Ner Chanukah: A Mitzvah Chaviva

I wrote this little d'var Torah (thoughts on the Torah) for Chanukah for one of the local synagogues and thought I'd share here, too! Enjoy.

Rambam says that the Chanukah lights are a mitzvah chaviva hi ad meod, or an exceedingly precious or cherished mitzvah (Hilchot Megillah v'Chanukah 4:12). This description didn’t strike me just because, well, my name is Chaviva, but because this type of language isn’t used for other mitzvot (commandments). So why is lighting the Chanukiyah considered a mitzvah chaviva? We have to start by looking back at Aharon and the Menorah.

Bonus: What's the Difference Between a Menorah and a Chanukiyah?

In Parashat Behaalotecha, we’re told that Aharon is commanded to light the Menorah in the Mishkan, and that “he did so” (Numbers 8:3). Although Aharon’s tribe had been the only one not to participate in gift giving to the Mishkan, the Kohen Gadol had many other vital responsibilities and, let’s be honest, Aharon did sacrifice his sons in the process. But perhaps he still felt a little jilted. After all, the Midrash says that each gift was spiritually specific and significant to each tribe. Perhaps Aharon felt that others were more whole after giving, perhaps in a way that he couldn’t be despite his service. Enter HaShem, who tasks Aharon with the Menorah.

Aharon saw this mitzvah as chavivut and did exactly as HaShem commanded, which, according to Rashi, was a compliment to Aharon and signified that he was uniquely qualified for this job. Just as the Menorah is made from a single block of gold, so, too, do all Jews originate at the same source. By taking on the mitzvah of the Menorah precisely as HaShem commanded, Aharon embodied and delivered on the essence of what the Menorah symbolized — the unity of the Jewish people. As Pirkei Avot 1:12, says, “Be of the disciples of Aharon, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving mankind and drawing them close to the Torah.” 

From Aharon and the Menorah to the miracle of Chanukah and the rededication of the Holy Temple, we have the Chanukiyah. Although the mitzvah of lighting the Chanukiyah could be performed through a spouse, partner, or shaliach, it's such a precious and cherished mitzvah that — like Aharon with the Menorah — we each want to perform it ourselves and thus are commanded to do so. We each want to feel responsible for this mitzvah and to embody what the Chanukiyah symbolizes. After all, this is the one time in the Jewish calendar that we can be a literal light unto the nations!

On this Chanukah, more than any other in recent memory, we must be a light and bring about the unity that this holiday symbolizes. We must light every night, with a care for our fellow — for their health and safety as well as our own. We must pursue justice and peace through a fire that brings light and guides all on the path forward and not a fire that burns down the world around us, leaving us in darkness and chaos. We must be the disciples of Aharon and fulfill the mitzvah of ner Chanukah — this mitzvah chaviva hi ad meod — with a sense of collective responsibility and the pursuit of a unified Jewish people.

May we all be safe, healthy, and content as we enter the darkest months of the year. Although we can’t be together as we would all love to be, everything comes from HaShem and everything that comes from HaShem is good. This, too, must be for the good. Chag Sameach!

What's the Difference Between a Menorah and a Chanukiah?

Every November or December, whenever the 25th of the month of Kislev falls in the Jewish calendar, Jews around the world celebrate Chanukah, the festival of light. Although many know Chanukah because of it's fried jelly donuts and games of dreidel, the main religious tradition of the holiday is the week-long lighting of a special item known as the chanukiyah (ha-new-key-uh).

Many know the chanukiyah as a menorah, but there's actually a large difference in the two pieces of Judaica. 

Menorah vs. Chanukiah 

Both items are a type of candelabra, but the chanukiah has nine branches while the menorah has only seven. The chanukiah has eight candles in a row with a ninth candle separated or raised (depending on the style of the candelabra) and they come in all shapes, sizes, and themes. The chanukiah represents the miracle of Chanukah when, during the rededication of the Temple, the oil that should have lasted just one night lasted for a miraculous eight nights. 

The ninth branch, known as the shamash ("helper" or "servant"), on the chanukiah is used to light the other branches during each night of Chanukah. Each night of Chanukah the shamash is lit first and then the candles are lit one by one for each night, from left to right (unless you follow another tradition or opinion). 

The other candelabra, known as the menorah, is more of a symbolic object in Judaism. Dating to the time of the First Temple in Jerusalem, it comprises seven branches and does not have a shamash. The menorah was lit by the priests (kohanim), using olive oil every evening in the Holy Temple. 

"And you must make a lamp-stand of pure gold. Of hammered work the lamp-stand is to be made. Its base, its branches, its cups, its knobs and its blossoms are to proceed out from it. And six branches are running out from its sides, three branches of the lamp-stand from its one side and three branches of the lamp-stand from its other side. Three cups shaped like flowers of almond are on the one set of branches, with knobs and blossoms alternating, and three cups shaped like flowers of almond on the other set of branches, with knobs and blossoms alternating. This is the way it is with the six branches running out from the lamp-stand. And on the lamp-stand are four cups shaped like flowers of almond, with its knobs and its blossoms alternating. And the knob under two branches is out of it and the knob under the two other branches is out of it and the knob under two more branches is out of it, for the six branches running out from the lamp-stand. Their knobs and their branches are to proceed out from it. All of it is one piece of hammered work, of pure gold. And you must make seven lamps for it; and the lamps must be lit up, and they must shine upon the area in front of it. And its snuffers and its fire holders are of pure gold. Of a talent of pure gold he should make it with all these utensils of it. And see that you make them after their pattern that was shown to you in the mountain." (Exodus 25:31-40) 

This candelabra became known as a symbol of Judaism and can be found in nearly every synagogue around the world in the form of the ner tamid or everlasting light. In most synagogues, above the arc where the Torah is kept there is a light that is always kept on that represents the holy menorah from the Temple period. The ner tamid reminds us of the Holy Temple and the sadness of its destruction. Whereas it used to be a constantly lit flame, it is now typically an electric lamp that stays on at all hours of the day. 

