Vashti Lives!

This post interprets the Megillah in a way that is not p'shat but remez. In other words, there is more to the Megillah than what meets the eye. Alongside its straightforward meaning, there is another dimension to the text which tells a second, parallel story. Yes, the Megillah is both history and allegory at the very same time; as God unfolds history, He speaks.

We must first accept two givens:

1) The Gaon of Vilna teaches that every time it says the word "King" in the Megillah it is an allegorical reference to God.

2) The sages tells us that the covenant at Sinai was a "marriage" between God and the Jewish nation. (King Solomon's Song of Songs takes this allegory and runs with it.)

If we add up these two traditions we get this result: The wives of Ahashveirosh are the Jews. Stay with me here.

In the beginning, God provided us with an unending, indulgent feast. Our every whim was provided for and the King asked for only one thing in return: that His wife come to Him. To show the world how beautiful she is. But we refused.

The King had no choice. He decreed that his wife lose her position as His queen. This is the destruction of the First Temple. But nowhere does it say that Vashti was actually killed.

Maimonides writes that one of the ways of repentance is to change your name, casting off your old, sinful identity. At some point during the Babylonian exile, the Jews repented. Vashti became Esther.

However, even "Esther" does not come of her own volition. When God chose the Jews at Sinai, He menacingly held the mountain over them, giving them no choice but to accept. Esther and the Jews are "Chosen." One cannot chose to be Chosen.

The relationship thus remains unconsummated. The King wants the Queen to prove her love. He still pines for the day that His Queen will overcome all obstacles and come to Him on her own. So He comes up with a creative plan: He orchestrates a disaster. The King decrees that the Queen be destroyed. (Of course, the King loves His wife and intends her no harm. That is why, in the Megillah, even as the decree is signed by the king's signet ring, the queen is perfectly safe in the palace.)

The plan works! Risking her life, the Queen comes to the King, recognizing that He is the only one who will save her.

Of course, coming to the King wasn't easy for Esther. It meant losing her beloved Mordechai, for the King is obviously not willing to share the Queen. Coming to the King is synonymous with transcending all of our personal desires and agendas. But there is nothing to fear. The King promises to spilt the kingdom with the Queen 50/50!

The story is indeed bizarre. The Queen turns to the King for help when the King is the one who created the problem in the first place?! But this paradox is the reality that we must recognize on Purim: Ad D'Lo Yada... Drink until we don't know anymore what good and what is not...

The decree was a ruse, but it accomplished its task. The Jews embrace their relationship with God, accepting their traditions with love. At long last, the Temple can be rebuilt.

Happy Purim!

In the Mood for Tisha B'Av?

Sunday was the seventeenth of Taamuz and next Shabbat is the first of Av. Which means one thing: Tisha B’Av is approaching. On Tisha B’Av, Jerusalem was lost and the Temple was destroyed. It is the day we were exiled from our homeland and the day the Diaspora began. It is the saddest day of the year and we need to start preparing for it now.

Of all the Jewish days on the calendar, Tisha B’Av is the most difficult to observe. Nobody has trouble relating to the festive holidays. All year we look forward to Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot, Pesach and Shavuot. Everybody loves Chanukah and Purim. Even when it comes to Yom Kippur, as hard as it may be for us to face the challenge of personal growth, we still manage to experience the holiness of the day by giving repentance our best shot. Tisha B’Av, however, is another story. On Tisha B’Av you can’t satisfy yourself by going through the motions. There are no motions. There are only tears. Either you have them or you don’t.

On Tisha B’Av there is no Shofar to blow, no Seder to lead, and no Menorah to light. It does not call for any external action at all. What it calls for is emotion. Fasting and mourning are simultaneously the means to inspire somber reflection and the natural reaction to the burning issues of the day. Tisha B’Av demands consciousness of our national history, empathy for our national pain, and sharing our national aspirations. Tisha B’Av is aimed directly at our hearts, and that is why it is such a challenge.

