A Festivus Miracle

I work for a nonprofit organization that represents a certain group of medical specialists. There are groups like mine for every medical specialty; dermatologists, podiatrists, plastic surgeons…I don’t work for any of them, but you get the idea.

There are about 300 people in my office, and if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say 15 of us are Jewish, and that’s a very liberal estimation. This surprised my wife; she asked how an office full of people in the medical profession could be so devoid of Jews. It’s simple; most Jews become actual doctors. It’s schmucks like me that work on their behalf. My theory is proven when a search of our database reveals that more than 100 of our members are named Levine, but none of our employees.

This results in a lot of wonderful situations in which I am the token Jew. Never was this more apparent than last week, on the first day of Chanukah. To most Jews, Chanukah is not a particularly big deal. You get presents, you light some candles, eat latkes, and it’s a great time. But as a converted Jew I can tell you that Jews don’t get nearly as excited about Chanukah as Christians do about Christmas. We take Passover, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur very seriously. Those are “big deal” holidays, on par with the Christian passion for Christmas and Easter. But Chanukah, not so much. My wife once told me that Jews made a big deal out of Chanukah primarily so kids could feel better about missing out on Christmas. The goyim just don’t get this. “It’s like your version of Christmas!” they say. But let’s examine this:

• We’re celebrating the victory of a group of farmers, led by a guy nicknamed “The Hammer,” over the entire Syrian army, and the rededication of our temple, during which an oil lamp managed to burn for eight days when it only held enough oil for one.
• Christians are celebrating the birth of their savior, who was born to a virgin in a stable, after which he was bestowed with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh by three kings who heard angels and followed a star. Christians celebrate by decorating trees, hanging stockings, and shopping.

So yes, there are similarities in the stories. For example, in all likelihood, they didn’t really happen. At least not exactly like that. As good a leader as Judah “The Hammer” Maccabee may have been, there was probably a much larger army on his side than history would indicate. In addition, the Syrian king at the time, Antiochus, had outlawed Judaism, and if history has shown us one thing, you don’t piss off the Jews. Finally, the first book of Maccabees makes no mention of the oil thing. In fact, some historians believe that though a major celebration did take place during the rededication of the temple, it may have been a delayed celebration of Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret, which the Maccabees couldn’t observe at the correct time because they were busy slaughtering Syrians.

As far as Christmas, no one seems to agree on when Jesus was born, only that it probably wasn’t December 25. And, as everyone knows, most of the symbols and traditions of Christmas have pagan origins. To my knowledge, there is no mention of stockings, mistletoe, Santa Claus, or FAO Schwartz in the bible. But then, I glossed over a lot of the New Testament, so I could be wrong. So the similarities between the two holidays end, ironically, with their discrepancies. (Though each religion has managed to produce one high quality holiday film – It’s a Wonderful Life and the Hebrew Hammer. Christmas has far superior children’s specials, however, No one will ever argue that "Rugrats Chanukah" is more entertaining than "A Charlie Brown Christmas." They’ve also got us beat in children’s literature; last year I bought my son both How the Grinch Stole Christmas and When Mindy Saved Hanukkah. The ratio of requests for the Grinch to requests for Mindy remains about 15-1.)

Christians (and nonreligious folks that observe Christmas) REALLY get into their holiday, and can’t understand why Jews don’t get as jacked up about Chanukah. This resulted in five – count them, five – people asking me why I was at work on the first day of Chanukah. I emailed a Jewish coworker about this, inquiring as to whether or not she’d been getting the same question. Her two word response: “It’s Chanukah?”

I realized I could have taken the whole week off and no one would have said anything out of fear that they could be fired for religious persecution. I began thinking of ways I could use this to my advantage. We have an annual office/cubicle decorating contest. The flyer that was handed out for the contest featured the following pictures: the Grinch, Scrooge, a wreath, Christmas ornaments, a family of folks in red and green sitting around a table, a dog wearing a Santa hat, and a gingerbread house. Yet nowhere on the flyer did the word “Christmas” appear. No, it was a “holiday” decorating contest. (I should add in the interest of full disclosure that when I saw one of these flyers on someone’s desk I would draw a star of David and write “Chanukah!” or “Jew!” in large friendly letters.) I asked my coworker who designed the flyer if my people were intentionally left off and, realizing the oversight, she reacted in horror. Knowing she was on the ropes, I told this coworker (who is black) “Look, you’re fortunate enough to come from a people who have never known exclusion or oppression. You don’t understand how something like this makes us feel – how we think we’ve advanced in society only to find out that we’re not as important as, say, a dog with a Santa hat.”

I decided that I would enter the “holiday” decorating contest and completely plaster my office with menorahs, stars of David, bags of gelt, and other decorations - maybe throw in a seder plate and a shofar because really, who’s going to know the difference? Then if I didn’t win, I would argue that there was a clear bias toward Christians. Also, I could have gotten the decorations cheap since judging for the contest took place two days after Chanukah had ended.

I realized, though, that this would only add to an already existing belief that people who don’t celebrate Christmas get upset or offended at the sight of anything Christmas-related. That’s why they’re called “holiday trees” now instead of Christmas trees. I would like to state here, on the record, once and for all, speaking on behalf of my people everywhere around the world: WE DON’T CARE. Seriously. Calling it a “holiday tree” implies that it represents other holidays besides Christmas. Hell, it doesn’t even represent YOUR holiday, its origins are from a pagan winter solstice ritual. You should feel free to be as loud and celebratory as you like, just like we Jews are for Yom Kippur. (I’ll give you a minute to look up Yom Kippur on Wikipedia. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Get the joke? Good, moving on.)

Anyway, I elected to come to work on each day of Chanukah, and only once did I intentionally try to make people uncomfortable. During our holiday party, a raffle was held during which we handed out some pretty lavish gifts to employees. I was lucky enough to win a two-night stay at the Ritz Carlton in Las Vegas (it pays to work in the medical field). As I accepted my prize, I took the microphone from our CEO and bellowed “Finally, things are looking up for the Jews!” The applause and smiles turned to looks of horror, and the silence was only broken by the laughter of my fellow members of the tribe.