From the archives: After experiencing both Darlene Edwards and Anna Russell...

...one is well-advised to return to sanity and the normal world gradually to prevent damage to one’s cerebral cortex. Therefore, since today is New Year’s Eve and 2008 will soon be replaced by 2009, we have just the thing. We shall accomplish our return, our decompression, as it were, by way of our very own A Festival Of Auld Lang Syne Performances.

The first performance will be on the musical saw with accordion accompaniment (I said we must do this gradually), plus there is a bit of the human voice. Experiencing this particular performance is eerily reminiscent of listening to Darlene Edwards herself, but it will begin to accomplish our ends. When the voice enters (which I believe is female, but I may be wrong), we are actually able to forget Darlene for a time by concentrating instead on what seems to be a very poor imitation of the young Bob Dylan from a time when Bob’s lyrics were still comprehensible. Here, then, from 2006, is the androgynous Nicki Jaine on both the saw and the vocal, accompanied by Roy Ashley on accordion, with Auld Lang Syne #1.

Next, class, we travel through both time and space to Detroit in the year 1987 to hear the young Aretha Franklin and Billy Preston sing a Motown version of our festival theme, Auld Lang Syne #2. Inexplicably, there is a brief appearance by comedian David Brenner at the end of the performance.

As we continue to mellow and chill and let the old year slip away, who better than saxophonist Kenny G to put us in the proper mood? Here is the third rung on our decompression ladder, Auld Lang Syne #3. You may skip this step only if you majored in jazz saxophone in college and consider Kenny G as having sold out for commercial success.

Last year, I searched for a fitting Auld Lang Syne #4 with which to close the Festival. After listening to dozens of possibilities, I decided against subjecting you to Barbra Streisand’s turn-of-the-millenium Las Vegas concert rendition and settled instead upon the Alexandria Harmonizers, the 2003 medal winners of the International Chorus Singing Contest at the SPEBSQSA Convention in Montreal, Canada (SPEBSQSA is the Society for the Preservation and Encouragement of Barber Shop Quartet Singing in America), singing one of the best renditions of Auld Lang Syne I have ever encountered. This year, unfortunately, that video is no longer posted in cyberspace because of some squabbling over copyright issues, so I am forced to take a different tack. This year, instead of listening to a fourth version of Auld Lang Syne, let us take a little stroll down memory lane and enter the land of Auld Lang Syne itself.

Help yourself to one or more of the following musical stars of yesteryear:

Doris Day,

Vic Damone,

Lena Horne,

Perry Como and Eddie Fisher,

or the great Nat King Cole!

In Gloria Swanson’s role as silent-film star Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard, she had one of the great lines of all time: “They didn’t need dialogue. They had faces then!” When I listen to these singers, I feel like saying, “They had voices then!” I shudder to think what fans of today’s music will be thinking are “golden oldies” thirty or forty years
from now.

Our Festival has now come to an end. It has done its work and our decompression is complete. You may now return to your normal lives, where you are free to choose any kind of music that helps you get through your day.

[A slightly different version of this post was first published on December 30, 2007. --RWP]

From the archives: I'm thinking if you liked Anna Russell...

...you’re probably going to love Jonathan and Darlene Edwards, a husband-and-wife team who recorded five albums over the years at the urging of their mentors, the great Paul Weston and Jo Stafford. Jonathan (Paul) plays a mean piano and Darlene (Jo) has never been in better voice. Upon winning a grammy they were astounded to learn it was for comedy, not their musical artistry.

Well, thanks once again to YouTube, here is a real end-of-the-year treat. I give you the incomparable, the often imitated but never duplicated, the unbelievable (have your earplugs handy) Jonathan and Darlene Edwards performing “Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue”.

[A slightly different version of this post was first published on December 30, 2007. --RWP]

From the archives: The one, the only, Anna Russell!