There is a popular misconception that observing Tisha B’Av is only for Jews who are passionate about Judaism. Nothing could be further from the truth. Such mistaken thinking is the result of an ignorance of how mitzvot operate. Jewish identity is by no means a required prerequisite for the observance of Tisha B’Av. Quite the opposite. The observance of Tisha B’Av itself generates Jewish identity.

It is not expected that people will naturally feel joy on the holidays or grief on Tisha B’Av. If it came to us naturally, there would be no mitzvah. Our job is to make the effort to inspire these feelings within. By focusing on the tragedies of our history, by empathizing with the suffering of our people, and by recognizing that Divine intervention is our only hope, we connect with our past, we unite with our people, and we awaken our souls. That is the mitzvah of Tisha B’Av.

The Talmud tells us that the Second Temple was destroyed because of baseless hatred. A breakdown of community is something G-d does not tolerate. So He left. After functioning as a sanctuary for G-d’s Presence for 420 years, the Temple became no more than an empty building.

Having been destroyed spiritually, it was only a matter of time before it was destroyed physically. It stands to reason that as long as hatred exists among Jews, the Divine Presence will not return to Jerusalem.

But it is not the mere eradication of hate that we are after. Love is our goal. How can we uproot the evil of hate, replace it with love, and put an end to our exile? Tisha B’Av is the answer.

It is very easy to talk about love, unity, and identity, but how do you know if it is real? We convince ourselves that we have fulfilled the mitzvah of loving our fellow Jews, but have we? The question we need to ask ourselves is this: Do we share the joys of our brothers and sisters? Do we feel their pain? Do we feel for the nation as a whole? Such feelings do not materialize by themselves; they need to be cultivated and developed. It is for this reason that we have Tisha B’Av. On Tisha B’Av we move beyond self-centeredness into other-centeredness. We deepen our relationship with our fellow Jews by allowing the suppressed love and concern within our souls to break through to the surface.

Today we have been over-saturated with tragedy and our hearts have hardened. We have lost our sensitivity and we have forgotten how to cry. Tisha B’Av restores our hearts back to the warm, empathetic Jewish heart that it was designed to be. By mourning the tragedies of our history right down to the present day, we teach our hearts to feel again. The sadness of Tisha B’Av is not a depression that breaks you; it is a compassionate sadness that fixes and heals.

On Tisha B'Av, we mourn our distance from G-d, we cleanse any residue of hate from our hearts, and we forge a more meaningful relationship with our people, our land, and our G-d. Every Jew needs Tisha B’Av. But in order the have a successful Tisha B’Av, one cannot wait until the ninth of Av. Preparations must begin weeks in advance.

The inner work of Tisha B’Av is too important and too difficult for just one day. The mourning period therefore begins three weeks earlier on the seventeenth of Tammuz. The mourning starts on a low level, easily accessible to all. Slowly, as we enter the month of Av, the mourning intensifies until the climax is reached on the fast of Tisha B’Av.

There are no shortcuts. It is difficult to experience a meaningful Tisha B’Av if the earlier stages are skipped. But if one prepares properly during the “Three Weeks,” learning the lessons of our painful history, observing the mourning practices of the period and slowly increasing consciousness of the sad state of the Jewish world, then Tisha B’Av will be what it was meant to be. A day on which the core of our Jewish identity is revealed in all of its beauty. There is no other day like it.

Free at Fifty

The study of p’shat, the straightforward meaning of the Torah text, is a pursuit which can supply a lifetime of study, wisdom and inspiration. However, Torah study is not limited to this approach. P’shat is only one of the Torah’s multiple universes. Sometimes, the façade of p’shat cracks and the Torah’s deeper dimensions come to the fore.

This week’s parsha begins with the mitzvah of Shmitah, the Sabbatical year.

When you come to the land that I am giving you, the land must be given a rest period, a Shabbat to God. For six years you may plant your fields, prune your vineyards and harvest your crops, but the seventh year is a sabbatical Shabbat for the land.

Vayikra 25:2-3

The Torah continues with Yovel, the Jubilee year.

