DON'T LET THE LIGHT GO OUT
December 1, 2002
The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
Hanukkah is not a major Holy Day in the Jewish tradition; indeed, it's probably gained much of its importance as a defense against the overpowering presence of Christmas in our culture. Still, there are a number of stories of Jews around the world re-telling the saga of the Maccabees' victory, and lighting the candles in remembrance, even in the darkest of times.
"Hanukkah" means "Dedication," and refers specifically to the dedication of the Temple once it was restored. But no ceremony, no re-telling of a story, holds value unless it pushes us to re-dedicate ourselves to what we hold dear - to those values and dreams that point us toward Life. Even in these modern times, the stories of Hanukkah - stories of oppression, rebellion, courage, and miracles - hold universal truths for people of all faiths.
So let us light the candles of this season, in remembrance, and in hope for guidance.
(MAIN CANDLE LIT)
The tallest candle is called the shammes - meaning "servant." It is used to light all the other candles, and reminds us that no matter how much of ourselves we give away in love and service to others, our own radiance is never diminished.
(1ST CANDLE LIT)
Let us light this first candle as a reminder that perhaps our most difficult task as people of faith is discernment: How do we know the right decisions to make in moral dilemmas? How do we determine which road to follow? What does it mean to live our faith - our Unitarian Universalist Principles - as the ancient Maccabees lived theirs?
Most of us, fortunately, aren't faced with the kind of life or death choices that the Jews faced in 167 BCE. On the other hand, it was not that long ago in Germany that some Christians were confronted with the meaning of their faith, and chose to risk their own lives in order to hide their Jewish sisters and brothers from the atrocities of the Nazis.
Some non-Jews chose to speak publicly against Hitler, as did the Czechoslovakian Unitarian minister, Norbert Capek.
He was arrested for his bravery and thrown into prison, where he eventually died. It is in memory of his courage that most of our UU congregations celebrate a Flower Communion every spring.
For most of us, however, discernment simply has to do with choosing how we align our daily lives with our UU values: How do we treat the people we love? And more importantly, how do we treat the people we don't even like, and the people we don't know? How do we treat the earth, and all its creatures? How do we spend our money; how do we earn it? And how do we determine our stance on the major social issues of the day?
Our Mission Statement here at Emerson suggests that we "struggle with the moral and ethical questions of this age." But at some point we must do more than "struggle" with those questions; at some point, we must reach some answers, and discern a course of action. None of this is easy; but then, no one ever said that following one's faith was supposed to be easy.
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to rededicate ourselves to living our values as best we can, and to keep the light of clarity burning brightly.
(2ND CANDLE LIT)
Let us light the second candle as a reminder that the struggle for religious freedom is ongoing, and that we must not become complacent.
The Maccabees were fighting for their freedom to worship one God, and to carry out what they understood to be God's laws. Our Unitarian Universalist history also includes people who refused to safely accept the dominant religion of their day, and suffered greatly for that refusal.
Today, religious oppression and wars rage around the world - because some human beings refuse to accept the idea that there could be any other interpretation of truth than their own. We saw the result of such thinking most horribly on September 11th last year; we see it daily in the violence in Israel. And we see it in acts of cruelty - even death - against women in some parts of the world because of ancient religious laws based on only one interpretation of their Scripture.
But religious intolerance, of course, isn't found only in other countries. Here in the United States - supposedly the model of religious tolerance - we wrestle with people who think that their religion should be forced on everyone. Prayers in schools, the banning of books and art, threats against abortion clinics - all these and more are signs that we are not yet a religiously-tolerant society.
Even worse is the news this past week that violence against Muslims in this country has risen 1600% since the 9/11 attacks. And since the passage of the "Patriot Act" shortly thereafter, Muslim Americans and other people of Middle Eastern descent have been targeted by law enforcement agencies more than any other group.
Of course, as with most everything, we must look at ourselves as well: Do we UUs practice religious tolerance? Are we truly accepting of each person's understanding of the Sacred? Are we supportive of each individual's spiritual quest - by whatever words they use to describe it? I must say that I was disturbed by some comments I received, directly and indirectly, after our Installation last Sunday, to the effect that there was too much "God" in the service! It made me realize how much courage it took for Rev. Sinkford to share his experience of being "held" by a presence he chooses to call "God."
