Category: Purim

A man walked into a synagogue on the eve of Yom Kippur, and realized he had a $100 bill in his pocket. Not wanting to carry the money on Yom Kippur, he quickly wrote down the verse, “Thou shalt not steal” on a piece of paper and put the note and money in a cubby of the coat room. When Yom Kippur ended, he returned to the cubby and saw, to his shock, that the $100 bill was gone. In its place, he found another note, this one accompanying a $50 bill — on that note was written, “Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself.”

Like the synagogue cubby, the megillah, or scroll, of Esther is filled with surprising exchanges of written notes and letters. In the opening chapters, the king sends letters across the kingdom to punish Vashti and subsequently all Jews, for not obeying his laws. Later, Mordechai’s life is spared because his act of saving the king was written in the king’s sefer ha-zichronot, book of records. And, as the narrative concludes, Esther and Mordechai send three different letters that save their people and establish Purim as a Jewish holiday. As we read it out loud, the megillah even refers to itself as an iggeret, letter (Esther 9:26). What is the reason for placing so much emphasis on writing in the Book of Esther?

In the Babylonian Talmud (Bava Batra 15a), the Rabbis ascribe the writing of Megillat Esther to the Anshei Knesset Hag’dola, the Men of the Great Assembly. The Great Assembly led the Jewish people at the beginning of the Second Temple Era, a time that saw the last of the three Jewish oral prophets: Haggai, Zechariah and Malachi. The Great Assembly is creditedwith instituting prayers such as the Amidah, as well as to have canonized the 24 books of Tanakh — both activities that involve written text.

Read the full article on The Times of Israel

Enuma Elish and Megillat Esther

In the ancient Babylonian myth of Enuma Elish, Marduk, who possesses four eyes round his head and a hefty amount of confidence in his own infallibility, is appointed by all the gods as the chief warrior capable of battling against the mother of all gods and the epitome of chaos itself — Tiamat and the supreme monster she created, Kingu. He succeeds in obliterating Tiamat through trapping her in a net and killing her, as well as Kingu and creates the world out of Tiamat’s waters and humanity out of the blood of Kingu. All the gods and humanity are indebted to the supreme and unchallenging wisdom, power and strength of Marduk forever after. This ancient myth comes to resolve some of the most ancient ideas humanity has grappled with from its inception; dualism, chaos, nothingness, authority and autonomy. It answers these challenges in a binary way. There is order and chaos, good and evil, light and dark. It is imperative that humanity allows the order, good and light to win over all the other forces, or we will be forced into a reality of incessant war, uncertainty and darkness. Its narrative is one that sees humanity as inherently monstrous and evil creating chaos, disorder and uncertainty. The only solution is to acquiesce to a greater, better and more authoritative power that can reign over these dark forces. That power resides in the heavens, and dictates our mortal life here on earth.

The reason this Babylonian myth held scope for many thousands of years and became a template for so many other myths and even modern day films and dramas (think of fairy tales, Disney and Hollywood movies) is because it touches on an a deep existential truth. Every human being in every place and at every point in history grapples with fear of the uncertain, the unknown, the void, the abyss of nothingness. Today in a postmodern world after the failure of modernity’s constructs and progressive promises this is perhaps the question we face. We all seek an answer, the answer. We impose, onto an often chaotic and unsettling reality, superficial structures of order – good/bad, right/wrong, pure/impure, holy/profane to alleviate the dissonance we feel. One only need look at recent history to see how this plays out in so many guises. The fear of the unknown, of the unexplored territory, of the chaos come, is what impels us towards fundamentalist positions. It is what leads voters to opt for radical parties, it’s what creates a society of fear and isolationism – a them/us duality, and ultimately it is what paralyses us, impeding our ability to act. It impels us to the known, comfortable, status quo, even though it may be corrupt and regressive.

Read the full article on The Times of Israel

‘Write my story down for the generations to come,’ demanded Esther. But would the sages do it? (Historical fiction)

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/does-the-book-of-esther-belong-in-the-bible/