A Very OMfG Christmas (Wait, what?)

Hey there, my name is Rabbi Jodi Gordon, and I'm pumped to be joined by Rabbi Jen Gubitz as we welcome you to the OMFG podcast, Jewish wisdom for unprecedented times. Hey, Jen.

Hey, Jodi. OMFG, what a fabulous four-letter word. Those four letters always do the trick. From OMFG, Hanukkah is already over. To OMFG, how is it almost 2022? To OMFG, am I going to consume a lot of Chinese food on Christmas Eve? As rabbis, we have come to know that when the stories of our lives meet the stories of Jewish tradition, transformation, growth, something awesome occurs.

Jen and I are experts in the letters J and G. Email away messages. Podcasting. I feel like, fair enough, it's been over a year now. And autocorrect failures. And we want to bring you into our conversations that express our love for Judaism and make it relevant in the world as we mine Jewish wisdom for strength and resilience in these still unprecedented times with a dose of humor. Because as American humorist Irma Bombeck says, "When humor goes, there goes civilization." Oy, Jodi, can you believe it's almost Christmas and New Year's?

O-M-F-G.

I know. I mean, side note, I realized today that 2021 is for sure the longest year of my life yet. January 2021 feels like a millennia ago. And so to warm us up, how about a quick round of favorite things to do on Christmas Eve? Jen, get us started.

Chinese food. You?

Uh, I'm medium on Chinese food, but, uh, an absolute must-have is viewing the movie Home Alone.

Oh, yes. Yes. I recently read that you can, I think, rent the home now.

You can on Airbnb.

Oh, it's—

Which it's possible that Brandeis alum of a certain generation may be looking to do together one of these days soon. There's something I want to say about Home Alone, though, because I feel like my friends and I were earlier adapters. And now it does seem like everyone knows that Home Alone is the movie you watch on Christmas Eve. And it's everywhere. And you can buy— sweaters that say, Merry Christmas, you filthy animal. But I would just like to say that the extended Brandeis Yenta family, so shout out to all of those folks, we've been watching Home Alone on Christmas Eve, I think since 2002. We have been ordering a large cheese pizza just for me, preferably from someplace gross like Domino's, and really just leaning in. So that is my forever and always Christmas Eve plan.

Well, I just texted with Macaulay Culkin, and he sends his love. I mean, something else I love to do. Yeah, right. I know. Something else I loved to do growing up on Christmas Eve is I wanted to stay up as late as I could because I wanted to look out the window to see if Santa was coming to my friends' and neighbors' houses. And I think I had this hope that I could verify for them that it was true.

So in some ways, this is like the difference between you and me. Because I grew up in a— I mean, the town that I grew up in was the seat of the Archdiocese of Long Island. And I feel, at least in memory, completely clueless to what was going on for my friends and neighbors during Christmas. Like, I didn't do that. And maybe this is where my parents get like extra bonus points for like raising their Jewish children so completely unaware of the world that like I just didn't care. But it was like, I knew about Christmas and like we sang all the Christmas songs that, you know, the winter concert, etc. But I don't, I don't feel like I had like any concept of like knowing or caring what was going on next door in literally every direction on my block as far as Christmas went. But that's just me being clueless.

Where I grew up was called— that would— Clueless would be another great movie to watch on Christmas Eve.

Clueless is a great movie to watch literally any day of the year.

Always, always. Um, I grew up in a city that's nickname was City of Churches, so on Christmas Eve We actually went to churches and helped babysit for kids so that their parents could go to mass. And then on the high holy days, their grown-ups would come. I love that. I know, and teens would come to us. And I definitely sat through some masses. I had a couple of friends whose parents were pastors. And it was, you know, I knew it was like their holiday and I could help them celebrate it. And then the next day we would go to our family friends, the Webber's house for an un-Christmas party. So a mix of Jewish Christmas and Christmas Christmas.

Totally.

And always excited, always excited for my friends when it snowed on Christmas.