You shall count seven sabbatical years, that is, seven times seven years. The period of the seven sabbatical cycles shall thus be forty-nine years. You shall make a proclamation with the ram’s horn... You shall sanctify the fiftieth year declaring emancipation of [Hebrew] slaves for the land and all who live in it. This is your jubilee year, when each man shall return to his hereditary property and to his family.

Ibid 25:8-9,10

After counting seven Shmitah periods, we arrive at Yovel, the fiftieth and final year of the cycle. Jews who sold themselves into slavery to escape poverty or were sold as slaves to pay off debts incurred by stealing are released and return home. Similarly, hereditary fields that had been sold during the course of the past fifty years return to their original owners on Yovel. Everything returns to its default position. It’s as if someone hit the reset button.

It is virtually impossible to study these mitzvot without bringing to mind a mitzvah from last week’s parsha.

You shall count seven complete weeks after the day following the [Passover] holiday… until the day after the seventh week, when there will be [a total of] fifty days… This very day shall be celebrated as a sacred holiday…

Ibid 23:15-16,21

This is the mitzvah of Sefirat HaOmer, a mitzvah to count the days from the Exodus on Passover to the revelation at Sinai on Shavuot fifty days later. (This Shabbat is the twenty-seventh day of the Omer.)

The Omer count follows the exact same pattern as the Yovel cycle! In both we are instructed to count sets of seven days/years seven times. And then, the following day/year, the fiftieth, is sanctified. Moreover, just as a ram’s horn was blown on Yovel, the fiftieth year, a ram’s horn was also blown at Sinai on Shavuot, the fiftieth day. “There was the sound of a ram’s horn, increasing in volume to a great degree…” (Shemot 19:19). What are we to make of all this? Do these cycles share a deeper commonality?

This isn’t going to be easy.

In the Yovel cycle, Jewish slaves are freed on the fifty year. We count the years leading up to their freedom. This is quite the opposite from the Omer cycle where the counting begins after the Jews gain their freedom from enslavement in Egypt. It would seem that the two sanctified fifties, Yovel and Shavuot, have nothing in common.

P’shat isn’t providing answers, so we turn to the Mishnah for assistance.

The only person who is free is the one who toils in the study of Torah.

Ethics of the Fathers 6:2

The Torah sets us free. This explains everything! Shavuot is the day we got the Torah at Sinai and we became free, just like Yovel!

Great. But free from what? Didn’t we leave Egypt fifty days earlier?

The Torah is throwing a wrench into our understanding of Jewish history. Maybe we didn’t gain total freedom at the Exodus. Maybe we were still enslaved to something for forty-nine more days until we were truly emancipated on Shavuot. But what could that something be?

The answer is right before our eyes, but we would prefer not to face it. With the receiving of the Torah on Shavuot we were freed from self-enslavement. For as long as Torah is lacking, as long as objective truth and mitzvot are missing from the world, man is destined to be the slave of his own negative drives. Without the system of Judaism to elevate us, in the absence of the service the God, we are left with nothing more than the service of the self.

It turns out that the two fifties, Yovel and Shavuot, are identical. What happens on Yovel? The Jewish slave, a man who is the sole cause of his own slavery, is set free. A hereditary field, which was sold by the owner himself, returns to where it belongs. This is the very same power of Shavuot. The Torah frees man from his self-imposed slavery and returns him to his true self.

On Pesach we gained physical freedom, but we were still slaves. By counting the days of the Omer we recognize that we need more than an Exodus, we need a deeper kind of freedom. A freedom that can only be found fifty days later on a hill called Sinai.

Purim Afterthoughts, Part II

For the first time, I have made extensive use of Hebrew in this post. Don't worry, I don't intend to make a habit of it. My apologies to all readers who feel left out, but Hebrew makes it is easier to keep things brief and I'm pressed for time. Special thanks to my father, Rabbi Noam Gordon of Jerusalem, for encouraging me to put my Purim thoughts in writing. There is much here that is neither new nor mine, but I believe there is enough that warrents a post. To fully appreciate this post, I recommend reading part one first.