As you can see, the difference in the two items is significant. Whereas the chanukiah is used for the celebration of a specific festival, the menorah is more of an everlasting symbol of the Jewish religion.

What else do you want to know about Chanukah? 

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Holiday Lights: Reconciling Traditions from a Non-Jewish Childhood for My Jewish Kids

Photo by Adriaan Greyling from Pexels

Well, it’s officially my favorite time of year! I like to think I have reverse seasonal affective disorder — I love cold, cloudy weather. I love snow and layering and giant chunky sweaters and hot drinks. I love winter, glittering lights, and everything that comes along with this time of year.

When I was a kid, this time of year was the one time of year that I truly felt like my family was fully in-sync. We’d get out the boxes and boxes of Christmas ornaments and set up the Christmas tree with painstaking precision. My mother and her Christmas tree were unlike anything I’ve ever encountered to this day. Her tree was white, silver, and glass. It was a small child’s worst nightmare, and every ornament had a story. I can’t remember breaking a single ornament on my mother’s tree for fear of destroying the symbol of a memory that she held dear. After white lights came the strings of beads, then the ornaments, and finally the tree topper. After Christmas, taking down the tree was a chore, because every ornament had to be carefully re-wrapped and placed carefully in a very specific order back into the storage boxes.

I loved it. I loved every minute of it, even as a child.

Another tradition was that we’d pick a night to drive around and look at all of the lights in their glittering glory. These were the days before programmed lights that danced around houses to Mannheim Steamroller. My parents liked driving us to the neighborhoods with the largest houses because they lined their streets with luminaries and the lights were classic white and stunning. When we lived in Southern Missouri, a short drive from the Precious Moments Park & Chapel, we’d drive out every year for Christmas to see the light displays there and go through a drive-through display at a large Catholic Vietnamese institute run by a group of priests.

Lights were an essential part of my childhood and, for me, signaled what a family did in December.

The only other tradition my family had was that, on Christmas Day, if we could afford the expensive meat, my mom would make rouladen. This dish is honestly the only “ethnic” dish my mom ever made, and I don’t know our family history with it other than my mom’s family is German-French. With its expensive, thinly sliced beef with onions and pickles rolled up inside, it was then stewed in tomato sauce, and I grew up hating this dish (pickles are delicious, but not warm). But my mom? Much like the extravagant tree laden with delicate ornaments, my mom looked forward to it every year and it became part of the Edwards family Christmas.

But now? I’m Jewish. Even though Christmas never meant church or Jesus or anything religious, I stopped celebrating Christmas or anything that resembled it back in 2006 after I graduated college and moved out East to pursue my dreams and live Jewishly. My mom slowly stopped setting up the tree because there was no one to help her, and it broke my heart. One year, when she finally decided she was done with Christmas and the tree, she sent me one of her mirrored ornaments shaped like the Star of David, so I could always have a piece of the family tree with me. She joked that, maybe they always knew I'd be Jewish and thus, they had a six-pointed star. It made me sad, it made me wonder what this time of year meant for me and my future children.

Now, I’m lamenting that I can't sit in my favorite independent coffee haunts because of the pandemic. I miss listening to the tunes echoing through the cavernous spaces, with classics such as “Silver Bells” and “Gloria in Excelsis Deo” — songs that swung me back to a different time in my life. In high school, this time of year meant solos in the choir Christmas concert, so I can’t help singing along with the tunes. They make me smile, they make me feel. The concepts or meanings are not what do it, but the simple beauty of the voices and the melodies.

When I had my first child in December of 2013, I was living in Israel and this time of year was strange, but easy. I didn’t have to worry about Santa Claus at the mall or all of the lights or the trees or kids in daycare who weren’t Jewish talking about the holiday. It was easy. But now that we’re in Denver, and kids have questions, I’m constantly assessing how I should tackle this time of year in a way that makes sense to my three littles, yet somehow honors my own upbringing.

I will admit that it's easier this year with the pandemic. We aren't going to the mall where there's large displays of Christmas, and we're not going into grocery stores or Target where everything is red and green. I’m obviously not making rouladen (yuck), and I’m most definitely not putting up a tree.

So? This leaves us with lights. Homes around ours are stringing up lights in all colors and styles, and it reminds me of those evenings out in the minivan driving through the ritzy neighborhoods with my parents and brothers. It’s such a simple thing, but such a meaningful thing — for me — and I want to be able to share that with my kids.

‘Tis the season, after all, because light is what Chanukah is all about. The world emerged with the words “let there be light,” and light is often understood in the Torah to mean knowledge or wisdom. Since creation, we’ve fought to bring those sparks of light back into the world and to bring ourselves out of darkness. As a Jew, I yearn, pursue, and seek that light every day, even as I relish in the cloudy cool of winter in Denver.

