Majoring in Aliyah: Hanukka and the 'Sylvester'

Hanukka was in the air. Here in Israel, the bakeries were filled with donuts, the supermarkets strategically placed chocolate coins in every checkout lane, and I heard latkes sizzling in my dorm's kitchen. Bar-Ilan, where I study, stopped classes early every day to let students go home and light the menorah. There were events on campus every night, and when I stayed late at work in the Student Union, the bookkeeper lit candles in his office. It was the Hanukka I always dreamed of; I celebrated with the whole country.

And yet, something was missing.

As I wrote this blog post on December 25, I was filled with Jewish guilt. Less than a month after I wrote about being proud of living a country with holidays and a heritage I feel personally connected to, I find myself debating that exact topic.

Oddly enough, I and many of my fellow student olim found ourselves missing Christmas. I've never celebrated Christmas, per se. I was raised to believe that today is a tragic day for the Jewish people; some people even have a tradition that studying Torah is prohibited on December 25. December, the month when I was constantly surrounded by Christmas lights and carols on the radio, was always the time of year that reminded me that I was in exile from my homeland. When Americans would say that Christmas is a national holiday, and not a religious one, I would think to myself "clearly, this isn't my nation."

Although it never occurred to me that, in my own way, I enjoyed Christmas; I can't deny the truth any longer. Now, before my mother says "what a shonda," let me explain myself. I wasn't exactly building nativity scenes or stuffing stockings. I did, however, go to see the Nutcracker many times. I loved to peer into the decorated shop windows in New York and see the giant tree in Rockefeller center. I can quote entire sections of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and I know Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You" by heart.

At least I never visited Santa. Friends of mine from Belgium, and Holland have told me about "Sinterklaas," who visits Antwerp, Amsterdam and other European capitals. These friends, who are all Orthodox Jews, would go with the rest of the children in town to see Ol' Saint Nick come off his ship with his helpers (who, in Europe, are black servants, not elves). They described this event excitedly and full of nostalgia.

Another issue is New Year's. My family celebrated New Year's annually. In fact, our living room in New Jersey was home to many a December 31 slumber party, where I'd watch the ball drop in Times Square on Nickelodeon or MTV with a bevy of other shrieking girls who were excited to be allowed to stay up until midnight.

In Israel, hardly any religious people celebrate the secular new year. They don't understand how I can party on the day of JC's bris. Until I made aliyah, I had no idea that December 31 is the day Catholics have a feast in honor of St. Sylvester, an anti-Semitic pope who was said to have baptized Constantine [and the reason why Israelis call the New Year celebrations Sylvester]

Living in the gentile world, my fellow student olim and I weren't even aware how prevalent much of a goyishe kop we all had. Surrounded by Christian culture, it was impossible to ignore what goes on at the end of each December.

This brings me back to Hanukka. There's a well-known adage that all Jewish holidays are about one thing: They tried to kill us. They failed. Let's eat! The story of Hanukka isn't just about saving our skin, however. It's about saving our spirit. Not long ago I received a message via facebook inviting me to celebrate "Judaism's defeat of the Hellenistic culture." That is the gist of the Hanukka story. Antiochus didn't command anyone to kill us at first. He simply didn't let us keep the mitzvoth, in an attempt to destroy our culture and insert his own.

Back in the days of Matityahu, many Jews Hellenized by choice, just like many Jews choose to assimilate today. Many others adopted the Hellenistic culture inadvertently, as a result of being law-abiding citizens. Until one day, the Maccabees got fed up with studying Torah in caves and using dreidels as a cover story. They rose up and fought the Greeks, waging a war against assimilation. Let's eat potato latkes!

Today, the Jewish people are as susceptible to Hellenization as ever. Even Israel isn't safe from its influences; the culture gets more Westernized and less Jewish each year. I'm not suggesting that we all shun the outside world, but I know I and many of my friends need to do some soul-searching.