Timeless Torah

It was the last night of Chanukah. My three oldest and their mother had gone to entertain those who would be attending a public Menorah lighting in a prestigious mall. My three youngest were home with me. We lit the Menorah, sang accompanying songs and then they asked “Can you play dreidel with us?”

They are still of the age when their pudgy little fingers cannot spin the dreidel. What can I say? I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I showed off. I spun the dreidel topside up, upside down, racing down the table and every which way. But no matter how hard I tried, the dreidel eventually slowed down, fell down and came to a stop.

Here in the dreidel, I wanted to explain to my youngsters is the crucial difference between man and G-d. Our world, the galaxies, indeed the entire universe down to the electrons circling the proton is in a constant state of motion. While man has sought to imitate the Creator, we have been unsuccessful. All of our satellites may orbit for a while, but then burn up due to atmospheric forces. Only G-d’s Sputniks and Apollos, his planets and their moons, spin endlessly.

How appropriate that Jewish children faced with extinction invented the dreidel. More than once our people looked as if they were about to fall. Babylon, Persia, Rome, Spain, Russia and Germany all tried to knock down the pitiful Jewish dreidel. But G-d always gave it another spin and His children came back, renewed with vigor, virtually dancing and spinning more energetically than before.

Compare this with the other mighty empires of yore. They spun around for a century or two and then? But don’t be surprised. They are like the dreidels spun by human hands.

There is one other element, an ingredient if you will, that sets the Jewish dreidel apart. Although it seems to be spinning on its axis going nowhere, with each complete revolution it flashes an inspirational message of hope. I refer to the Hebrew letters נ, ג,ה, ש (nun, gimmel, hey, shin). The Chasidic masters point out that the combined numerical equivalent, or gematria, of these letters is the same as the Hebrew letters which form the word Moshiach. They both equal 358.

As the dreidel whizzes by it imparts faith, courage and strength to continue our sometimes twisted journey. Our wanderings are not aimless; indeed there is a goal, an end, a purpose. “But when,” you ask, “will it happen?” Unfortunately, as the bookmakers say, “Where and when she lands, no-one knows.”