First Comes Courage

First Comes Courage

Rabbi J.B. Sacks- Delivered Dec 1    ,2023

 A Jewish proverb teaches, “When you have no choice, mobilize the spirit of courage.” Pretty much all Israelis and all of us Jews have had to at least try to mobilize our “spirit of courage” since the October 7 attacks against Israel and the antisemitic attacks that have arisen in the wake of those attacks. The war is ongoing, and there is no lack of courage displayed by so many.

It is appropriate that we consider this as we prepare to celebrate Hanukkah beginning this coming Thursday night. So I ask: Which act of courage stands out for you in the Hanukkah story?

For me, it was an act of Mattathias. He was a priest from the rural town of Modi’in. He served in the Jerusalem Temple, but returned home in 167 B.C.E. after the Seleucid Greek ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes enacted persecutions against the practice of Judaism. The Seleucid Greek officials in Modi’in set up altars to the Greek gods in the public square, and required Jews to come and show obeisance to them and their gods. When the first Jew went, Mattathias went and killed him, and then he turned and killed the Greek officials administering the altar area. He then shouted, “Whoever is zealous for Torah and supports the covenant, come with me!”[1] Mattathias took his five sons and went to the Gophna Hills, where he immediately set up headquarters to begin the guerilla-type warfare to fight against the Syrian Greek tyranny.

I do not picture Mattathias as reacting impulsively, out of anger or contempt. Rather, I picture him as having planned the insurrection, and employed his thoughtful courage at precisely the right time. This is the courage of a lion, and his act sent a message to his fellow Jews that they did indeed have other options than to quietly capitulate. As a community leader, he put the government’s scrutiny directly on himself and his family, thus giving cover and encouragement to others. As a politico-religious figure, he clearly sent a message that Judaism consisted of more than mere rituals, as precious as they might be. But because there was much more, giving up a Jewish way of life was already a death of both the mind and spirit.

If not for Mattathias, there would be no rebellion. And without the rebellion, there would be no Hanukkah, no miracle of the oil–and our collective story would be, if not over, then quite different. Instead, one single courageous act of one man rescued an entire people from ignominy and oblivion.

No wonder that it is Mattathias, and not Judah Maccabee or any other key Hanukkah personality, who merits explicit mention in the insertions into the Amidah (central daily prayer) and the Birkat HaMazon (blessing after meals) recited throughout this Festival of Thoughtful Courage.

Whence Mattathias’ courage? His act reminds me of the incident record in Herodotus’ history of the Greek wars. One Athenian soldier was lame, and some of his fellow soldiers laughed at him because of his disability. After trying to tolerate their derision for a while, he finally could stand it no longer. He silenced them, asserting, “I am here to fight and not to run.”

This evinces the same spirit as Mattathias, and it is the animating philosophy of all those who have the courage of their convictions:

This was the courage of the first surgeon who dared to cut into a heart in order to repair it.

This was the courage of the first psychiatrist who plunged into the dark pit of the emotions and opened a new door of healing for the emotionally struggling.

This was the courage of

  • the first airplane pilot;
  • the first person to let a mosquito bite their arm to test an anti-malaria drug;
  • the first printer to set type for a free press;
  • the first person to call for a strike for living working conditions in the sweat shop;
  • the first person to break through a glass ceiling that broadened our human understanding;
  • the first person to challenge traditional ideas, norms, and values–not to undermine them but to rescue them and elevate them;
  • the first person to say to their family member or friend, “Enough already;”

and all the “firsts” that have helped our lives become more productive, more soulful, and more worthwhile.

That outlook, that fortitude, that grit, can sustain us. As Charles Reznikoff wrote in his poem, “Hanukkah,”[2]

 

…The miracle, of course, was not that the oil for the sacred light–

            in a little cruse–lasted as long as they say;

            but that the courage of the Maccabees lasted to this day;

            let that nourish my flickering spirit.

 

Mattathias’ example thus reminds us that courage is the first lesson in the advancement of life. For all of us in the wake of the Hamas attacks are here to fight and not to run.

 

May this Hanukkah remind us that we are all descendants of Mattathias.

May this Hanukkah we find that the lights of the candles

ignite our hearts with clarity of purpose.

May this Hanukkah inflame us with thoughtful courage.

 

Hag ha-urim samei-ah! A joyful, thoughtful, and courageous Hanukkah!

 

 

[1] 1 Maccabees 2:27.

[2] Reprinted in Rubin, Steven J. Celebrating the Jewish Holidays: Poems, Stories, Essays. Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 2003, p. 228.

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