Well, so the only other thing I would add to our like, what did you ever do on Christmas story is that for much of my childhood, we would drive down to Florida to see my grandparents for the entirety of Christmas break in Boca Raton, you know, of course. And one of the things we would do is we would go to— and maybe if we have listeners in Florida, you can like clarify if this is just one of those like, yeah, of course, everyone knows what that is. Or if— I don't know, it seems more obscure in my mind. But we went to a place called Lantana to see the Christmas lights. And there was like a big Christmas tree in Lantana. And like, my memory is fuzzy. But like my very deeply Jewish grandparents were very excited to like make one of the nights of our visit like the night we went to see the Lantana Christmas tree. So If anyone can provide more information about Lantana, Florida and its Christmas tree, we'll be happy to hear about it.

I really want to do some research on Lantana. I want to do a deep dive to understand it. We had a beautiful light Santa on the side of a building too. So that resonates with me. But this is such, you know, why are we talking about Christmas? Not only because it's still 2 weeks away when we're recording on December 13th and it's been a long December. Thank you, counting crowds.

And there's reason to believe.

But also there's reason to believe that this year will be that better than the last.

God willing.

Next—

goddess willing.

God's will. Yeah, goddess willing. Um, but what we really wanted to talk about today was the following, which is All I Want for Christmas Is a Christmas Tree, aka Christmas and the Jews. Jodi, some folks do have this dream. Do you have this dream of having a Christmas tree in your home?

I honestly don't, and I don't begrudge anyone who does. And I live in this place where like Christmas is beautiful. Stockbridge, Massachusetts, which like the main street is the Norman Rockwell painting, is incredibly beautiful and like idyllic and pastoral to drive through right now. And I had a drink last week with my friend and colleague Rabbi Neil Hirsch in front of the Christmas tree at the Red Lion Inn. Like, it doesn't get any more Christmasy than that. I'm like, I'm good. I'm good, like, visiting Christmas. I'm okay not having one in my house. What about you?

So growing up, we had a sukkah that didn't come down until April, so I can't really imagine the logistics. And it only came down because the nature of our world— wind brought it down. So I really can't imagine the logistics of A, schlepping a Christmas tree back to my house or carrying it up the stairs. And certainly I'm imagining it, if I did get one into my house, rotting in the corner. And I just don't think that the benefits would outweigh all of the struggle. It's a question though, because a lot of kids, a lot of people who grow up Jewish do want one. There's something about this season that they want to bring home. They want to bring the cozy, um, warmth of the holiday, of the yule log, of the smell of pine needles into their home. And it's also this interesting moment where a lot of rabbis and a lot of Jews find themselves upset around this time of year because America turns into Christmas World. Christmas carols start playing in stores on November 1st. I happen to know many lyrics to Christmas songs. I love them. Starbucks brings out their peppermint flavors just after Sukkot, and Christmas trees and manger scenes are put up in the public square. And the capitalist consumerist ways of the world push us towards the merry and bright Christmas season of excessive shopping and gift-giving, even if we don't celebrate.

Well, and the thing that really upsets rabbis, although many won't say this publicly, but they'll sort of Grinch grumble under their breath, is that this is often the time of year when we discover that people who we thought were Jewish in every way actually, or also, celebrate Christmas.

So why are some Jews so grinchy about Christmas? And what role has Christmas played in the life of the Jewish people throughout history?

And so, a little research, friends. A quick historical dive into Jews and Christmas. The year is 1895. It's December 24th. And we find ourselves in the home of Theodor Herzl, the founder of Zionism.

OMG, seriously?

Seriously?

Yeah, seriously. So this is discussed in Rabbi Joshua Eli Plaut's book, A Kosher Christmas. Side note: Plaut is the nephew of Gunther Plaut, whose Torah commentary is used in many synagogues still today. So in Plaut's Kosher Christmas book, we learn about this moment of Herzl writing the following in his diary. I kind of imagine this as the Jimmy Fallon moment when he's writing thank you notes. So some sort of soundtrack is playing, and Herzl writes this, quote, "I was just lighting the Christmas tree for my children when Guttmann arrived. He seemed upset by the Christian custom.

