I will admit it: I used to think it was a little bizarre. Lubavitchers going to airports to wrap tefillin on strangers. Stopping people on the street to light menorahs. Going to a correctional facility on the sixth night of Chanukah to celebrate with people none of us have met.
Then I went.
We decorated extensively: blow-up menorahs, dreidels, festive signage everywhere. An inmate recited the Chanukah blessings while attendees answered amen in unison. Then the singing started, and then the dancing, and then nobody was keeping track of time anymore.
The spread was serious: latkes, donuts, deli, beverages. Fire-juggling magicians performed card tricks. Comedian Yoely Leibowitz had the room laughing. We set up multiple menorahs so each person could say their own blessing and light their own flame.
As we were leaving, an inmate stopped us. He said that what we had done reminded him of Abraham — that Abraham ran to welcome strangers, and we had run to welcome them. That tears of joy had come from being celebrated and cared for. So yes, I still think it is a little bizarre. In the best possible way.
