Tonight as I mixed latkes, finally, on the fifth night of Hanukkah I had these thoughts:
Born to two Jewish parents I was raised celebrating Hanukkah and the commercial Christmas. For 14 years now I have been married to my Catholic husband. We share the same spiritual beliefs and are raising our children to be compassionate and respectful human beings. This time of year we light the Hanukkah candles, string the Christmas lights around our house and on our tree. For eight nights they open gifts from us and on Christmas morning they revel in gifts from their grandparents and Santa. We live in a town that at last check was 46% Catholic and 46% Lutheran. There is a church on every corner, some across the street from each other and there is one Jewish Synagogue that I/we have visited on rare occasions.
I’m invited into my kids’ classrooms, sometimes by them and sometimes by their teachers to share about Hanukkah and our traditions. I thoroughly enjoy these occasions but it also leads me to deep reflection. Growing up we only exchanged Hanukkah gifts if we couldn’t wait until Christmas to give a specific present to a family member. I attended Hebrew School from first grade until mid-year in 7th grade, at which point I became a Hebrew School drop out before my bat mitzvah. I don’t recall much from Hebrew School other than that one of my classmates’, Rachel’s, mom’s was our 2nd grade teacher and that in 4th grade we did a few big art projects. I wonder if my teacher was an art teacher by day. The strongest feeling I remember though was that I did not belong. I felt stupid and that everyone else, except Jacob, were more Jewish than me. Whatever that meant. I remember once going to Rachel’s house for a Hanukkah party and having fun. During the day at school I was the only Jew, other than Aaron, who did not attend Hebrew School with me, that I was aware of.
My oldest child turns 11 next week and I have worked very hard these past 11 years to create traditions for
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| Ruggelach made last week by ME! |
my family. I do not recall many memories from my childhood, but the ones centering around Hanukkah are fewer than most. A few (or maybe many) Passovers were spent at my aunt’s house with long sedars, always beginning with delicious matzo ball soup.
Ironically, to me, I felt the “most Jewish” when I was in college in Alabama. Life pointed me toward enrolling in Judaism 101 and like Hebrew School many years before I dropped the class. But I did later fulfill my foreign language requirement by enrolling in Hebrew 101 and 102 (or was it 201? - the numbers are irrelevant). My teacher was an Israeli grad student and I enjoyed the class and remember studying hard and feeling successful. I attended services at the Hillel House on several Fridays and felt a sense of belonging that I had never felt at any synagogue I was a member of as a child.
So, here I am tonight making latkes and wondering why I have chosen to give my children a gift a night for Hanukkah. Hanukkah, I keep reading, is the least significant Jewish holiday, yet it’s the only one my children know. Which leaves me thinking, “Am I celebrating the commercial Hanukkah?”
I love that Hanukkah is about the miracle of the oil burning for seven nights longer than expected, but most of all my spirit loves that the underdogs, the Macabees, won the war against the Greeks to continue practicing their religion. America is about freedom, freedom of religion included so I am also left wondering tonight if I am simply American? I have felt a deep connection with my Jewish heritage for many years; but as a culture rather than a religion.
One of our basic needs as humans is the sense of belonging and I guess I continue to search for this, even after I think I have found it externally, I search within.
