Purim is Personal
by
Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
It was at that last Purim hour, during
the moments when day slowly recedes to night and the sky begins to darken.
Inside the crowded room, a rebbi and talmidim surrounded a table,
as songs, Torah and quips joined into a burst of sound, the holy noise of Purim
rising heavenward.
At one end of the long table, its surface
covered with a wine-stained cloth and festively-arranged bottles, a talmid
raised a question. He quoted the well-known Gemara, referred to
extensively in halachic discussion of the obligations of the Purim
seudah, which recounts how Rabbah rose and slaughtered Rav Zeira (Megillah
7b).
Rav Zeira had accepted Rabbah’s invitation to
join him for the seudas Purim. Rabbah fulfilled the dictum of Chazal to
drink, and he became inebriated to the point that he actually slaughtered his
guest. When he realized what transpired, he begged for Divine mercy and Rav
Zeira was revived.
Rishonim and Acharonim
utilize p’shat, remez, drush and sod to explain the Gemara.
But the talmid had a basic question. Once Rav Zeira’s soul had left him,
what was Rabbah thinking when he rose to daven? Can a person request techiyas
hameisim? Can one ask that the order of creation be reversed?
The rebbi smiled, enjoying the question,
and the talmidei chachomim present offered various interpretations. Then
the rebbi spoke just one sentence. “It was Purim,” he said, “and
in the season of Purim, it isn’t a kasha. One perceives, on the
deepest level, that there is no teva and neis. It’s all one. Ein
od milvado.”
On Purim we can ask for anything,
because after reading the Megillah, it becomes clear once again that
there is but one Hand, and nothing else, that bestows and controls life.
The men around the table sang another song,
because at that moment, it was so obvious, almost tangible, that it’s all Him.
How can one not rejoice?
Purim is
different than any other yom tov. Even when all the moadim will
be but happy memories, Purim will have its place on the calendar, a
joyous festival in the era of ultimate joy. What it is about Purim that
generates so much eternal joy and elation?
Even in the choshech and hester
of today, when hearts are numb and emotion comes hard, we can still sense it.
There is a mitzvah to be happy on every yom tov, yet despite our
best efforts, we don’t always manage to attain the level of happiness that we
do on Purim. On Purim, we all feel it.
Why? Because Purim is personal.
Like a beacon of light on a dark, stormy night,
it shines into our world. Every one of us is struggling. We have days when the
rushing waves of tzaros threaten to engulf us. We encounter people and
situations we find intolerable. We all sometimes feel lost and abandoned. We
suffer from a lack of proper leadership, agonizing under new laws and
directions the country faces. So many people we know are sick and in need of a refuah,
or suffering in other ways and eagerly awaiting a yeshuah.
Purim is an
unfurled banner that reads, “Revach vehatzolah ya’amod laYehudim.” Help
can come. Help will come. Don’t despair. Purim teaches us all
that transpires to us in this world is part of Hashem’s plan. It will all turn
out for the good if we are patient and follow Hashem’s word. We sing
various tunes to the eternal words of “venahafoch hu,” reminding us that
Hashem can quickly bring about a stunning reversal of any situation. At no time
should we give up hope of recovery, no matter how bad the prognosis.
The Baal Shem Tov once traveled through
a tiny, forlorn town consisting of a few farmhouses and fields. The locals were
suffering from a severe drought. The lack of rainwater threatened the crops and
their livelihood was in jeopardy.
The Baal Shem Tov went into their shul
and saw how the entire town - men, women and children - was present, listening
respectfully to the words of a visiting maggid. The preacher castigated
the people for their misdeeds, telling them that their offensive behavior was
causing Heaven to withhold blessing.
When the maggid finished, the Baal
Shem Tov rose to speak. “What do you want from these Jews?” he asked the maggid.
“They work long, hard hours, toiling under a blazing sun all day. When they
have a few minutes of peace, they hurry to the shul to daven and
learn a bit. What type of message are you giving them?”
“Tayere Yidden,” the Baal Shem Tov
said, turning to the crowd of farmers, “this is what you must know. We have a
powerful Borei, a Creator with limitless abilities, and He can do
anything and everything. He loves us and wants to shower us with His blessings.
So Yidden, come, let us dance.”
The Baal Shem Tov led the simple
townspeople in a joyous rikkud. A circle of Jews began singing their
thanks and praise to the Master of the Universe.
They exited the shul and encountered a
drenching downpour. The rain turned the fields into mud. The happy townspeople
danced their way home.
This is the lesson of Purim. Even as we
are bound by the rules of teva, a neis is still possible. Teshuvah,
tefillah and tzedakah have the power to be maavir any gezeirah.