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to rededicate ourselves to our Principles of "acceptance of one another" in our spiritual growth, and to "a free…search for truth and meaning;" it calls us to keep the light of religious freedom brightly burning.
(3RD CANDLE LIT)
Let us light the third candle as a reminder of the need for Peace.
Our world is filled with war. And for the first time, our country is poised to declare it on a country that has made no attack on us, nor have they threatened to do so; it is we who are threatening them.
And I have been both saddened and angered by the escalation of violence in the Middle East. I cannot see any justification for it, either on the part of Israel or the Palestinians. And the people who are most affected by these acts of violence and terrorism aren't the soldiers or the politicians; it's innocent people, especially the children, whose future is thwarted over and over again.
Last year I attended my mother's Episcopal church in Corona Del Mar, to hear my younger brother who had been invited to deliver the sermon there that day; it was the first Sunday of Advent. (My brother is not a priest; he's a church and seminary fundraiser. But he's also a very good preacher!) One of the Lessons for the liturgy that day was the passage from Isaiah: "They will hammer their swords into plowshares and their spears into sickles. Nation will not lift sword against nation, and no longer will they learn war." My brother said to that fairly conservative congregation: "I suspect that if Isaiah were alive today, he'd not be very welcome in our churches; the Vestry would have to sit down with the priest and have a little chat about this troublemaker!"
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to become the "troublemakers," - the Isaiahs of the world. It calls us to rededicate ourselves to holding the leaders of the world - and particularly our own leaders -- accountable to ensure a peaceful and just world for the children, and for us all.
(4th CANDLE LIT)
Let us light this fourth candle as a reminder of the miracles of everyday life.
We religious liberals - we "rationalists" - have trouble with the idea of miracles. Even though we may catch ourselves occasionally speaking of the "miracle" of childbirth, or the "miracle" of barely escaping death, we really think everything has a logical explanation - and perhaps it does.
But what about all those moments of grace - when something surprising and wonderful occurs? What about those moments of unexpected and even undeserved joy?
The root of the word "miracle" is related to the word "smile," and I like to think of miracles as instances in our lives when the Universe -- God, or the Spirit of Life, smiles upon us; those times when everything may seem to be falling apart, and then suddenly comes together; or when we beat the odds, or fall in love, or heal broken relationships. Do not all those moments feel as if Creation has suddenly "smiled" upon us?
A favorite rabbinic question about the story of Hanukkah is: What is the miracle of the first day, since there was enough oil for one day? There are apparently over 100 answers to this question. One of those answers is that the miracle of the first day was the deep faith it required to even light the menorah in the Temple, knowing that there wasn't enough for a full eight days. To have such faith despite the darkness, and a belief in the creation of light in the depths of winter - that, the rabbis say, was a miracle.
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to pay attention to the miracles in our lives, and to rededicate ourselves to keeping the light of Grace brightly burning.
(5TH CANDLE LIT)
Let us light the fifth candle as a reminder of the courage it takes to live our religion. The stories found in the Jewish Bible, as well as those found in other texts, are filled with acts of courage.
Our Unitarian Universalist history, too, contains stories of courage. Michael Servetus was burned at the stake by John Calvin in the 16th century, for refusing to keep his religious understanding silent. Around the same time, followers of Faustus Socinus in Poland were run out of town by the Jesuits, and had their printing press destroyed, for speaking out against religious intolerance. These were people of courage.
In more recent times, Unitarian Universalist minister James Reeb was murdered in the '60s while marching for justice in Selma, Alabama alongside Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Living his Unitarian Universalist values meant that love of life and freedom had to be stronger than fear; he was a man of courage.
For the openly bisexual, gay and lesbian members of our UU congregations, it is an act of courage every time they "come out" to someone new; it is even more difficult for those who are transgender. Many still risk their lives to live "out loud." They are people of courage.
But one doesn't necessarily have to risk one's life or freedom to demonstrate courage. Sometimes, simply to speak one's mind when surrounded by opposition is an act of courage. For many of you, the act of leaving the religion of your childhood - that of your family - took extreme courage, and may still cause anguish years later. And in these times of nationalistic fervor, speaking against the political direction of our country can cause one to be accused of disloyalty.
