The Charlotte Jewish News - December 2001 - Page 32
Chanukah’s Heroes and Heroines Take on Hellenism
By Sharon Kanon
(Israel Press Service) —
Bravery and unflinching adher
ence to Torah laws characterized
the Jewish heroes and heroines in
the Chanukah story. Daring and
defiant, they refused to give in to
religious persecution and oppres
sion and set in motion the rebel
lion and surprise victory of the
Jewish patriots.
The villain in the - tale,
Antiochus Epiphanes (a Syrian
Greek), heir to the rule of
Alexander the Great, persecuted
the Jews in an effort to thrust
Hellenism on them. He changed
the name of Jerusalem to Antioch,
stole the gold altar and gold meno-
rah from the Temple (169 BCE),
desecrated the holy site with idol
worship and the sacrifice of pigs,
and prohibited circumcision and
the observance of Shabbat.
Hellenistic culture was daz
zling - material wealth, poetry,
drama, sculpture, philosophy,
sports and literature - and one can
see why some Jewish residents of
Judea fell victim to its lures, even
participating naked (like the
Greek athletes) in sports events.
Some went as far as to “undo”
their circumcision.
One of the first heroes to set an
example of defiance against the
Greeks was Elazar, a 90 year-old
scribe, who refused to eat pork. “I
shall not violate the sacred oaths
of my ancestors who swore to
observe the Torah, not even if you
cut my eyes out and bum my
insides... You shall not defile the
sacred lips of my old age...” (The
Book of Maccabees IV, written in
the first century BCE in Greek.)
When suggested that he pretend to
eat pork, to save his life, Elazar
refused. “And so he died, leaving
in his death a model of nobility
and a memorial of virtue not only
to the young but to the mass of his
nation.” (II Maccabees)
Mattathias, an aging Hebrew
priest who had left Jerusalem with
his five sons to live in Modi’in,
was present when Greek soldiers
came and demanded that the Jews
sacrifice a pig to their pagan god.
When a Jew stepped forward to
make the sacrifice, he instinctive
ly drew his sword and killed him.
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Mattathias and his sons fled to a
nearby cave and readied them
selves to fight the Greeks. They
were determined to preserve the
exclusive worship of Judaism and
battle the Greeks both militarily
and religiously.
The elderly Mattathias died
within a year and never saw the
success of the revolt he began. His
son Judah, a brilliant military
strategist, took over as leader. Not
deterred by the heavily-armed
enemy army of 20,000 to 80,000
men, he led his small army of
3,000. With cunning and prayer
and under Judah’s inspired leader
ship, the Jews were able to suc
cessfully confront the Greeks and
eventually recapture the Temple.
“They come against us full of
hubris [arrogance] and lawless
ness, to destroy us, our wives and
our children and to plunder us,”
said Judah. “But we are fighting
for our lives and our laws. God
himself will crush them...” (I
Maccabees 3:16-22).
Later, when the Jewish gueril
las were pitted against the Greek
army, another Elazar seized the
moment. The younger brother of
Judah the Maccabee crept under a
Greek general’s elephant, used as
a super-tank, and slew it with a
spear.
Women were pivotal in the
Chanuka story. Two Chanas stood
out for their heroism. Torture did
not break the will of Ghana or her
seven sons who refused to eat treif
or bow down to Zeus. (The melo
dramatic narrative of multi-mar
tyrdom is told in II Maccabees 7.)
Ghana, the daughter of
Mattathias, is given credit for
inciting the actual rebellion. She
stripped off her clothes in public
after her wedding to shame her
brothers and incite them to rebel
against the Greek decree that a
Jewish bride go directly to the
local official for “first night privi
leges.” “You are ashamed of my
nakedness, but not ashamed to
deliver me to the uncircumcised
Greek official?” she asked incred
ulously.
Exactly three years from the
date that Antiochus initiated idol
worship and desecrated the altar
of the Temple, Judah the
Maccabee organized its rededica
tion. The event, held on the 25th
day of Kislev, 164 BGE (recorded
in Maccabees I), was made festive
with harps, lutes and cymbals.
Improvising a menorah, the
Hasmoneans took iron rods, cov
ered with zinc, and inserted wicks.
Searching for oil, they found only
one bottle of oil sealed by the
High Priest, enough for one day’s
lighting, “a miracle happened, and
there was light from it for eight
days. In the following year, they
established eight festival days,”
wrote the Rabbis in the
Babylonian Talmud (Shabbat).
Ghanukah, which literally
means “dedication,” did not get its
name until over 100 years after
this miraculous event, when
Josephus the historian referred to
it as the Festival of Lights, sym
bolizing religious freedom.
