From Purim to Passover

Click the link below to listen to the fifth annual Anita Rossman Memorial Lecture, delivered last night in Santa Cruz, California.

From Purim to Passover: Lessons from Queen Esther on Courage, Sacrifice, and Redemption

Saving the Jews: The Great Mordechai - Esther Debate

An enigma lies at the heart of the Megillah.

It begins with Mordechai instructing Esther to appeal to the king to overturn the decree against the Jews. Esther responds that that would be suicide. Everyone knows that to enter the king's throne room uninvited is asking for instant death.

Do not misunderstand. Esther is not refusing to intercede on behalf of her people. Not at all. All she is saying is that it would be unhelpful to get herself killed. Even if the king does spare her life, violating the law is unlikely to gain the king's favor. Rather, the prudent course of action would be to wait until the next time the king calls for her. Then she will make her plea and save the Jews. The destruction of the nation is scheduled for the thirteenth of Adar - eleven months away - so there is plenty of time. 

Esther is aware that she has a critical role to play in the divine plan. Undoubtedly, the very same God who installed her as queen will also see to it that the king will grant her an audience and consent to her request. This is why Esther sent Mordechai a fresh set of clothes. She was telling Mordechai, "You can stop crying. I'll take care of it."

Esther's thinking is perfectly reasonable. Mordechai, however, won't hear of it. To paraphrase his response:

If you think you are safe in the palace, you are gravely mistaken. If you are silent now, the Jews will be saved some other way, and you and your family will be destroyed! Who knows if this is why you became queen?

Mordechai's confidence in the nation's future is inspiring, but his harsh words to Esther are in dire need of an explanation.

Mordechai is questioning Esther's assumptions about why Hashem made her queen of the Persian Empire. Esther thinks she is there to intercede on behalf of the Jews. Mordachei differs. "Who knows if this is why you became queen?" In the absence of prophecy Hashem's plans are unknowable. Hashem will see to the survival of the Jews; the question is only what He wants from us. 

Mordechai recognized that the decree to destroy the Jews was not merely the collusion of Haman and Achashveirosh; the decree has its origin in heaven. The sages of the Talmud assumed the same and wondered what the Jews had done to deserve such a fate. Some suggested it was the sin of attending Achasveirosh's party. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai attributed it to the sin of bowing to statues of Nebuchadnezzar. Regardless, the Jews are not in need of protexia, what they need is atonement.

One method of achieving atonement is through sacrifice. In the absence of the Beis HaMikdash, animal sacrifice is unavailable. However, there is another kind of sacrifice, the sacrifice of tzaddikim. "The death of tzaddikim atones like the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash." 

Mordechai was telling Esther that, in his opinion, Hashem had selected her as the national Korban. "Either you go to the king now and sacrifice yourself, or Hashem will take you some other way. One way or the other, atonement for the nation will come through you."

Esther accepted Mordechai's assessment of the situation, but disagreed on the solution. Mordechai thought that as the chosen one, responsibility for the nation fell on Esther's shoulders. Esther differed. She believed that if the nation was in need of sacrifice, then it should come directly from the the people themselves. They were the ones who sinned and so they must rectify it. Esther therefore instructed Mordechai to gather all the Jews together and institute a three-day fast. After the people gain forgiveness for their sins through tefillah and teshuva with mesiras nefesh, then it will be safe for Esther to approach the king.

Mordechai recognized the truth of Esther's words and followed her instructions. The rest is history.

Haman Saves the Day

Click the link below to hear the audio recording of today's shiur at Gerber & Co. Once again, we are indebted to Mr. Selwyn Gerber for hosting.

Haman Saves the Day

How Hashem used our enemies to bolster our faith and pave the way for redemption.

Happy Belated Purim!

Here is a link to a shiur delivered at Gerber & Co. before Purim. It's about priests and kings and their clothes - and how Purim takes God's monarchy to a whole new level. (Please excuse my raspy voice; I had a cold.)

My only addendum is a better example for the final point in the shiur. The Gemora (Megillah 12b-13a) reports something unsurprising: the Jews of Shushan were critical of Mordechai's refusal to bow to Haman. This incited Haman's hated and led to the decree to annihilate the Jews. It is understandable that the people blamed Mordechai, but in retrospect, Mordechai's failure to bow led not to the destruction of the Jews but to the hanging of Haman. So much for human judgement.