During Chanukah’s eight days, the world is illuminated with the light of the chanukiyah. These lights are special because we can only gaze upon them, we can’t use them for any personal reasons. They serve as a message to all who pass by that “darkness can be dispelled with wisdom, obscurity can be illuminated with truth.”

I look at my neighbors' holiday lights much in the same manner. Giant inflatable Santa Clauses and nativity scenes aside, the lights are bringing a beautiful light into the darkest time of the year, and it’s an innocent way I can bring my children into a space that for me has great meaning and history. I can’t wait to pack up my kids and drive them around the nearby neighborhood filled with giant houses to look at the lights. We won’t be listening to Christmas tunes on the radio, but I might pop on some of The Leevees to set the mood.

We'll call them holiday lights and talk about how in the darkest months of the year during a pandemic, more light is what we all truly need. That said, several years ago, Asher did ask, “Mommy, why don’t we have any lights up on our house?” I happily responded, “We will, sweetie. As soon as Chanukah comes, we’ll have eight days of special lights to share with our neighbors.”

Giveaway and Review: Maccabee on the Mantel

The 9-inch plush Musical Maccabee! So tasty. 

'Tis the season for holiday goodness, and this year is super special (for me) because Christmas and Chanukah coincide! Now, I'm not super stoked because we celebrate both in our house (there's no Chanukah bush, folks), but because it's a tad less alienating when the Jewish and Christian holidays coincide and as someone who grew up with all the trappings and jingle bells of Christmas, that means something.

I've sung the praises of this time of year with its snowy sites, festive lights, and delicious smells a million times on this blog. November and December are truly my most favorite months of the year because, well, because I just love everything about these months. Colder weather, twinkling lights, the smells of pumpkin pie and cocoa ... [insert heavy, happy sigh here].

With that said, I was elated when the folks behind the Maccabee on the Mantel at ToyVey Toys reached out with their new line of products for review, because Chanukah is coming, folks! I reviewed the Maccabee on the Mantel nearly two years ago when Asher was so, so small. Of the three products I received for review that year, the Maccabee was, by far, the most high-quality, engaging, and tied-in to Chanukah without feeling too kitschy.

This year, the company has taken the Maccabee up to a whole new level with several new products, which means a Maccabee for Little T and for Asher. The quality is even better than before, and with the new options, there's something for everyone (including something tasty)!

• Hanukkah in a Box
• 9-inch Musical Maccabee: He sings "Dreidel, Dreidel" and it kind of sounds like a recording by The LeeVees, my favorite Chanukah-singing Jewish boy band
• 18-inch Maccabee: This is Asher's favorite. He's huge, and awesome, and super cuddly. 
• 9-inch Maccabee with Hanukkah fortune cookies

My only kvetch? Asher very easily removed the shields and shoes of both of his Maccabees. Now, I don't think this is a huge issue because, come on, he can get creative with his Maccabees, but my husband would prefer they be a bit more securely attached. 

If you're curious what an unboxing with Asher looks like, here it is, unedited! Welcome to the chaos and fun of unboxing new toys with a toddler!

******GIVEAWAY!!!!******

Want to win a Maccabee on the Mantel for your own Chanukah-ready monkey at home? Comment on this post with your favorite thing about this time of year, and you'll be entered to win a 9-inch Maccabee and box of Hanukkah fortune cookies! Share the post on social media, and you'll get an extra entry (just comment with where you shared the content, please). 

Details: Giveaway ends on Thursday, November 10, 2016, at 5 p.m. MT.

Review: Maccabee on the Mantel, Mensch on the Bench, and Gelt-Giving Golem

Captain makes a guest appearance with the Chanukah crew.

My house is full of cute plush creatures and their tales of Chanukah miracles and Asher couldn't be happier!

Yes, we're the proud owners (thanks to receiving these for review) of the Gelt-Giving Golem, Mensch on a Bench, and Maccabee on the Mantel. Each of these plush cuties comes with a box and a book that tells a bit about the Chanukah story, a bit about the character, and a bit about the celebration, the brochot (blessings), and how-tos when it comes to the eight day festival. Likewise, all three encourage the new owner to give a unique and special name to the Golem, Mensch, or Maccabee.

The three are very different in terms of what they bring to the table for the discerning, gift-giver. I always say that I'm boldly honest when it comes to my reviews, and I won't hesitate with that promise here.

Mensch on a Bench (✡✡✡)

You've probably seen the Mensch on a Bench in your local Target or Bed, Bath, and Beyond, as it's the most well-advertised in the mainstream. It's also probably the most substantial "kit" out of the three, as it comes with a mensch decked out in a black hat, tallit, and beard; a book about how to be a mensch (a generally good person); and a removable bench for his lounging pleasure. The mensch holds the shamash (that's the candle that you use to light the other candles on the Chanukah menorah) at the ready for each night of Chanukah, and I love that you're urged not to actually let the mensch light your menorah.

I really like the idea behind this kit, and the plush mensch has a super expressive face (we named him Mordechai) and a well-thought-out outfit and brand. Of the three, however, it isn't Asher's favorite.

The Gelt-Giving Golem (✡✡)

The first company that contacted me presented the Gelt-Giving Golem, the concept for which I really liked. According to the website, this kit

"tells the tale of the Hanukkah Golem, a friendly character who was formed from clay by Rabbi Ben Bezalel on the 25th of Kislev, the first night of Hanukkah. The Hanukkah Golem teaches children to practice Tikun O'lam (repair of the world) and shares chocolate gelt with children who are well-behaved during the holiday."

