Violence and Myth

A reflection for Hanukkah

Violence surrounds us.

Violence grounds us. And motivates us. And rallies us.

We are addicted to violence.

The Hanukkah narrative celebrates violence, and the Maccabees who led the revolt against the occupying Seleucid empire are celebrated for their strength. The modern characterization of Zionism channels this Maccabean strength as a paradigmatic example of the modern Jew. Much like the plagues visited on Egypt for Pesach and the turnabout slaughter of the imagined enemies in Esther’s story. Our myths celebrate violence. There is the strength of Masada, for the Judeans who would rather take their own lives than die by Roman hand, and there is the Bar Kokhba revolt against Rome that ended in terrible slaughter.

Bibi Netanyahu evokes the Amalekites in his genocide against Palestinians, the sworn enemies of the ancient Israelites in the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible), and the Kahanists in Israel expand settlements through violence. The Israeli war cabinet is set on annihilating Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank. The President-elect of the United States has called on Israel to “finish the job” and suggested that ruined Gaza would make excellent beachfront property.

The President-elect has also proposed one vicious day of police violence as a deterrence to crime, and he calls on his political opponents to be jailed and toys with the idea of mobilizing the National Guard and military to handle the mass round-up, detainment, and deportation of millions of migrants. He calls us the enemy within.

Meanwhile, his cabinet picks have done tremendous violence against women, and their attack on diversity, equity, and inclusion places historically marginalized populations in the crosshairs of violence. His pick for Secretary of Defense makes his goal for the armed forces lethality.

The Christmas story from the Gospel According to Matthew centers itself on the violence of King Herod, a new Pharaoh (those plagues again) who threatens the death of firstborn Judeans. The Christian New Testament caps off with the violence of Revelation that finds Christians today fueling the Zionist project in hopes that this will trigger the return of their messiah to slaughter their enemies.

The American healthcare system regularly visits violence on Americans, and in an act of cold-blooded murder, this violence was exposed by an act of the same.

I take hope in the Talmudic rabbis, who focused Hanukkah on the re-dedication of the Temple and the miracle of the oil rather than violence and bloodshed. I am encouraged that human rights organizations have stood up against Netanyahu's actions. I was encouraged to see the public pressure against the worst of the President-elect’s picks.

I join my voice with my other Jewish siblings who see the government of Israel totally at odds with Jewish values, and I continuously see nonviolence emerge from the Christian scriptures.

The assassination of a CEO has brought a unifying moment against the greed of corporate conglomerates and private equity that choose profits over people’s lives.

I am careful, however, not to treat any of this balancing of the forces as foregone conclusions. History's long moral arc does not bend toward justice without the exertion of our will.

Candlelit renditions of Silent Night and the glowing lights of the menorah bring light to the dark shadows of our worse inclinations, but it takes all of us to spark these fires. We must continually resist our addiction to violence through the daily pursuit of justice. It sure does seem like the deck is stacked against us. After all the punditry and political talking points—this demographic and that, these educated voters but not those, the working class and the elites—we are left with a President-elect who is fascist to his core. Not my words.

The Seleucids were wrong to occupy and desecrate; the Hasmoneans (Maccabees) were wrong to exert their practice of Judaism onto all Judeans. The Romans were wrong to slaughter and enslave first and second-century Judea and Samaria; Hamas was wrong to attack, and Israel is wrong to punish an entire people collectively. The military-industrial complex must be slowed, the greed of capitalism must be stopped, and a fascist president must be resisted.

I cling to my complicated religious identity for its deep grounding in myth, story, ritual, and ancestry. It is not only the stories that we tell, it is how we understand them. Maybe it is by reflecting on the ancient that we are clearer-headed and more informed about the present, informed by our values. But what worries me is that our values seem more often steeped in blood than repair.

This post today is from a dark place in my soul, but my tradition tells a creation story where the light is separated from the dark—each preexistent, not one created, but two always together, and the Creator creates with wisdom to separate. Maybe that’s what I’m beginning to do here, in the image of that Creator, b’tzelem Elohim. May we all find the wisdom to separate the just from the unjust, the peace from the violence, and the belovedness and dignity for each other from the all-too-easy dehumanization.

We are in a moment that calls for solidarity, and toward this is where the candles of the season light my path. Let’s walk together.