Right before Amalek attacks, we read:

וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם הַמָּקוֹם, מַסָּה וּמְרִיבָה. עַל-רִיב בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְעַל נַסֹּתָם אֶת-יְהוָה לֵאמֹר, הֲיֵשׁ יְהוָה בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ, אִם-אָיִן. וַיָּבֹא, עֲמָלֵק

Amalek is not a trible, but a way of thinking. It is the force in the universe that refuses to recognize the Hand of God and the Chosenness of Israel. After the Exodus the Jews were hot and untouchable, but then they doubted God's presence. It was this doubt that introduces an Amalek who smashes the aura of reverence and cools things down. Ever since, Hashem's Throne and Name are damaged, and so they will remain until the day that Amalek is annihilated.

That day is tomorrow. Moshe told Yehoshua, בחר לנו אנשים וצא הלחם בעמלק מחר. King David overtook Amalek, ויכם דוד מהנשף ועד הערב למחרתם. And Esther told Achashveirosh, ינתן גם מחר ליהודים. Why is it always tomorrow? Because the destruction of Amalek is not merely the physical destruction of an evil race. It is the destruction of our own lack of clarity about who is the One running the show. And that can only come when we get to the end of the story and can go back and read it again from the beginning. Tomorrow.

Chanukah is in the past. רבת את רבם, דנת את דינם, נקמת את נקמתם (Al Ha'Nissim for Chanukah). But the Megillah is today. הרב את רבינו, הדן את דנינו, הנוקם את נקמתינו (Asher Heini). Purim is happening now because in every generation Amalek rises up to destroy us. מלחמה ליהוה בעמלק מדור דור - בכל דור ודור עומדים עלינו לכלותינו. This is why we say in Shoshanas Yaakov that the Megillah is a source of hope in every generation: "ותקותם בכל דור ודור" (R. Dovid Cohen, "ימי פורים"). The Megillah gives us hope because we are always in the middle of it!

We live in the Megillah today and Purim is tomorrow. For the destruction of Amalek only comes after Amalek is already gone.

והיה בהניח יהוה אלוהיך לך מכל איביך מסביב... תמחה את זכר עמלק

"זכר עמלק" - the residue of Amalek. This זכר can be erased only when Amalek and all of his cohorts are gone - בהניח יהוה אלוהיך לך מכל איביך - because to erase the זכר of Amalek we need מנוחה. We need מנוחה to reread the story slowly and see Hashem's Hand guiding things from the get go. We need מנוחה to recognize the רפואה before the מכה. This is why והיה בהניח must happen first.

When we are in the midst of things, we are בדרך. And Amalek always gets us on the דרך. When we are on the road, attempting to navigate through the darkness of our story, we suffer from the anxiety of frightening events and Hashem's apparent absence. We lack מנוחה, and עמלק & ספק (same gematria) enter our lives. אשר קרך בדרך. Our job is to destroy this זכר of Amalek, and that can be done only with the מנוחה that comes after Amalek is gone. That is why Purim is celebrated not on the 13th when we killed Amalek, but on the 14th when we had מנוחה. As the פסוק states, "ונוח בארבעה עשר בו". Purim is always on the morrow.

And now we come to Yerushalayim. Even when Yerushalayimites read the Megillah at night they are not fasting. Yerushalayim has that extra clarity. And Yerushalayim, Hashem's throne, always celebrates Purim tomorrow. On the fifteen, when יום טוב is supposed to be.

This is why פורים משולש is celebrated on Sunday. The day after. Shabbos requires none of the מצות היום of Purim, for the מנוחה of Shabbos itself destroys Amalek (Zohar, עי' שפת אמת). With the help of the מנוחה and clarity of Shabbos, Purim is pushed beyond Purim into an ordinary day of the year, the 16th, bringing the tomorrow we are all waiting for ever closer into our world.

Purim Afterthoughts

With Haman hanged and my hangover behind me, I'm going to try to put some Purim thoughts on paper (um, whatever). I've got to keep this short; a Focus deadline is fast approaching and I'm pressed for time. So wish me luck. V'Hameivin Yavin.

