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"Don't Let the Light Go Out" |
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Hanukkah, which is called both the Festival of Lights or the Feast of Dedication, is observed for eight days. As you heard from Sue, the story is that when the temple was taken over again by the Maccabees they needed to purify it of the desecrations that had been performed against it by the Greeks. The ritual laws required that a period of eight days of prayer and service be performed for the re-dedication to be effective. The priests worried because they knew they only had enough oil to light the lamp for the first day, but they went ahead and lit it anyway. Then, miraculously the lamp continued to burn, and burned, and burned, and burned. Though the oil should have run out after the first day it lasted the whole eight days until the period of dedication was complete. This was taken as a sign of God's presence. The ritual lighting of the menorah candles today serves as a reminder and celebration of that story. Jews tell that story year after year. You may wonder why they do that. Why should we, as UU's, do that turn to that story and honor the lighting of the menorah year after year? That particular moment of religious freedom didn't last very long, the Jews would lose control of the Temple in Jerusalem again for centuries, as you know. There are two reasons: this reminder of the story at Hanukkah, re-enacted by Jews around the world, is a ritual of both gratitude for what has been, and an expression of hope for the future. Gratitude and Hope are gifts of this ritual process. Our newspaper headlines this morning are a sad testament to the fact that we haven't, even now, learned how to create a lasting peace. The menorah light that burns is symbolic, and testifies to a hope that continues to live in the heart, that a time of lasting peace, justice, and freedom, will one day be birthed. Fast-forward with me now some two-thousand years. There was an art-film at the Omni Theater some time ago. I forget the title. It was silent; a view of a variety of the world's greatest primitive, human-made monuments shown in still, time-lapse photography as time passes: Stonehenge, the pyramids, early cave dwellings; we see the same scenes as night falls, as the sun rises, and as the shadows travel full circle again and again. The seasons and the weather mark temporary shifts as the years go by, but little else changes. In can be said that we see the same kind of thing in relationship to human moral progress. There have been periods of darkness when there is fighting and bloodshed, and then periods of light when there is momentary peace and justice, and hope burns brighter. But, overall, little seems to change. In some ways humankind is still primitive. But that doesn't mean nothing can change. You realize that in the film because some inspiration toward greatness put the original monuments there in the first place. We are capable of great vision and creative leaps of imagination. Pope said, "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." Hanukkah, like Advent and Christmas, is a ritual of hope. It has been said that hope is the pillar that holds up the world. The visionary work of humankind is supported and strengthened by our rituals of hope. We light our candles of hope because we must. The history of the Middle East has been dark for a long time. There are, though, moments of courage and imagination that shine out against the historical landscape. One of the most profound photographs of the last century was of Yitzak Rabin and Yasser Arafat shaking hands. This handshake, which signified that each recognized the other as a legitimate political entity with a right to exist, was difficult for both men. It inspired anger in the hearts of many of their own people. To shake hands with the enemy, to commit to a peace process when the way forward isn't clear, when darkness and hatred prevail, takes extraordinary commitment and faith. Writer Anne LaMott, author of Bird by Bird, says "Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up." Rabin, and, I hope, Arafat, were motivated by such hope. When Rabin was asked how he could do such a thing as shake hands with someone responsible for the deaths of many of his people, he curtly replied, "Peace is something you make with your enemies, not your friends." At that time, Rabin and Arafat, were willing to begin moving down a long and difficult road of a negotiated peace process although the road ahead was by no means clear. Rabin was later killed by a right wing Jew at a peace rally. Although his handshake with Arafat eventually cost Rabin his life,- his gesture remains, a monument to the peace that dwelled within his imagination, and which he applied all his creative energies to bringing into being. That conciliatory moment, which took place some two thousand years after the Maccabees rededicated the Temple of Jerusalem, won the Israeli Rabin and the Arab, Arafat a shared Nobel Peace Prize. The conferring of the Nobel Prize itself has something in common with the lighting of the menorah at Hanukkah, in that it, too, is an annual ritual of gratitude and of