[This post was first published on December 28, 2007. I brought it back to help brighten your otherwise drab and dreary end-of-2008. --RWP]

Back in the day, one of my favorite comedic albums was “Anna Russell Sings.” I was dumb enough to give away my copy to a friend thirty years ago, and I have been sorry ever since. Miss Russell, whose act had to be heard to be believed, died at the age of 94 a couple of years ago. Today, with only three days remaining before the Year of Our Lord 2008 also fades into history, I discovered her on YouTube singing that old favorite, “Canto dolciamente pippo” from the opera La Cantatrice Squealante by the Italian composer, Michelangelo Occupinti. Then she launched into its polar opposite, “I Gave You My Heart And You Made Me Miserable.”

Anna Russell, the Victor Borge of the operatic world, deserves to be heard and laughed at and adored by a new generation of music lovers. So settle back, close your eyes, and pretend you are in the concert hall. Ladies and gentlemen, here, once again, for your listening pleasure (remember to turn up your volume), I give you the one, the only, Anna Russell!

There now, wasn't that better than Larry The Cable Guy?

The packages have all been opened,...

...the food has all been eaten, the relatives have all returned to their homes and normal lives. We find ourselves deep in the “Christmas is over but it’s not yet New Year’s” doldrums.

I can’t imagine why but I’m thinking today about goofy movies that I like, not that I’ve seen that many goofy movies, you understand. And I suppose it depends on your definition of the word goofy. I don’t mean “falling-down funny.” I refuse to pay good money to see Adam Sandler or Will Ferrell (although I’m given to understand that Elf is cute) or most other comedians who ever put in time at Saturday Night Live cavorting their way across the silver screen. They all seem so, well, sophomoric, although even that word is too good for what passes for comedy these days. Current attempts at comedy seems to be aimed mostly at ten-year-old boys and more mature specimens with deeper voices who still think and act like ten-year-old boys. Slapstick and mindless drivel doesn’t appeal to me very much, or at least not for very long. Enough already, or I’ll be into a full-blown rant.

I’m thinking instead of movies I like even though other people might think they are quirky or bizarre or downright weird. Mrs. RWP and I rarely go out to movie theaters, so I must confess in the interest of full disclosure that some of these movies I have seen only on television. Here’s my list:

Big Fish starring Albert Finney, Jessica Lange, Ewan McGregor, and Danny DeVito.

The Purple Rose of Cairo starring Jeff Daniels, Mia Farrow, and Danny Aiello. It was written and directed by Woody Allen.

Big starring Tom Hanks and others. It was directed by Penny Marshall of Laverne and Shirley fame (speaking of slapstick).

Reaching way back, Some Like It Hot starring Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon, Marilyn Monroe, and Joe E. Brown. It was directed by Billy Wilder. The events in this one could really have happened, so maybe it isn’t all that bizarre.

Perhaps the most bizarre movie of them all, Field of Dreams starring Kevin Costner, Amy Madigan, Ray Liotta, James Earl Jones, Timothy Busfield, and Burt Lancaster.

I guess the common thread running through all of these films is fantasy, the sense of “this could never happen in real life but let’s have some fun for a little while and willingly suspend disbelief and see what happens” that seems to take over each of them. Maybe the word I’m looking for is escapist, although the big Hollywood musicals of yesteryear, also escapist fare, can’t really be called goofy, bizarre, or weird (depending, of course, on how many people you know who burst into song at unexpected times during the day). At least a couple of the movies on my list deal with conflicted feelings about one’s male parent. A psychiatrist would probably have a field day figuring out and telling me why I am attracted to this kind of movie and not John Wayne westerns. And that, dear reader, is why I am not ever going to see a psychiatrist.

I do like adventure films of a certain sort that also involve fantasy, like Lord Of The Rings and the Narnia ones that have come out recently. I mean, how many elves or talking lions do you normally encounter on your way to the supermarket?

If you have any strong feelings for or against any of these films in particular or about the genre in general, I would love to hear your comments. And if you would care to reveal your own list of films that you could watch over and over again even if other people think you are bonkers, that would be all right too.