This is why we drink until we can't tell the different between right and wrong. On Purim we realize that we never can.

Purim Afterthoughts II: The King and I

For maximum effect, I recommend reading part-one first. However, this piece stands alone quite well by itself.

The Talmud asks the question: Why did Esther invite Haman to her private party with Achadhveirosh? Her job was to beseech the king to revoke the decree against the Jews. There is no need for Haman to be there. (cf. Megillah 15b)

Many different explanations are proposed. Rabbi Nechemya explains that Esther was concerned that despite the terrible decree and the call for a fast, the Jews were not really praying. The man on the street just wasn’t worried. “We have a sister in the palace!” The Jews felt they had protexia; Esther would save the day. Esther needed to frighten them, so she threw a party for Haman and the king. The Jews had no way of explaining her behavior other than to assume she had abandoned her people and joined the enemy. Now they really started to pray. This is why Esther waited for the following day before she made her request.

According to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korcha, Esther’s plan was much darker. She planned to flirt with Haman at the party, giving Achashveirosh the impression that they were having an affair. She hoped this would infuriate the king and he would execute them both. The Talmud validates this approach, sourcing Achashveirosh’s inability to sleep to his fear of a coup by Haman and Esther (cf. Esther 6:1).

Rabbi Shimon ben Menasia has a different theory. He claims Esther was hoping “God would take notice and perform a miracle.” What does this cryptic statement mean? What exactly is it about Haman’s presence at the party that would inspire God to act? (cf. Rashi ad loc.)

* * * * *

 

As she prepared to enter the king’s chambers, “Esther dressed herself in royalty” (Esther 5:1). The simple meaning refers to her royal garments, but according to the Talmud it alludes to something far deeper: she clothed herself in the “divine spirit” (Ruach HaKodesh) (Megillah 14b). By force of her righteousness, the prophetess Esther brought down the Divine Presence and the Shechina rested upon her. (See Yoma 9b [bottom] where Ruach HaKodesh is equated with the presence of the Shechina.)

Esther then proceeded to walk towards the Throne Room, passing first through a hall filled with idols. The Divine Presence departed and Esther cried out, “My God! My God! Why have you left me?” (Megillah 15b).

Esther’s question doesn’t sound very intelligent. Was Esther unaware that the Shechina cannot tolerate idols? Moshe wouldn’t even pray in the presence of idols! (cf. Rashi to Shemos 9:29). Are we to believe that Esther was really surprised that the Shechina left? Assuming she knew this would happen, why did she invite the Shechina in the first place?

* * * * *

The Talmud tells us that the decree to annihilate the Jews was of divine origin, in response to the national sin of bowing before the statues of Nebuchadnezzar. But if the Jews were indeed guilty of idolatry, why then was the decree revoked? “[Since] their [worship of the statue] was only superficial (i.e., they didn’t put their faith in the idol, they were just frightened to disobey the law of the land, Rashi ad. loc.), the divine decree against them was also only superficial” (Megillah 12a). Their sin was only an act to save their necks and the judgment could be repealed. But they would need a good Jewish lawyer.

The tradition is well-known. Whenever the Megillah speaks of “the king” it is a reference to God. This character change is much more than a mere Midrashic curiosity. It creates nothing less than an alternate narrative, one that is typically missed as we follow the plain meaning of the text. But sometimes this unseen subtext breaks through to the surface with startling results.

Why did Esther invite Haman to the party? I believe she was orchestrating a secret message for God.

“Look what we have here,” Esther says to God at the party.

“Here we have a king and a queen. And the queen is fooling around with another man. Or, at least, it appears as if she is. She isn’t really being unfaithful. It is only an act.”

Esther is staging a reenactment of the current crisis facing the Jews! The king is God, Esther is the Jewish nation, and Haman is the idol. Just as the idolatry of the Jews was without substance, so is Esther’s “affair” with Haman. [Adultery is analogous to idolatry (cf. Yermiyah 3:1). We could also add that Haman considered himself a god (Megillah 19a) and wore an idol on his heart (Esther Rabba 7:5).]