In this sense, its theme is the closest to the popular Elf on the Shelf, what with the Golem geared toward overnight antics and the promise of treats.

I will say that the plush is not very impressive (especially compared to the other two), although he does have velcro on his hands and feet so you can easily attach him to things in your home. If anything, Asher really loves that the Golem has a cape, because we can make him fly. Even still, he's not Ash's favorite!

The Maccabee on the Mantel (✡✡✡✡✡)

Of all three of these Chanukah-themed boxes of meaning, inspiration, and fun, this is Asher's favorite by far. It is the most substantial and high-quality of the three when it comes to the packaging and presentation, with its almost anime-style illustrations in its book, and the plush itself is very light and soft in its features, which seem to really appeal to my little one.

I also think The Maccabee on the Mantel provides the nicest tie-in to Chanukah overall, what with the plush and almost squishy-soft/hard-cover book highlighting the miracle of Chanukah and the role of the Maccabees. Of the three, it seems like it's the most true to the message of Chanukah.

Asher schleps Zevulon (that's what we named our Maccabee) around the house with joy and giggles, and I have to say that if I had to pick one of the three to gift, I'd definitely pick this one. They also have a lot of really cute videos:

Note: I have a bunch of pictures of Asher + the Chanukah crew and how he reacted when we received them and opened each of them, but I have to find them to post. When we opened Maccabee on the Mantel it was almost like the Maccabee walked out of the box! His jaw dropped and he did this sort of "air release" sound. It was freakin' adorable. 

Happy Turkey Day and a Chanukah Giveaway!

Thanksgiving prep has us beat. 

Oh Thanksgiving. I have such love-hate relationship with you. In truth, the "love" part is the Green Bean Casserole. The "hate" part is all of the other food. I'm not a big crazy indulge meal kind of person. Wait, how did I become an Orthodox Jew with that type of meal twice every week on Shabbat?!

I digress. (On that note, if you're curious why some Jews don't celebrate Thanksgiving, read my article.)

This year, oh this year my parents are coming to town, and I'm making my first solo Thanksgiving ever, without the help of a husband at home. Add to that Asher breaking out with some illness and a fever yesterday and boy oh boy it's been tough cookies around here.

Here's the menu, and before you ask, no, I'm not not making stuffing because I'm gluten free. No, I hate the stuff. It's disgusting.

Kosher Turkey a la Trader Joe's

Gluten-free Green Bean Casserole

Streuseled Sweet Potato Casserole

Deviled Eggs (mom is supposed to make these)

Pistachio Salad 

Gluten-Free Pumpkin Pie

Udi's Gluten-Free Dinner Rolls

Yes, you can see there is some heavy prepackaged goods going on here, but the gluten-free green bean casserole is itself quite the undertaking. I make my own mushroom soup/gravy and my own fried onions. Basically, I do everything but grow, pick, and prep the green beans. (Thank you Target and your Del Monte discount on the Cartwheel app!) These recipes will be posted up, but after Turkey Day. Sorry! At least you can plan for next year?

The Pistachio Salad is an Edwards Family standby. However, for the first time ever in my life making it, I noticed the recipe on the Jell-O Pistachio Pudding box is our family recipe and that it's actually called "Watergate Salad." Secret family recipe bubble burst! I did have to get creative, however, because Cool Whip is dairy and turkey is not! Luckily, I found a new non-dairy whipped topping product by SoDelicious called CocoWhip. Now, I wouldn't suggest plopping this on your pumpkin pie because it's potently coconut flavored, but in something like Pistachio Salad? Perfectly dreamy!

The Pumpkin Pie got help from Wholly Wholesome's gluten-free and parve pie crust. Although it didn't get very crispy and the pie filling appears to have separated from the crust, it looks like Pumpkin Pie, and that's what matters.

The big sticking point for me here is going to be the turkey. Yes, it's pre-brined thanks to the kashering process, but there's still the whole need to cook and baste and perfect the turkey. I've never cooked a turkey in my life. I've watched plenty of them being made, but I've never had to do one myself. And, thanks to my hatred of stuffing and Alton Brown's crusade against stuffing your bird, I'm anxious about a hollow turkey cooking right. When to start? When's it done? Do I season it? Do I put anything in the spacious cavity? I've become a monster on Facebook and Google owns me.

But I'm sure it's all going to turn out okay. After all, the worst that can happen is my non-Jewish, non-kosher parents will look at my gluten-free, non-dairy kosher Thanksgiving, smile and head out to McDonalds whenever it opens. I honestly don't know how non-Jews feel about parve substitutes, let alone how carb-loaders feel about gluten-free fried onions (a classic) and pie crust (so tasty when it's chock full o' gluten).

Amid the stress, the love-hate balance, and attempting to cook with a sick babe, I have to say a big thanks and hallelujah for Manischewitz. Yes, I don't imagine you suspected this post to end with a big "Whoo Manischewitz!" plug, but here we are. The truth is, I did them a huge disservice. They were kind enough to send me their naturally gluten-free Vegetable Broth, Chicken Broth, and a can of Turkey Broth, and I was going to write an elaborate post with the recipes for my Thanksgiving goodies. Unfortunately, life got the better of me and here we are, the evening before Turkey Day and I'm finally saying "these products have made my life so much easier."

