Pray for Palestine
Here, twenty years ago, at the basketball court, is where the Etz Jacob teacher broke the news to me about the boys. It broke my heart Today, I asked the Blessed Mother what I could do for those boys, who are now in their early thirties. Then an idea came to me. This year, I will begin a new trend — Reverse Hanukkah. Instead of lighting the candles, it will be a ceremony of blowing them out — to support the healing process of every victim of abuse. Beyond the dark message of purity, Hanukkah contains another questionable theme: guerilla warfare — a theme invoked by Zionists who used violence in British Palestine, violence against the British and violence against Palestinians - violence that led to the hysteria and Hebron riot of 1929 and it was a sharp downhill for everyone in the region after that. The same theme of violence is being invoked today by those who are using violence to ethnically cleanse the West Bank. However, stories of violence and purity aside, there remains a message of hope within the religious rite of Hanukkah. For one, it cannot have Pharisaic origin. Having studied Pharisee law, I assure you that it’s impossible that they invented the menorah. Their legislation would never allow for a replica of a Temple vessel to be used at home — and even less so to distort the vessel from seven branches to eight. Maimonides discourages the use of a menorah, ostensibly sharing the same suspicion. Symbolically, the menorah in the Temple functioned as a timekeeping device aligned with the seven-day week. An eight-branched menorah, then, represents an entirely new cycle — an eight-day week. If so, it is more likely that the religious rite was invented by early Judeo-Christians, who at one point added an eighth day to the week — The Lord’s Day — creating a two-day weekend. This would explain why Rome was reluctant to adopt Christianity: too much free time. No doubt a compromise was reached at Nicaea in 325 AD. The Christian calendar, which awkwardly dates back to December 25, 1 BC, frames an eight-day period between Christmas and New Year. The eight-day week was canceled, but its echo remains embedded in that hidden octave. That hidden octave may be what was once celebrated as Hanu Chof Hay — the convention of three twenty-five. The menorah, then, speaks of faith in God and of the human need for more free time — for rest, renewal, and worship. The later custom to add a shamash — a ninth branch — inspired my idea for a nine-day week. The word שׁשׁ is “six” — each שׁ has three branches. My six-day workweek—three days at Job A and three days Job B—perfectly mirrors the structure of שש, balancing creation and continuation, rhythm and renewal.
