When I was lighting Chanukah candles last night, my mind focused on a specific detail about the lighting. How do we place the candles on the menorah? The candles are placed on the menorah from right to left. One of the features that drew me to Judaism is that there is symbolism in everything. I am sure that there is some symbolism behind it, or that I could at least find some. I was spending the evening with a friend, and it became more clear that I was perplexed by finding the answer to this "why" question. He then said to me, "You know, Hebrew is read from right to left. Maybe that is why the candles are placed that way." After giving it some more thought, I realized that he may be on to something.
Hebrew is indeed written and read from right to left. In contrast, Greek is written from left to right. Why do I bring up the Greeks specifically? Because in the Chanukah story, the occupying force (King Antiochus III in particular) was Greek. One of the main motifs of the Chanukah story is that the Maccabees fought the Greeks to maintain their Jewish practice and identity. Perhaps putting the candles from right to left is another subtle way of the Jew reminding himself or herself that there are features of Judaism that make Jews different from the rest of the world. There is some truth in that. At the same time, a further look into Chanukah practices paints a more complex view of how the Jew interacts with the greater world.
Let's start with the dreidel, the four-sided spinning top commonly associated with Chanukah. The dreidel brings up a certain paradox on this theme, one that I pointed out over a decade ago. On the one hand, the dreidel has uniquely Jewish characteristics. It has four Hebrew letters on it and it is played on Chanukah. On the other hand, look at the role of the dreidel in the Chanukah story. It was a game played in the streets to not arouse suspicion from the fact that the Jews in the Chanukah story were studying Torah, an act that was considered illegal under Antiochus' regime. Plus, the dreidel game has its origins in the practice of teetotum, a English top game that was popular around Christmas time. As Rabbi David Golinkin points out, the irony of the dreidel is that a way that Jews celebrate a victory over cultural assimilation is through the dreidel game, which is unto itself an act of assimilation.
The potato pancakes, or latkes, are another example. If you care about history, you cannot argue in good faith that latkes have always been a part of Jewish tradition. For one, the Chanukah story is one that took place centuries after the story of receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai. Two, the origin of the potato is the Andes. Potatoes were not brought over to Europe until after Christopher Columbus made his mark on the Western Hemisphere. Even then, the potato pancake is a staple of multiple European nations, including Sweden (raggmunkar, potatisbullar), Germany and Austria (Kartoffelpuffer), Bulgaria (patatnik), and Poland (placki ziemniaczane). Similarly, the recipe for the sufganiyah, the jelly-filled donut eaten on Chanukah, was first published in a non-Jewish, German cookbook in the late fifteenth century (Encyclopedia of Jewish Food by Gil Marks).
Gift-giving on Chanukah provides further insight on the matter. Looking at the history and significance of giving on Chanukah, there was a pre-modern practice of giving money (gelt) to children on Chanukah. However, this practice was quite modest in comparison to what we have today. Gift-giving on Chanukah is a primarily American practice that evolved from interactions with non-Jewish neighbors. Gift-giving as a Jewish-American practice resulted from two phenomena. One is that it was a response to Christmas. The other is that after World War II and the suburban sprawl, Jews could better assimilate into greater U.S. society. Gift-giving on Chanukah became a way to not feel left out.
For a more complicated relationship with the greater world, look at Ma'oz Tzur, a liturgical poem that is commonly sung on Chanukah. The most common melody of Ma'oz Tzur is based on a German folk song. At the same time, the poem was written at a time where Jews were being oppressed by their Christian neighbors. Johns Hopkins Professor Yitzhak Melamed details how Ma'oz Tzur has anti-Christian sentiment in light of the fact that Jews during the Crusades died "in the name of the Cross." It is true that there historically been discord, tension and animosity between Christians and Jews. It is also true that Judeo-Christian relations are, on average, better than they ever have been. We live in an age where we are not trapped in the past and we can coexist in a pluralistic society.
If you take a look through Jewish history, the Talmud, or other aspects of Jewish culture, what you will note is that relations with broader society can be complicated and cannot be overgeneralized. There are moments when relations are good and times when they are bad. Context matters. Regardless of whether relations are good or bad, one thing that is undeniable or inescapable is that the Jewish world is influenced by broader society. As Chanukah practices illustrate, Judaism does not interact within a bubble.
How do we resolve the tension within the paradox? One of the many reasons I converted to Judaism is because I was fascinated by the and resilience and adaptability of the Jewish people over time. The Jewish people have maintained their rituals, customs, and practices. The continuity of the tradition is fascinating. The Jewish people learned how to be comfortable with the uncomfortable feeling of being different. They also learned how to interact with and succeed in broader society. After all, the Jewish text Pirke Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) teaches that one who is wise is one who learns from all people (4:1), and that includes people who are not Jewish.
Cultural exchange is how we evolve and better our lives. Even as the "Chanukah spirit" teaches us to be proudly Jewish, it also reminds us that Chanukah would not exist in its current form had Jews not interacted with and learned from non-Jews. That is integration in a nutshell: maintaining a sense of who you are while being part of broader society. The lesson of Chanukah is neither about assimilating nor trying to isolate ourselves from those who are different from us. It will be different for each Jew, but at the end of the day, one of the main lessons of Chanukah is about maintaining that balance between Jewish identity and being a part of broader society.