Two thousand years ago, it was best practice to place one’s Chanukah menorah at the outside entrance of one’s house. For those who rented space in the upstairs of someone else’s house, it was recommended to place one’s Chanukah menorah in the window that faces the street. And for those who lived in an apartment building where the windows were more than 20 feet above the ground, it was a choice as to whether one wished to put their Chanukah menorah in the window, or simply on an inside table.1
These Chanukah menorah laws appeared to come from two overarching places: the first was the desire to publicize the miracle of Chanukah, and the second was the practicality of how one’s living arrangement makes it doable or not to place a Chanukah menorah in the sight of those who would be able to witness the miracle.
Today, a majority of American Jews place the Chanukah menorah in a window.
What happens when we live in a season when it may not feel so safe to be so public, placing Chanukah menorahs in our windows?
With a recent uptick in both anti-Semitism directed towards the Jewish community and Islamophobia directed towards our Muslim siblings, this is regrettably a season of concern over safety.
The sober reality is that even in the first centuries of the Common Era, the sages of the Talmud who wrote the laws and customs for Chanukah wrestled with the challenge that came with living openly as a religious minority. Therefore they wrote, “In a time of danger, one places the Chanukah menorah on an inside table and that is sufficient.”2
I think we learn multiple lessons for our own time in this “safety clause” regarding the placement of Chanukah menorahs.
The first is that every action is to be a thoughtful action. If putting a Chanukah menorah in a public place feels comfortable to members of my Jewish community, then it is right because it is a decision with integrity. And if it doesn’t feel comfortable to some, then it isn’t right for them, andthat too is a decision with integrity. Let’s ask ourselves how we can be sensitive to our Jewish neighbors, regardless of their practice, during this time of concern.
I am putting my Chanukah menorah in the window this year because I feel comfortable with that. Similarly, this year, the town of Lexington is making space for members of the community to light a Chanukah menorah publicly, in Emery Square.
The greatest lesson during our unique time of concern is what we learn from our Jewish Sages who placed their Chanukah menorahs on inside tables: it was still a law to light the Chanukah menorah.
We do not and have not desisted from practicing our religion at challenging moments. All we do and have done is to be thoughtful and consider optional pivots in our steady practice. This is an act of faith and symbolism.
We do not extinguish light. We do not extinguish hope. We do not extinguish promise. We do not extinguish moral obligations.
This Chanukah, which begins Thursday evening December 7, as we light our Chanukah menorahs, whether by the doorpost, a street-facing window, or an inside table, may we each consider how this one act of keeping the lights lit serves as the truest expression of hope, perseverance, and bravery.
Rabbi Karen Thomashow, Senior Rabbi of Temple Isaiah
After a fire many years ago I am afraid to put my menorah on an inside window sill. Instead, my electric menorah is outside my front door where the beautiful blue lights are easily visible. The menorah I light each night is on a table next to where I sit in my den.
So well said…”We do not extinguish…”
Thank you
Thanks for bringing attention to concern about antisemitism, even in Lexington, and for emphasizing that even when uneasy or afraid, it is still incumbent on us the light the menorah.
Beautiful thoughts! We do not extinguish!
We are and will be here to bear witness
Baruch Hashem
We strive to bring light to the darkness, even at this darkest time.
These little lights are signs of great courage!