This is Esther’s little Purim play.

“Now,” continues Esther, “Let us see what Achashveirosh will do.”

At first, Achashveirosh leaves the room, abandoning Esther. This is not what she was hoping for. But then Achashveirosh returns… and kills Haman!

While it is true that paganism cannot coexist with worship of the true God – “the bed isn’t big enough for two rivals!” (Yeshaya 28:20; cf. Yoma 9b) – it does not follow that paganism must result in either God's departure (cf. Shemos 33:3; Rashi ad loc.) or the annihilation of the Jews (cf. Shemos 32:10). There is a third option. This was Esther’s argument before the Heavenly Court:

“I fooled around with Haman, but Achashveirosh did not kill me; he killed Haman. Maybe the Jews fooled around with other gods, but You don’t have to abandon them or destroy them. You can destroy the idols instead!”

This was also Esther intent earlier when she walked through the idol-filled hall. She knew God would leave and she challenged Him with the question of the hour. “My God, My God! Why have you left me? Why give up on the Jews? Are idols the problem? Destroy the idols!”

Her request is not as outrageous as it sounds. There is a historical precedent. In the story of the Exodus, at the tenth plague, God entered the land of Egypt at midnight. And at that very moment every idol in Egypt disintegrated (Shemos 12:12). The Jews of Egypt were pagans, but God didn’t destroy them. He destroyed the idols instead. This is what Esther was asking for.

The Talmud has no less than ten theories on why Esther invited Haman to the party and Eliyahu informs us that they are all correct (Megillah 15b). The whole is now greater than the sum of its parts. Conflate Rabbi Nechemia with Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korcha with Rabbi Shimon ben Menasia and you get Esther’s grand strategy: she wanted make Achashveirosh angry and jealous – and she wanted God to notice Achashveirosh’s response. But in order for this risky plan to work, Esther needed the people to return to the sincere service of Hashem alone. In other words, they had to really pray.

God took notice. He heard the people’s prayers, He accepted Esther’s argument and He performed the very miracle she requested. God saved the Jew and destroyed the idol. Better said, He destroyed idolatry itself. A few short years after Esther made her appeal, in the days of the prophet Nechemia, the Jews were finally fed up with their pagan tendencies and wished to end it once and for all. They prayed and “cried out to Hashem Elokim in a loud voice” (Nechemia 9:4) and “they fasted for three days and three nights” (sic!) (Yoma 69b). They learned it from Esther: faith can only be restored through prayers and fasting. God acquiesced and delivered the drive for paganism into their hands (ibid.).

No longer would the Jew struggle with that terrible force for evil. Thus were the Jews saved from sin and destruction, and thus did idolatry disappear from the annals of Jewish history.

 

* * * * *

 

Immediately after the hanging of Haman, “the King Achashveirosh gives Haman’s house to Esther the Queen” (8:1). Esther then puts Mordechai in charge of it (8:2).

Not only does the killing of Haman foreshadow the destruction of the pagan drive in the days of Nechemia, it also foreshadows the complete destruction of the Yetzer HaRa at the End of Days. We will then revert to the pure state of Adam and Eve before the sin (cf. Ramban to Devarim 30:6).

The Talmud tells us that “in the future, the officers of Judah will teach Torah publically in the theaters and circuses of Edom” (Megillah 6a). This is exactly what we find in the Megillah: the house of Haman (who descends from Edom) is taken over by none other than Mordachai (who descends from Yehuda). Mordachai, a member of both the Sanhedrin and the Great Assembly, undoubtedly taught Torah there.

May the day be soon when evil is vanquished and we can say shiurim in the Chinese Theatre.

ונהפוך הוא!

Purim Afterthoughts: No Speak the Language

After killing his wife Vashti, Achashveirosh justifies his violence with a quizzical new decree: “Every man must be the master of his household and speak the language of his nation” (Esther 1:22). In cases when spouses hail from different states of the Empire, husbands may no longer opt to speak their wives’ native tongue. Rather, all women must learn to speak their husband’s language.

