The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
MidrashThe Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash
Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion
PURIM
S.A.L.T.
By Rav David Silverberg and Guest
Writers
We noted the quality of the "ketoret" - the incense offering, introduced towards the end of Parashat Tetzave - that it combines fragrant spices with the foul-smelling "chelbena" - galbanum. The mixture transforms even the foul odor of the "chelbena" into a pleasant aroma. Chazal derive from here the concept that in prayer, the entire Jewish nation - righteous and iniquitous alike - must come together in unity and harmony, so that the qualities of the pious can impact upon the others. Am Yisrael in its entirety thus transforms into a single, "fragrant" nation.
This lesson of the ketoret may well relate to its
dominant theme, that of the protective cloud it generates in the
mishkan/Mikdash. (For a complete development of this idea, see Rabbi Leibtag's
shiur on Parashat Tetzave at the
In light of yesterday's discussion, we may reformulate this principle as follows: Benei Yisrael can survive exposure to God's revelation only through the joining together of the various elements of the population. The ketoret, the merging of the different sectors of the Jewish people, protects the nation from the potential divine wrath resulting from God's revelation. Individually, one cannot hope to emerge meritorious from divine judgment, the natural outcome of revelation; only the nation as a whole, through the collective merits of its individual components, can withstand the Shekhina.
Indeed, this theme is a dominant one in the Yamim Nora'im, particularly on Yom Kippur, the day of revelation. No single Jew can claim sufficient worthiness to stand before the Creator in judgment. We do so only by identifying wholeheartedly with the entirety of the Jewish nation, affording us the merits of one another as well as the national merits of our patriarchs.
The inverse relationship between Yom Kippur and Purim is well documented in Jewish homiletics ("Yom Ki'purim"). Purim, too, was a critical day of judgment, when the future of the Jewish people was at stake. The same Jews of Persia who had been "scattered and dispersed," disjointed and fragmented, now "gathered in their cities," joining forces and working together for a common cause. Only through this unity did they successfully defeat their enemies and triumphantly survive this frightening day of judgment. Appropriately, we commemorate this victory of unity by sending gifts to one another and making charitable donations to the poor. On this day, like on Yom Kippur, all social barriers come tumbling down. We stand as one, unified nation, working harmoniously with one another to overcome the challenges confronting us.
"In those days, and in these times," we can overcome the threat posed by our enemies only through unity - not only in government, but at every level of social interaction.
*****
The source of Ta'anit Ester is somewhat obscure, a quality almost necessarily following from the fact that it merits no explicit mention in the Gemara. Today we will look at three general approaches regarding the underlying reason for this fast.
The most common explanation views this fast as commemorative of a fast conducted during the time of Mordekhai and Ester. But even within this general position we find two conflicting views. Rabbenu Tam, cited by the Rosh and Ran towards the beginning of Masekhet Megilla, claims that this fast, which we observe on the thirteenth of Adar (the day immediately preceding Purim), commemorates the fast conducted on that same day in Ester's time. Although the Megilla makes no reference to such a fast, Rabbenu Tam presumes that the Jews in Ester's time fasted on the thirteenth as on that day they waged war against their intended executioners. As wartime warrants fasting and prayer, it stands to reason that the Jews engaged in just that on the fateful day of the thirteenth of Adar.
1) The Rambam (Hilkhot Ta'anit 5:5), by contrast, views this fast as recalling the fast observed "during the days of Haman," an apparent reference to the three-day faconducted in Shushan after the issuance of Haman's decree. The Rambam cites a textual reference from Megilat Ester to this fast (Ester 9:31), and considerable controversy exists as to the Rambam's intention in citing a verse. The Bach argues that in the Rambam's view, Ta'anit Ester attains the status of a full-fledged fast ordained by the Tanakh, as opposed to the conventional understanding that this fast is obligatory only by force of widespread custom. Consequently, contends the Bach, in the view of the Rambam Ta'anit Ester would not feature the leniency mentioned in the Shulchan Arukh (Rema, O.C. 686:2) concerning those feeling under the weather. The Arukh Ha-shulchan, however, strongly disputes this analysis of the Bach, insisting that even according to the Rambam, Ta'anit Ester has no stronger status than that of widespread custom.