There are two Megillahs.

One Megillah is a story of exile; a story of attempted annihilation; a story of God's absence; a story of hopelessness. It is a frightening read. It is read at night, while we fast. Obviously, this Megillah has no seudah associated with it.

There is another Megillah. This Megillah is a story of redemption, a story of a refuah set up in advance of a makkah, a story where the Hand of God is as clear as day. It is a delight to read. It is read in the daytime and it generates a mitzvah to party - hard. This second Megillah is created by the first Megillah. Once we get to the end of the story, we are impelled to read it again from the beginning. And the second time around it's a very different story.

The Talmud teaches: "Anyone who says things in the name of the one who first said them brings redemption to the world." (Sorry, I forgot who said that.) The source for this idea is Esther. She reported an assassination attempt in the name of Mordechai and this, says the Talmud, brought redemption to the world.

Did it, really? By all appearances, all her report accomplished was to get Mordechai a free ride on a horse. Redemption came through Esther's influence with the king. The entire episode of Mordechai's foiling the assassination and his subsequent reward could be deleted from the Megillah with no ill effect. The scene of Haman leading Mordechai through the streets is gratifying and comical, but it is certainly not necessary for redemption. Why does the Talmud think otherwise?

When Haman returns home and tells his wife what happened, she responds by saying that if Mordechai is indeed of Jewish desent, then Haman is finished. Prophetic words; indeed, within a few short hours, her husband was dead. But how did she know? Yes, he had a bad day, but he was still the most powerful man in the empire and he was on his way to a private party with the king and the queen. Zeresh had no way of knowing that Esther was Jewish! She should have told her husband to take a hot shower, get over it and cheer up. How did she know that Haman was doomed?

Zeresh was a smart lady. She knew it was no mere coincidence that just as Haman is about to ask the king for permission to kill Mordechai, the king is reminded that Mordechai saved his life. Instead of hanging Mordechai, Haman is dressing him in the king's clothes and leading him through the streets on the king's horse?! This can mean only one thing. The God of Israel has arrived. And when the God of Israel shows up, it's game over.

By reporting the assassination attempt in the name of Mordechai, Esther created the avenue through which God arrives on the scene. The Talmud is only affirming what Zeresh saw. It is God's arrival that guarantees redemption; not Esther's political shenanigans.

Zeresh's insight echoes Mordechai's sharp response to Esther just a few days earlier: "Revach v'hatzalah ya'amod la'Yehudim mimakom acher." We don't need you, Esther. If you do nothing, the Jews will be saved some other way. God will show up in due time. The only question is if you will play a role.

Zeresh and Mordechai think alike. We don't need Esther.

Some people wonder why God's Name does not appear in the Megillah, but Reb Shlomo Charlebach doesn't understand the question. Why should God's Name be in the Megillah? God is the one telling us the story!

With Shlomo's insight, we gain a new appreciation for the words of the sages. "Anyone who says things in the name of the one who first said them brings redemption to the world." We need to remember that God was the one who first said the Megillah. He spoke when Vashti was killed and Esther was chosen, He spoke when Mordechai overheard Bigson & Seresh, and He spoke when Achashveirosh couldn't sleep that night. God wrote and directed this story. We should cite Him as the source of redemption, not Esther.

If Zeresh recognized this truth, so should we. And when we do, we create an avenue that brings God, and redemption, into the world.

The Passing Ring

Not more than a two hours ago in the holiest city in the world, in a house of Torah study on the eve of the happiest month something happened... Please ask yourself what happened.. to whom and why and what you will do about it... will you sit tonight fork and knife in hand over a thick steak.. perhaps watch a movie or read... will your life go on with nothing more than a shrug?

I sure hope not.

Piggyback Ride, Anyone?

An unusual design feature in the vestments of the Kohen Gadol (High Priest) set me thinking. It's hard to describe without a photo, but considering that the Torah prefers things that way (see our post on parshat Terumah), we'll stick to verbal descriptions. I couldn't find a decent online image for it anyhow.