Strange law. As far as P’shat is concerned, it seems to support the opinion that Achaveirosh was a fool (cf. Talmud, Megillah 12a). But, as in all things Megillah, there is more here than meets the eye.

The first thing we need to understand about the holiday of Purim is that it is a celebration of the power of prayer.

The prophets in conjunction with the court legislated and commanded the annual reading of the Megillah in order to recall God’s qualities, the salvations that He performed for us, and the fact that He was nearby when we called out [to Him]. This leads us to bless Him and sing His praises and makes known to future generations that the Torah’s promise is true: “Which other nation has a god that is close to it like Hashem our God [is close] to all who call out to Him!” (Devarim 4:7).

Rambam, postscript to Minyan HaMitzvos

The Rambam is referring here to the three-day fast which Esther declared for the Jews of Shushan (cf. Esther 4:16). Those three days of prayer saved the Jews and, according to the Rambam, it is the efficacy of those prayers that we are commemorating and celebrating on this holiday. This understanding of Purim’s central message is alluded to long before the prayers begin, in the Megillah’s introduction of Mordechai: “There was a Jew in the capital city of Shushan. His name was Mordachai, son of Yair, son of Shimi, son of Kish, a Benjaminite” (Esther 2:5). The Talmud expounds the verse:
 

“Son on Yair” – a son who illuminated the eyes of the Jews with his prayers. “Son of Shimi” – a son whose prayers were heard [by God]. “Son of Kish” – for he knocked on the Gates of Compassion and they were opened for him.

Talmud, Megillah 12b

The role of prayer in the salvation of Purim is easily understood in light of the national sin which doomed the Jews to annihilation. For Haman’s decree was no mere anti-Semitism; it was rooted in a very real verdict made in the Heavenly Court: the Jews of Babylonia were guilty of bowing to the statues of Nebuchadnezzar (Talmud, Megillah 12a). Since it was idol worship that needed to be rectified, prayer – the worship of the One God – was the only viable response.  

This also explains Esther's directive to fast for three days and three nights. According to the Rambam, the offering of animal sacrifices on the Temple's altar functioned to counter and rectify the mistaken belief in other gods (Moreh Nevuchim 3:46; cf. Ramban to Vayikra 1:9). Fasting is nothing less than an offering of our very own flesh and blood (cf. Berachos 17a), so it presumably has the same effect. And prayer serves as a stand-in for sacrifices (cf. Berachos 26b), especially when the Jews are in exile and lack a Temple. It follows that the extraordinary self-sacrifice of fasting for three days straight, coupled with and directed by intense prayer, cleansed the Jewish mind of paganism and reset their hearts with a pure faith in the One God.

Since Purim is about prayer, it wouldn’t be off-topic here to ask a basic question about our Siddur. Originally, every Jew composed his own personal prayers. No text existed and the daily Mitzvah of Tefillah was fulfilled by simply praying for your needs in your own words. That is the way it was until two and half millennia ago when the Great Assembly produced the Siddur and required every Jew to say the same thing three times a day: the one and only “Shmoneh Esrei.”

Why the change? The Rambam has a theory.

When the Jews were exiled in the days of the evil Nebuchadnezzar they began to assimilate in Persia, Greece and other nations. Their children were born in the lands of the gentiles and were linguistically challenged. These [second generation refugees] spoke in a blend of languages and were incapable of expressing themselves in any one language without error, as the verse states, “Their children spoke half Assyrian and didn’t know how to speak Hebrew or the language of any nation” (Nechemia 13:24). As a result, when one of them would pray, he would be limited in his ability to express his needs or to praise God in Hebrew without also including words from other languages. When Ezra and his court recognized this [problem], they rose [to the occasion] and established the ordered brachos of Shmoneh Esrei.

Rambam, Laws of Tefillah 1:4

The above quote gives the impression that prayers must be said in Hebrew. A clear, unadulterated Hebrew. But things are not so simple. It is actually permitted to pray in any language and the Shmoneh Esrei may be read in translation (cf. Shulchan Aruch O.C. 101:4). So why did the men of the Great Assembly choose to compose our prayers in Hebrew and not in the spoken language of the Diaspora?