2) Rav Yosef Karo, author of the Shulchan Arukh, composed a work called "Maggid Meisharim," in which he records the teachings revealed to him by a "maggid" (precise definition unknown, at least to me; apparently some kind of angelic being). According to this "maggid," this fast was instituted out of concern for inappropriate conduct that may result from the celebrations on Purim. A solemn fast day prior to the festivities helps guard one from sin on Purim day itself.
3) In a contemporary work of responsa entitled "Shut Shevet Hakehati," the author cites a fascinating approach to the fast posited by Kabbalistic thought. The Kabbalists maintained that Haman's decree was not entirely annulled; the Jews escaped it only in that generation. Future catastrophes that befell the Jewish people constitute, according to this view, a partial fulfillment of Haman's decree of annihilation. [The Kabbalists pointed specifically to the deadly Chmelnitzki uprising in 5408-9 as a fulfillment of Haman's edict.] We therefore observe a day of fasting and prayer to beg for the final elimination of Haman's plot against us.
*****
Yesterday's "S.A.L.T." concluded with an intriguing approach to Ta'anit Ester based on the teachings of Kabbalah. According to this view, the Jews escaped Haman's deadly decree only for that generation alone. Persecution against the Jewish people in subsequent generations is perceived as the partial, ongoing fulfillment of Haman's edict.
It is likely that even Kabbalistic scholarship has roots in the "revealed" Torah, such that even those of us untrained in the wisdom of Kabbalah may gain deeper insight into some - if only just a small handful - of its teachings. This particular insight may provide us with just an opportunity.
One view in Chazal attributes Haman's decree to the Jews' having partook of Achashverosh's feast, a sin commonly understood as referring to assimilation. In fact, this Midrash does not criticize the Jews' consumption of non-kosher food at the royal banquet, but rather their having "benefited" ("nehenu") from the meal. In other words, they saw themselves as fully integrated into Persian society and culture. God therefore summoned Haman to remind the Jewish people that their "laws are different from those of any other people and they do not obey the king's laws" (Ester 3:8). While Benei Yisrael figured they could avoid persecution specifically through assimilation, Haman felt otherwise: "it is not in Your Majesty's interest to tolerate them" (ibid.).
Although the Jews' repentance yielded them salvation from Haman's plans, the ongoing, tragic pattern of assimilation-persecution that has blood-stained Jewish history demonstrates the incomplete inculcation of this message. Apparently, the lesson of Shushan did not sufficiently survive the transfer of generations; Haman's decree remains. We therefore fast each year before Purim, beseeching the Almighty to spare us the deadly results of Jewish assimilation.
Purim celebrates Benei Yisrael's victory over the threats posed by assimilation. Ta'anit Ester reminds us, however, that this victory has yet to be completed.
*****
The Gemara in Masekhet Megila (12a) records that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai's students asked him why the Jews were deserving of annihilation during the time of the Purim story. Rather than answering, Rabbi Shimon asked the students to suggest an explanation. They replied that Benei Yisrael perhaps deserved this punishment for having "participated in ['nehenu' – literally, 'enjoyed'] the feast of that evil man." This refers to the lavish celebration conducted by Achashverosh, as described at the very beginning of Megilat Ester, in which Benei Yisrael took part. But Rabbi Shimon did not accept this explanation, noting that if the decree resulted from this misdeed, then it should have affected only the Jews of Shushan, since only they participated in the royal feast. Rabbi Shimon therefore gave a different reason, namely, that Benei Yisrael prostrated themselves before a Babylonian statue, and for this they were deserving destruction. The students asked their rabbi, if this is the basis for the decree, why was it ultimately annulled? If, indeed, the Jews were guilty of idolatry, then why did they earn salvation? Rabbi Shimon answered that just as they bowed to the idol only externally, but in their hearts had no intention of pagan worship, so did God only make it appear that they would be destroyed, while in reality ensuring their salvation.
