When Does the Night End?

There’s something unusual about Hanukkah this year, and I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it is.

Of course, there’s always something unusual about Chanukah – it’s a quirky holiday, starting with the spelling of the word. In Dreidels on the Brain, I managed to spell it 67 different ways!

Though we can’t agree on the spelling, the translation is unambiguous. It means rededication. It goes back to the story of the holiday, of the Maccabees triumphing over the armies of Antiochous, then returning to Jerusalem to rededicate the temple.

“Rededication” always seemed like a clunky name for a holiday – until this year. And maybe that’s what’s unusual: In 2018, the name of the choliday is suddenly relevant. Because the spirit of rededication is everywhere. Since November of 2016, we have been fighting an epic battle against greed, arrogance, hypocrisy, xenophobia and all-around-pig-headedness.

The very same forces against which the Maccabees battled, these have made for dark times in America. And yet, in the face of this darkness we have seen something remarkable. In the months leading up to our midterm elections, people have not given up. Far from it, they have redoubled their efforts – and rededicated themselves to saving our democracy.

We have a long way to go to reverse the damage and set America back on a path toward the future. Even so, this Kchaanukah, we have something to celebrate. Toward that end, here’s a story to remind us of our direction as we work to heal our country and this world. Time is sacred in Judaism, and from this, many questions arise.

One that our sages have pondered is exactly when one recites the first prayers of the morning. And so a group of students asked their rabbi this question: When does the night end?

“Is it when the morning star appears?” asked one.

“No,” said the rabbi. “That is not it.”

“Is it the first moment you can look at your tallis (prayer shawl) and distinguish the blue from the white?”

“No,” said the rabbi. “It is not that either.”

“Perhaps,” said a third, “it is when you can see the lines on the palm of your hand?”

“No,” said the rabbi, shaking his head. “I will tell you. When you look at your neighbor’s face and recognize it as your own. Then, at last, the long night is over – and the day has begun.”

A version of this story appears in The Beggar King and the Secret of Happiness.