WRY BREAD: Chanukah the whole year through

David Levine

With the New Year upon us, most of us have put away our Chanukah decorations – and with them, the spirit of the holiday season – not to return until next November, when the radio starts to warn us not to shout, cry or pout. 

But Chanukah is more than just a holiday – for one man, the lessons of Chanukah last the whole year. Meet Judah McCabe.

“The Maccabee victory over Hellenism is the most important spiritual moment of the Jewish calendar,” says McCabe. “And that’s my mission – shining a light to vanquish the darkness the whole year round.”

Hellenism – the spread of Greek culture that places value on personal comfort, and luxurious housing, clothing or food – was soundly defeated by the Maccabees approximately 2,100 years ago and has yet to reappear in the Jewish community. 

McCabe (born Judah Melmstein) says he was inspired by “the true message of the Maccabees” – community, devotion, and fuel scarcity – to change his name and devote his life to keeping his community free of Hellenistic influence.

In accordance with what he calls “Maccabean principles,” McCabe lives in a single, windowless room beneath  a 24-hour CHEEP-O™ convenience store (where he refuses to shop, citing “the obscenity of convenience”). His meagre kitchen contains only bread, salt and a grapefruit-sized wad of dried mud (“in case I start to enjoy the bread too much,” he explains). 

“Comfort is decadent and, therefore, a sin,” says McCabe. “That fact changed my life and allowed me to really connect with the Maccabee spirit.”

Each day, McCabe strives to enact his principals through good deeds in his community. “People love to talk about their community work,” McCabe told me, “but a Maccabee doesn’t talk. He acts.” 

After much convincing, McCabe allowed me to tag along as he spent an afternoon shining the light of Chanukah.

Our afternoon began with a walking tour of several upscale restaurants, where McCabe politely but firmly reminded patrons of the evils of material indulgence and the fate of the Hellenists in Jerusalem. “I think they heard me out,” McCabe told me afterward, “especially when I threatened their families. Who knows? Maybe this will motivate them to do tshuvah.” 

Next, I follow McCabe to a local shopping mall, to continue his one-on-one youth counselling project. 

“It’s simple,” says McCabe, crouching down outside an entrance. “This place is a temple to Hellenism. Anyone walking out with a bag is a Hellenist, so I make sure they know they’re unwanted in this town unless they renounce their ways.” 

Finally, we proceeded to the Jewish community centre parking lot, where McCabe spent several hours keying cars, occasionally stopping to slash the more expensive tires. 

“These heretics worship gods of chrome and leather,” mused McCabe, as he finished carving the word “sinner” across the hood of a Lincoln Navigator while humming Dreidl Dreidl Dreidl. “The pursuit of resale value is vanity. Trust in public transit and you will find redemption.” 

Community response to McCabe’s campaign of purification has been mixed. Many community leaders were glad to have a “spokesperson” who would “stand up for the neighbourhood,” while others were concerned about zealots in their community. 

McCabe is quick to correct the doubters. “Judah McCabe is not a zealot,” he says, suddenly in the third person, “Judah McCabe is a regular person who acts zealously. It’s not the same thing at all!” 

And, just like Santa’s endless joy, Judah’s zeal isn’t just a seasonal affair. 

“My message applies to every day of the calendar: you, too, can be a Maccabee! Bring Chanukah to life the whole year round! Reject materialism and luxury or face the military consequences that your neighbours think you deserve.”