This week we begin the observance of Hanukka, the eight-day festival of lights that celebrates the survival of Judaism when it was under assault in the second century BCE by the Syrian Greek overlords of Judea. While another holiday (Purim) celebrates the survival of the Jewish people, Hanukka recalls a time when there was an attempt to prohibit Judaism itself.

While we recall the determination of the Maccabees in defending Jewish religion, we often forget the internal strife that existed among those Jews of the time. There were those who sought to assimilate into the wider culture, those who tried with varying degrees of success to integrate the two cultures, and those who drew high boundaries around Jewish identity and saw any attempt at engagement with the larger culture as treacherous, even treasonous.

From what we can tell, the Maccabees seem to have been largely drawn from the last category, those who would tolerate no compromise with the larger culture.

Some two millennia later, American Jews face the inevitable opportunity and challenge of living in two civilizations, the general/western/American one and the Jewish one. Certain seasons, such as Thanksgiving, provide a context in which full participation does not challenge Jewish identity. But following close on that holiday comes the overwhelming, commercially driven, and culturally dominant observance of Christmas. It is in the shadow of that omnipresent event that Jews light their hanukkiot, affirming Jewish identity and uniqueness in the midst of a majority culture that coalesces around Christmas.

The relationship of Jews to the December holiday season has been complex. Earlier generations of American Jews often engaged in some form of secular celebration of Christmas, replete with holiday trees. An alternative response was the elevation of what had been (and from the point of view of Jewish law remains) a minor holiday into a position of prominence. Hanukka became one of the three major observances that demographers define as nearly universal among those who identify as Jews (along with the Passover seder and the Yom Kippur fast).

Rabbis, religious school teachers, Jewish communal professionals, and lay leaders have routinely railed against the elevation of Hanukka to "the Jewish Christmas,” but to no avail. In a curious and ironic inversion of the origins of the Hanukka story, we often find the menora alongside the Christmas tree in the public square, the public school, and the shopping centers of America. A holiday that the official leaders declare to be minor is recognized by the non-Jewish population as definitive, and by many within the Jewish community as essential.

From a halachic perspective Hanukka is a minor festival (carrying few prohibitions, and permitting all of the activities that are prohibited on Shabbat and major holidays like Pesach and Sukkot). But from a popular perspective these eight days in December have become a major festival in terms of identity and enjoyment. Once again, the will of the Jewish community has elevated those observances that rabbinic tradition would have preferred either to avoid, or at least minimize. (Purim is another example where the popular will overcame the anxieties of the rabbinic leaders.)

In a society where the omnipresence of Christmas can be overwhelming to a Jewish youngster, the ability to find in Jewish tradition a seasonal holiday which offers ritual, song, family time, and special foods should be supported, not criticized.

In terms of the three perspectives suggested above, most American Jews who identify affirmatively seek both to preserve a sense of Jewish identity and to participate fully in the wider culture. This is not an easy job in an open society with few external forms of discrimination against Jews.

Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan described Hanukka as an example of how Jews might learn the art of assimilation. Assimilation can be positive or negative; if we absorb into Jewish life those elements of the larger culture which can strengthen Jewish life, assimilation is positive. If we mimic those aspects of the wider culture that are neither compatible with Jewish tradition, nor helpful in strengthening Jewish life, then assimilation is negative.

Hanukka should be a joyous time, enriched and elaborated through story, song, and symbols. The issue essentially is one of kavana, or intention. If our kavana for Hanukka is the celebration of being Jewish, of teaching the significance of keeping the light burning, and of ensuring the "dedication” (which is what "Hanukka” means) of future generations to Jewish life, our observance, however elaborate, will be positive.

If, conversely, our kavana is to mimic the commercialism and secularity of Christmas, or to merge the two holidays into one, our observance will be negative.

Jewish history creates shifts in what the Jewish people come to see as central. There was a time, for example, when Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, while significant, did not have the magnetic attraction and appeal that draws Jews back to synagogue, if only for a few days a year. Yet few rail against the elevation of the High Holy Days.

Similarly, the conditions of American Jewish life have made Hanukka a "major” holiday. We should not try and talk American Jews out of enjoying this holiday by urging them to remember it is a "minor” holiday. We should instead use the opportunity Hanukka presents to celebrate Judaism and strengthen Jewish identity.