Well, I will not let myself be pressured, but I don't mind if they call it the Hanukkah tree or the winter solstice." So Herzl is talking about Vienna's rabbi, Moritz Guttmann, who pays a visit to discuss ideas for the publication of Judenstaat, Herzl's primary work on the founding of a Jewish state, and Rabbi Guttmann is not so excited to see Herzl's living room all lit up for Christmas.

This is like kind of what happens when a lot of rabbis, especially with this Zoom moment now, could see people's homes. Totally. Turns out people have been living lives that we didn't know about. And this past 2 years are the first times that many of us have actually been able to see into one another's homes. So it also turns out that Herzl is not unique. Christmas was celebrated all over Western Europe, especially in Germany, including in the home of Gershom Scholem, an esteemed scholar of Jewish mysticism. Scholem remembers his parents creating a festive mood in their Berlin home on Christmas Eve, enhanced considerably by the inclusion of a Christmas tree. And under the tree was, ironically, a photograph of Theodor Herzl in a black frame, given lovingly to Sholem by his parents, who knew how much Gershom admired Herzl and Zionism.

If you will it, it is no dream.

Or is it like, if you will it, it is no tree? Oh, if you will it— that is very funny.

So in addition to his massive resume in the world of Jewish mysticism, Sholem also wrote about how Christmas was celebrated in his family. With a roast goose or hare, a decorated Christmas tree which his mother bought at the market by St. Peter's Church, and of course, presents.

Scholem's parents explained why they celebrated Christmas, and it may feel similar to some. In short, they saw Christmas as a German national holiday celebrated by all German citizens, including Jews. And perhaps unsurprisingly, Scholem loved Christmas until he began to study Hebrew and started to have some questions. He eventually realized that his Jewish identity was not consistent with the presence of any form of home-oriented Christmas celebration.

And this was actually pretty typical of life in the late 19th and early 20th century across Europe. It was all about fitting in. One of my favorite quotes, Moses Mendelssohn famously said, "To be a Jew in the home and a German on the streets." I think we all know how that setup has been reused in other ways, but there's clearly this caveat because during Christmas, it seems, many were also Germans in their homes. And that's not to say that there wasn't some ambivalence, but by and large, Germans really felt like they could separate the cultural and religious aspects of the holiday, which is also not to say that all German Jews celebrated Christmas. Many families did refuse to adopt German Christmastime customs, but for decades in Germany, formal photographs would often portray large affluent Jewish families posing in front of a decorated Christmas tree. The Berlin Jewish Museum even shows a full-scale replica of a room of a pre-war German Jewish home with a Christmas tree centrally placed.

Of course, we moderns know what happened next, and I'm not suggesting that assimilation or Christmas celebrations led directly to this. Of course, but those glorious days of emancipation and modernization and assimilation were short-lived. They were rapidly replaced with decades of devastating extermination, and for those who survived, immigration of Jews who would bring with them to this new world stories and traditions from generation upon generation of European Jews past.