Some may suggest that Hebrew is the language of the Jews. Having all Jews pray in Hebrew would certainly go a long way to strengthen our national identity and unity in exile. Others would say that the use of Hebrew expressed the great longing of our people to return to the Land of Israel and rebuild. There may be truth to these ideas, but I believe they miss the point.

Hebrew is God’s language. It is the language He used to create the universe and the language He used to speak to His prophets. This is why Hebrew is called the “Holy Tongue” (Ramban to Shemos 30:13). If we must select a language for prayer, Hebrew is the natural choice; we should speak to God in His language. And if we don’t understand it, then we’d better learn it.

The Medrash tells us that whenever the Megillah speaks of “the king” (HaMelech), it refers not only to King Achashveirosh, it refers also to the King of kings, God Himself. This allows us to suggest a Midrashic reading of the King’s strange decree at the beginning of the Megillah.

This Megillah is going to be a story about prayer, and God, always setting up the cure before the strike, is giving us some helpful advice right at the outset. When a wife (i.e., the Jews) wishes to speak to her husband (i.e., God), it is recommended that she speak in His language, not hers.

The Jews took the hint and composed the Shmoneh Esrei in Hebrew, to great effect. The Jews prayed and God responded. And they lived happily ever after.

Continue with part-two here.

Shoshanas Yaakov

We all sing it, but what does it really mean? Click here for a line-by-line analysis of the everyone's favorite Purim song: Shoshanas Yaakov. Recorded live at Gerber & Co.

Aside from the standard tune for Shoshanas Yaakov, a lively and comedic operatic version was composed in 1920 by Rabbi Shaul Yedidya Elazar Taub, the Modzitzer Rebbe. You can hear it here, recorded in the sweetest of voices by Ben Tzion Shenker. 

For more audio and essays on Purim, click on the Purim label below. 

Purim is Always Tomorrow (recorded live at Gerber & Co.)

Click here to download a shiur about Megillas Esther & Amalek entitled "Purim is Tomorrow" and here for a shiur about drinking on Purim entitled "Drowning Amalek in a Bottle: Ad D'lo Yada and the Sobering Problem of Evil." Both shiurim were delivered at Gerber & Co in Century City, Los Angeles. (The first last year and the second this year.)

Special thanks to Selwyn Gerber for being the host par excellence and all the good Jews who attended.

Both shiurim are based on my blog posts about Purim; those posts and more on Purim can be found by clicking the "Purim" label below.

Happy Purim!

Don't drink & daven!

On the Trail of Blessings: Spoiling the Spoils of Esther's War

[Although this is technically the ninth installment of a series on the development of the Birchas HaAvos, it stands on its own as a piece about Megillas Esther. But don't let me stop you if you wish to begin the Trail from the beginning.]

At the end of Megillas Esther, the Jews behave strangely.

After Esther has Haman killed, she convinces Achashveirosh to issue a new decree, allowing the Jews to kill their enemies. Nothing strange about that. [Simply revoking the original decree wasn't an option, for "something written in the name of the king and sealed with the king's signet ring cannot be revoked" (8:8).] In this new decree, the Jews are given license to annihilate their enemies and take spoils (8:11). The Jews take full advantage of their license to kill, but for some reason they take no spoils (9:10). Now, that's strange! If you're going through the trouble of killing your enemies, why not take their money?

In his commentary to Parshas Beshalach (Shemos 17:16), Rabbeinu Bechaye (d. 1340) explains this in line with the Targum which states that all those killed were Amalekites. It is forbidden to take pleasure in the spoils of Amalek, writes Rabbeinu Bechaye, and Mordechai remembered well King Saul's terrible mistake of taking spoils after his battle with Amalek centuries earlier. This, says R. Bechaye, is why the Jews didn't take the money.

There are three problems with this approach. Firstly, if their enemies were indeed Amalekites and Jews truly wished to observe the mitzvah of annihilating them, that would require the destruction of the spoils, not just abstaining from taking them, as the Torah states, "erase the memory of Amalek" (Devarim 25:19; cf. Rashi ad loc.). Secondly, according to R. Bechaye, how could Esther take Haman's house (Esther 8:1)? And thirdly, even if this explains why the Jews didn't take spoils, it makes it far more difficult to understand why Mordechai and Esther had the right to take spoils included in the orginal royal decree. (For an altogether different approach which lacks these problems, see R. Dovid Tavil, Drashos Beis Dovid 11.)

