December: The December Dilemma
Religion. Gaza, Israel.
The December Dilemma
When I was in Kindergarten, the girl next to me, Annette (I will always remember her just for this!) asked me “What’s your religion?”
“What is that? What’s a religion?” I asked.
“Oh. Everybody has one. Like I’m Catholic.”
Annette looked worried because I did not know what I was, so I told her, “I’ll ask my mommy. Maybe we’re Catholic, too.”
“Catholic” sounded magical to me: 3 syllables with that soft ‘th’ in the middle. The word went up and down, I thought. To my 5-year-old ears, that was pretty!
So when my mom told me, “No dear, we’re Jewish.”
I was disappointed.
It did not sound pretty. Just two syllables, with that -ish at the end. Not as pretty.
I’d have to tell Annette, and what would she think of me?
Why were we Jewish? Were there other Jewish people besides us? How did we get Jewish? Could we be Catholic? Would we want to be Catholic? Could we be Catholic and Jewish? Both?
I did not get a satisfying answer to any of those questions.
—We were born Jewish.
—Our whole family is Jewish. Yes, there are other Jewish people in the world.
—No, we don’t want to be Catholic.
From that point on, I wanted to know all that I could learn about being Jewish, Catholic, or whatever. We had a Big Golden Book of stories from the Old Testament. The illustrations were detailed and realistic. Fire, blood, swords, scepters, and men with beards shouting at one another. Like a war movie. Scary.
At the library, I found a Big Golden Book of stories from the New Testament, with brightly colored, almost gothic illustrations. Every page was a stained glass window. Pretty.
Anyway, the thing these books had in common was the stories about God and people. God seemed very strict and even mean to people. He (and God is always a He in these books) tells Abraham to kill his son, Isaac.
In the New Testament, God won’t even save His own son, Jesus, from death.
I was shocked when I saw an illustration of Jesus on the cross. I felt sorry for Jesus because neither his mother nor father were able to help him. That’s sad and scary for any kid to think about.
Shortly after this, Mom brought home a Christmas tree. My brother Paul and I loved the woodsy, piney smell, and the twinkly lights and tinsel. Best of all were the presents under it!
Mom defended her decision to her parents, Jewish immigrants who escaped Russia and the pogroms and were not keen on Christmas. Mom said she “just wanted to be more American.”
They weren’t happy about it, but it was her life and they could understand wanting “to be more American.”
So nu? What’s the dilemma?
I’m Jewish. And I love that I’m Jewish. It’s not just my religious background, it’s my culture.
And this is why I have not weighed in on Palestine vs. Israel this year. I am thinking of the victims of October 7th, the children, from both sides, living and dead, but mostly living who will be either taught to hate or fear a group of people: Israelis or Palestinians, as murderers.
Anger and sorrow for children left without parents, for parents left without their children. Think of that for a while. Let it sink into your heart.
What would you feel if your child was murdered? Horrible anger, wanting to rip whoever did it into shreds. And then you would just be crying and asking, “How could someone do this to my child, our children, young people, old people, anyone?”
Keep using the word “people.” People who have mothers and fathers, people who have children. People who are friends of these people, and so on.
Because when you stop seeing people as people, see them only as organized groups with the bombs and guns they use to mow your loved ones down, to destroy your cities and your sense of safety…
…If there is only anger and fear, it is difficult to understand that the next thing you do in revenge or frustration may just keep the hatred going.
And is that what you want? Ask yourself:
Who benefits? Arms dealers for one. Dictators and fascists for another. I’ll also throw in the word “colonizers,” too. With the full knowledge that I believe Hamas to be as much of a colonizer as the West Bank settlers and the government whose policies support their illegal activities.
But you and I don’t benefit because our loved ones are gone and in less than a generation, it will happen again. And again.
So nu, get to your point!
Hanukkah starts tomorrow at sundown and I’m lighting the menorah that I got from my mom, that my father’s parents gave to them as a wedding present.
In a few days, we’ll drag up from the basement, our Christmas tree, and decorate it. When the presents are all wrapped, we’ll put them under the tree. We have unusually polite cats who don’t seem too interested in the lights or the ornaments.
But because of the cats, we don’t use tinsel!!!!
I’m Jewish and like my mother before me, I also celebrate Christmas. It’s my husband’s tradition as well, and a delight to see our son enjoying all of it.
Still, I feel a little torn. When I light the menorah and chant the blessings, I will be intentionally committing to my Jewish identity. And I’m the only one in the neighborhood, as far as I know. And sometimes I’m lonely being the only Jewish person within a couple of miles.
But I love the light we celebrate at this time, as our days shorten, the nights are colder and the times we live in seem so dark.
May your holidays be filled with love, joy, and hope. Happy Chanukah and Merry Yule and Christmas! May you enjoy a Kwanzaa of meaning, community, and goodwill!
May peace be upon us all, all over the world.
.
One more thing…
Now, here’s a holiday promise to you: If you like snail mail, reply to this email with your name and address and your birthday — you don’t have to bother with the year. And I will send you a birthday card when your birthday rolls around.
And whether you like or want this offer, please subscribe!
A good perspective, very well expressed.
Thank you for taking time to write and share this Eri.