The Vegetable Stock actually made its way into some quinoa for Shabbat when we partook of more Terra Chip Tilapia with Roasted Mushrooms and Popcorn Cauliflower. The rest of the stock made its way into the gravy for the Green Bean Casserole, along with some of the Chicken Broth. The rest of the Chicken Broth and the Turkey Broth are going to be the basting goodness for my hopefully successful 14.5-pound beast in the fridge.

Without these broths, I probably would have defaulted to water like usual. I just don't keep broth or stock in the house anymore! Color me convinced that Manischewitz has a good thing going with their broths. It's an easy way to pack something full of flavor, and I'm sold!

Also from Manischewitz? The Do-it-Yourself Chanukah House! Okay, I thought I was way ahead of the curve and super progressive back in 2008 when I made my first Gingershul, but the Chanukah House has really upped the ante. Yes, you could go out and (like I did back then) buy a kosher-certified Gingerbread House kit, but the colors would be a little unfestive for Chanukah.

The Manischewitz kit has festively colored frosting and sprinkles, and it comes with a magen david, too! Talk about the kit with everything you need to make a real Gingershul.

I'm schlepping mine to Israel in mid-December when Ash and I go visit Mr. T (thanks to my gracious inlays) or else I'd show you my amazing constructing skills (oh, there will be pictures, but I won't be eating any because it isn't gluten free). But wouldn't you love to make one of your own?

Well, I'm giving away a Do-it-Yourself Chanukah House kit! The best part of this giveaway is that after you win the kit and build your own, you can snap a picture and enter a contest to win up to $500 (find out more below the giveaway)!

Rafflecopter
After you've designed your own Chanukah House (or Gingershul), snap a pic and upload the photo between December 9 and 23, 2014, to Manischewitz's Facebook page. The grand prize winner will receive $2,000, second prize gets $1,500, and third gets $500!! $500, second prize nabs $200, and third prize will get $150.

(Rules: You must be 18 or older to enter. Minors can submit their entry with parental permission using a parent's or guardian's email address. Additional materials like sprinkles, frosting, cookies, or candy can be used to enhance the design.)

Book Review: Chanukah and Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach

I've been on a bit of a Chanukah (c)hiatus this week while ironing out some new work that I'm really excited to be taking on and trying to have some time with the hubsters before the wee one shows up. The truth is that nothing I've planned has gone according to, which is just proof that planning is for the foolish!

The upside of a bit of downtime has been that I've been sleeping a lot and devouring books at a rate for which I'm quite proud.

For Chanukah my literature of choice has been The Soul of Chanukah: Teachings of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach (published by Mosaica Press) as compiled by Rabbi Shlomo Katz. Now that's two big names in one small chunk of sentence, and I have to say that this is one of the nicest looking books I've gotten for review in a while.

There are countless reasons why this book rocks, chief among them (according to Mr. T) being that it's in English. In Israel it's easy to land a lot of Rav Carlebach's work, but in Hebrew, which is awkward because most (if not all) of his morsels of wisdom were shared with the world in English. On that note, when it comes to morsels of wisdom in the form of divrei Torah or conversations, you want a concise book that is inspirational, powerful, and thought-provoking. This book is a mere 114 pages split into -- you guessed it -- eight chapters for eight nights, meaning that it's the perfect sit-and-learn option for Chanukah (so buy it for next year, why don't you?).

Unfortunately, the book only hit my post box midway through Chanukah, so I haven't completely devoured it yet, but what I've read will have me reading it well into the post-chag. But I want to give you an idea of the brilliance and inspired ideas that make Rav Carlebach such a prolific and unique individual.

Now, I refer to Rav Carlebach as "hippie dippie," which drives Mr. T nuts, but with my background and philosophy on Judaism, I often find it hard to relate to the "deeper" side of Judaism found in Hasidic teachings. Yes, I sit down every Friday night and read from a collection of Hasidic stories and found some of my greatest inspiration and peace in Judaism through Chabad and other Hasidic teachings, but I still don't get into the sit-in-a-circle and sing style of Judaism. It's just not in my fabric.

Lucky for me, I married a lover of Hasidic philosophy and understanding, so we find a lot of the same "aha" moments really powerful, just in different ways.

So after reading through Chapter 1, Shining Eyes, I had to share some of the tidbits with the husband because it screamed "Mr. T." This first chapter was all about how we're meant to perceive the world uniquely on Chanukah, especially because it's one holiday where we don't go out to greet the king, but the king (that's HaShem) comes into our homes to greet us. How much more special and meaningful is it that the king comes to us?! We're all commanded to light the chanukiyah (menorah for Chanukah) -- every man, woman, and child -- and the king is meant to come to our homes to check out our gnarly lights. It's like Justin Bieber showing up to taste your famous homemade waffles, if you need a ridiculous, modern reference to something that can't even begin to compare with what it's like to experience the presence of HaShem.

Also: Did you also realize that Chanukah is the one chag that we celebrate that actually took place in Jerusalem? Passover/Pesach was in Egypt, Purim was in Persia, and so on. Now that's a powerful reason to kindle the lights and experience the miracle.

One thing Mr. T is always kvetching about is how so many Jews (and people in general) are constantly asking "Mah magiah li?" or "What's in it for me?" instead of asking what can I provide, what can I do, where can I go? Rav Carlebach talks about how on Chanukah we're meant to look around and just take it in because we can't use the lights of the chanukiyah for anything, we can only enjoy them.

