The Menorah’s Lesson Against Conformity

12/27/24

Do Jews believe that they're the Chosen Nation? That's quite bigoted, isn't it?

Recently, social media has been filled with antisemites magnifying texts from the Torah, Talmud, and other Jewish sources that, in their limited understanding, seem to express Jewish supremacy.

While most of these quotes are taken entirely out of context, it should surprise nobody that any single religious group thinks their faith is the ultimate one. If it weren’t superior, why be dedicated to following it? It’s not like the only cost of being Jewish is gaining some extra pounds on Chanukah!

The truth is, that by comparison, Jewish texts are incomparably more favorable toward Gentiles than other religions’ texts are toward Jews.

Many Christians, for example, believe that Jews will go to hell for not believing in Jesus. Similarly, Muslims believe that everyone in the world should accept Mohammad as Allah’s prophet, and let's just say that their texts aren't very favorable toward Jews.

Jews, on the other hand, do not believe that Gentiles go to Hell, nor do we proselytize. To be a good person, according to Judaism, one does not need to be a Jew. A Christian and Muslim fulfill their mission in this world by being good and practicing Christians and Muslims!

So, comparably, Jews believing in a Chosen Nation is a modest offense that really shouldn’t bother anybody. And do they really want to be chosen anyway when it comes with all the side perks?

The only thing that should really matter is that we all treat each other with respect and dignity. That should be the sole litmus test on the ethics of religious doctrines. And if that’s the test, Jews score a home run.

Tonight, we light the third candle of the Menorah and have yet another opportunity to learn a lesson from Chanukah. As Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch would say, "We must listen to what the candles have to share."

We light a Menorah with eight branches. A Menorah with one branch would not be kosher. We’ve got to have eight individual branches, each extending in a different direction: center, left, further left, far left. Right, further right, far right.

A Menorah that has only one branch would not be a Menorah. And a people that all share the same thoughts would not be a people. The Menorah is a metaphor for humanity.

It’s easy to be so sure of our own outlook and opinions that we might disregard and lose respect for people who think differently. The Menorah, then, is here to keep us in check, reminding us that conformity is not the solution. One branch is no good—we need eight.

But the Torah writes a fascinating law about the Menorah that stood in the Temple: "Bhaalotecha et haneirot el mul pnei hamenora yairu shivat haneirot"—all the wicks of the branches were to face the center branch.

While there are, and there ought to be, eight different branches, there is one condition. The wicks must face the center branch. The flames must all face the same direction.

Muslims, Christians, and Jews all have their own ways of practicing their faith. Progressives, centrists, and conservatives all have their own politics. And that’s fine. It’s not only fine—it’s great. One branch would be no good.

But there’s a caveat. While your branch stands apart, let your wick lean toward the other candles, treating everyone with respect and dignity. 

Stand proud with your beliefs, unapologetic and tall, commands us the Menorah. Don’t shy from your heritage because it’s unpopular, and don’t cower because you’re afraid. Be a proud branch, confidently shining into the night.

But remember to face the other candles, the Menorah pleads. Look them in the eye, it begs.

For it is through our differences, that we are ultimately one.