in this case immigration) is cast as a problem with Jewish roots.

Both of these phenomena touch on what we suspect is the nut of antisemitism: it is a problem that affects Jews but it is not a problem of Jews. That is, if Jews did not exist, the antisemites would have to invent them – which is, in essence, precisely what they have done with the caricatured “Jew” that is demonized by antisemites.

This understanding, of course, does nothing to resolve the problem. And, again, a problem known as “the world’s oldest hatred” is not going to be solved in one generation with one easy antidote. It is encouraging, though, to see the range of responses to the problem, from more in-depth coverage in mainstream media to the statements of top leaders in Canada, as well as in the United States, where a major presidential effort against antisemitism is being led by Doug Emhoff, the second gentleman of the United States, who recently led a roundtable of leading thinkers, and in a host of other undertakings worldwide.

As is said in a different context, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. As a society, we have a consensus that antisemitism is a growing problem. As we approach 2023, we hope those thoughts will turn to even more action in confronting this confounding blight.