Last night at sundown the Jewish holiday
Purim began and continues until tonight's sunset. It is one of my
favorite of all religious celebrations. As a Rabbi
who spoke last night at the Peace
and Unity Prayer Vigil at Islamic
Foundation North in Waukegan said.
“Purim is a holy day when we are commanded to have fun.” In the face of unspeakable tragedy born of hatred and bigotry at mosques in New Zealand his congregation was happy to forgo their own joyous celebration to
join their Islamic brothers and sisters in solidarity
and love. But to that somber occasion, he and many
members of his congregation brought the spirit of defiant joy with them. After
all the Muslim community had stood
with them in the fearful dark aftermath of the Tree of Life Synagogue slaughter and the story of Purim is a tale
of a people saved from destruction.
To familiarize folks with her story and
the joyous festival which commemorates it—I’m talking to my fellow Goyim—we review just what the hell went
on.
A young girl, Esther, is picked by a drunken Persian king to be his new bride. She keeps her Jewish identity a secret. Meanwhile her protector and cousin Mordecai discovers a plot
to kill the king and by informing saves his life.
Queen Esther and the King.
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The King appoints the vain and treacherous Haman as his new Vizier. Haman is offended
when Mordecai is insufficiently
obsequious to him in public. Miffed,
he plots to have not just Mordecai, but all of the Jews of kingdom killed. He gets the king, who has been participating
in public drinking festivals for six
months and is perhaps a tad addled,
to sign such a decree.
After sending words to the Jews of the kingdom to join in
three days fast and prayer Esther gets the king drunk yet
again at a royal drinking festival that she hosts with Haman among the guests. After the first night of debauchery Esther reads to the King the annals of Mordecai’s life saving service.
She then asks Haman what boon the King should give to a man who has done him great
service. Vainly thinking she means him,
Haman says the honoree should be
dressed in the royal robes and paraded before the people on the king’s own horse.
Mordecai is glorified.
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The king astounds Haman by bestowing the boon on Mordecai
and orders him to see that the command is carried out.
On the second night of the Festival Esther reveals that
she is Jewish as is her cousin and that by the edict the king himself had
signed all of her people, and she herself were marked for death. Outraged,
the king orders Haman hung on the gallows
built for Mordecai and names the Jew as his new Vizier.
Esther denounce Haman to the drunken King.
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But he cannot revoke
his own edict. Instead he issues another
which allows Jews to arm themselves and
slay their attackers. On the 13th
Day of Adar the planned attacks are launched but the Jews slay their
attackers by the hundreds and thousands, including all seven sons of Haman.
The Jewish people are saved and flourish for a while as never before in exile.
Purim celebrates the deliverance exuberantly with costumed recreations of the story, noise makers meant to drown out Haman’s
name whenever it is read in the telling of the story, special foods, and, of course plenty of drinking and merrymaking.
Children have fun celebrating Purim at a Boston Synagogue.
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Back in 2012 the celebration coincided with International Women’s Day on March
8. This year the slippery Jewish lunar calendar
missed that by nearly two weeks.
Back then I was intrigued
because at the center of Purim is one of the few women of the Hebrew Bible
or Old Testament to take a leading role in the story. The lovely Queen Esther always struck me as
wonderfully subversive and feminist. The story of Esther, heroine and savior of
her People, resonates with women whether Jewish or Gentile.
So I wrote her a poem imagining her sitting down with
some contemporary sisters.
Queen Esther Revealing Her Identity from a stunning series of
contemporary mosaics of the Purim story by Lilian Borca.
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Purim/International
Women’s Day
14th day of Adar
5772/March 8, 2012
Queen Esther
tossed her head,
gleaming black hair
tumbling to those lovely shoulders
that had enticed a lecher King.
She laughed.
Her people, the
Women of another age,
leaned toward her
waiting her word.
She cast her
blazing eyes upon them,
laughed again
and spoke at last.
“So many
Hamans. Where shall we begin?”
—Patrick
Murfin
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