Retaking the Gift of Shabbat

Parshat VAYAKHEL

by Rabbi Avi Billet

When we read the parshas surrounding the building of the Mishkan, we are reminded of the fealty we, the Jewish people, are to have to Shabbat. The laws of Shabbat are derived from the proximity of the actual construction of the vessels and structures of the Mishkan to a reminder about Shabbat – both of which appear in Shmot chapter 35. Shabbat was also mentioned in last week’s Torah portion at the conclusion of the initial instructions for the Mishkan, in the “V’shamru” passage which is most famous because it is part of our liturgy as well (31:13-17)

 It’s not only that Shabbat is a day the descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are meant to rest to imitate God who “rested” on the seventh day after Creating. Shabbat is considered in the Talmud to be a gift that God gave to the Jewish people (Talmud Shabbat 10b). One who keeps or observes the Shabbat is considered to be attesting to God’s role in the creation of the world.

 Hillel Halkin, a secular Jewish writer who lives in Israel, wrote an article several years ago entitled, “You don't have to be Orthodox to cherish the Sabbath,” which can be easily found through a Google search. The title almost says it all, though Halkin does a good job of explaining why he, as a secular Jew, cherishes the Shabbat and wishes (at least when he wrote the article) that other Jews could appreciate Shabbat more.

 Former Senator Joseph Lieberman also wrote a book to this effect, offering Shabbat as a needed respite for all of humanity.

 The Chofetz Chaim, whose rare image was recently uncovered in an old film reel from the 1920s, would describe the Talmudic sentiment of the gift given to the Jewish people like a groom giving his bride a present. If the bride returns the gift, it is a good indication that she does not want the groom and the match is as good as over.

 His message was the same about Shabbat. If the Jewish people do not keep the Shabbat properly, they are essentially returning the gift to God, indicating they have no interest in the bond that unites the Jews to God.

 It is a sad state of affairs for the Jewish people when the attitude to Shabbat outside of the religious Jewish community (however people define “religious”) is the way it is today. Halkin, for example, at least respects the Shabbat, even if he does not observe.

 Some statistics from national polls of the last few years bear out the dire circumstances we face in terms of appreciation of this gift. A December 2012 Gallup poll said 41% of Jews say religion is important to them, while 65% said they attend religious services seldom or never. 22% of Jews have no religion at all. According to the Pew poll of 2013, 28% of Jews don’t believe in God, while 73% think being Jewish means remembering the Holocaust. 

Those of us who love the Torah and cherish the Shabbat have a very big job ahead of us. So many Jews identify as Jewish for cultural reasons and on account of the ancestral heritage, without knowledge of a Torah, mitzvot, or any of the wisdom contained therein. Show an ignorant-of-Judaism Jew a Jewish library or Beit Midrash, and the eyes open up and the jaw drops at how much specifically Jewish knowledge and scholarship is out there. Sure they know that many Jews of the past were smart people. But the breadth of knowledge of rabbinic sages is what they hear about, if at all, from PJ library story books, which do not exactly come from a wellspring of Jewish tradition that goes back centuries or millennia. We have so much to offer, but despite all the efforts that are being made by those who reach out to lost or searching Jews, there is still a very long way to go in bringing Shabbat to the masses in a palatable way.

 We need the connection with God more than ever. We have to earn back His trust through our retaking His gift of Shabbat.

Gather Wood and Die?

Regarding the Identity of Tzlafchad see here (or listen here!). And regarding the Death Penalty For Shabbos Violations see here

Parshat Shlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 To the best of my counting (and happy to hear a correction!), the Torah mentions the concept of Shabbos once in Bereishis, six times in Shmos, four times in Vayikra, twice in Bamidbar (including our parsha) and only once in Devarim.

 Add to this at least 16 times it is referenced in the remaining 19 books of the Bible, and we have a significant day in the Jewish calendar.

 The story of the woodgatherer (m'koshesh eitzim) in 15:32-36, however, is one of the more disturbing references to the holy day in the Torah. And while it is Shmot 31:14 that is the pretext for the result meted out to the woodgatherer, it is nonetheless troubling to see someone put to death for "violating the Sabbath."

 The Talmud (Bava Batra 119a-b) suggests - somewhat approvingly - the violator did so on purpose to teach a lesson to the people.