Of hymns and trees and grandfather clocks

The first Sunday in May, 2009, will mark 30 years since I first stepped foot in the church that I have attended ever since (except for a brief 18-month period four years into the gig). The strange thing to me, as I think about it, is that after reviewing my previous post about ten hymns that together have truly shaped me, that speak to me, that comprise my theology, I realize that only two of them -- “Christ The Lord Is Risen Today” and “Holy, Holy, Holy” -- have ever been sung in our church in all that time. A few years back, we stopped using hymnals altogether. Now we sing mainly contemporary choruses, with an occasional old hymn thrown in, I suppose, for auld lang syne.

But our Christmas musical program this year on December 14th did include “Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus” by the choir, so I suppose there is still hope. At that rate, though, it will take until the year 2308 for my closest friends to hear my list of ten important hymns in my life, and by that time the Klingons may have taken over. I don't expect they’ll be all that musical.

We received a great Christmas gift this week that didn’t cost anyone a cent. About twenty years ago we acquired a grandfather’s clock, but for the past nine years, through two moves, it has not worked. My oldest son’s family came over the other day so that the grandchildren could help decorate our trees, and while we were doing that my son figured out what was wrong with the clock: a little arm that extended into the works behind the face was just sitting alongside the pendulum when it should have been inserted into a little hole near the top of the pendulum. For two days now we have been hearing Westminster Chimes as of old! Our clock is a Baldwin -- the case was made by the piano people -- and it can be switched easily to St. Michael chimes and Whittington chimes as well with just a flick of a finger. Hearing it again has been like welcoming an old friend back into the family, one that has been greatly missed.

And you read that correctly: trees. We have two. Both are artificial and both are pre-lit. Hey, I'm all about ease and convenience. One is four feet tall and last year stood in our bay window on a cedar chest. The other one is eight feet tall and for the last five Christmases stood in our great room. I wouldn't say we are tree huggers, but my daughter had five trees in her house last Christmas. This year we (okay, Ellie) decided to change things around a little at our house. The short tree is now in our foyer and the tall one is in our keeping room. Before we bought this house five years ago, I had never heard of a keeping room. It just looked like a big country kitchen to me. But there is plenty of room there for our main tree and we (okay, I) didn’t have to rearrange all the furniture in the great room this year.

One thing we liked about our house when we first saw it was that it reminded us of living in Florida with its 14-foot ceilings and open floor plan. The kitchen, keeping room, and great room are all really one big room with a ledge separating the kitchen from the rest. We changed what was supposed to have been a sun porch/TV room into a dining room by having six-foot-wide French doors replaced with a nine-foot encased opening and extending the carpeting from the great room all the way to the windows. From the outside, our house looks rather small, but everyone always comments upon entering how spacious and roomy it is. I suppose all the little tricks employed by the builder were meant to fool the eye, and it works! Also, this year, for the first time in several years, Ellie put out the entire Christmas village and spread it around in three places: on the ledge, on the huntboard, and on the mantel over the fireplace. The village is lit up as well, so our entire living space is bathed in a warm glow. I will hate to have to take it all down and put it away for another year.

I know a blog is supposed to be a great place for exhibiting all your treasures and family photographs but I am just a bit too private a person for that. I don’t think I would ever publish my children’s or grandchildren’s pictures, although I am extremely proud of them and love them as much as the next fellow. But there are too many weirdos out there in the real world to take a chance. Besides, we don't own a digital camera or a scanner, so that makes things a bit more difficult. It’s hard enough keeping the hamster running on its wheel to power up the computer without worrying about all that other newfangled stuff.

You’ll just have to use your imagination. My job will be to keep you coming back, mostly with words alone. Speaking of which, here is a poem of mine that is several years old. I don't think I have posted it before. I hope it turns out to be spaced the way I wrote it, but you never can tell what may happen.