I believe the answer to Rabbeinu Bechaye's question can be found in Parshas Bo. When the Jews were just about to leave Egypt, Hashem made the following request of Moshe: "Please (נא) speak in the ears of the nation: they should borrow - each man from his [Egyptian] friend and each woman from her [Egyptian] friend - silver vessels and gold vessels" (Shemos 11:2). Although it is certainly a Jewish value to be polite, nonetheless, it is unusual for God to say "please." The Talmud explains. "The academy of Rabbi Yannai said, the word "נא" always connotes a request. Hashem said to Moshe, go say to the Jews, please borrow silver and gold vessels from the Egyptians so that Tzaddik [Avraham] won't complain [and say to Me]: "They shall enslave them and afflict them" (Bereishis 15:13) You fulfilled for them, but "afterwards they shall go out with great wealth" (ad loc.) You did not fulfill for them?!" (Berachos 9b).

No one demonstrated better than our father Avraham how a Jew can simultaneously be fabulously wealthy and lead the battle against paganism. Avraham understood the blessing of wealth to be integral to the mission of the Jew and he did not want to see the nation sidestep their destiny. So when they left Egypt, Hashem begged the Jews to take the money so that Avraham wouldn't complain.

The problem here is obvious. Since when do Jews need convincing to take money? Moreover, if Hashem promised that the Jews would leave Eygpt with wealth, then it should be the divine promise that drives this request, not the fear of Avraham's complaint!

Strange as it sounds, it seems that Moshe (and, presumably, the Jews) didn't want the gold of Egypt. Even Hashem's promise did not suffice, for a promise of wealth can always be pardoned by the recipient. It was only Hashem's "please," driven by "fear" of Avraham's complaint, that convinced Moshe to pass on the message.

Why doesn't Moshe want the gold? Well, we know what Moshe thinks: "Master of the World, it's because of the gold and silver that you gave the Jews until they said 'enough!' - that's what caused them to build a Golden Calf!" (Berachos 32a). As we have seen before, money is a leading cause of paganism. This is why Hashem had to beg Moshe to take the money. [The fact that this teaching was also taught by the academy of Rabbi Yannai, and its significance in understanding the reason why Hashem had to say "נא" was pointed out by R. Reuven Margolias (נצוצי אור, ברכות).]

The story of Megillas Esther occurs at the end of Galus Bavel, just a few years before the Second Temple is built. Just like at the Exodus, the anti-Semites are vanquished and the Jews are given the opportunity to take the wealth of their oppressors with them as they return to Israel. In the spirit of Hashem's promise to Avraham, "afterwards they shall go out with great wealth," Mordechai and Esther have the right to take spoils written into Achashveirosh's new decree. But the Jews don't take any spoils - history has taught them a thing or two.

The Jews know that the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash and Haman's decree were both divine reactions to the sin of idolatry. They did not want to fall into that again. Last time, they acquiesced to Hashem's request. They took the Egyptian gold and silver and it led to the sin of the Golden Calf. This time they were more than happy to pardon Hashem's generous blessings.

The Jews return to Israel impoverished, barely able to cover the costs of constructing the Second Temple. The even had to settle with a wooden Menorah! But idolatry qua idolatry was not an issue in the Second Temple era. (The allure of Hellenism was more social than theological.) Unlike the First Temple, the second was destroyed not for idolatry but for baseless hatred - and with its unique set of mitzvos, Purim fixes that as well.

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!

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 tribe; it is 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 fifteenth, 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, 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 didn't understand the question. Why should God's Name be in the Megillah? God is the one telling us the story!

With Reb 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.

Click here for part-two

Late Night with Amalek

This week, in addition to parshat Tetzaveh we also read the “parsha” of Amalek. It may just be a few verses, but this additional reading is actually the most important Torah reading of the year. Unlike the weekly reading of the parsha, reminding ourselves what Amalek did is a fulfillment of a Biblical mitzvah.