When Esther went into Achashveirosh, she didn’t ask what her chances of success
were. When Mordechai commanded her to appeal the case of the Jewish people to
the king, they didn’t consider what their chances of victory were. They davened,
fasted and did what was right. Armed with emunah and tefillah,
their efforts in teva succeeded.
Throughout the year, we are confronted by
various types of people and the vast spectrum of human behavior, from righteous
and noble to incorrigibly evil and the many shades in between.
We live in a world where up is down and down is
up. We have to resist being blown about and led astray, but no matter what
comes over us and the world, we must maintain our equilibrium and faith.
When good things happen to bad people and bad
things happen to good people, the Megillah reminds us that appearances
are deceptive. The “wheel of fortune” is manipulated by Hashem for His own
purposes. The Megillah reminds us all that happens is part of a Divine
plan, which we can’t expect to understand until the entire story has unfolded.
An evil force may appear to be advancing, but
it is only in order for Hashgochah to set up that power for a more
drastic descent to defeat. Evil may be on the ascent, but it is merely a
passing phenomenon and is destined to fail. Goodness and virtue may appear
frail and unimposing, but those who follow Hashem’s path will ultimately
triumph.
In every generation, there are evil people who
plot our destruction, but we are still here, thriving and prospering, and we
will do so with Hashem’s help until the coming of Moshiach.
That message resonates for all time, wherever
Jews find themselves. As we masquerade about exchanging mishloach manos
with friends, and distributing Purim gelt to the less fortunate,
we tap into the kedushah and message of the holy day.
That message never loses its timeliness.
Those blessed with discerning ears hear the
enduring relevance in the holy Megillah. One year, an expert baal
kriah, Reb Avrohom Moshe Kirshenbaum, was brought to lain the
Megillah for the Brisker Rov. After the kriah, the rov was in
a particularly joyous mood and he commented, “Ess iz nisht kein shaylah tzu
a besser’n tzu a shvacher’n, ess iz an andere mashma’us ingantzen.”
A well-read Megillas Esther tells the
story better. The quality of the kriah gives new significance to the
message. Like a symphony, the discriminating listener appreciates it on a
different level. To great men, Megillas Esther is an experience.
Every year, we gain new appreciation of what
took place during those critical times and its relevance to us today. We also
gain a new perspective. Was Haman consumed by hatred or was it jealousy that
drove him mad? Was he a megalomaniac or was he just a common anti-Semite?
Perhaps he was all of the above.
The lesson for us is that we should avoid all
these forms of evil. Humility may have saved Haman, as would have his high
status as a trusted confidant of King Achashveirosh had he been satisfied with
that prestige. Had he been less greedy for power, he might not have suffered a
devastating downfall and would not have ended up on the gallows.
Had he not been so mad for power, he could have
continued climbing until he reached the pinnacle. He would have remained there,
at the height of power, instead of dangling from the end of a rope.
As we read the story, we think of people we
know who engage in self-destructive behavior and thank Hashem that we are not
like them. We internalize the tale and take its message to heart. We feel
grateful for the clarity that enables us to be happy with our lot.
Everyone has times when they fail. To err is
human. The test is how we recover from those situations and continue on after
experiencing a setback.
Do we become withdrawn and despondent or do we
maintain our faith in Hashem and in ourselves and force ourselves to carry on
with dignity and grace?
When things don’t go our way, do we forsake
hope or do we have bitachon that the next day will bring better news and
happier developments?
Sometimes, it takes years for the yeshuah
to arrive, but salvation comes only to those who maintain their faith and
optimism. Those who give up lose.
Rav Yitzchok Hutner once faced his talmidim
after the sun had set on Purim, in the happy exhaustion of teshuvah
mitoch simcha, and cried out, “Purim hut nisht kein Havdolah,
we don’t recite Havdolah as we do after other festivals, because there
is no ‘after Purim.’ Purim is meant to stay with us.”
Many times, we wish we had the guts to do what
is right, but we are worried about the repercussions and concerned about what
people will say and write about us. Then we read the Megillah and study
what Mordechai Hatzaddik did and realize that his actions, though unpopular, in
fact led to the rescue of the Jewish people.
This is not to be understood as giving blanket
permission for headstrong, irresponsible behavior, but rather to convey the
truth that when one acts according to halachah, he need not fear
negative consequences.
Mordechai’s words, “Umi yodeia im le’eis
kazos higaat lamalchus,” should ring in the ears of every Jew who is about
to make a fateful decision. As one weighs the risks of taking the seemingly
more ambitious or the nobler route, Mordechai’s profound words encourage him to
do what is proper and resist the temptation to act expediently instead of doing
what is right.