The Writer

With words alone, he paints
from the palette of his mind,
mixing,
blending,
combining
hues and tints
until he sees the exact shade
he wants.

With words alone, she chips away
rough edges of meaning,
chiseling,
hewing,
gouging
the solid rock
until the long-sought shape
emerges.

With words alone, she pins and drapes
original ideas
over the naked manikin page,
tucking in a bit of material
here,
snipping off
a dangling thread
there,
dropping thoughts
as easily as hemlines.

With words alone, he composes
irresistible music,
charming,
seducing the ear,
searching for a particular chord,
the one right sound his words must make
for echoes
to linger.


(P.S. - It didn’t work. Can anyone tell me how to make a block of text appear just the way you want it to? This blogger thingy thinks everything is supposed to start at the left margin! --RWP)

Christmas: It’s more than a baby in a manger.

Back on November 5th (an eternity in blogdom), Ruth Hull Chatlien of Illinois invited readers of her blog to participate in a hymn meme. I intended to, I really did, but I promptly forgot all about it (and suddenly I remember that one of my mother’s sayings was, “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”) This week, however, when Tracie (a.k.a. Rosezilla) posted her response, it dawned on me that I had not completed the task, I had not held up my end of the bargain, I had dropped the ball. Hence, this post.

Ruth asked her readers to consider this question: If I could choose ten hymns that together have truly shaped me, that speak to me, that comprise my theology, what would they be?

Well, I have been a church pianist and organist for much of the last 55 years, so I have hundreds of “favorite hymns.” Choosing from among them would be very difficult. But Ruth didn’t ask me to name my “favorites”; she asked me to choose ones that have truly shaped me, that speak to me, that comprise my theology. This is a much more challenging task, but I’m willing to attempt it. Here are the ten I chose:


1. Love, Mercy And Grace

This hymn, written by C. Austin Miles and published by the Rodeheaver Co. in the early part of the twentieth century, is #153 in the Cokesbury Hymnal, which was used by the Methodist Church I attended as a child. I don’t recall that we ever sang it on Sunday morning, but it was a rousing favorite at Sunday evening services. (Cokesbury, by the way, is a combination of the names of the first two American bishops in the Methodist Church, Thomas Coke and Francis Asbury.)

’Twas love that gave at greatest cost
A Life, that mine should not be lost.
The Love that died in deep despair
My debt fully satisfied there.

Chorus:
It was Love that took my place
On the cross of Calvary;
It was grace, redeeming grace,
That paid my ransom full and free.
Over sin, without, within,
I have the victory,
Through grace, marvelous grace,
That lives in me.

The love that freely all forgives
In fullness now within me lives;
Through ev’ry trial this I see;
His grace is sufficient for me. (Chorus)

God’s love, His mercy and His grace,
Combine to raise a fallen race;
His hand is ready, ere we call,
Held out with forgiveness for all. (Chorus)


2. Beneath The Cross of Jesus

This one, #29 in the Cokesbury hymnal, was more of a Sunday morning hymn and always moved me:

Beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand,
The shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land;
A home within the wilderness, a rest upon the way.
From the burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day.

Upon that cross of Jesus mine eye at times can see
The very dying form of One Who suffered there for me;
And from my smitten heart with tears two wonders I confess, --
The wonders of His glorious love and my unworthiness.

I take, O cross, thy shadow for my abiding place;
I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of His face;
Content to let the world go by, to know no gain or loss.
My sinful self my only shame, my glory all the cross.


3. All Your Anxiety

I didn't learn this one until I was an adult and no longer Methodist. When I heard it, these two passages of Scripture came to mind: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7) and “Casting all your care upon him, for he cares for you.” (I Peter 5:7).

Is there a heart o’er-bound by sorrow?
Is there a life weighed down by care?
Come to the cross, each burden bearing,
All your anxiety -- leave it there.

Chorus:
All your anxiety, all your care,
Bring to the Mercy-seat, leave it there;
Never a burden He cannot bear,
Never a friend like Jesus.