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to rededicate ourselves to a life lived with courage, and to keep the light of our passion brightly burning.
(6TH CANDLE LIT)
Let us light the sixth candle as a reminder that for us, our Temple is the world - the earth and all her creatures. We have participated in the destruction of our Temple, and we must dedicate ourselves to the cleansing of it. It will take longer than eight days, and we'll need more light than we have here. But each act of human and environmental justice, each act of responsibility, of mercy and kindness, is a step toward the rebuilding of our Temple.
We are living in a time that cries out for people who will carry the light of justice - be it justice for children, for the poor and oppressed, for animals, or for the earth. Unitarians and Universalists have always participated in this work - often being at the forefront.
The events of September 11th and the so-called "War on Terrorism" have overtaken the news this past year, along with the toll on our economy. What hasn't received as much attention is the destruction that is occurring to our Earth, at a much faster pace than before. Advances that had been made to decrease air and water pollution, to save our forests, and to protect endangered species, are little by little being reversed. And so, even without knowing all the details, I applaud the tree-sitter up in Santa Paula, as he symbolizes to me a commitment to our mother the earth.
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to cleanse our Temple the Earth daily, and to rededicate ourselves to keeping the light of justice for that Temple brightly burning.
(7th CANDLE LIT)
Let us light the seventh candle as a reminder that ours is a hopeful religion - one that puts more faith in human goodness than it does in despair or cynicism. Our faith insists that people are born not in sin, but in worthiness; that ultimately, acts of compassion and goodness can overcome evil.
I know how very difficult it is to hold this vision, in light of the horrendous crimes committed against the innocent almost every day. Reading the newspaper becomes a heart-breaking experience, as we learn especially of the children around the world, as well as in our own neighborhoods, who suffer at the hands of adults who should know better.
Last year, immediately following the 9/11 attacks, several people confided in me the struggle they were having in trying to see the "inherent worth and dignity" of the terrorists. And when an Israeli American friend of mine, who is deeply committed to the Middle East peace movement, learned that a young woman from his Synagogue had been among the murdered by a suicide bomber at the University of Israel, even he had to wrestle with feelings of vengeance towards the Palestinians.
But I believe that wrestling with the pull between hopefulness and mercy on the one hand, and fear and hatred on the other, is a religious imperative for people of all faith traditions, particularly our own. And I believe that if we pay attention not only to the evil in the world, but to the signs of goodness as well, we will see that for every act of hatred and destruction, there are more acts of goodness, of love and creation.
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to rededicate ourselves to the embodiment of our faith through such acts of goodness, and to keep the light of hope brightly burning.
(8TH CANDLE LIT)
Let us light the eighth and final candle as a reminder that we are called to "love one another." In this church, as in many of our churches and fellowships, we covenant together every Sunday by saying, "Love is the spirit of this church." Yet it is sometimes the most difficult covenant to follow, particularly when it involves those who oppose us or our ideals. But in his first letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul wrote that even if we speak with "the tongues of angels," or give all we own to the poor - if we do it without love, it is meaningless.
Mother Teresa said, "It is not how much we do, but how much love we put into the doing of it." I can shout all I want about how wrong I think engaging in war with Iraq is, or the terrible undercutting of our Constitutional rights the Bush Administration has embraced. But if I speak only in anger, rather than love -- for peace, for humanity and freedom, and even for those who oppose me -- then my words are hollow. Love is what must guide all of us.
Hanukkah calls us, as Unitarian Universalists, to remember that woven through our discernment, our struggle for religious freedom, our work for peace and justice, our attention to miracles, our courage, our care for the Earth, and our hopefulness, must live a dedication to the abiding Love that will sustain us all, and bring us peace.
It is said that on Hanukkah we are given a part of the primordial light, which has been hidden away since Creation, preserved for the righteous in the world to come.
I believe that that light is not only given to Jews; it is given to all of us - Jewish, Christian, Hindu, Muslim, Pagan, Buddhist, Unitarian Universalist - all of us. For we are the stuff from which miracles are made. May we keep our common lights burning brightly, so we may create and bear witness to the miracles present throughout all time.
Amen and Blessed Be.
© 2002 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
