But we don't dwell apart, not physically, anyway. We've always lived among others. And, since
Abraham and Sarah entered Canaan, Jews have grappled with a dilemma - how to fulfill our destiny as a people, living among a "family of nations".

The tension between "dwelling apart" and coalescing with our neighbors was present in
the "fleshpots of Egypt," in Spain, North Africa, Europe, and of course, in the Goldeneh Medinah
of America. It is an ongoing theme in the Torah and a preoccupation of the prophets. It is at the
heart of the Hanukkah story.

Yes, we rebelled against a repressive regime that tried to deny our religious expression. Yes, we
threw off the yoke of foreign rule and re-asserted an independent Jewish commonwealth in Israel.  And yes, the Talmud reports the miracle of the oil as the Maccabees rededicated the Temple.

Still, the historic Hanukkah was a civil war - between "Hellenizers" (who embraced Greek/secular ways) and traditionalists.

The tensions that erupted in the Hanukkah story were captured a hundred and fifty years later by Hillel: "If I am not for myself, who will be for me" and "If I am only for myself, what am I?"

Hillel connected these two seemingly contradictory comments for a reason. The tension between self-preservation and caring for others comes with the human condition. We have a set of guidelines to help us navigate that tension - it's called "Judaism."

When the stakes are higher, the dilemma feels more acute and distrust grows.  So it was in the conflicts with the Greeks and the Romans.

The "Hillel paradox" erupted during the recent "Operation Pillar of Defense" - Israel's response to hundreds of rockets fired against Israeli civilians from Gaza.

Rabbi Sharon Brous expressed solidarity with the people of Israel, but also addressed her heartache over the loss of life on both sides:  "...supporting Israel's right to protect and defend itself does not diminish the reality that the Palestinian people are also children of God, whose suffering is real and undeniable."

Her comments inspired condemnation from Rabbi Daniel Gordis, who described Brous' concern with Palestinian victims as an "inability to distinguish ourselves from the mass of humanity."  Gordis suggests that many American Jews "dare not care about ourselves any more than we care about others."

Gordis' article provoked a stream of responses.  All of them can be found here.  Gordis, Brous, and their respondents each address Hanukkah's central dilemma between dwelling apart and living among the nations.