 I have always found this Talmudic passage to be troubling. Since when is a person given approval for violating a capital offense in order to teach a lesson? The active principle in the Torah is that when a person is guilty of violating a capital crime, the punishment will be so public that "All of Israel will hear and fear [the punishment] and they will not continue to do such a heinous crime." (see Devarim 13:12, 21:21) There is no justification granted to those who purposely sin for the benefit of the masses! Their sins are not whitewashed in the Torah, and yet the Talmud does give the woodgathering sinner an air of justification.

 It happens that even this principle (capital punishment as a deterrent) is hard to fathom in the two cases in Devarim – the former being an individual who tries to get others to leave the fold and worship idolatry, while the latter is the case of the wayward son who has become a glutton and violates the fifth of the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Statements) through disrespecting his parents. For a different discussion. 

How do we reconcile a person doing a simple act of carrying wood on Shabbos and receiving the death penalty as a result?

 We can't. And this is why the Meshekh Chokhmah notes that "from the time the woodgatherer was stoned – though he had intended his act for the sake of heaven, to publicize the punishment so people would not take the prohibitions of Shabbos lightly – it had such an emotional impact on the people (note he uses the word הרגש - which can either mean as I've translated it, or that they were terrified about violating the shabbos.) that while they were in the mountains of Moav and going through the motions of the book of Devarim (and the review of many laws that it includes), Shabbos is not mentioned. The manna's regular cycle (double portion on Friday) was the eternal reminder of the existence of Shabbos. This is why it is otherwise only mentioned in the retelling of the Ten Statements, which is a reminder to people to keep the Shabbos [but says nothing about those who violate it]."

There is no other evidence (that I'm aware of) that the death penalty was invoked for a violation of Shabbos. [Note from January 2014: See the Midrash in the comments that suggests one of the reasons Achan was killed (in Yehoshua 6-7) was because of Chillul Shabbat]

According to the reading of the Meshekh Chokhmah that the people were emotionally impacted, one might be able to argue that the people were not interested in hearing about the death penalty for Shabbos violations. According to the other way of reading it, it was unnecessary to raise the discussion because the matter was closed. Everyone got the point and the message about not violating the Shabbos.

Maybe the book of Devarim avoids the topic because the repercussions for its violation are so emotionally wrenching.

 But what is the crime?

 The mitzvah to keep Shabbos is so essential to who we are as a people on account of its prominence in testifying to God's creating the world.*

 It is also how we attest to God's role in taking us out of Egypt, and creating the nation of Israel that was finalized with the giving of the Torah - which includes the mitzvah of Shabbos so prominently displayed on the first of the Two Tablets.

 The wood gatherer displayed his utter disregard for all of this. Perhaps in the aftermath of the spies incident he felt that God had forsaken the Jewish people. Maybe he felt that there was no hope for the future - he, along with his generation were fated to die in the desert. Maybe he lost heart. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he felt there was nothing to live for anyway.

 that is a fatalist attitude. We have been waiting for the Messiah to come for a long time. We wait for peace in Israel, even though despite the good intentions of politicians, it will continue to elude the region with the "peace partners" that are anything but sincere.

 Do we give up? No. We forge on. With our faith intact. We do not abandon God and suggest He no longer exists because we are angry with Him. We maintain an ever present hope for the future. 

Abandoning God and the Torah is for people who, like the wood gatherer, don't see the point in it all. A person can believe in God and not observe the Sabbath. But ignoring the rules of resting on the Sabbath is an indicator that God's role in creating the world and resting on the seventh day is irrelevant to the Holy Day.

 While there is thankfully no death penalty for those who violate Shabbos, we pray that Jews across the world will revisit Shabbos, tap into its beauty, and help bring the day the Messiah can come. (Talmud Shabbos 118b)

*

מדרש אגדה (בובר) במדבר פרשת שלח פרק טו סימן לד 

ולמה נסמכה פרשת חילול שבת אצל ע"ז, ללמדך כשם שהמודה בע"ז ככופר בכל התורה, כך כל המחלל שבת ככופר בכל התורה כולה וכן שקולה שבת ככל המצות, שנאמר ועל הר סיני ירדת (ודברת) [ודבר] עמהם [משמים וגו' ואת שבת קדשך הודעת להם] (נחמיה ט' י"ד) 

