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    ANALYZING THE IMAGERY OF A FAMILIAR CHANUKAH POEM

    I would like to share
    a beautiful insight
    from Rav Matisyahu
    Solomon relating to
    the popular
    Chanukah liturgical
    poem, Maoz Tzur.
    Perhaps the most familiar stanza of this
    poem (owing to the well-known song using
    these words) is the stanza beginning
    Yevanim nikbetzu alay azai b’yemay
    Chashmonim (The Syrian-Greeks gathered
    against me in the days of the Chashmoneans).
    The song then relates that they made
    breaches into the walls of my source of
    strength (u’fartzu chomos migdalay). It
    continues that a miracle was performed for
    the sake of the shoshanim. The word
    shoshanim literally means roses. The poet
    metaphorically calls the Jewish nation
    “shoshanim”.
    Why, we may ask, was the name
    “shoshanim” seen as a particularly
    appropriate way to refer to Klal Yisrael at
    this time in history?
    Rav Solomon’s basic theme is an idea
    mentioned by Rav Yeruchum Levovitz in

    his work Daas Chochmah U’Mussar. Rav
    Yeruchum writes that if we are to seek out
    one theme that Moshe Rabbeinu constantly
    repeats throughout his life, it is the theme
    that Klal Yisrael should not assimilate with
    idolatrous societies and learn from their
    ways. Moshe’s greatest fear was that after
    his death the nation of Israel would learn the
    ways of their non-Jewish neighbors and be
    pulled into the trap and the lifestyle of the
    nations of the world. Moshe first mentions
    this theme as soon as the Torah is given and
    he does not let up until the very day he dies.
    Rav Yeruchum cites chapter and verse to
    prove his point. Here are just a few of many
    examples: “Don’t make a covenant with
    them or with their gods. They shall not
    dwell in your land lest they cause you to sin
    to Me.” [Shemos 23:33]; “Take heed lest
    you make a covenant with those who dwell
    in the land.” [Shemos 31:24]; “When you
    cross the Jordan to the land of Canaan, you
    shall drive out all the inhabitants of the
    Land before you; and you shall destroy…
    and you shall demolish… but if you do not
    drive out the inhabitants of the Land before
    you, those of them whom you leave shall be
    pins in your eyes and thorns in your sides…”

    [Bamidbar 33:51-55]. These same themes
    are repeated by Moshe again and again
    and again.
    Unfortunately, in spite of all these
    warnings and exhortations, Klal Yisrael did
    not do a very good job of keeping away
    from assimilation with the nations. The
    history of both the early and later prophets
    is replete with examples of spiritual
    backsliding on the part of the Jewish people
    due to having learned from and copied the
    abominations of other nations. This occurs
    over and over in the Book of Yehoshua, in
    Shoftim, in Shmuel, and in Melachim. Not
    only did “the masses” of Jews learn from
    idolators, even Jewish Kings learned from
    them, to the extent that some of them tried
    to eradicate Judaism from the nation.
    Ultimately, the Jews paid the price of this
    spiritual backsliding and were exiled from
    the Land.
    After seventy years, the Jews were put back
    into the land, having seemingly learned
    their lesson, only to return to their wayward
    behavior and to again learn from the
    Hellenists in the time of the Second Temple.
    Concerning this constant historical
    challenge to the preservation of unique
    Jewish identity, Dovid HaMelech says,
    “And they intermingled among the
    nations and they learned from their ways”
    [Tehillim 106:35].
    If there is a way to sum up the essence of
    the battle between Klal Yisrael and the
    Yevanim [Syrian-Greeks] at the time of
    the Chanukah story in twenty-five words
    or less it is by describing this very issue.
    The Yevanim’s battle with the Jews was
    not a physical battle to eradicate our
    people. Their vision was not that of
    Haman in an earlier era nor that of Rome
    in a later era. The Yevanim were not
    interested in killing Jews. The Greeks did
    not destroy the Beis HaMikdash even
    though they were certainly militarily
    capable of doing that. Their goal was not
    to destroy the Temple, but to de-sanctify
    it. They wanted to take Jewish culture
    and adulterate it. Their vision was to
    Hellenize Judaism and to blur the
    differences between Greek and Jewish
    culture. It was not a battle for the lives of
    Jews. It was a battle for their souls — a
    cultural war.
    Perhaps this is what the Mishneh is
    alluding to in Tractate Middos [2:3].
    When detailing the layout of the Har
    Habayis, the Mishneh mentions a ten
    hand breadth high fence known as the
    Soreg, just inside the perimeter of the Har
    Habayis. The Mishneh comments that the
    Soreg contained thirteen breaches that
    were made by the Greek Kings. The

    Mishneh says that the Jews were successful
    in mending the fences and instituted a
    corresponding number of prostrations,
    where visitors bowed when passing these
    places. The Rabbis enacted that when a Jew
    came to the Har Habayis and saw the
    mended fences, he should bow down in
    grateful thanks to the Master of the Universe

    for the successful defeat of the Syrian-
    Greek empire.

    The Tosfos YomTov comments that the
    purpose of the Soreg fence was to separate
    the Jews from the non-Jews. When people
    of other nations came to the Har Habayis
    (which they had the right to do, as found in
    Sholo HaMelech’s prayer at the Temple
    dedication [Melachim I 8:41-43]), they had
    to know their limits. If they wanted to join
    the Jewish nation, they could convert. But
    they did not have to. They could donate to
    the Temple and make offerings, but from
    “the other side of the fence”, a small but
    symbolic separation between the Jews and
    the nations.
    When the Greeks were successful in
    conquering Eretz Yisrael, what did they do?
    They did not destroy the fence or jump over
    the fence. They made breaches in the fence,
    in effect saying we are not different. We are
    no different from you and you are no different
    from us. We want to intermingle with you,
    and we want you to assimilate with us.
    The mending of the fences was the symbol of
    the victory of the Jews over the Greeks.
    Therefore, how appropriate it is, for the
    liturgist to write – in describing the challenge
    that the Greeks presented to the Jewish
    nation: U’fartzu chomos migadalie [And
    they breached the walls of my Temple].
    U’mi’nosar kankanim, na-aseh nes
    la’shoshanim [And from the left-over vials of
    oil a miracle was performed for the ‘roses’].
    Why ‘shoshanim’ [roses]? The pasuk in Shir
    HaShirim [2:2] states, Like the rose
    (maintaining its beauty) among the thorns, so
    is My faithful beloved among the nations.
    Rashi there explains that the Jewish people
    are compared to roses. They live in a hostile
    environment. The delicate rose is in constant
    danger, lest the thorns puncture and pierce its
    beauty, destroying its pristine appearance.
    The Jewish people is under constant pressure
    to assimilate, and to replace Jewish values
    with those of the larger society around us.
    This was the praise of the Jews who defeated
    the Greeks. They preserved their pristine
    beauty in the face of the hostility of the
    Yevanim who were trying to puncture and
    destroy their spiritually delicate essence.