In other words, Hanukkah is really a chapter in the painful tale resulting in the destruction of ancient Judea and our Second Temple – a brief bright note in a sad symphony. It commemorates an independent state that ultimately failed. Buried under Hanukkah candle lighting ceremonies, the parties and the stories of bravery is a stern warning for those of us who live in the new independent state.
Having said all this about Hanukkah, I don’t want anyone to think that we don’t have our own equivalent of the Christmas spirit, a time when people are of good cheer and wish each other peace as a matter of course. Markets are filled with shoppers who rush with their shopping to meet a deadline. Buses are crowded with people carrying heavy packages and flowers home, sometimes even gifts. In restaurants, friends slap each other on the back, and smile as they have animated conversations with each other. The bus stations are crowded with people taking trips, and with soldiers going home.
And we have this equivalent of the Christmas spirit 52 times a year, every single Friday and Saturday. It’s called the Sabbath.
Happy Hanukkah!
ed/pub:ak
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