The commentators have raised several questions concerning this dialogue, among them the seeming inconsistency in the students' responses. They questioned Rabbi Shimon's explanation, that Benei Yisrael deserved destruction for worshipping an idol, in light of the fact that they ultimately earned deliverance from the decree. But why did this problem not arise with regard to their suggestion, that Benei Yisrael deserved to be destroyed for having taken part in Achashverosh's feast? How did they understand the reason for Benei Yisrael's ultimate salvation according to this explanation for the decree?
Let us first examine the sin of participation in Achashverosh's feast. Why would this transgression alone render Benei Yisrael worthy of annihilation?
Chazal tell that this feast involved much more than merely
an ostentatious display of wealth and grandeur. Achashverosh
had mistakenly calculated that the seventy years of Jewish exile prophesied by
Yirmiyahu had passed without the reconstruction of the
By
taking part in and "enjoying" ("nehenu") this feast,
the Jews expressed their consent to Achashverosh's
declaration of the Jewish exile's permanence. They had reached the decision that they
no longer needed a Mikdash or Jewish autonomy in their
homeland. As they now live freely
under the protection of the benevolent
If
it is to this that Rabbi Shimon's students referred when they pointed to the
feast as the reason for the decree of annihilation, then we can understand why
they did not wonder how the Jews earned deliverance from Haman's decree.
For if they sinned in accepting exile as a permanent option for the
Jewish people, the threat of destruction alone – without its actual occurrence –
would suffice to correct their misconception of Diaspora life. The sudden prospect of their
annihilation at the hands of the Persian government reminded them of the need to
return to Eretz Yisrael and build their
But,
as Rabbi Shimon responds to his students, this accepting attitude to exile was
limited to the communities of Shushan, who lived at
the center of Persian life and thus viewed the Persian capital as an adequate
replacement for
*****
The Gemara in Masekhet Chulin (139b) searches for an allusion to Haman in the Torah, and locates it in a verse from Parashat Bereishit (3:11). After Adam and Chava eat from the forbidden tree, God asks Adam, "Have you eaten from the tree from which I have commanded you not to eat?" In Hebrew, this question reads, "Ha-min ha-etz asher tzivitikha le-vilta akhol mimena akhalta." The Gemara notes that when punctuated differently, the first word of this clause – "ha-min" – can be read as "Haman." Hence we have an allusion to Haman already early on in the Chumash.
Clearly, however, we should assume that the Gemara here points to something more than a coincidental similarity between the word "ha-min" and the name "Haman." Wherein lies the connection between this verse and the story of Haman?
Rav Menachem Kasher, in his Torah Sheleima (Bereishit, chapter 3, notes 63-64), contends that this Gemara refers to a Midrash cited by Rabbotenu Ba'alei Ha-Tosefot (in their comments to this verse in Bereishit). The Midrash writes that God told Adam after his sin, "I said you should be hung on a tree, but instead [this punishment] will be put aside and saved for Haman, who will be hung on it." This verse alludes to Haman because it was Haman who received, so-to-speak, the punishment that Adam had deserved for violating God's command and partaking of the forbidden tree.
In light of yesterday's discussion, however, we might suggest a different basis for associating Adam's sin with the story of Purim. Yesterday we saw that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai's students initially suggest that the Jews during Ester's time deserved destruction for having taken part in Achashverosh's festive celebration in Shushan. Many later writers have tried to explain why this participation rendered the Jews deserving of total annihilation. Even assuming that they actually partook of non-kosher food and wine, why is this transgression punishable by such a harsh decree? The "Sha'ar Bat Rabim" is cited (in Rav Shemuel Alter's "Likutei Batar Likutei" to Masekhet Megila) as pointing to the story of Adam and Chava as a precedent for such a punishment in response to eating forbidden food. The Jews deserved destruction for participating in the Persian king's celebration just as Adam and Chava brought death upon humanity as punishment for their partaking of the forbidden fruit. What is behind this parallel?