******************
ps. Check out Rabbi Shimon's response to Rabbi Eliezer!!

ספרי זוטא פרק טו פסוק לב

(לב). ויהיו בני ישראל במדבר, אמר ר' אליעזר בן יעקב נאמר כאן ויהיו בני ישראל במדבר ונאמר להלן אבינו מת במדבר (שם /במדבר/ כז ג) מה מדבר שנא' להלן צלפחד אף מדבר האמור כאן צלפחד. - אמר לו ר' שמעון אי אפשר לומר מקושש היה צלפחד מפני שהיה מקושש בשנה ראשונה בעשרים ואחד לחדש השני וכי אפשר שיהיו בנות צלפחד בנות מלכים נאות וכשרות הקטנה שבהן היתה יושבת ארבעים שנה עד שלא נשאת וכי באיזו שעה מת צלפחד בשעה שנ' וישמע הכנעני מלך ערד (שם /במדבר/ לג מ) באותה שעה מת צלפחד: וימצאו איש, איש אחד היה: 

מדרש אגדה (בובר) במדבר פרשת שלח פרק טו סימן לד

ולמה נסמכה פרשת חילול שבת אצל ע"ז, ללמדך כשם שהמודה בע"ז ככופר בכל התורה, כך כל המחלל שבת ככופר בכל התורה כולה וכן שקולה שבת ככל המצות, שנאמר ועל הר סיני ירדת (ודברת) [ודבר] עמהם [משמים וגו' ואת שבת קדשך הודעת להם] (נחמיה ט' י"ד). 

Going to Shul Weekdays and Shabbos

Shul Attendance (For Men and Women) Is All About Training

by AVI BILLET

I have seen a theme in the blogosphere over the last few days: the following blog posts are presented in (what I think is) their chronological order – all addressing "Why Women Don't Go To Shul." Some of these are a "view from Israel," while some were penned in the United States.

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/not-exactly-a-seat-of-honor/

http://choppingwood.blogspot.co.il/2013/04/the-embarrasment-that-is-womens-section.html

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/scroll-up/

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/why-women-dont-go-to-shul/

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/dont-blame-women-for-not-going-to-shul/

Rabbi Fink (last of the five) compared what he believes to be the reasons men go to shul with reasons why women might as well – and he clarified for me on Facebook that he is mostly speaking about on Shabbos. It is certainly true that some people go out of a sense of obligation, and some go for social reasons – seeing friends, schmoozing, drinking, the Kiddush, etc.

In this contribution to the subject (which alludes to points made in all of the posts linked above), our focus will distinguish between weekdays and Shabbos in hopes of finding an answer to the conundrum.

Weekdays

            

Weekday attendance boils down to one's training and one's M.O. as an adult. Men may "know" they have an obligation to pray three times a day, but it is only those that I classify as "shul guys" who actually make the regular effort. Conflicts come up (timing, work, kids, business-travel, etc), a person can't always make it. But the shul-guy's heart is in shul. And he is there often.

            

I would bet that those who are shul-guys have been going to shul since they were children, davening in a minyan in school, and dragged or brought to mincha-maariv regularly. And when they were off from school, their parents had them go to shul as well. Not just on Shabbos and Yom Tov, but Chol Hamoed, Sundays, legal holidays and winter and summer vacations. If their families went on trips – skiing, Disney, etc., they made an effort to either create or find a minyan.

            

The fact remains that though shuls are quite active in the morning and evening hours of every weekday, the primary attendees are men. Every now and then a young woman, recently back from Israel perhaps, will appear in shul. Sometimes a woman saying kaddish for a yarzeit will make an appearance, or a woman saying kaddish for her parent might be a regular attendee. But these are uncommon.

            

More often the women's section, during the week, is either empty or occupied by (male) latecomers or Yeshiva guys. [This is very wrong behavior because it further makes women feel unwelcome. Shuls that are aware of this put up signs saying "Please reserve the women's section for women."]

            

That women don't show up is partially because of the excuses – and they are all legitimate: women do not have the "obligation," those who are mothers have other responsibilities, and there is not really a social element to the weekday davening.* This does not explain why women who are looking to have a minyan experience, who are not mothers of young children and do not have other responsibilities do not come to shul. There isn't a "welcoming" atmosphere to anyone on the weekday because of the fast pace of a workday: those who come during the week are usually interested in davening, yes, but in getting through it as expeditiously as possible – no wasting time, do your business, and move on with your day.

