Who knew that controversy could rage in the world of menorahs? For years, the uncontested champion as the World’s Largest Menorah has been sitting on a choice spot at the southeast corner of New York’s Central Park. Weighing in at 4,000 pounds, the 10-metre high, gold-coloured, steel structure has dazzled Manhattanites with its genuine oil lamps
Hold on: in the other corner, across the Mediterranean, composed of over 5,000 LED bulbs, and reaching 6.5 metres in height, 50 metres in length, this beauty floats in Tel Aviv’s harbour. Could this be the champ?
But wait, just a few kilometres north, the final contender was created by the Israel Electric Corporation. It is made up of nine aerial platforms, including the shamash, which reaches a towering height of 28 metres, and eight lower lights each at 22 metres.
So what criteria do you use for “largest” menorah? Height versus length? On terra firma versus floating? Oil versus electric? I’ll let the folks at Guinness sort this one out.
On a more serious note, Chanukah menorahs have certainly factored in the debate over the role of religious symbols in public places. The JNS.org article, “Church-state debate still rages, but public Hanukkah menorahs gain wider acceptance,” looks at various U.S. court cases including Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), which reached the U.S. Supreme Court. In 1989, the County of Allegheny, Pennsylvania (with the support of Chabad), won the case about a publicly displayed nativity scene and an 18-foot-tall menorah in Pittsburgh. Said Rabbi Yisroel Rosenfeld, a Pittsburgh-based Chabad emissary, “Chabad is out there in the world to make sure that every Jew is not forgotten. Every Jew is remembered and thought about, and that every Jew maintains a connection to their heritage, so there is an assurance for the continuity of Judaism.”
A short hop from the Supreme Court, menorah lighting ceremonies at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue are now an annual tradition. The official White House site has photos marking Chanukah celebrations hosted by former presidents Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton and most recently by President Barack Obama.
There’s a bittersweet video of the menorah ceremony presided over by George W. Bush. It’s somewhat muted in joy, because it’s from December 2001, just months after the 9/11 attacks.
In an “oops!” moment, the White House made a faux pas in 2008 when it sent out its invitation to that year’s Chanukah ceremony, but accidentally printed a photo of a Clydesdale horse hauling a Christmas fir along the snow-dappled drive to the president’s residence. Jewish community leader Isaac Abraham of Brooklyn quipped, “It’s obvious what’s going on here: the Christmas tree is being taken out of the White House and the menorah is being brought in the back.” White House staff apologized for the error.
On this side of the border, former prime minister Stephen Harper also made a point of hosting annual Chanukah celebrations. He commented, “The fact that this ceremony can now be conducted in so many countries, in public, in the supportive company of their non-Jewish fellow citizens, is reason for hope that the light of the menorah may one day banish anti-Semitic bigotry into the darkness forever.”
Before you know it, Chanukah is over. All you are left with are memories of all those latkes you ingested – and a menorah caked with wax. Tablet’s readers came to the rescue (about the waxy mess, that is.) Their suggestions:
- Spray the menorah with a light coating of cooking spray (such as Pam) right before you begin lighting the candles.
- When cleaning up, freeze your menorah, and the wax pops right out.
- Take the menorah outside and pour hot water on it to melt off the wax. It’s easier to clean up outside than in the sink.
- Embrace tradition. “I use oil cups in my chanukiyah. Clean up is a non-issue.”
Long after the candles have burned out and your menorah has been cleaned up, the memories of some special menorahs never fade away. One of the most remarkable menorahs I viewed online is a miniature silver chanukiyah that was manufactured in the Lodz ghetto. As the Yad Vashem website describes, “when closed, the folding lamp has the shape of a book. It contains nine small oil-holders and tongs. As it is portable, it enables the owner to fulfil the obligation of kindling the Chanukah lights even under difficult conditions.” It was dedicated on Chanukah 1944. The menorah was found after the war in the ruins of the home of Mordechai Chaim Rumkowski, chairman of the ghetto’s Jewish council.
I stumbled across this lovely story about newlyweds, their first Chanukah, and their first menorah. “Finally opening the box, he pulled out the menorah he had ordered a long time ago. Her eyes lit up like they did a few years ago when he proposed. It was a hand-painted ceramic menorah, and it was just the most beautiful thing to her. Without knowing what kind of menorah she wanted, he had found the perfect one. They were perfect for each other.”
Contact Mark Mietkiewicz via email here.
