Vayeshev 5784: Beautiful, Beautiful

This is a story about this menorah, a Chanukiah, purchased as a gift for my parents by their landlords when we lived in Evanston on Ridge in the apartment. This couple, born in India, had made it in America. They were now homeowners and landlords and wanted to make sure our family could celebrate Chanukah. This was circa 1966. It is beautiful and I still love it. Project Menorah is like that today. https://www.projectmenorah.com/ Designed to encourage non-Jews to celebrate Chanukah, or at least put a menorah in the window so that Jews feel safe celebrating Chanukah. It is similar to the book I often teach, the Christmas Menorahs.  

Look around you. You will see many menorahs. The kids counted last week and I think we were at 30. I’ve added another 11 as I’ve decorated so that brings us to 41. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. That’s why there are so many different styles. What is beautiful to me may not be to you and visa versa. We have a term in Hebrew for this, hiddur hamtizvah. The beautification of the commandment.  

The pictures we have seen of chanukiot–at your homes, in public spaces, around the globe have been heartwarming. And beautiful. Keep them coming.

Today’s haftarah has a vision, a dream of what the original menorah might have looked like in the Holy Temple. The menorah with 7 branches. The one that this holiday of Chanukah is all about. After the description of the menorah comes the interpretation of that dream and the story ends with the phrase, “Hain, Hain. And it shall be called ‘Beautiful, Beautiful.’”  Hain is an interesting word. Translated here as beautiful, it is from the same root as one of the 13 Attributes of the Divine. El rachum v’CHANUN. The Lord, compassionate and gracious.” In the Woman of Valor prayer, Eishet Chayil, it is translated as charm or grace.  

At Chanukah, we are often surrounded by memories and traditions with a healthy dose of nostalgia. Those latkes? Old family recipe. The menorah? One passed down through the generations? That song? One you sang years ago. It is all evocative.  

This tallit? It is my Women of the Wall tallit. Women of the Wall was founded Rosh Hodesh Chanukah 1988, the same year Simon and I were married. I had friends who were at the original service at the Wall. For our 25th anniversary we bought each other these tallitot. Because we support the rights of women to daven at the Wall. To have their voices heard. The prohibition of that in modern Israeli society and even sometimes even right here in Elgin, is often traced to today’s Torah portion.  

Close every door to me,
Hide all the world from me
Bar all the windows
And shut out the light 

Do what you want with me,
Hate me and laugh at me
Darken my daytime
And torture my night 

If my life were important I
Would ask will I live or die
But I know the answers lie
Far from this world 

Close every door to me,
Keep those I love from me
Children of Israel
Are never alone 

For I know I shall find
My own peace of mind
For I have been promised
A land of my own 

I grew up singing this song in Grand Rapids. No I wasn’t Joseph, I was just a kid in the chorus at Temple Emanuel; but I found the melody and the words haunting so I would dance around the living room singing it. The words and the melody are still haunting and relevant to today’s portion.  

Today’s portion is considered by some another Text of Terror. Last week we learned about Dinah. Why was that text even there? The question remains.  Today, we learn about Tamar in our triennial cycle and then about Joseph in Potiphar’s house in the full cycle. In both texts there is some perceived crime committed of a sexual nature that first Tamar and then Joseph are punished for. In both cases, there is some trickery going on. First the seemingly lovely Tamar becomes a zonah, a lady of the evening, a prostitute, a whore, a sex worker.  Is she tricked? Is Jacob tricked?  

Two books, Texts of Terror by Phyllis Trible and The Harlot by the side of the Road by Jonathan Kirsch, which I first read in an interfaith clergy book discussion group are worth adding to this discussion. They may give us modern clues and interpretations as to why these troubling stories are included. (Thank you, Father John Cox for initially recommending it. That’s a memory too!)  

Perhaps this parsha comes to remind us that women have rights. That they can only marry with consent. That they can’t be tricked into becoming sex workers. That false imprisonment on charges of sexual violations is wrong.  

Our tradition has much to say about justice. “Tzedek, tezedk tirdorf. Justice, justice shall you pursue.” That we should “do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with G-d.” But we are not to seek revenge. That vengeance is G-d’s, not ours.  

Recently we have been hearing a lot about the word nekamah. Revenge. It is a powerful word and a powerful impulse, born as one rabbi said this week, “of raw pain, deep fear and inconsolable anger.” But he adds that it goes beyond self-defense. It’s self-perpetuating—the “re: in revenge isn’t there for nothing. Nekama’s intentionally disproportionate terror and violence fuel wars and inflict traumas lasting generations…Nekamah. I hurt, so you will hurt. I suffered, so you will suffer more.” 

Tamar doesn’t choose nekamah. Joseph, falsely imprisoned, doesn’t choose nekamah.  

The prayer that we add at Chanukah, Al Hanisim, talks about nekamah.  “It poetically describes how God took up the Israelites’ grievance (“ravta et ribam”), judged their claim (“danta et dinam”), and avenged their wrong (“nakamta et nikmatan”), decisively defeating the wicked Greeks.” I’ve never been comfortable with calls for revenge. I’ve never been comfortable with prayers that beg G-d is on our side. Or that we are deserving of some miracle. https://truah.org/resources/ian-chesir-teran-vayeshev-moraltorah_2023/ 

This is Human Rights Shabbat so deemed by T’ruah and by American Jewish World Service, two organizations I support. This is the closest Shabbat to Human Rights Day, Dec. 10, which this year is the 75th anniversary of.  When the Universal Human Rights Declaration was signed 75 years ago, I believe it carried much weight, much fanfare and was the cause of celebration. There were other declarations that year as well, like the founding of the State of Israel 

These days the Universal Declaration of Human Rights feels tarnished. As we continue to watch the events unfold in Israel, where is the Red Cross checking on the hostages? How long did it take to decry the sexual crimes against the women in Israel on Oct. 7? I want those hostages back. That would be a Chanukah miracle. I want the war to stop. To have no more killing. It shouldn’t be complicated but it is. It involves trust which may be the opposite of fear. 

But I believe the promise of the declaration was real then, and I believe it can be again. Perhaps this is what we need to rededicate ourselves to at this Chanukah. We have much work to do. False imprisonment, here and around the globe… 

I don’t have all the answers, but I return to the words of this morning’s haftarah. Not by might, not by power but by My spirit alone shall we all live in peace. That is the ultimate vision of Chanukah. Not military force. Perhaps that is what we need to rededicate ourselves to. Then truly it will be called “Hain, Hain. Beautiful, Beautiful.” When every old person can dream dreams and the youth shall see visions. When everyone, everyone can sit under their vine and fig tree and none, none shall make them afraid.