A seasonal reading suggestion

Chanukah is the Jewish Festival of Light. We celebrate the miracle of the Temple oil that burned for seven extra days following the Maccabees’ victory over the occupying Greek aggressors. Today we no longer have the Temple services but that does not stop us commemorating our success by singing Hallel, lighting our chanukiot, indulging our children with toys and games—and of course feasting on sufganiyot.

No festival in the Jewish calendar is more remote from the pursuit of mussar than is Chanukah. Most practising Jews put aside their copies of Pirkei Avot three months ago and it will be another three months before they open them again. But that does not mean that Avot has no message for us. Ethical behaviour in accordance with a moral compass is demanded of us all day, every day, come rain come shine. Three months without learning Avot taxes our memories as well as our middot.

In his commentary on Avot, the Bartenura observes that we Jews are not alone in having rules of good conduct. Non-Jewish cultures have them too—and their rules are often the same as ours. So what is the difference between us and them? We believe ours to have been handed down to us at Mount Sinai along with the written Torah, whereas theirs were the product of intellectual endeavour and not inconsiderable creativity. Does this make a difference? I suggest that history has shown that it does.

Some of the greatest works of ancient times address many of the same issues as Avot. Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics and Plato’s Apology guided not merely Greek thought but that of most of the Western world for centuries, while Seneca and Marcus Aurelius added significant contributions from Rome. But who reads them now? Only a small number of theologians, academics and philosophy students, most of whom may only access them in translation. Have you ever met anyone who admits to following the moral lead of these profound ancient thinkers? Almost certainly not, for the world has left them behind.

How different from Avot, which continues to drive the moral dynamo of contemporary Judaism even in its original Hebrew form!

Like Waze, Avot steers us gently and discreetly along the path we are to travel. It offers a variety of valid routes towards our destination since we, as individuals, have our own priorities and preferences, feelings and foibles. So here’s a suggestion for anyone who might be in need of a little push in the right direction: why not pour yourself a seasonally-appropriate beverage, grab a doughnut or two, then curl up in your most comfy chair, in full view of a cheerfully blazing chanukiah, and peruse a few pages of Avot?