So, quick sidebar, and Jen, I shared this with you last week on Facebook, but I saw this incredible story that the American Holocaust Museum posted just last week about a family where the father was a professional photographer. You know, what he did in the early 20th century was he took family portraits and formal photographs at the time, and he was hired to create the, I guess, the ad for a department store, a local department store, for their, for a Christmastime advertisement. And so he, he used his own children as the models, right? So this beautiful Christmas scene, decorated Christmas tree, and his own two children in the photograph that then gets and it's published in the newspaper, right, as like an ad to go to this particular store. And a couple of years later, I think it was in 1938, maybe early 1939, this family starts to see the writing on the wall of what it means to be Jewish in sort of Nazi Germany, and they falsify their papers and go to make their escape, and they're stopped at the border, and they're questioned, and the Nazi soldier is looking over their paperwork and looking at them and says, you know, basically like, "Are you sure? Like, are you Jewish?" And he said, "No, of course not." And he pulls out this photograph of his children in front of a Christmas tree and says, you know, like, "Look at this beautiful photo of my kids celebrating Christmas." And that is what, you know, sort of gets them out and saves their lives, this photograph of his children in front of a Christmas tree, which I think is— that's just an amazing story that sort of puts all of this into this interesting and complicated context. But Let's talk about what happens to those Jews when they come to America. So on the one hand, you have the refugees from Eastern Europe who more often tried to maintain traditional Jewish observance. And then there were some Western European Jews who come here and they continue to cultivate their observance of Christmas, even in synagogues. And this is an amazing story. There's a story that at Temple Shaare Emeth in St. Louis, it was proposed that not only should Jews celebrate Christmas, but that Hanukkah too should also always be marked on the 25th of December. Perhaps may be relevant to its Hebrew date of the 25th of Kislev.

I wonder, you know, St. Louis is famous for its fried ravioli.

Really?

So I'm assuming that would have been— yeah, I know, right? Um, that would have been the cuisine for sure for Christmas at Share Emeth in St. Louis. So not only St. Louis, but Dr. Emil G. Hirsch of Chicago's Zion Temple reportedly encouraged his congregants to observe Christmas as a great holiday and Jesus as a great Jew. In Dayton, Rabbi Louis Witt argued in 1939 that Christians had become more liberal in their teachings, which accentuated the universal humanness of Jesus and his teachings rather than any specific religious doctrine. So, for Witt, celebrating Christmas meant meeting the Christian on common ground, leading him to conclude, "I say then as a rabbi, thank God for Christmas." So what do you think? Yay or nay? Thank God or not so much for Christmas and Christmas trees in Jewish homes?

Okay, so I'm gonna evade the question and answer it with another question. I mean, I say thank God for Christmas and for the people for whom Christmas is meaningful, for it to be a celebration of all that it stands for. But every good Jewish question is followed by more questions. So on the topic of the tree, Jen, I don't know, what do you think?

I plan also to evade the question. Because I think we need to look at the rest of the story. I happen to love twinkly lights, and I do love that smell of pine. I also went to Presbyterian preschool, and as I shared earlier, I have so many fond memories of Christmas Day and helping Christian friends celebrate. But the history of Christmas and the Jews is not entirely wrapped up in a bow.

It's true. As you might expect, the modern-day Jewish experience of December 24th and December 25th is far different from the Jewish people's experience historically of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Things were not always Chinese food and a movie, MSG and MGM, so tasty and relaxing. This evening was not always jolly and jingling. Rather, in the Middle Ages, it was considered far safer to stay inside with other Jews playing games and eating a matzo ball than by going out to the matzo ball to meet other single Jews. While their neighbors were celebrating, the Jewish community of Europe experienced more violence on Christmas Eve and Easter too than most other nights of the year.

Antisemitism in the name of Christian faith at that time meant that December 24th was not a silent night for Jews, but one of fear. In researching this a few years ago, it interested me to learn that Christmas Eve actually had a name in Ashkenazi Jewish tradition, and that name was Nittel Nacht.

And what does Nittel Nacht mean?

Well, I'm so glad you asked. I learned this from a piece by Rabbi Aryeh Leibowitz at Yeshiva University. So Nacht, we know, means night in German. Gute Nacht, good night. And while the etymology for Niddel is a bit less definitive, it appears actually in scholarly works by Rishonim, the generation of rabbis from the Middle Ages. Roughly, Niddel refers in some way to the life of Jesus. It might even refer to how Jesus died. Jesus was taken from this world, natul, or in the way that he died, attached to a crucifix. The word for hanging in Hebrew is "nitleh." I don't mean to make light of that, but really to show the way that the Hebrew name accentuates sort of the meaning of the day. Also, the Latin word for birthday is "natalis," an observance, an obvious reference to Jesus's birth.