Shabbos

There are two kinds of shuls: the kind in which women feel comfortable, and the kind in which they do not. Certainly some shuls make a bigger deal out of the women's section and put more efforts into making it a respectable space for tefillah. And some completely neglect the space.

To be honest, I hear both sides. A majority of the women I see coming to shul come for the final hour of the Shabbos morning davening. For those who come from the beginning, they certainly deserve a welcoming space. But for those who only come for the 1 hour per week, I completely understand why a shul would not budget for the space (though this is likely more of an issue in Israel than in the US where shuls do take the women's section into consideration, particularly when constructing a new facility).

There are also many reasons women would not come to shul. Some are communal (shul doesn't care, I don't like the shul atmosphere, women are left out of the service, I don't like the way they have the mechitza, etc); some are openly personal (no child care, too much talking, too much shushing, etc); some are intimately personal (a widow or divorcee feels out of place or lonely, anger with God, someone said something once, etc.); to some women, davening may be a meaningless gesture, or something they prefer to do at home. Where any shul can address the issue, the shul should do its best to correct the problem. Unfortunately, blaming a shul for any individual's private and very personal problems with the shul enters into the realm of "unfair."

In the shuls I have worked and prayed, women come on Shabbos morning. Some to pray, some to talk. Some come early and daven. Some come a little later and daven. Some come late and listen to the sermon or talk during davening or in the hallway. I find a special irony in cases where women wish to kiss the Torah and then talk during the Torah reading (men too, by the way). Not that all do this, but it becomes a question of what are our priorities – an external gesture which turns out to be meaningless (if one talks during the reading), or an internalization of the Torah words which are publicly read? Seems to me the latter should be the priority.

The excuse that women do not have a participatory role in shul is, in my opinion, just an excuse. In a shul that has 100 men and 100 women, about 14 men have a role. Let's assume for a moment that the rabbi doesn't count. 2 Gabbaim, 3 baalei tefillah (unless there is a cantor), 1 Torah reader and 8 aliyahs. 86% of the men have the same role as the women, and yet they come all the same. Their role is to worry about their own tefillah, participate in whatever singing and communal responses, and make their best effort to get close to God.

I know a number of women who are "shul-women" and "tefillah-women." They view both experiences as very important in their lives, they daven every day, and they go to shul on Shabbos where they are content with their role as an actively participating member of the tzibbur – who answers to brachot, kaddish, kedusha, and joins in communal singing. They never need to play the speaking role of chazzan or person getting an aliyah (which many men shy away from as well) and can go about their business without anyone being the wiser – because davening is not about a show. It is about a personal experience.

They probably did not have the same training as the "shul-guys" (bottom line: attendance in shul is largely related to one's having been trained to be a shul person), and they more likely came to their shul-person status through either positive Shabbos experiences growing up, or on account of their own religious and soul-searching in formative years.

When people make shul about everything else (can I lead Kabbalat Shabbat, will I get to carry the Torah, or kiss the Torah, does the shul even make an effort to make me feel comfortable, whether it provides childcare, a hashkamah minyan for one spouse so the other can go later), they have many causes to complain about the roles they do not have, and how annoying shul is. 

But when people understand what the purpose of the shul experience is supposed to be it can be rewarding no matter the circumstances, if the attitude a person brings to shul is one that says, "I am here to have the experience I am looking for. It is up to me to create it."

After all - אמ אין אני לי מי לי

* There is no "social element" to any davening. You are either speaking to God, you are silent, or you are speaking to a person. When conversing with a person, you are not davening.

Taking Yosef's Bones

Parshat B'Shalach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In this most dramatic of Torah portions, the opening pesukim (verses) read like storyboards of a film's opening sequence of images around the locale where it is set. The people turn from going straight along the Mediterranean coast towards the Red Sea. Moshe is arranging the transfer of Yosef's bones. They travel from Sukkos (first stop 12:37). We then see the people - during the day - being led by the Pillar of Clouds. In the dark of night, the Pillar of Fire provides the necessary light and protection.

The scene then switches to the back and forth scenes of Paroh in his court, back to the people at the Sea, to Paroh and his army approaching, to the people at the Sea.

