Unmasking Purim's Social Justice Component

Saturday at sundown marks the beginning of the Jewish holiday of Purim. Considered by some as a sort of “Jewish Halloween” because of the opportunity to dress in costume and eat and drink oneself into oblivion, the holiday is in fact much more than a wild Mardi Gras.

Jews will come together on both Saturday night and Sunday to read from the megillah—the scroll of Esther. They’ll tell the story of a young Jewish woman in Persia who marries King Ahashverosh and hides her Jewish identity. When the evil Haman plots to kill the Jewish people, Mordechai —Esther’s uncle—asks her to risk her own life by revealing her true identity to the king and saving the Jews from what will be certain destruction. In a reversal of fortune, the king orders that Haman and his family are to be killed and the Jews to be spared.

Rather than Purim being the standard summary of most Jewish holidays— ‘They tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat”—Sharon Brous, the founding rabbi of West L.A. spiritual community IKAR, wrote a thoughtful piece about the holiday. In it, she states: “Our rabbis teach that on Purim we are to ply ourselves with wine, drinking ad d’lo yada—until we can no longer tell the difference between 'Cursed be Haman' and 'Blessed be Mordecai.' 

"We wear costumes that simultaneously mask who we are and reveal the part of ourselves we work all year to hide. We eat, drink, dance and laugh in the face of our darkest fears—the possibility that human life and human history can change on a dime, that everything we know to be true could be a farce, that there is more chaos than order in the world. It is an exercise in radical spiritual destabilization. And the response is the closest Jews come to carpe diem—one day a year when our otherwise exacting tradition understands that sometimes drunken revelry is the only reasonable response to desperate vulnerability.”

In the wake of the tragic events in Japan this past week, however, it may seem to some Jews that dressing up and dancing this weekend is at the very least in poor taste, if not downright insensitive.

However, Brous, whose congregation is dedicated to reanimating Jewish life through soulful religious practice rooted in a deep commitment to social justice, notes that “Purim compels us to confront life's utter unpredictability: Everything we know to be true might be turned on its head, everything that seems permanent might disappear in an instant. In the past several days we have witnessed two painful and powerful reminders of the truth of this claim. Our hearts break over the massive devastation caused by the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, and at the same time we mourn the loss of the parents and children of the Fogel family who were brutally murdered in their home in Itamar [in Israel].

“Often in the face of disaster and crisis we feel a deep sense of helplessness. And for many of us these two tragedies evoke a particular vulnerability. …  But Purim teaches that there are two responses to the capriciousness of life: mishloah manot—giving portions of food to our friends and loved ones—and matanot l'evyonim—gifts to the poor.

The commandments Brous speaks of, come straight out of the megillah: 'And Mordecai wrote these things, and sent letters to all the Jews … that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, and of sending food one to another, and gifts to the poor (Esther 9:20-22).'  "

Brous sums up these two commandments as “love” and “justice” and offers a few things that Jews can all do as they celebrate Purim this year:

“Contribute to the relief effort in Japan," she urges. "Even though Japan is a wealthy nation, this catastrophe is overwhelming and a tremendous amount of assistance is needed. There are many great organizations to support—American Jewish World Service recommends Mercy Corps, which has a long history of disaster relief and takes a long-term view of disaster relief that goes beyond providing immediate food and medicine to also include ongoing development and reconstruction.  

“Pray for peace in Israel and the whole Middle East," Brous continues. " Pray that this tragedy will not be used as a political weapon, pray that it will not lead to more hatred and violence. Pray that the three surviving Fogel children will find comfort and healing, that their memories of their parents and siblings will be a blessing to them, to their community and to the Jewish people.

And finally, she urges: "Hug your children, your friends and family. And give generously.  Perhaps in this way we might respond to the darkness of tragedy with the light of hope."

Patch wishes all who celebrate Purim,  a happy and meaningful holiday.