Mordechai’s words are an eternal charge
inspiring us not to be daunted by the obstacles, but to pour our energies into
productive projects that benefit themselves and/or our people.
There is a multi-million dollar industry in
this country that revolves around motivation. People pay top dollar to hear
speeches or purchase books they hope will motivate and encourage them. Most
people sense they possess more potential than they utilize and are desperate to
be inspired and empowered.
Megillas Esther is a
motivator, with the ability to empower every Jew. Other nissim were lemaalah
min hateva, while Purim was within teva. That inspires us,
because when we see events that are painful and frightening, we are reminded
through Purim that miracles happen via the course of natural events. We
don’t have to await supernatural occurrences to spare us and to save us from
that which frightens us. Rather, we should believe that through the natural
course of human events, Hashem can save us.
Umi yodeia…
Esther was afraid that she was doing the wrong
thing at the wrong time. Mordechai was prompting her to appeal to Achashveirosh
eleven months ahead of the date Haman had chosen to annihilate the Jewish
people. She preferred to have stalled, in the hope that between Nissan
and the next Adar there would be a more opportune time for her to appeal
on behalf of her brethren. Why did it have to be now?
The temptation is always great to postpone
doing what we know we must do. Mordechai’s message to us is not to wait and not
to postpone and not to delay doing what must be done.
Esther is repeatedly tested throughout the
period in which the story takes place. Each time, it appears that there is no
way she can outmaneuver the evil facing her. She emerges as the heroine of the
story because she is galvanized by her hopes rather than her fears. She relies
upon the sage counsel of her uncle, the Rosh Sanhedrin. With Mordechai’s
support, she refuses to allow fear to paralyze her.
Faced with situations from which we think there
is no way we can extricate ourselves without getting hurt, we should remember
Queen Esther and gain strength from the knowledge that by doing the right
thing, she saved her people from certain destruction. By following Mordechai’s
instructions, she became immortalized in the consciousness of the Jewish people
as a righteous and strong woman who put the fate of her people ahead of her
personal safety and happiness.
The Jews of Shushan, too, taught us a message
that carries down through the ages. They had given up all hope. They felt
doomed. The lot was drawn and their fate was sealed. But Mordechai and Esther
taught them the power of prayer and fasting. They rose to the challenge. Thanks
to the leadership of Mordechai and Esther, Hashem heard their tefillos
and accepted their teshuvah. A day marked for sadness and death was
transformed into a day of celebration and deliverance.
On Purim, we are reminded not to be
depressed or downcast. Despondency is not the Jewish way.
Rav Yaakov Galinsky once commented that in
Novardok, Purim was a more uplifting day than Yom Kippur. Yom
Kippur, he said, was all about the past - teshuvah, charotah
and azivas hacheit. Purim, on the other hand, was all about a
bright future and how glorious things might yet be.
We all have our problems. Everyone has a pekel.
On Purim, we are reminded that just as our ancestors were delivered from
despair, so too we can be spared of our burdens.
The sun will shine again. Good will triumph
over evil.
It’s Purim. Dance, smile and be happy.
Look at the positive. Be optimistic.
Rav Shlomo Bloch wrote a diary of life in the
Talmud Torah of Kelm. He describes Purim in the town whose name is
synonymous, until this very day, with single-minded avodah. In Kelm, the
talmidim took the mandate to drink alcohol on Purim very
seriously, he writes, and the entire community seemed to be “a tefach higher”
than usual, suspended above the ground in joy and spiritual uplift. But the
moment the sky darkened over Kelm, and night fell the talmidim returned
to their regular, focused selves and order ruled once again.
To a student of psychology, it might seem
extraordinary. To one who appreciates the profound strength of Kelmer
talmidim, it’s simple. Purim for them was not an escape from
reality. For them, and for us as well, it is an injection of reality which
empowers the Jewish people with the clarity and awareness to continue on. And
it never ends, for there is no Havdolah.
We seize the gift of Purim and
incorporate it into our daily avodah, newly charged.
Permit the spirit of Purim to overtake
you. There is a splendid future for each of us. About Haman it says, “Vayeitzei
bayom hahu sameiach vetov lev.” On that day, he was glad. The joy of
reshoim is temporal and fleeting. We are people of tomorrow. The commandment to
wage war on Amaleik is given for “machor,” tomorrow. We live with an
awareness of and anticipation for a bright, brilliant tomorrow.
Ah freilichen Purim and ah freilichen tomid,
inspired by the message of Purim. Velo yeivoshu lanetzach kol
hachosim bo.
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