No other friend so keen to help you;
No other friend so quick to hear;
No other place to leave your burden;
No other one to hear your prayer. (Chorus)

Come then, at once, delay no longer;
Heed His entreaty, kind and sweet;
You need not fear a disappointment,
You shall find peace at the mercy-seat. (Chorus)


4. Christ the Lord Is Risen Today

This is Charles Wesley’s great Easter hymn, but it is good for every day of the year. I especially like the second verse with its words straight out of the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians:

Christ the Lord is risen to day, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say: Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King: Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Dying once, He all doth save: Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won; Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids Him rise; Alleluia!
Christ has opened Paradise. Alleluia!

Soar we now, where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head; Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise; Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. Alleluia!


5. Like a River Glorious

I have loved these words of Frances Ridley Havergal ever since I first heard them many years ago. The chorus reminds me of Isaiah 26:3, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.”:

Like a river, glorious is God’s perfect peace.
Over all victorious in its bright increase;
Perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day,
Perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way.

Chorus:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest;
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.

Hidden in the hollow of His blessed hand,
Never foe can follow, never traitor stand;
Not a surge of worry, not a shade of care,
Not a blast of hurry touch the Spirit there. (Chorus)

Every joy or trial falleth from above,
Traced upon our dial by the Sun of Love.
We may trust him fully all for us to do;
They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true. (Chorus)


6. Jesus, I Come

This is another hymn I have known since childhood days. I have always preferred it to the more familiar invitation hymn, Just As I Am, for its rich message:

Out of my bondage, sorrow and night,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into Thy freedom, gladness and light,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of my sickness into Thy health,
Out of my want and into Thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into Thyself,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of my shameful failure and loss,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the glorious gain of Thy cross,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of earth’s sorrows into Thy balm,
Out of life's storms and into Thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of unrest and arrogant pride,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into thy blessed will to abide,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of myself to dwell in Thy love,
Out of despair into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the joy and light of Thy home,
Jesus, I come to Thee.
Out of the depths of ruin untold,
Into the peace of Thy sheltering fold,
Ever Thy glorious face to behold, Jesus I come to Thee.


7. I Sing the Mighty Power of God

Several hymns are set to the tune called ELLACOMBE, but the one I like best uses these words written by Isaac Watts. It brings to mind the words of a psalm written by David: “The heavens tell of the glory of God. The skies display his marvelous craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known. They speak without a sound or a word; their voice is silent in the skies; yet their message has gone out to all the earth, and their words to all the world.” (Psalm 19:1-4) as well as the creation story in the first chapter of Genesis:

I sing the mighty power of God,
That made the mountains rise;
That spread the flowing seas abroad,
And built the lofty skies.
I sing the wisdom that ordained
The sun to rule the day;
The moon shines full at His command,
And all the stars obey.

I sing the goodness of the Lord,
That filled the earth with food;
He formed the creatures with His word,
And then pronounced them good.
Lord, how Thy wonders are displayed
Where’er I turn my eye:
If I survey the ground I tread
Or gaze upon the sky!

There’s not a plant or flower below,
But makes Thy glories known;
And clouds arise, and tempests blow,
By order from Thy throne;
While all that borrows life from Thee
Is ever in Thy care,
And ev’rywhere that man can be,
Thou, God, are present there.


8. The Sands Of Time

This hymn was written in the nineteenth century and has many more verses than the four that usually appear in old hymnals. I especially like the last verse. Since one metaphor for the Church is the Bride of Christ, the song applies to every Christian regardless of gender:

The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sighed for; the fair, sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

O Christ! He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!
The streams on earth I’ve tasted, more deep I’ll drink above:
There, to an ocean fullness, His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

Oh, I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved’s mine!
He brings a poor vile sinner into his “house of wine.”
I stand upon His merit, I know no other stand,
Not e’en where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;
I will not gaze at glory, but on my King of grace.
Not at the crown He giveth, but on His piercéd hand,
The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.