As
we discussed yesterday, Achashverosh's feast
celebrated what he perceived to be the permanence of the
This
may help explain the connection between the Jews' mistake in Shushan and Adam's sin in Gan
Eden. Last week, we saw that the
Mishkan and Beit Ha-mikdash serve as the means of man's return to Gan Eden. The
"keruvim" that guard the entrance to the garden (see
Bereishit 3:24) now symbolically stood inside the
Mishkan inviting man inside, to enjoy a close,
intimate relationship with the Almighty, similar to man's relationship to God in
Gan Eden before the sin. By willfully forfeiting the Beit Ha-mikdash, by accepting
exile as a permanent solution, the Jews of Shushan in
effect repeated the sin of Adam Ha-rishon, they drove themselves out from Gan Eden. Just
as Adam forfeited his unique relationship with God for the temporary enjoyment
of the fruit of the forbidden tree, so did Benei
Yisrael forego on the closeness to God made available by the
Thus, the Torah alludes to Haman in the verse, "ha-min ha-etz… " Haman threatened the Jews when they, like Adam, partook of the forbidden food, when rather than cultivating a close relationship with God in the "Gan Eden" of Yerushalayim, they preferred instead the fruits of Shushan, the lifestyle of food, drink and luxury that characterized the society in which they lived.
*****
A number of years ago, a group of yeshiva students serving in active duty in the Israeli Defense Forces were scheduled to embark on a military mission on the night of Purim, which made it impossible for them to conduct the Megila reading at night. Their only option was to read the Megila earlier, before sundown Erev Purim. Does Halakha permit reading the Megila before the end of the 13th of Adar, before nightfall? Further complicating matters, Purim that year fell on Motza'ei Shabbat (as it does this year, 5764). Assuming that we would generally permit Megila reading to take place before dark, would we allow reading the Megila on Shabbat?
The Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Yehuda Amital shlit"a, was asked to issue a halakhic ruling on the matter, and he printed his response in the yeshiva's publication, "Alon Shevut" (vol. 81). The first point that must be made is the ruling of the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 688:7) concerning a person who must embark on a trip and will not have access to a Megila on Purim. The Shulchan Arukh rules, based on the Yerushalmi, that in such a situation one may read the Megila anytime from Rosh Chodesh Adar. However, due to the controversy surrounding this position of the Yerushalmi (many believe that the Talmud Bavli does not accept this ruling), the Shulchan Arukh requires omitting the berakhot normally recited before and after Megila reading. Since we never recite a berakha if its obligation is questionable, we do not allow reciting the berakhot on Megila reading if one reads before Purim itself.
Accordingly, in our situation, the soldiers may undoubtedly read the Megila. The question, however, remains, is there any room to allow them to recite the berakhot, as well? Since they read the Megila not a week or even a day before Purim, but just shortly before sundown, can we perhaps consider this reading as being conducted on Purim itself, thus allowing for the recitation of the berakhot?
