Menorah is lit, history is made

When I was growing up, the IJN office was literally down the block from the State Capitol, so I have been there many times. Now the IJN is still just a mere two blocks away, so I pass by the Capitol all the time and from time to time still go in for various situations or events.

But never before have I been to the Capitol for an historic event.

Until this week.

On the seventh night — the seventh candle — of Chanukah.

As many of us stood just steps away from the famously engraved  5,280 marker of “one mile above sea level,” a menorah was kindled at the Capitol for the first time in history.

By Colorado’s US Senator Michael Bennet.

Who is Jewish.

I had arrived a few minutes early. The Capitol is perched on a rise, overlooking the sweeping view of the park below and ultimately bounded by the half-crescent City and County Bldg. across the plaza. It was a three-D theatrical scene, with the sun sinking behind the darkening silhouetted Rockies. Even before the historic lighting, the Colorado beauty of this open and contiguous central part of downtown Denver was imbued with so much beauty.

Truth be told, it was cold. I was shivering. But wouldn’t have missed it.

Rabbi Zalman Popack organized the entire event. In the tradition of Chabad, who kindle menorahs in public places, as he had already done with two menorahs on the 16th St. Mall, he thought of the idea and symbol of lighting a Chanukah menorah at out State Capitol. A public menorah there was a way to recognize the freedom of religion that this lawmaking house gives our people. It was a way to honor our faith right outside the place where the laws of our state are made.

The purpose of lighting the Chanukah menorah is “pirsumei nisa,” publicization of the miracle of Chanukah. To me, these large menorahs lit in public places are the ultimate expression of this.

It is interesting that the actual commandment of Chanukah lighting is simply “ish u-veito,” one candle for every home. To light more than one candle is considered “mehadrin” or scrupulous, or “mehadrin min ha-mehadrin,” extra scrupulous. But tell me, do you know anyone who lights just one Chanukah candle?

Chanukah lighting has come to be so beloved that in many homes that every person lights his or her very own menorah. Women too, “since they were a part of the miracle.” Chanukah, probably more than any other mitzvah, is the one most observed. And not just observed basically — one candle per home — but observed with extra commitment — a new candle added each night, and more than the head of the household lighting the candles.

Back to the Capitol. It was cold out there. But along with latkes and raspberry filled sufganiyot, there were tall cups of hot apple cider to warm you.

Congressman Tom Tancredo, in his signature Western hat, kicked the ceremony off by climbing the platform and, with a long torch, lighting the shamash.

The crowd then sang the blessings along with Sen. Bennet and, one by one, the seven flames began to flicker on this high lamp that towered above us all, flanked by the granite monuments on the windswept plaza.

Rabbi Popack spoke of the significance of the seventh candle, of the seventh night.

Seven, like the seven days of the week, represents the cycle of nature; the miracle of nature in our daily lives. This too is a miracle. Every sunrise, every sunset. Nature working “on schedule.” Miracles are not just the extraordinary events, such as one night’s canister of oil lasting eight days.

Surely, this is a miracle transcending nature that we all recognize and, in fact, celebrate on Chanukah. But on this seventh night, Rabbi Popack said, let us be mindful of miracles in nature we have every day.

And like those miracles in nature, which differ from the large miracles above nature, so too every small kind deed — not only large and dramatic ones — build meaningful lives around us.

Sen. Bennet seemed to enjoy the opportunity to be a part of this Jewish tradition of the Chanukah lighting. He spoke of his Jewishness, of his heritage from his grandparents, who escaped the worst tragedy of in human history: the Holocaust.

He spoke of how his family was graciously given reprieve in this great country of the US, where everyone can be who they are and where his parents were the beneficiaries of the small daily deeds of kindness of which Rabbi Popack spoke.

He marveled at the fact that his grandparents would never have believed that he, their grandson, could one day publicly light a menorah on the steps of the Colorado State Capitol.

The senator then stepped down, and the Chanukah music that was piped over the loudspeakers, began.

Just like that, Colorado history was made on the seventh night of Chanukah on the red stone West steps of the Colorado State Capitol.

Copyright © 2013 by the Intermountain Jewish News