hope. As you may know, there are many Nobel Prizes awarded each year in six fields: physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, peace and the economic sciences. Of those categories, it is the category of peace that particularly pushes the envelope of human moral progress. The purpose of the Peace Prize is to shed light on those who do good work towards peace, and by so doing, it seeks to empower them. Our peacemakers are harbingers of hope. The Nobel Peace laureates are a collective force of hope that tries to push us forward in the area of human moral progress. The bright light of the Nobel Committee is shining today. The Nobel Prize is celebrating its 100th anniversary of existence right now, from December 4th to December 10th . As part of that celebration, all living Nobel laureates, have been invited to attend ceremonies and meetings in Stockholm and Oslo over a period of several days. As we speak, they are gathered. Research is being done on the kind of creativity that leads to the kinds of great breakthroughs that are honored by the Nobel prize. It would be wonderful if, during this celebration of Hanukah, insights could be pressed forward by these living laureates. I'd like to talk for a minute more about two of the Nobel Peace laureates, both winners of the Peace Prize, who can't be in Oslo today and about the light they contribute... A story about Rabin.... In 1995, the Mayor of Jerusalem, Ecudor Met, conferred an honorary posthumous citizenship on Yitzak Rabin. There, his wife Leah told the following story because it highlighted a quality of Rabin that separated him from his peers. Back during the fighting that led to the founding of Israel as a nation, the Israelis wanted to establish a supply route from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. David Ben Gurion insisted on forging the road by the most direct route. Rabin lobbied for taking a longer alternative route though the mountains to avoid Latrun, the site of an enemy stronghold. Let them have Latrun, he argued. The other road, which he called the Burma Road, was longer, he conceded, and it was mountainous, and would be slow - but using it as their supply route would save lives and would be a better way to go, he argued. Only after three bloody frontal attacks on Latrun failed, was Rabin's alternative, indirect route, finally attempted. Leah still remembers the joyous faces of the soldiers on those first dust-caked, bullet-riddled jeeps that pulled into Jerusalem laden with supplies. The alternative road through the mountains, the Burma Road was Rabin's first acclaimed feat as a strategist. Leah said he was always open to seeking fruitful alternatives. There is one final story about hope and courage that I'd like to share with you this morning - someone else who is taking the Burma Road, the indirect route that Rabin championed, this time, ironically, actually in the country of Burma. Ten years ago this week Aung San Suu Kyi (CHEE) was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. In 1990 this extraordinary young woman won over 80% of the vote in duly called Parliamentary elections. The military government that lost, not only denied her the lawful position of leadership, they put her under house arrest. Since that day she has stood her ground, refusing to concede the government or her election. Now, ten years later, she remains under house arrest in Rangoon, refusing to give up her fight for democracy, justice and human rights for the people of Burma. Thousands of her colleagues also remain in prison. And dozens of elected members of parliament also remain in detention refusing to renounce their parliamentary seats and drop their insistence that the military government recognize the elections. This is a critical time for Burma. Aung Sung Suu Kyi knows that hope begins in the dark. She and others have put their lives on the line, like Rabin, hoping that if they do the right thing, then dawn will come. Systematic human rights violations, including forced labor, continue unabated in Burma while the world watches. Yitzak Rabin and Aung Sung Suu Kyi are two beacons of light worth celebrating this Hanukkah season, those who by their belief and action have pushed the envelop of human moral progress - they serve as candles in the darkness. At the outset I said we tell our stories again and again as an expression of gratitude for the past and hope for the future. But it doesn't stop there. We also tell these stories to challenge us in our personal lives and to compel our own action. Yitzak Rabin and Aung Sung Suu Kyi demonstrate for us a call to a higher purpose, self-determination, and a willingness to take risks - willingness to risk not only physical safety, but the anger of loved ones, the respect of their peers. Let us have the courage to push the envelope of progress in our own lives. May we take heart from the examples we have heard today. Can we contemplate making peace with our enemies? Can we wait without giving up? Let us remember that hope always begins in the darkness. Let us be reminded that the lighting of candles in this holiday season is emblematic of the light that is ours if we have the courage to give it to the world. |