So "Niddle Nacht" means basically "Jesus night." So this custom evolved for Jews to refrain from Torah study on Christmas Eve. There's all this responsa literature that gives a lot of reasons for this custom, including keeping Jews off the streets on a night when anti-Jewish behavior sparked by this age-old belief in Jewish deicide might occur.

So some people still observe December 24th by staying inside, playing games, maybe even studying Torah in order to keep themselves safe by staying connected only to the Jewish community.

Oof.

That's a lot. It's a lot of history to hang on one Christmas tree. Our Jewish world is nowhere univocal on this matter because our Jewish community is vast. There are people who I meet who were raised Jewish who would call themselves, using their language, very reformed, and they had Christmas trees like the photos that we've talked about and like the Jews of Germany. All of this is to say that the December dilemma or the December decision is a tale as old as time. And I, for one, take some comfort in knowing that generations before us have wrestled with how to move through the world on December 25th.

So Jen, there's something that I have been playing around with in my head, and I'm curious to hear what you think. I have this theory, it's a working theory, that the reason I and many Jews love Christmas is because there is this sense of a unified, communal day of festivity here in this country, sort of this Shabbat Shabbaton I love that feeling of the whole world being at rest and that by choice or by default we're all just kind of home with a day to ourselves. Now, if I lived in Israel, I would have this sense more often on communally and nationally observed Jewish festivals, but I'm here, so I just sort of lean into the sense that it is somehow a holiday, but one for my own shaping. I guess maybe to some degree I'm leaning into my own German-Jewish roots by feeling like it is a national day of festivity, I just do it without Jesus and the tree and Santa and presents. But I don't know, what do you think?

It's also one of my favorite days of the year because no one has any expectations of anyone else. Now granted, I'm not dealing with the family dynamics of a religious or family gathering, but no one is emailing me, or if they email me, they're not expecting a response. There's just this sense, like you said, of restfulness. I had not considered calling Christmas Shabbat Shabbaton, but I'm gonna go there. I'm gonna get there, I think. This year I'm gonna see what it feels like. I also, though, see a lot of people who might feel differently. I especially see comments on Instagram and a lot of articles that you and I have been trading back and forth who feel that Christmas in public spaces and especially schools are actually microaggressions against children who feel othered. So having grown up as a minority in a majority Christian city, I don't feel that way. I know that I can have my holidays and they can have their holidays. And we can all bask in one another's light.

Totally. I— so this is my first year having two school-aged children actually in a physical place we call school at the same time. So yay, 2021. And I have found myself surprised by my own experience this December. So I have one kid who is like, she's ready to be like the mini rabbi. Like she is the one who like wants to bring in the dreidels and the Hanukkah storybooks and like was like, "I want to tell my class and my teacher about Hanukkah." And I'm kind of like, "All right, well, like let's read the room first." And here's the thing, the room, as far as I can tell, you know, and, you know, one elementary school in Western Mass being my sample size here, there does seem to be this sort of interest whether it's tokenized or authentic, and I don't know because I'm not there, right? To say that like December feels festive, right? December feels festive. And maybe it's in a way to like, in some ways, like kosher Christmas. Like if we acknowledge all of these other faith traditions, then it's okay for us to also acknowledge Christmas. Maybe there's part of that. But my kids have come home and have learned about Diwali, about Hanukkah, about Kwanzaa, And then today they started some reindeer project that like is, you know, is going to be a Christmas project. And I don't know, there's this part of me that's like, I don't— I, I have bigger battles to fight, and that's not my microaggression.

Yeah, yeah. And also like a science project could be, why was Rudolph's nose red?

Maybe he had rosacea.

Like, there is a lot of learning to do. Maybe he had rosacea. Yeah, the next chapter in that book is Rudolph's visit to the dermatologist. But that, that sounds more like a Rudolph in Tesriya Mitzvora.