9. Holy, Holy, Holy

I could sing this hymn every single day and it would never get old:

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!

Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before The,
Who wert and art and evermore shall be.

Holy, holy, holy! Though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in pow’r, in love, and purity.

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth and sky and sea;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!

10. Abide With Me, ’Tis Eventide

This beautiful evening hymn was inspired by the passage in Luke 24:13-32, an account of two disciples who encountered Jesus on the road to Emmaus on the very day of His resurrection. Click on the link above to hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing this hymn.

Abide with me, ’tis eventide.
The day is past and gone;
The shadows of the evening fall;
The night is coming on.
Within my heart a welcome guest,
Within my home abide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, ’tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, ’tis eventide.

Abide with me; ’tis eventide,
And lone will be the night
If I cannot commune with thee,
Nor find in thee my light.
The darkness of the world, I fear,
Would in my home abide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, ’tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, ’tis eventide.

Abide with me; ’tis eventide.
Thy walk today with me
Has made my heart within me burn,
As I communed with thee.
Thy earnest words have filled my soul
And kept me near thy side.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, ’tis eventide.
O Savior, stay this night with me;
Behold, ’tis eventide.


But wait, you may be saying, what about “Crown Him With Many Crowns” and “He The Pearly Gates Will Open” and “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise” and “Calvary Covers It All” and “How Great Thou Art” and “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” and “Blessed Assurance” and a hundred others? I know, I know. There are so many great hymns and so little room in this meme.

Nearly forty years ago, when our family attended a large non-denominational church in south Florida, one of the first national music conferences ever held in the evangelical world was held right there at our church. Don Hustad, organist for many of Billy Graham’s crusades, gave the keynote address at the first session. I have never forgotten what he said: We should worship the Triune God -- Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - with a trinity of music, he said, speaking to ourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, always singing and making melody in our hearts to the Lord (Ephesians 5:19).

From the archives: First night of Hanukkah, er, Chanukah, er, the Festival of Lights

[Note. At sundown tonight -- Sunday, December 21, 2008 -- Hanukkah begins. This post was first published on December 4, 2007. --RWP]

At sundown tonight, the eight-day Jewish holiday known as Hanukkah begins. Hanukkah (or Chanukah, or however you choose to spell it) marks the
re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem after its desecration by the forces of Antiochus IV (around 165 B.C.). It commemorates the “miracle of the container of oil.” According to the Talmud, at the re-dedication following the victory of the Maccabees over the Seleucid Empire, there was only enough consecrated olive oil to fuel the eternal flame in the Temple for one day. Miraculously, the oil burned for eight days, which was the length of time it took to press, prepare and consecrate fresh olive oil. Each evening during Hanukkah, another candle is lit on the menorah until, on the final day, the entire menorah is lit.

The dreidel, a four-sided top, is used for a game played during Hanukkah. Each side of the dreidel bears a letter of the Hebrew alphabet: נ (Nun), ג (Gimel), ה (Hei), and ש (Shin), which together form the acronym for the Hebrew phrase
“נס גדול היה שם” (Nes Gadol Haya Sham) which means “a great miracle happened there.” [Note. Most of the information in the preceding two paragraphs was taken from Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia.]

No matter what anyone might have told you, Hanukkah is not “the Jewish Christmas.”

In the interest of full disclosure, my mother was Jewish (non-practicing) and my father was Christian (lapsed Methodist). I was raised Christian and have never attended a synagogue, but for years I struggled with my own identity. I wondered whether I was Christian or Jewish or half-Jewish, whatever that meant, and whether there could even be such a thing as “half-Jewish.” In 1962, Mrs. Lydia Buksbazen of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, whose husband Victor headed the Friends of Israel missionary organization, told me, “Hitler would have considered you Jewish.” So basically, if my great-grandfather Max Silberman had not left Germany and come to America in the 1860s, we might not be having this conversation.