Remember what Amalek did to you on the road when you left Egypt. They encountered you on the road and cut down those lagging to your rear; you were tired and exhausted. They did not fear G-d.

Shemot 25:17-18

Remembering the unprovoked violence of the Amalekite tribe is not the only mitzvah here. There is another mitzvah, a mitzvah for the future. Here is the final verse:

When G-d gives you peace from all the enemies around you in the land that G-d your Lord is giving you to occupy as a heritage, you must obliterate the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. You must not forget.

This second mitzvah to destroy Amalek is, unfortunately, non-operational. Ever since the Assyrian Empire took up the policy of deporting populations, societies have intermarried and it is impossible to identify a purebred Amalekite. However, the Talmud seems to say that it is still possible to perform this mitzvah. Rav rules that the parsha of Amalek must be read on the Shabbat before Purim so that we do the remembering before we do the obliterating (Talmud, Megillah 30a). In other words, we first remember what Amalek did on Shabbat Zachor and then we destroy Amalek on Purim. The Halacha is in agreement with Rav.

Destroy Amalek on Purim? How do we do that? Presumably, the Talmud is not simply referring to the custom to make noise when Haman’s name is mentioned!

In order to understand the Talmud’s meaning, we need to understand that “Amalek” is more than just another anti-Semitic tribe. Amalek is the root of evil in the universe. The mitzvot to remember and ultimately destroy Amalek are mitzvot to remember that evil exists and to battle it. This is the national Jewish mission of “Tikkun Olam,” fixing the world. But fixing the world starts at home.

Victory against the Amalek “out there” is not currently possible. We will only raise the “Mission Accomplished” banner when Mashiach arrives. But every person has a little “Amalek” within and that is what we must destroy on Purim. How does Purim function to destroy the element of evil in man? To answer that question, we must first get a sharper definition of the evil that is Amalek.

What did Amalek do? They attacked the Jews after the Exodus. Although the Amalekites had no reason to fear the Jews and the attack was certainly unprovoked, it would be a mistake to dismiss it as a random act of violence. Amalek had a motive. They wished to shatter the aura of the brand new Chosen Nation.

Nothing is sacred in the world of Amalek. An Amalekite is a rationalist and an atheist, a cynical, late night stand-up comic. He is never impressed and he is never awed. On the contrary, Amalek sees it as their job to tear down anything and anyone that others might respect. After the Exodus, with its manifest miracles and the destruction of the Egyptian Empire, the world trembled. G-d and the Jews were revered and untouchable. So Amalek set out to prove they were not impressed. They did not fear G-d – and nobody else had to either.

The nations were afraid to fight you [until] this one started up and paved the way for others. The analogy is to a boiling pool [that is too hot] for anyone to enter. Some moron shows up and cannonballs into it. Even though he gets burned, he cools it off for everyone else.

Rashi ad loc.

This is the evil of Amalek – G-d and the Jews were hot and Amalek cooled them off. How does Amalek do it? He’s got an explanation for everything. Volcanic activity turned the Nile red, an eclipse turned the sky dark and low tide split the sea. There’s nothing to be afraid of, says Amalek. There is no G-d.

What do we do on Purim? We read Megillat Esther. There are no miracles in this story. G-d’s name isn’t even mentioned once. But we read the Megillah and we recognize the Hand of G-d pulling all the strings. Amalek is the voice that denies G-d when He is manifest; Purim is the voice that recognizes G-d when He is invisible. It is as Rav said: On Purim we destroy Amalek.

Chanukah vs. Purim

Chanukah and Purim are both highly popular and great fun, but comparing them gives us pause. As the two post-biblical holidays, they both commemorate periods when the Jews lacked independence, faced persecution and emerged victorious (i.e. survived). But yet, the two holidays are celebrated very differently. Latke-Hamentashen debates are entertaining, but the Chanukah-Purim contrast demands a serious response.

Chanukah is celebrated with the lighting of a Menorah. This is a bit surprising. Menorah lighting is a biblical mitzvah reserved for the Jerusalem Temple; considered a special privilege even among the Kohanim of old, we would have never expected to see every Jew doing it at home. Another mitzvah of Chanukah is the singing of Hallel. Each morning of the eight days, Hallel, an exuberant selection of chapters from King David’s Psalms, is added to the regular morning prayers. The extraordinary mitzvot of Chanukah express the heightened sanctity and spirituality of these special days.