            

The one image that seems out of place is Moshe taking (and therefore arranging for transfer of) the bones of Yosef. While the promise being fulfilled was not insignificant, it did get its press time at the end of Parshat Vaychi. Why does it need an entire verse here? Couldn't it just be in add-on to the previous verse – "They traveled around the wilderness towards the sea, they carried weapons with them, and they also brought Yosef's bones"?

To say that there is great depth to the carrying out of this task is to state the obvious. What the message might be ranges from the obvious to the creative, with the profound lying somewhere in between.

            

On the obvious level, a very old promise is being fulfilled.

            

The profound could echo the words of Rabbi Akiva when he told his colleagues at the end of Mesechet Makkot, "Now that I have seen the prophesy of Uriah be fulfilled, I know the prophesy of Zechariah will be fulfilled as well." If we see that Yosef's promise has been fulfilled, perhaps we can be assured that Zechariah's promise will be fulfilled as well, with the coming of the Ultimate Redemption.

            

Which leaves us with the creative.

            

Many Midrashim depict Moshe's seeking Yosef's bones in an admirable fashion as he did it at the same time the Israelites were draining Egyptof its wealth (see also here regarding taking the clothes). The verse in Mishlei (10:8), "The wise-hearted (man) accepts commandments" – or fulfills opportune mitzvot when they come along – is utilized to give Moshe the greatest amount of credit for pursuing the opportunity to fulfill the promise on behalf of those he represented, as they were pursuing the wealth they were to take with them out of Egypt.

            

Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch put it this way: "A person who dedicates himself to fulfill commandments, or to delve in Torah, will be rewarded ('skhar mitzvah') according to what is either lost or missed out in profits." This teaching is based in the Zohar on Parshat Terumah who emphasizes the greatness of a mitzvah that is fulfilled through one's money – either through a donation or through using one's time otherwise to do a mitzvah, that may prevent a financial gain from taking place.

            

Moshe's choice to find Yosef's bones specifically at the time when all the Israelites were engaged in material pursuits gave a strong indicator of his priorities, how mitzvah and fulfilling a promise were more important to him than gold and silver.

            

A few reminders are in order: 

Maybe we don't need to go back for a second and third helping at a Kiddush or smorgasbord. Not only to give others a chance to eat, but also to indicate that our focus is not solely on food.

            

When we go to shul, we are engaged in mitzvah. When we talk in shul or leave shul on shabbos to drink(in the middle of davening), we are like the Israelites pursuing gold and silver while those who are properly engaged in the services are like Moshe seeking Yosef's bones.

            

When we bring irreverence to an activity others respect, we are the Israelites to their Moshe.

            

When we don't respect and promote what Shabbos should and could be – a time of being in touch with the soul, the spirit and God – and instead ignore our children, engage in superficial, vacuous and sophomoric conversations, we are the Israelites pursuing what we think is gold and silver, while those who discuss the parsha, explore their commitment to halakha, and engage their children in conversation are those who are seeking Yosef's bones.

            

Moshe seeking Yosef's bones therefore becomes a metaphor for what a deep commitment to the past is, what a promise for the future can mean, and what it means to model dedication to a meaningful task.

            

The commitment to bringing Yosef's bones to their final resting place is the greatest lesson Moshe could teach the people in the hour they felt richest and greatest (see a related idea here). Commitment to our faith and our people makes for a much richer life than all the fleeting pursuits of gold and silver we can ever undertake in our lives.

Priorities: what life is all about.            

Too Strict About Shabbos?

Ki Seesaw

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Jewish movements that changed the face of Jewry in the 19th and 20th centuries raised serious concerns about the nature of the Torah and how it stands the test of time. Many of the mitzvot of the Torah, for example, are not applicable in our day and age – highlighted by the lack of a Temple in Jerusalem.

Some mitzvot are simply not observed – the mitzvah of the eved ivri (Jewish indentured servant), amah ivriya (Jewess maidservant), yibum (levirate marriage), for example – because our society has evolved in such a way that these are quite strange.

We also have a difficult time swallowing the nature of the mitzvah to wipe out Amalek. While there are enemies of the Jewish people who exhibit Amalek-like qualities, this does not make them Amalekites. As such, I, for one, am glad that we cannot identify true Amalekites and are not subject to the mitzvah of destroying them.