Poor Rudolph.

But yeah, I think, I think I'm with you that, like I said, like, I can do both and. I hope that people have a joyful Christmas. I hope families that don't have the money to build the Christmas for their family that they want can be served by community organizations or donations that I can make to help them bring joy and festivity to their families. I hope that it's centered around gratitude. And I hope that— I actually want people to go to church. Like, yeah, let's put the Christ back in Christmas. That's my Grinch.

Totally. I was talking about this with some friends outside of school drop-off today. And one of those friends said something like, you know, I don't, I don't care if people want my Jewish children to not tell their Christian children that Santa's not real. Like, I'm okay with my Jewish kids, like, keeping up the ruse of Santa amongst their friends. My bigger bone to pick, right, is on the, the, you know, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, you know, fill in the blank, to all who celebrate. It's like, have we gotten so sensitive around, like, sort of, to whom are we addressing these greetings, right, that we, that we feel like we must specify, you know, to those who celebrate. And I think that there is something about this time of year, and, and I think you said something earlier about winter solstice, right? That like, there is something I think, like deeply human, like it's in our guts to find something to celebrate at the time of year that the world is at its darkest, and to fill it with light. And so whether they are the lights of Diwali, or Kwanzaa, or Hanukkah, or the lights around a Christmas tree, right? Like, can we all just agree that like a little beauty, a little festivity, a little joy and a little gratitude, like, is a great thing?

It is a great thing. And I also want to say that for families for whom not everyone in their family identifies as Jewish, I hope you're celebrating and honoring one partner's side of the family's traditions. And if that's Christmas, awesome. If your children are learning to help their grandparents celebrate Christmas, awesome. If they're learning to help their neighbor or their classmate celebrate Diwali or whatever holiday, that's beautiful and educational.

Totally.

And, and I hope that it's a meaningful time with family. I would If anything, I'm glad I don't celebrate Christmas only because I don't need more family holidays to make me have feelings about my family.

Hi, Jen's family who's listening. Nice to hear all of you guys. Hi, Mom.

Hi, Dad.

I love you.

Hi, Madonna's parents.

So Jen, this year, Christmas itself is on Shabbat, right? Erev Christmas is Erev Shabbat. Christmas Eve is on Friday night, right? And December 25th is Shabbat morning. So what are you in Matan doing?

Well, I will be leading Shabbat services at Temple Sha'olam of Newton. I actually have seemed to have led Shabbat services on Christmas a number of times. So I plan to offer some Torah of the past. And then my guess is this year, you know, there's this restaurant called Golden Temple and there's a tradition in Boston where people go to temple and then go to the Golden Temple. My guess this year is that I'm probably going to pick up take out Chinese food and we're going to act like it's a buffet. So I'm going to order lots of options. Um, and we're just going to indulge. And then I think we'll watch movies and I think we'll hang out with Joey and Joey's new toy, Hedgie. Um, and we have folks in our family actually that do celebrate Christmas. So I know we'll spend time wishing them a day of joy and cheer. What about you?

So I too will be leading services at the Chavra. And actually, you know what, I'm going to pause there to say I am not physically leading services at Chavra because when we noticed that Christmas was on a Friday night, when Christmas Eve was on a Friday night, we decided we would close our building, allowing our custodial and facilities folks to really have the day, the evening, the whole time to themselves. So we'll be celebrating on Zoom. I'll be welcoming our congregation into my home by way of my my Zoom window. And then I too will probably make my way to Koi on State Road in Great Barrington for a delicious takeout selection of, you know, traditional Jewish Christmas food.

Well, that sounds like a kosher Christmas to me. Absolutely. So as we close up this episode, we want to name that Jews and Christmas are an overlapping Venn diagram. We know that so many of our family and friends and listeners celebrate Christmas as a way of connecting to their extended family and to their family with whom they live. And so we have a wish and a hope for you. The Rabbis Jen Gubitz and Jen Gubitz wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Shabbat Shalom.