This question is subject to a debate among the authorities. The Beit Yosef (in 687 and 692) cites from earlier sources – the Orchot Chayim (who cites this ruling from the Ra'avad) and Terumat Ha-deshen – that some communities had the custom of allowing the Megila to be read before sundown. The concern in these communities was for those such as ill patients and pregnant women who have difficulty fasting. Since we generally observe the day before Purim as Ta'anit Ester ("the Fast of Ester"), and one may not eat once Purim begins until after Megila reading, certain communities decided to read the Megila early, before sundown, to make it easier for those who have difficulty fasting. The Terumat Ha-deshen bases this position on a ruling of Rabbenu Tam regarding the recitation of shema. Towards the beginning of the fourth chapter of Masekhet Berakhot, the Tanna'im argue as to whether one may recite mincha until sundown, or only until "pelag ha-mincha" (one and one-quarter halakhic hours before sundown). In other words, there is a debate as to whether the halakhic "day" ends at sundown or at pelag ha-mincha. According to Rabbenu Tam, this dispute applies to the nighttime shema, as well. Meaning, the position that views sundown as the end of the day and beginning of nighttime will allow reciting the nighttime shema only at that point; conversely, the view allowing the recitation of mincha only until pelag ha-mincha will permit one to recite shema already at pelag. Since the Gemara does not reach a conclusive decision regarding this debate, and explicitly allows one to follow either view, Rabbenu Tam permits one to recite shema already at pelag ha-mincha.
On the basis of this ruling, the Terumat Ha-deshen explains the practice of reading the Megila before sundown, after pelag ha-mincha. Since we may consider nighttime as having begun at pelag ha-mincha, already at that point one may read the Megila with its berakhot.
The Peri Chadash, however, vehemently rejects this view. He claims that since most authorities do not accept Rabbenu Tam's position, we cannot use it as a basis for permitting Megila reading before sundown. He writes that communities who follow this practice do not fulfill the requirement of Megila reading and recite berakhot le-vatala (wasted berakhot, a grave violation).
The
Bei'ur Halakha (692) cites
both views and notes that despite the Peri Chadash's objections, many Acharonim defend the practice cited by the Beit Yosef. He
therefore concludes that although one should preferably read only after sundown,
there is room to allow reading earlier under extenuating circumstances. Rav Amital
pointed out that when the city of
In our case, then, soldiers who are assigned to a military operation which prevents them from reading after dark may rely in this position of the Orchot Chayim and Terumat Ha-deshen, and read the Megila with its berakhot before sundown, after pelag ha-mincha. (If their only option is to read it before pelag ha-mincha, then they do not recite the berakhot.) Tomorrow we will discuss whether or not this would apply in a similar situation when Purim falls on Shabbat.
*****
The haftara for Shabbat Zakhor (the Shabbat immediately preceding Purim) is taken from the book of Shemuel I (chapter 15), and tells the story of King Shaul's failure to heed God's command to destroy the nation of Amalek. The prophet Shemuel orders the king to destroy the entire nation, to "spare no one" (15:3). Shaul immediately mobilizes an army and launches the offensive against Benei Yisrael's archenemy, but fails to complete the mission: "Shaul and the troops spared Agag and the best of the sheep, the oxen, the fatlings, the lambs, and all else that was of value" (15:9). God immediately speaks to Shemuel and informs him that as a result of Shaul's non-compliance, he is to be denied the privilege of a dynasty. He has forfeited the kingship, which is now to be transferred "to another who is worthier than you" (15:28).
A
review of this narrative reflects a certain tendency of Shaul, to overly concern himself with his image and
reputation among the people. In
response to Shemuel's question as to why he hears
"this bleating of sheep… and the lowing of oxen" (15:14), the king answers,
"They were brought from the Amalekites, for the troops
spared the choicest of the sheep and oxen… " The
prophet responds, "You may look small to yourself, but you are the head of
tribes of
After Shemuel informs Shaul of the grave consequences of his transgression, Shaul pleads, "Please, honor me in the presence of the elders of my people and in the presence of Israel, and come back with me until I have bowed low to the Lord your God" (15:30). Afraid of the humiliation he would suffer if Shemuel would leave him, Shaul begs the prophet to remain for the celebration planned in honor of his victory.
