The Purim Paradox

Next week we will celebrate Purim on Saturday night and Sunday. We set the stage for Purim in the time that has passed since the coming of the new month of Adar. Our tradition tells us that when the month of Adar arrives we are to increase the joy that we feel. This is an anticipatory kind of happiness- looking forward to celebrating should put us in a good mood, make our hearts more receptive to feeling joy, and inspire us to embrace the holiday. All this talk of joy makes me wonder what our sages had in mind- can we really be joyous just because a holiday comes? Can we choose to be “happy” with just the turn of the calendar?

I think most of us feel that happiness is not something that we can just turn on or off at will. There are times that we feel so sad that we can’t imagine ever smiling again. There are also times that we feel so happy that we forget that we ever felt sad! Most of our lives are spent somewhere in between those two extremes, living a mixture of happy and sad. The kind of good news/bad news the average day brings! So what did our Sages have in mind? Did they really think we could be “happy” at the drop of a hat? For some of us it might seem a paradox that we are being command to be happy. Both joy and sadness are feelings that creep into our hearts unexpectedly- we hardly ever think of them as the result of a conscience decision. I think all of us would choose to be happy if only it were that simple!

So what is all this talk of well-intentioned happiness over the month of Adar and the anticipation of Purim? Perhaps it’s the Jewish take on the old “is the glass half empty or half full” thing. When you really think about Purim seriously could become sad and, in fact, discouraged. Purim was the first act in a play that has run the entirety of Jewish existence. Purim: Haman hated us because we were different. He called us “outsiders.” He said we should not be included in society because of our beliefs. His words were repeated over and over by generations of those who hated us for no other reason than our very existence. For that we have suffered over and over. Good reason to be sad. Good reason to be saddened by a pain that has plagued our people in every time and place.

But to that temptation our Sages said “No!” It is not sadness that we feel but joy! The glass is “half full.” Every would-be Haman has failed. We are here to tell the story and mock (and erase) his memory. We choose to celebrate the continuity of Jewish life and to make light of every threat that we have faced. God said this to Abraham: Those who bless you shall be blessed, those who curse you shall be cursed.” Our Sages “command” us to find the joy in Purim because it is a day to celebrate rather than mourn.

Some of us choose to find the joys of being Jewish but some of us act like it is a curse. Purim is a good time to choose the joy of being Jewish. Despite all that we have faced we are the ones who are still around- telling and retelling the story each year and being happy just to be able to do it.

 

Looking Forward to Purim

On March 7^th Jewish communities will gather to begin the festival of Purim. The distinctive mitzvah of Purim is to read (or hear) the Megillah, The Book of Esther. It is the only holiday on which the act of hearing the story fulfills the requirement of observing the holiday. (Yes, I know we read the Hagadah at Pesach but that reading includes the eating of symbolic foods as well as the reading.) Why is it enough to just “read” the story of Purim? Is seems like a very easy and passive action for a holiday that celebrates such a joyous occasion! Obviously, this is more than a simple “reading.”

Reading the Megillah transports us in time a place- we are taken to ancient Iraq at a time in which the fate of a great Jewish community was threatened by an enemy of great power. Haman held the fate of the community in his hands (at least he thought so.) His hatred for Mordechai became a hatred for all Jews, that hatred created a plan to kill all Jews within the vast kingdom of Ahasuerus. The story of Haman is one that has been repeated many times in our history. While that is an important lesson about the history of our people it is one that hardly needs an annual repetition. Modern Jewish history has witnessed a hatred for our people that far overshadows the plan of Haman.

I want to suggest that there is another lesson within the pages of the Megillah that do deserve an annual reminder because it is one that we often forget. As we relearn the story of Purim let us be less concerned with the villains and more concerned with the heroes. Let’s make the story of Purim not a retelling of Haman’s threat but the retelling of the ways in which Esther and Mordechai brought that threat to nothing. Purim is the story of “regular” people. Esther, a young woman and Mordechai, a mature and loving uncle to Esther. Neither of them would have been candidates for being “superheroes” but they were!

We often think that history is made by kings and armies. Purim reminds us that history is more often made by “regular” folks who have to choose what to do in the worst of situations. Esther does not think that she can do anything to help her people, Mordechai challenges her by saying that she can if she but tries. The rest is history… the Jews of Shushan are saved not by a mighty army but by the bravery of one young woman.

This is perhaps the greatest reason to re-read the Megillah every year. We already know how the story ends, what is important is for us to be reminded why it ends well for the Jews of Shushan. We live in an age in which there are far too many Haman types in the world. They are getting stronger and bolder every day. The enduring lesson of the Megillah is that any one of us may be the next hero. In every age Judaism had survived because of the everyday heroes who have fought Haman in every corner of the world. The Mitzvah of reading the Megillah reminds us to be ready because, as the Megillah claims “you never know where redemption will be found.”

The Gift of Jewish Memory


This coming Shabbat has a special name. It is known as Shabbat Zechor (the Shabbat of remembering.) The day takes its name from a passage that is read from a second Torah making mention of the commandment to remember the attack of the Amalikites on the Children of Israel. We are commanded to remember this unprovoked attack on our ancestors and to keep the memory alive. Shabbat Zechor is always timed as the Shabbat before Purim. The rabbis said that Haman (of Purim infamy) was a descendant of the Amalikites and so the connection was made between Shabbat Zechor and Purim. It is another example of how the Jewish past is to inform every future generation.

We often, and correctly, speak of the gift of memory as being the gift that has kept Judaism alive. In many ways this is true- without knowledge of the Jewish past there is no orientation for the Jewish future. It would be as if we were dropped off in a wilderness without knowing which way to go. All too often, however, we find that the gift of memory is a bitter pill to swallow. “Memory” has taken on a very negative connotation. At Purim we remember Haman and the word “remember” has, in the modern period, been permanently joined the memory of the Holocaust. While we need to remember the suffering of our people, and honor the memory of those lost, we cannot lose sight of the other aspect of the Jewish memory.

We, as a people, have suffered at the hands of countless enemies. It was a part of our past and is still a sad part of our present. We would be blind to miss the parallels between the threats to our ancestors and the threats that are all around us today. We, better than any other people, know that to forget the past is a tragic mistake. Just as this Shabbat we are commanded to remember the past, I remind you that we are also commanded to look beyond it. Is the glass half empty or half full? Is the history of our people a long litany of suffering or a glorious record of triumph?

On Purim we not only recall the threat to an ancient community but we also celebrate their redemption, their victory. As a student of Jewish history I am sometimes overwhelmed by the many struggles that we have faced just to exist. Luckily, I can counter that by remembering that Jewish history never came to an end. Every threat was overcome, every defeat followed by a victory. To be a Jew who responds to the command “remember” means to remember everything- not just the bad but the good. Our sense of memory must be more than an instrument for mourning. It should be our inspiration to celebrate.

Published in the Florida Jewish Journal 2/28,12