Purim is different. On Purim, there is no Hallel and there is no candle lighting; instead, we have a party. Jews celebrate Purim with a proper feast, including plenty of fine wine. No such celebration occurs on Chanukah. Why the difference?

There is a good answer to this question, an answer that makes perfect sense. In the Purim story, the Jews were threatened with annihilation. The Persian Empire had embraced the final solution and the Jews were doomed. When the Jews are saved from this threat, they enact a holiday that celebrates their survival. This holiday appropriately involves rejoicing through the physical pleasures – after all, it was our bodies that were saved. Food, drink and festivities are the order of the day.

The situation in the days of the Chanukah story was altogether different. The Hellenists weren’t out to kill Jews; they just forbade the practice of Judaism. A Jew who abandoned his or her faith was welcomed as a full-fledged citizen of Hellenist society. As long as we went along with their agenda, our bodies were not in danger – but our soul was. So when the Maccabees defeated the enemy, the holiday instituted was a holiday that involved not the body, but the soul. The mitzvot of Chanukah are therefore entirely spiritual in nature. (cf. Levush 670:2)

Our comparison of these two holidays is incomplete. One more fundamental difference must be addressed.

How did the Jews react to these two persecutions? In the Purim story, the Megillah is clear. Esther told the Jews to fast for three days (Esther 4:16). Fasting, prayer and repentance are the national response and this is commemorated with the Fast of Esther the day before Purim. What about Chanukah? In the Chanukah story, the response was slightly different. Instead of a prayer rally, the Jews launch an insurgency. Against all odds, a small group of dedicated Jews, the Maccabees, takes up arms to resist the religious persecution of the Greek Hellenists.

How strange! When confronted with physical annihilation, the Jews pray and when confronted with religious persecution, they fight? Isn’t that kind of backward? Shouldn’t a physical threat be matched with force and a spiritual one with fasting and prayer?

Let’s try to put ourselves in their shoes. In the Purim story, the Jews are facing annihilation. As terrifying as that might be, unexpected it is not. Several such situations are recorded in the Torah and Moshe prophesized that the Jews would face such threats again. The Jew knows what this means – G-d’s divine justice is reckoning sins. The Jews fast, pray and repent and G-d overturns the decree. It’s standard operating procedure.

The Chanukah story, however, is inexplicable. Religious persecution? The Jews have never experienced that before; they’ve never even heard of it. If G-d was angry, He would destroy the Temple, exile them from their land and maybe threaten them with destruction. But none of that was happening. Instead, the Jerusalem Temple is transformed into a pagan house of worship and the observance of mitzvot is forbidden. How can such a situation be explained from a perspective of faith?

For a while, the Jews did not know how to respond. The Maccabees hid out in the Judean hills and caves of Modi’in, mulling over the state of affairs and pondering their options (cf. Leket Sichot Mussar vol. II, R. Yitzchok I. Sher, pgs. 146-147). Why is this happening? What does G-d want from us? Finally, after much deliberation, they come to a conclusion: This persecution is not about sin. On the contrary, it is about mitzvot.

If G-d has not destroyed the Temple but just taken away our religious freedom and our ability to serve Him, it can only mean one thing: He was not satisfied with the quality of our service. Our mitzvot must have lacked the requisite passion and joy and now G-d wants to see how much we really care. Will we stand up for the privilege to do mitzvot? Or does it not matter to us that much? (cf. Bach 670:4)

The Maccabees proved the depth of their commitment and G-d showed them miracles in return. They defeated vastly superior forces and returned to restore and rededicate the Temple in Jerusalem. The Shechinah once again dwelled in the Sanctuary. And the miracle of the Menorah showed one and all that when mitzvot are done right, G-d’s presence will be manifest in our world.

Today, our Chanukah celebrations are appropriately mitzvah-centric. We too must demonstrate our love for mitzvot and cherish the privilege of lighting a Menorah and singing Hallel. In the merit of these mitzvot, the eternal light of the Shechinah can be brought into every Jewish home.