Unlike the Greeks, the
Maccabean heroes and heroines
fought for Jewish beliefs, tradi
tions and values, bringing to their
struggle commitment, vitality and
dynamism.
“For the Jew, there is no greater
sin than the sin of detachment,”
says Mordechai Gafni, a young
Orthodox rabbi involved with
spiritual renewal. “The basic
Hebraic posture in the world is
passionate involvement in the
realness of life. “
And it is this passion, centuries
after the Maccabean victory,
which enables Jewish families
everywhere to continue to cele
brate the festival of Ghanukah as
free men and women. ^
A Good Name Is As Precious As
Chanukah Oil
By Leo Lieberman, Jewish Times
of South Jersey
Pleasantvilie, NJ — Maybe
because it was Ghanukah time
when 1 heard my good friend and
teacher Rabbi Aaron talk about
oil, I was certain that he was going
to be mentioning latkes in the next
breath and maybe even suggest a
new recipe, but then again I knew
■ that when it comes to the recipe
department even the wise Rabbi,
smart as he is, plays second fiddle
to Millie the Rebbitzen. Because
as Tanta Pesha always points out.
That lady is one smart cookie,
especially when it comes to bak
ing. And believe you me, I said a
mouthful. And she laughed at her
own joke.
But this time the thrust of
Rabbi’s sermon was that a good
name was even better than pre
cious oil. And he pointed out that
shem tov (a good name) and she-
men tov (good oil) sounded so
much alike. And so this started me
thinking about names, since I
leave the oil to those far more gift
ed than I.
How times have changed. Now
students call their professors by
first names and another barrier
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separating student from teacher
has vanished. But I remember that
once many moons ago when I was
teaching in The Bronx (remember
that place?) a student asked me
when he could call me by my first
name, and I replied. When you
marry my daughter.
But today students talk about
meeting me in Pam’s office or
Jan’s office and I have to take a
deep breath because I still refer to
these revered folks by their last
name or by their title, “The Dean.”
And I have grown quite accus
tomed to being hailed across the
corridor with a wave of the hand
and a cheerful. Hi Doc. How’s it
hanging? (Now I sort of enjoy the
breezy informality even though
the second part of the greeting
made me check my apparel, just to
make certain that ... forget it.
Enough already.)
And as a child, I sometimes lost
my identity and was simply called
by the kids as “Hey Benny’s
Brother, Do you want to go to the
movies?” But I always felt this
was better than being referred to
as “Hey Kid” although I am not
too sure. It was certainly better
than the way they called Izzy
Fatso or Melvin Four-eyes
because the former was rather
plump and the latter wore glasses.
And I even think it was one step
above just being called Hey There
or Hey You or certainly You with
the Face by those who had (conve
niently?) forgotten my Ghristian
(Ha! I thought that would wake
you up) name.
Now I must admit that even
though names are important and I
remember how much we toiled
and thought and debated and
argued before naming our chil
dren, look what happens. For
example, I get so much delight
when Dr. Franklin Littell spots me
in the cafeteria and with a broad
smile greets me with Well, Young
Fellow, what are you up to? Now
that change of name I can easily
live with. .
And again my mind wandered
to how important names can be,
and how hard I try to remember
each of my student's name,
although each semester it gets
more difficult to keep these names
in my memory since my forgettery
is more powerful and students
keep changing their seats so that
the association process doesn’t
always work when I see Frank sit
ting where I thought Amie was.
Still I do my best knowing how
important names can be.
So the sermon was over and we
were all thinking of going into the
vestry where there would be
Ghanukah candies and latkes and
applesauce and we would be hug
ging and embracing and Yenta-
Leah would tell Tanta Pesha that
she has a recipe for potato pan
cakes that would melt in your
mouth. (I think she meant the pan
cakes not the recipe.) It was then
that a six-year-old cherub saw me
and waved and I tried to remember
his name. Was it Jason? Or
Joshua? I know it wasn’t Izzy or
Bemie because the only Bemie I
knew was in his seventies. But he
smiled at me and extended holiday
greetings with, “Happy Ghanukah,
Ari’s Grandpa.” And that brought
a decided smile to my face since
this was a name I could wear with
pride. And I repeated softly,
“Grandpa.” That is as good as
precious oil. Or perhaps even bet
ter. ^
This story is from Leo
Lieberman’s award-winning week
ly newspaper feature column
“Chalkdust” that received First
Place by the American Jewish
Press Association Rockower
Awprds in the category of
Excellence in Editorial and
Commentary. Leo is Professor of
Holocaust Studies at the Richard
Stockton College of New Jersey
and the author of “Memories of
Laughter and Garlic: Jewish Wit,
Wisdom, and Humor To Warm
Your Heart. ”