There is a passage in Ki Tisa which is difficult to explain to the modern Jew, and to a world that shies away from the notion that we have the right to administer a capital punishment. To be sure, the Torah makes capital punishment very difficult to administer. The Torah also did not create a prison system. Punishment was carried out immediately, to serve as a deterrent, and was practiced at minimum expense, quickly, with no attention paid to a concern of "causing undue pain and suffering." It was done as humanely as possible – very forward thinking for its time

While capital punishment is much easier to understand when someone has committed murder, how do we understand it in the context of – "Six days you shall work, the seventh day is the Sabbath – it is holy to God. Whoever does 'melakha' on this day will be put to death" (Shmot 31:15)?

The Torah even describes a case when an individual who gathered wood on the Sabbath was put to death. (Bamidbar 15:32-36)

Of course, this is not something we pay any attention to now – in the sense that we would never ever put someone who does "melakha" on the Sabbath to death. We might, however, explain – as we do for all laws in the Torah that carry a death punishment in their depiction (i.e. hitting or cursing one's parents (see Shmot 21:15,17)), that these are very serious offenses, not to be taken lightly.

Beyond that, however, I think it is important to understand two points: where the Torah is coming from in advancing this rule, and why it is not our place to judge the Torah.

I would suggest that the Sabbath, being one of the "Ten Commandments" and being the model of God's rest from the work of Creation, is our best example of how we can imitate our Father in Heaven. He created for six days, and rested on the seventh. In this sense, neglecting the Sabbath serves as a denial of His role in creating the universe. A Jewish person who snubs God's existence in this way is like a person who smugly rebels against a king in his own court, at the king's celebration of his kingdom. [I understand people do not feel this way – but this is a very simple argument of where the Torah may be coming from.]

I don't feel we can judge the Torah as being immoral for suggesting a capital punishment for this offense, because morality is defined differently in every generation. This point was articulated brilliantly by Rabbi Norman Lamm in a sermon he delivered on March 21, 1970, entitled "In Defense of Samuel."

Addressing Shmuel the Prophet's right to kill Agag, king of Amalek in Samuel I 15:33, Rabbi Lamm suggested there are absolute moral principles, but there are also "moral insights that develop slowly in the history of the human family as a result of various individual insights, until by consensus…they are recognized as binding moral judgments."

In his homiletical elaboration, he raises historical developments of the practices of polygamy and slavery of old, as well as the draft board (this was during the Vietnam War) and the penal system of our society today, the former two having been defined in more modern times as being morally reprehensible, and the latter two are subject to scrutiny in our evolving society. Are we to therefore judge great otherwise moral people of ages past for having practiced these activities in a time and place when our contemporary moral sensitivity did not yet exist, and when the common consensus was that these activities were moral?

"Quite possibly, flogging a man once and for all and letting him free thereafter is more humane than taking 15 of the best years of his life and throwing him into jail with other criminals, there only to compound his injury by making it permanent."

I do a lot of work, and participate in many education opportunities that cater to non-observant Jews. Many people simply do not have the education, the ability, the know-how, or the wherewithal to change old habits, or to commit to the Sabbath the way many of us are committed.

This does not take away from their commitment to being Jewish, or their desire to represent the Jewish people and to take the proverbial bullet for our People.

I hope that all Jews can engage themselves in a step by step process – even if it is a many-years-long process – to reconnect with the Sabbath. Start with Friday night, turn off the phone and computer, light the candles, enjoy a meal and relax. You may extend your "vacation" into Saturday over time, and I am sure your life will be enriched from it.

Enjoy the Sabbath. Enjoy a taste of the World to Come.

Another Reason For 8 Days of Chanukah?

For an expanded version on this subject, built on the idea of the following, see here

One of the questions that comes up each year is "If there was enough oil to last 1 day, and it lasted 8 days, the miracle was really for 7 days. The first day was not a miracle. So why do we have EIGHT DAYS of Chanukah?"
There are many answers to this question. Most of the answers aim to answer the related question of "How do we view the first day as a miracle as well?" Answers to a different related question would also suffice: "Is there a significance to the number eight that fits into this story?"