I can look at something and say, "Can I use it or can I not use it? Is it good for me or not?" Just like the spies said. But the fixing of Chanukah is that I'm not trying to use it for anything. I'm just so glad it's there.  ... The Torah of Chanukah is that I'm learning Torha, and I'm just looking at what I'm learning. No calculations, no expectations; I'm just looking at the light and I'm so glad it's there." (21)

That's some powerful, beautiful Torah right there. Chanukah, for Rav Carlebach, is all about how we look at the world, the people around us, the beautiful things that we are and are not doing. It's all about refocusing ourselves and reconsidering things, "fixing" as he says Chanukah by our perception.

There are moments where I can definitely see Rav Carlebach with guitar in hand calling something "deep" or talking about the "deepness" of Chanukah, which does make me giggle a bit, but whether you're into his style of Judaism or not, the morsels of Torah and truth in his vision are incredibly powerful.

I absolutely recommend this book, because the truth is this is one of those rare moments where I have nothing negative to say about it. Yes, mark your calendars, folks, because this is one book that will grace my shelves for years to come. It might even make for a Chanukah gift in the coming years.

Note: I received this book for review purposes, but my reviews remain honest, unbiased, and from the heart!

Happy Thanksgivukkah!

The great thing about this cartoon is that it reminds me of the people 

that drive around with the chanukiyah (menorah) on top of their cars!

On this most holy of days, two deliciously gluttonous holidays merge into one. Yes, even in Israel there are those of us who are celebrating Thanksgiving and Chanukah, with the latter being normative and the former being, well, odd considering it's the commemoration of a fake narrative of something that didn't really happen in America. 

But old habits die hard, and my darling English husband is willing to indulge those of us who jones for the classics. However, we are holding off to make our Thanksgivukkah a Shabbat experience, and we're pot-lucking with friends at our place with the turkey and all the fixins (don't worry, our kitchen is still vegetarian, we're getting creative to make this happen). 

On the menu? 

Turkey (a la Rebacks)

Streuseled Sweet Potato Casserole (Me)

Gluten-Free Green Bean Casserole (Me)*

Portobella Mushroom Rice (Rebacks)

Gravy (Rebacks)

Cranberry Sauce (Rebacks)

Latkes (Me, maybe ...)

Sufganiyot (store-bought, of course)

Raw Pumpkin Chai Spice Pie Bars (Me)

Quite the meal, no? And the awesomeness that is Mel will also be joining us with husband in tow providing our paper goods and all that goodness since our dishes are dairy and the meal is (obviously) meaty. 

I anticipate Shabbat lunch being quite the low-key affair (some kind of salmon dish and lots of salads). I also anticipate being comatose most of Saturday and Sunday as a result of the festivities. Baby hasn't left much room for food these days, unfortunately. What's a soon-to-be mama to do? Eat very slowly ... and scarf the leftovers!

Also: Tonight I'm celebrating Thanksgiving the way it was always meant to be celebrated ... with American football! Yes, Israel has its own American football league, called the IFL, and the coach of the illustrious Judean Rebels is none other than the husband (Coach!) of blogger Ruti. So tonight, it's all about the Chanukah Bowl. 

What's on your menu for Thanksgiving and/or Chanukah? Any special or unique traditions that your family absolutely abides by? 

*Green bean casserole has always been a standard in my family, and Thanksgiving simply isn't Thanksgiving without it. However, the days of canned cream of mushroom soup, French's fried onions, and frozen green beans are over for me, as it's all lacking in "gluten free" and non-dairy categories. So I've made my own homemade mushroom gravy, will be attempting some gluten-free "fried" onions (majorly modifying this one), and mixing it all up in the hopes that it comes out tasting like awesome. Stay tuned! 

Mr. T and Me: A Year Later

The man who changed it all. 

One year ago (on the Jewish calendar, that is), I met Mr. T at the top of Ben Yehuda for our very first date. It was the first night of Chanukah, a Saturday night. I lit my chanukiyah, made sure I looked awesome, and set off to meet a complete stranger with whom I'd only had a few email chats.

We schlepped around Ben Yehuda, Agrippas, and through Nachlaot in the chilly Jerusalem air, the both of us sniffling along the way. We talked about our past marriages, in a no-nonsense "this is what I can put up with, and this is what I need" way. We discussed how we got to where we are, our own unique paths that led us to being "religious" Jews. We talked about our travels, our talents, music, and everything else that came up organically, naturally throughout the night. It was a marathon date, the kind that lasts for hours.

It was incredibly late (or early) when we said our goodbyes. He had to work in a few hours, and I had, well, sleep to tackle.

What happened next was a whirlwind. Roughly 10 days later we worked out a chance for me to meet his son, iBoy. It was my requirement -- no "yes" to a proposal until I meet your son, which didn't stop Mr. T from proposing after our first date, our second date, and every date thereafter. He knew I'd say yes, I knew I'd say yes, but when you're bringing a child from the first marriage into the mix, it's a necessary formality.

Just a few days after our first date, I sent a picture of Mr. T to a friend, saying,

... he's perfectly imperfect and I think he's amazing.