Both literally and figuratively, the "Choshen" was the centerpiece of the Kohen Gadol's outfit. An extravagant breastplate with the names of the twelve tribes etched onto its twelve precious stones, the Choshen was bound to the Kohen Gadol's chest with golden and woolen cords.

Aaron will thus carry the names of the Children of Israel on the Choshen of Judgment upon his heart when he comes into the sanctuary. It shall be a constant remembrance before God."

Shemot 28:29

Interestingly, the Torah describes how the Choshen was attached to the Kohen's body even before it tells us what the Choshen is. Moreover, the Torah spends more verses describing this method of attachment than it spends describing the Choshen itself! The Torah is emphasizing a seemingly insignificant detail; we would do well to take a closer look.

The Choshen was attached to the body by means of the "Eiphod." While certain elements of the Eiphod's design are a mystery, the points relevant to our discussion are quite clear. (That is, despite certain textual ambiguities, both Rashi and the Rambam are in agreement as to the Torah's meaning. We can speak with confidence.)

The Eiphod was sort of an apron worn backwards which tied on above the waist with a built-in belt. In the back, two straps went up from the belt, extending over the Kohen's shoulders, and at the shoulder, each of these straps had golden setting for a sardonyx stone. Like the stones of the Choshen, these stones had the names of all twelve tribes etched into them - six tribes on one stone and six on the other.

Place the two stones on the two shoulder straps of the Eiphod as remembrance stones for the Children of Israel. Aaron shall carry their names on his two shoulders before God as a remembrance.

Shemot 28:12

Right beneath the two stones, two golden cords descended from the shoulder straps and looped through rings at the top two corners of the square Choshen. This held the Choshen securely from the top, but that alone would not prevent the Chosen from swinging away from the body when the Kohen leaned forward. For that, there were another two rings on the bottom two corners of the Choshen, through which two woolen cords were drawn and tied down to the Eiphod.

Here is the interesting point in the design. We might have expected those bottom two cords to attach directly to the belt of the Eiphod beneath them. But this is not the case. The Torah tells us to draw the two cords around to the Kohen's back and tie them to rings at the bottom of the shoulder straps (28:27-28). It seems that the entire Choshen, all four corners of it, must be supported exclusively by the Eiphod's shoulder straps. Strange, is it not?

In order to understand this design feature, we must first understand the meaning of the Choshen itself.

The story of the Choshen begins in a much darker era, at a time when no one dared dream of a Mishkan. Newborn babes lie dead at the floor of the Nile, Jewish slaves pick cotton in the Egyptian fields, and God is meeting with Moshe at a bush in the desert. God tells Moshe to return to Egypt and redeem the Jews, but Moshe has concerns. He is worried about his speech defect, and he is worried how this mission will affect his relationship with his older brother. Moshe suggests that God send Aaron instead.

God got angry at Moshe. "I am well aware that Aaron your brother, the Levite, is a good speaker. He is setting out to greet you, and when he sees you, he will rejoice in his heart!"

Shemot 4:14

This is the majesty of Aaron. Transcending the sibling rivalry endemic to the book of Bereishit, he is happy for his younger brother's success. A heart of this caliber deserves a little jewelry.

Rabbi Milai said, "In reward for [Aaron's] seeing [Moshe] and rejoicing in his heart, Aaron merited that the Choshen of Judgment would be on his heart."

Talmud, Shabbat 139a

It seems that the placement of the twelve tribes on the Kohen Gadol's heart is a symbol of his selfless, brotherly love for the entire nation. But what is the secret of the Choshen of Judgment? What will stop people from judging others negatively? How can we ensure that all twelve tribes are held securely against our hearts? What will prevent personal agendas from getting in the way of love for the nation? The answer is obvious: Strap the nation on your shoulders!

If we place all twelve tribes on our shoulders, if we step up to the plate and take responsibility for the Jewish People, if we lift up the names of the Children of Israel and carry them proudly, then we can be sure that the Choshen of Judgment will never sway from our hearts. Such was the message of the holy garments of the Kohen Gadol.

What do your clothes say?