Two of the more known answers to the latter question are:
1. The rededication of the Temple was meant to emulate the original dedication of the Tabernacle in the wilderness, which was an Eight-Day-Celebration.
2. On account of the war, the Maccabees were unable to adequately celebrate the holiday of Sukkot. As such, upon the rededication of the Temple, they created a make-up for the holiday they missed. Since Biblically speaking the holiday of Sukkot + Shmini Atzeret is an eight-day period, this served as the model for the Chanukah time span.

Here I offer another possibility. I do not base this in any historical document or anything I found. But a unique connection came to me as I reviewed the decrees that traditionally accepted view of history offers as the background to the rebellion of the few against the many.

The Greeks aimed to destroy three fundamental tenets of Jewish life:
1. Shabbos
2. Rosh Chodesh
3. Bris Milah

Being a mohel, this simple (yet, I feel, profound) connection was staring me straight in the face.

There are all kinds of reasons suggested for why a bris takes place on the eighth day of life. One of them focuses on the idea that the baby will certainly experience a shabbos before he has his bris.

Chanukah goes for eight days, therefore, to remind us the eight-day period that leads up to a bris.
An Eight-day holiday will certainly contain a shabbos.
The fact that Chanukah begins towards the end of Kislev, on the 25th of the month, assures that Rosh Chodesh Tevet will always be observed during Chanukah.

Military celebrations alone are typically celebrated for one day. Think V-E Day (May 8) V-J Day (Sept 2), Purim (14 Adar). By all rights, Chanukah should have been a 1-day holiday.

But Chanukah is meant to be more than just a tribute to a specific date. It is a highly symbolic holiday that represents a victory over assimilation, a commitment to Jewish tradition, mitzvot, and heritage, a reemergence of a "fighting Jew," and the return of Jewish autonomy to our ancient homeland.

And if, in the background, the dates and length of the celebration can serve as a reminder to what we overcame from the perspective of those who made decrees threatening our way of life - what could be wrong with it? It gives us a constant reminder of the test that challenged our people, and the lifestyle the victorious Maccabess sought to preserve.

Washing Before or After Kiddush?

After I published this to the web, I found a more elaborate (and scholarly) discussion of the topic on hirhurim.blogspot.com - similar conclusions, though the directions bringing us there are very different.


Having eaten at the homes of a number of "Yekkes" on shabbos, my wife and I have always admired the German custom to wash before the Kiddush, to allow for Kiddush to flow straight into the Hamotzi and the eating of bread. "Typical yekkes, find a way to be efficient in these meals by cutting corners." It's true. How many people finally figure out where everyone is going to sit, only to have everyone get up again to wash for the bread? A little bit of frustration is easily removed through there being only one "general seating."

I hadn't looked up the law in a while, so I opened up the Shulchan Arukh to find this [I left the notes that link to the comments I record below in bold, underlined]:

שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות שבת סימן רעא

סעיף יב

(נח) אחר שקידש על כוס, נוטל ידיו ומברך ענט"י ואם נטל ידיו קודם קידוש גלי דעתיה דריפתא חביבא ליה, לא יקדש על  היין אלא על הפת.

הגה: (סא) כז וי"א דלכתחלה יש ליטול ידיו קודם הקידוש ולקדש על היין (הרא"ש ומרדכי פרק ע"פ (ורשב"א) והגה"מ פכ"ט, והטור). וכן המנהג פשוט במדינות אלו (סב) ואין לשנות רק בליל פסח, כמו שיתבאר סי' תע"ג.

The Mechaber (Rabbi Yosef Karo) writes: (58) After one has said the Kiddush over [the wine], one washes the hands and recites the blessing over the washing of the hands. If he washes his hands before the Kiddush, he is giving a clear indication that he prefers bread over wine, and he should make the Kiddush over the bread instead of over the wine
Rama: (61) 27 There are those that say that in the first place (l'khatchila) one should wash the hands before Kiddush, then make the Kiddush on the wine [presumably followed by the blessing on the bread]. And this is the obvious custom in these lands, (62) and one should not change except on the eve of Passover [at the seder, when we say the Kiddush first and wash for the matzah considerably later].

