Everyone knows the modern quip that American Jews eat Chinese food on Christmas. Less well known—but far older—is the tradition of playing chess This custom is rooted in a complex and often painful history surrounding Christmas Eve, a night that for centuries was anything but festive for Jewish communities.
Historically, Christmas Eve was frequently a dangerous time for Jews throughout Eastern and Central Europe. Jews were advised—or outright forbidden—by authorities to appear in public during Christian high holidays. Jewish schools and synagogues were often closed. In other places, violence was a real threat: pogroms, mob attacks, and harassment regularly occurred during Christmas celebrations. Out of concern that students might be attacked while traveling to study halls, rabbis prohibited leaving home to study Torah on that night. From this context emerged the custom of 𝑵𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒍 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒕.
Rather than gathering for Torah study, Jews remained indoors, prioritizing safety. Because Torah study is traditionally associated with joy and spiritual elevation, it was avoided on 𝑵𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒍 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒕, as a form of mourning—both for the historical suffering of Jews during Christmas seasons and, later, for the many lives lost in Christmas-related persecutions. With study and public activity curtailed, Jews sought permitted forms of diversion to pass a long, anxious night. Chess, a game of logic, strategy, and intellectual rigor, became a natural choice. It kept the mind sharp without violating religious prohibitions, and it required no public exposure. Card games and even gambling sometimes accompanied chess, since Christmas was neither a Jewish holiday nor the Sabbath—the usual times when such activities were restricted.
The origins of this custom trace back to 11th-century Germany, during the era of the Crusades—among the most brutal persecutions in Jewish history. Jewish communities in regions such as Alsace-Lorraine were devastated; cities like Speyer, Worms, and Mainz became vast Jewish graveyards. For Jews living through this terror, Christmas symbolized not goodwill, but catastrophe. The birth of Jesus—whom they did not recognize as divine and did not yet understand historically as a Jew himself—became associated with suffering and loss. His birthday, in their lived experience, marked a season of death.
Chess was particularly well-suited Judaic culture. It parallels Talmudic reasoning in its emphasis on foresight, layered strategy, and logical consequence. Medieval Jewish scholars recognized this affinity early on. Rashi, writing in 11th-century France, discussed the educational value of chess and even encouraged Jewish women to play. In 12th-century Spain, Abraham ibn Ezra composed a celebrated Hebrew poem praising the game:
𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓,
𝒀𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆,
𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒔.
The Ashkenazi tradition of playing chess on Christmas Eve—now more than four centuries old—originated not in leisure, but in survival. What began as a response to fear and enforced isolation endured long after pogroms waned, preserved in Hasidic communities as a meaningful custom. A Hasidic story captures the deeper symbolism of the game:
𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑹𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊 𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒇 𝒀𝒊𝒕𝒛𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒌 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝑵𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒍 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑹𝒆𝒃 𝑬𝒍𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝑫𝒐𝒗 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒂𝒅𝒋𝒐𝒗. 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑹𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒎 𝑩𝒆𝒓, 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚, “𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆.” 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅, 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆. “𝑨 𝑱𝒆𝒘 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑱𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒔, 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝒀𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆—𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌, 𝒂 𝑱𝒆𝒘 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈—𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔—𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.”
For the most part, the original conditions that gave rise to the practice—fear, restriction, and enforced seclusion—no longer apply. Nevertheless, the custom has endured, especially among Hasidic Jews, not out of necessity but as an inherited ritual of cultural memory. By the early nineteenth century, Jewish chess players were increasingly recognized as leading exponents of the game across Europe and America. An exemplary example would be Aaron (Albert) Alexandre, a renown chess master and prolific writer. He famously defeated Howard Staunton in an 1838 London match and authored major works.
In a famous Moritz Daniel Oppenheim painting, the words: ברוך אתה בבואך וברוך אתה בצאתך (Blessed shalt thou be when thou comest in, and blessed shalt thou be when thou goest out) are depicted above the doorway. This piece of art was symbolic of the Enlightenment period where Jewish integration into modern society was promoted. Oppenheim’s chess game between friends seems to capture the real-life theological debate where Swiss clergyman and poet, Johann Kaspar Lavater, tried to convert Moses Mendelssohn—and failed. Mendelssohn deflected the attempt with a plea for tolerance.
Today, playing chess on Christmas functions less as a response to danger and more as a conscious act of continuity. It is no longer an act of watchfulness born of necessity, but a way of passing the hours in quiet thought, while bearing witness to a modern world in which Jewish and Christian lives meet not in fear or exclusion, but in shared seasons and mutual respect.
Wishing you the joys of the season, with love,
Mirta Ines Trupp~ Author 