I'd spent my whole life being chased by suitors. I was a tough one to wrangle, always independent and career-driven and destined for big things in New York City. I was pretty sure I was going to be single -- or at least unmarried -- for the rest of my life. Kids were not even a conversation. After getting married the first time around because it was time (I was 27 after all) and having one of the most confusing, depressing, and out-of-body experiences of my life, I was convinced the dream of singledom and a carefree baby-less life was back on, but this time in Denver. When I decided to make aliyah, I was open to the option of marriage, children ... happiness ... again. But I wasn't expecting a magical, miracle pill. 

I wasn't expecting this, I was definitely not expecting Mr. T. One date. Proposal. Ten Days later, engaged. Two months later, married. One month later, pregnant. 

After everything that has happened over the past month -- the ups, the downs, the twists and turns -- I can't say I would have wanted any other way. The financial and emotional challenges we've faced since meeting and getting married have, if anything, helped us figure out who we are as a couple, as a zivug. If my zivug sheni was granted from my merits, then boy oh boy I must have done something amazing so far to deserve such a life as this. 

I can't believe it's been a year since we first met. Looking back at everything that has happened baffles me, amazes me, makes me smile. No matter how bad things have gotten, the battle has always been worth fighting with Mr. T. And it all started with the longest date ever surrounded by the lights of the chanukiyah. 

Next up? Mr. T + C = Little Z

Book Review: Getting Kvetchy at Hanukkah

I am what you might call a bibliophile. I love books, I love collecting them, I lament having to part with them (which I did with so many during my divorce and aliyah to Israel), and when I look at our bookshelves at home there are a lot of seforim, but those belong to my dear husband Mr. T. I'm not about to start hoarding books again just to have a fine balance between his and hers, but it is nice getting new books, reviewing books, and finding new authors to kvell over.

Recently Mr. T was in Jerusalem with a friend of his looking for benschers (the little books that Jews use before and after meals and on Shabbat that have songs and the prayers over food and drink) at M. Pomeranz Bookseller, a staple store owned by a couple that made aliyah to Israel more than 20 years ago. 

While there, Mr. T spotted a book: The KvetchiT: A Hanukkah Tale by Larry Butchins. He absolutely had to have it for me because I am, after all, the Kvetching Editor. Surprise surprise he brought it home and I sat reading it last night.

The premise is cute, and it makes me wonder who comes up with these things (but in a good, not judgey way, of course). The story is narrated by a grandfather figure named Samuel who starts with the historic dilemma of the people at the rededication of the temple. The people are kvetching and kvetching that they don't have any oil, and although the common miracle we hear of is the oil lasting for eight nights, the miracle we don't hear of is the creation of the the KvetchiT -- a fuzzy, little three-eyed creature who feeds on kvetches. But once the kvetching over the oil stops, the KvetchiT is at a loss because he needs the kvetches to survive. He hides away in a cave and falls fast asleep.

The story zips ahead hundreds of years when a boy named Samuel finds him (does the name ring a bell?) and hears the story and agrees to help record the 20 greatest kvetches for the KvetchiT to live on. The story brings us back to the present where one of Samuel's grandchildren receives a unique gift of family tradition (and kvetching).

It definitely takes kvetching to a unique, new level of cuteness, and the illustrations are very traditional in the style of "religious" Jewish books, but not aggressively so (don't worry, you won't find the mom in a full-body coverup). I'm just bummed that the 20 greatest kvetches collected in the story are only available on cassette. Who has a cassette player?! Not this chick. I eagerly await their release in MP3 or CD format.

You can buy the book from Pomeranz for pennies, folks, and this would make a very cute gift for a child or a particularly kvetchy adult.

Do you have a favorite children's Chanukah book? A particularly excellent kvetch that you think the kvetch could live FOREVER on? With a wee one on the way, I'm eager to start collecting gobs of children's books!

Note: The book reviews I'm doing for Pomeranz are honest, as all of my product and book reviews are, but the books are being given to me at no cost for review. 

When Life is Happening

Oh hello blog. Long time no talk. This is what happens when I'm busy actually living my life, I guess, right? The blog slowly takes a back seat to everything else. I've been dealing with graduate degrees and jobs and marriage and everything that falls in between. Never before has the blog taken a random and unforgiving lull.

So what to say? Well, the past week or so has been filled with lots of work, purchasing my first Jerusalem-style chanukiyah (aka one in a box to be displayed outside), an excellent Shabbat with "family" in Ramat Bet Shemesh, a few amazing dates, my attendance at TEDxJerusalem, two major falls that busted up my knee royally, and my first-ever attempt at making my own gluten-free sufganiyot (aka fried jelly donuts).

Yum-my. Recipe can be found here. 

Check out my fancy chanukiyah!

My life seems much more easily documented in images these days than in text, which is a weird change for me. But pictures, you see, are so much easier to capture and post. I envision elaborate posts about every little emotion I'm experiencing, but I'm currently in a place where I'm really enjoying my own emotions in the privacy of my own space. That's a new thing, right?

So, keep tabs on my Instagram for quite literally up-to-the day (if not hour) updates on what's going on. I'm going to try to get better about posting here, but there is just absolutely too many amazing things happening in real life for me to post about right now.

Stay tuned!

A Nutty Giveaway

It's that time of year again, where I get a delicious sampling of my favorite nut and candy shop's tastiest Chanukah treats, which also means it's that time of year where you, my lovely readers -- in the United States and Israel -- get a chance to win your own Chanukah nosh from Oh!Nuts.