מגן אברהם סימן רעא ס"ק כז

כז וי"א דלכתחל' וכו' – דס"ל דאין הקידוש מקרי הפסק כיון דצורך סעודה היא ולכ"ע אסור למזוג הכוס בחמין כמ"ש סי' קס"ו ולמ"ד שם דאסור להפסי' אפי' לשפוך מהקנקן לכוס אסור אחר נטילה:

Magen Avraham 27 According to the Rama, the Kiddush is not considered an interruption (in one's concentration connecting the washing of hands to eating bread) because it is all part of the meal. The wine should be poured before people wash.

משנה ברורה סימן רעא ס"ק נח

(נח) אחר שקידש וכו' - ולא קודם [נח] כדי שלא יפסיק בהקידוש בין נט"י להמוציא [נט] אבל בני ביתו שאינם מקדשין בעצמן אלא יוצאין בשמיעתן מבעה"ב יוכלו ליטול ידיהם קודם:

Mishneh Brurah 58 Should wash after Kiddush – and not before [Kiddush] in order for the Kiddush not to be an interruption between the washing and the hamotzi blessing. But the members of his household, who do not recite Kiddush by themselves and fulfill their obligation through his recitation, they can wash their hands before the Kiddush.

(סא) וי"א דלכתחלה וכו' - דס"ל דאין הקידוש מקרי הפסק כיון שהוא צורך סעודה ולכך יקדש על היין וישתה הכוס ואח"כ יברך המוציא ויבצע הפת וכיון דאינו הפסק ס"ל לרמ"א דטוב לנהוג כן לכתחלה משום דכשאין לו יין ומקדש על הפת בע"כ צריך ליטול ידיו קודם הקידוש [סא] וע"כ טוב לנהוג כן תמיד באופן אחד. ולמזוג את הכוס בחמין אחר הנטילה קודם המוציא ודאי אין לעשות כן לכו"ע כיון דצריך לדקדק יפה שימזוג כדרכו שלא יחסר ושלא יותיר הוי היסח הדעת:

Mishneh Brurah 61 There are those that say that in the first place (l'khatchila) one should wash the hands before Kiddush – because in their opinion, Kiddush is not considered an "interruption" because it is part of the meal. Therefore [one will have washed, then] make Kiddush over the wine, then say the blessing on the bread, and break the bread. And since this is not considered an interruption, it is the opinion of the Rama that this a good practice l'khatchila. For when he does not have wine and he is saying Kiddush on bread, he also has to wash before saying the Kiddush. And it is therefore good to be consistent in one's practice [– ie to always wash before saying the Kiddush]. But pouring hot drinks before Hamotzi should not be done, because checking if you've done it properly and poured the right amount is definitely an interruption.

(סב) ואין לשנות - [סב] וכמה אחרונים כתבו דטפי עדיף לכתחלה לקדש על היין קודם נט"י וכדעת המחבר דבזה יוצא מדינא לכל הדעות ובכמה מקומות נהגו כדבריהם [סג] מיהו אם כבר נטל ידיו קודם קידוש בזה יש לעשות כהרמ"א דאעפ"כ יקדש על יין:

Mishneh Brurah 62 One should not change from this custom [of washing before the Kiddush] – Many Acharonim have written that it is preferred to say Kiddush on the wine before the washing of the hands, following the M'chaber's opinion, because through this one fulfills one's obligation according to all opinions. In some places they followed such an approach. However, if one washed the hands before Kiddush, one should certainly follow the Rama and make the Kiddush over wine [followed by the blessing on the bread].

Summary
Following the snippets as provided, there are 2 ways to go about having the recitation of Kiddush flow straight into Hamotzi.
1. Everyone except the person reciting Kiddush and Hamotzi washes and sits down. Then, after he says Kiddush, he quickly washes – waiting for one person is not considered a 'hefsek'/interruption.
2. Everyone washes first (including the one saying the blessings), and the Kiddush is not considered a hefsek because it is part of the meal.

I like the argument that since Kiddush over bread would also require a washing before Kiddush (in the uncommon circumstance that a person has no wine or grape juice, this is standard procedure), one ought to be consistent and always wash first.

At the same time, there is certainly much to say for the argument that "Kiddush gets its own time" and that "washing and Hamotzi get their own time." In other words, say the Kiddush, then wash – as is the practice in most homes that I have visited – followed by Hamotzi.

Can we change our minhag? Without insulting our parents? I think the answer is YES, as long as we become consistent about it.