The Chanukah gift I received was the 3-Section Ceramic Gift Tray, although the truth is that it didn't come looking like this at all! The tray wasn't ceramic, and the treats given weren't exactly what's pictured either. (I'm guessing this is because in Israel the products cannot be as standardized as they are in the U.S. where Oh!Nuts is based.) However, I was pleased with what arrived. The chocolate was divine and creamy, the nuts were salty and hit the spot when I was in need of snacking.

So here's the rundown on instructions to win here on Just Call Me Chaviva.

1. Visit the Oh!Nuts Chanukah gifts page, and choose your favorite gift.
2. Come back here, and comment with your chosen's URL and name (and anything else you want to add).
3. I wil pick a random winner on December 6 who will receive a $25 gift certificate to Oh!Nuts!

Here are some other ways to win free goodies, too.

• Visit the Oh!Nuts Facebook page and post on their wall with the URL and name of your favorite Chanukah gift paired with "I am here via www.kvetchingeditor.com!"
• Follow @OhNuts on Twitter and be sure to tweet: "Win a free Chanukah gift from @OhNuts http://bit.ly/6nIsCi! Follow and RT to enter!"

Also, head over and buy your own favorite Chanukah gift today (Monday, November 26, 2012) and use code APFS12 at checkout to receive free shipping on orders over $50!

Ready, set, enter to win!

Chanukah: 2003-Now

A Novel Idea Bookstore, Lincoln, NE || 2011

Back in 2003, at the urging of a friend, I went to A Novel Idea Bookstore -- my third favorite used bookstore of all time after Myopic in Chicago and the Antiquarium in Brownsville, NE -- and down the rickety stairs to this section pictured above: Judaica. It was there that I first bought Choosing a Jewish Life by Anita Diamant, and it was in front of this shelf of used books that my neshama arose from a weary sleep. The fire continues to burn bright, its shades of orange and red and yellow and amber waxing and waning each day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight years ago, the first night of Chanukah fell on December 20; it was a Saturday. At that time, I wrote a lot about my dislike for Christmas and how it made me feel, and I kvelled about probably the first "Jewish" gift ever given to me, by my friend Melanie. It was a musical dreidel. I was a sophomore in college in Lincoln, Nebraska, and I knew I would be Jewish.

Seven years ago, the first night of Chanukah fell on December 7. By that point, I was a Jewish knowledge and observance machine. On December 6, I hopped on a city bus and schlepped over to a Walgreens near the Reform synagogue in order to buy my first menorah. It was a huge, important, ridiculous event for me. The next day, on the first day of Chanukah, I wrote:

Happy Hanukkah everyone! I bought my menorah, lit my candles, said my blessings, and then made some cookies that are shaped like driedels, megandavids, Judah Maccabee, shields, etc. Then I iced them, sprinkled them with blue and yellow sprinkles and brought them down to work. They were literally gone in about 5 minutes. Everyone crowded around them ... it was an amusing sight. Interestingly enough, though, I recieved an e-mail from DAN, the PRES of HILLEL, at 5:45 (though I didn't get it till tihs evening) that they will be lighting a menorah in the J.D. Edwards Kaufman building (where just about every Jew on campus lives ... the "super honors program") each night of Hanukkah. ... Although I don't have the blessing memorized ... mrr. They know I'm a Jew-in-training anyhow. Heh. Did I mention that my Jews in the Modern World prof (Alan Steinweis) played the VIDLIT Yiddish lesson in class today. Oh man ... it was hilarious. I think I enjoyed it more than the rest of the class. Then again, I have a passion for the Yiddish. 

On December 9, 2004, I wrote:

Tonight, after lighting candles with Dan, Cliff and Sari in Kauffman hall ... I definately felt a part of something there with them. Lonely Jews in Nebraska, ha. But Dan sang the blessing beautifully ... Sari lit the candles, and Cliff and I stared on. It was good times.

Shortly thereafter I started working on a paper on why I want to be Jewish for the then-rabbi of the synagogue who subsequently left. I waited another nine months for another rabbi to work with me, and by then I'd mastered so much. I converted Reform in April 2006 and in December 2006 I was in Washington D.C. for Chanukah; I made this video and wrote a lot of blog posts. 

Back in 2007, Chanukah was incredibly awesome, and then Christmas came and it was bad. A little old man accosted me while I was busy at work at the Spertus Museum's open house for Jews on Christmas. If you want to read it, I think it can give you some insight into what it's like to be a non-Orthodox convert.
And then? From 2008 up until last year, I was in Israel for Chanukah. It was a unique, mind-boggling experience where I felt so much like myself. No Christmas tunes, no expectations, just lots of latkes and sufganiyot and chanukiot everywhere. Walking up and down alleyways, menorahs dotted doorways and boxes outside of homes, parks and squares, restaurants even stopped what they were doing to light. In Israel, Chanukah feels right. In America? It feels strange. 
Perhaps it's because for the first time in so many years I'm back where I began, in Lincoln, Nebraska. Estranged from my mother, without a chanukiah, no latkes, no sufganiyot, nowhere to go. So for the sake of memory, I think, I might go over to that same Walgreens where I purchased my first chanukiah and buy another. Maybe when I get home I'll make Chanukah cookies or try out this Gluten-Free Sufganiyot recipe, but at least I'll be there with my chanukiah and my Jewish troll doll and all of my Judaica and my sunrise over the desert in Israel. 
It all began while I was living in Lincoln -- my Jewish journey, that is -- but it never stopped here, and I think that I've worn away all the memory that's here.