The
Maggid of Duvna, in his work
on the haftarot "Kokhav
Mi-yaakov," writes (commenting on the haftara for Parashat Shemini) that this quality of Shaul helps explain an otherwise obscure conversation
between the next king, David, and his wife – Shaul's
daughter – Mikhal. In
Sefer Shemuel II (chapter 6), David, shortly
after his conquest of
To this David responds, "It was before the Lord who chose
me instead of your father and all his family and appointed me ruler over the
Lord's people
*****
As we discussed yesterday, the haftara for Shabbat Zakhor, taken from Sefer Shemuel I (chapter 15), tells of Shaul's violation of the prophet's command to completely destroy the nation of Amalek. When the prophet, Shemuel, approaches Shaul and reprimands him for his disobedience, Shaul excuses himself by claiming that it was the people who decided to keep the cattle of Amalek and use it for sacrifices to God.
In Shemuel's response to Shaul's attempted justification, he declares, "For rebellion is like the sin of divination, and 'haftzar' [to be defined later] is like the iniquity of 'terafim' [idolatry]" (15:23). Different interpretations have been suggested for this verse. According to Radak, the two clauses of the verse convey the same message in different words: defying God's word is tantamount to grave transgressions such as witchcraft and idolatry. The Targum, by contrast, explains that Shemuel here speaks of two different wrongs. Violating God's word is equal in gravity to sorcery, but "haftzar" – adding onto the words of the prophets, amounts to something even worse: idolatry. The Targum here likely refers to the Gemara in Masekhet Yoma (22b) which describes Shaul's thought process as he entered this war. Commenting on the verse, "he quarreled in the wadi" (15:5), the Gemara explains that Shaul "quarreled" with the Almighty regarding a mitzva involving a "wadi" – namely, egla arufa. The Torah towards the end of Parashat Shoftim (Devarim 21:1-9) commands that when a murder victim is found in between two cities and the killer cannot be found, the elders of the nearer city perform a special ritual in an undeveloped wadi to atone for the crime. Shaul argued that if for the death of a single individual a community bears collective responsibility, then how can Shaul lead a campaign to destroy an entire people? He therefore stopped short of total destruction of Amalek, imposing his own intuition and reasoning onto the explicit command of the prophet. Shemuel informs the king that this self-claimed power to override or alter the words of God's prophets amounts to nothing less than idolatry.
The Malbim poses a third interpretation. He claims that the verse here distinguishes between "meri" – disobedience itself, and "haftzar" – which he interprets to mean "persistence" (see Bereishit 19:3, for example). Disobeying God's commands may be likened to sorcery in that the sinner places his trust in means other than the Almighty's word. But even worse, explains the Malbim, is "haftzar" – insisting on one's piety and refusing to accept criticism and acknowledge wrongdoing, which the prophet equates with idolatry. Shemuel indicates to Shaul that God could have perhaps forgiven him for his disobedience, but Shaul will not be forgiven for his denial of guilt and attempts to justify his conduct.
This
likely solves the mystery of the harsh punishment decreed upon Shaul – his family's loss of kingship – as opposed to the
forgiveness granted to his successor, David. Although David is severely punished for
sleeping with Batsheva (see Shemuel II, chapters 11-12), he nevertheless retains the
dynasty; God's promise of David's progeny's eternal kingship remains fully
intact even after the sin. Several
explanations have been offered to distinguish between the sins committed by
Shaul and David.
One simple approach, perhaps, is that David responds to the prophet's
rebuke with but two words: "chatati la-Hashem" ("I have sinned to God" – Shemuel II 12:13).
He makes no attempts at justification, he is not guilty of what Shemuel terms "haftzar" – stubborn
insistence on the correctness of one's actions. Nor does David come up with any excuses
for his misdeed. Though his
wholehearted admission of guilt in no way absolves David from punishment, it
does allow him and his family to continue sitting upon the throne of
*****
By Rav Moti
Novick
At the end of Hilkhot
Megilla in the Mishneh Torah, the commentary Hagahot
Maimuniyot quotes a fascinating opinion of R. Amram Gaon. According to this opinion, the Al
ha-Nissim prayer should not be recited in the amida of ma’ariv
on Purim night because at that point the megilla has yet to be read. Only after the reading of the
megilla can we insert Al ha-Nissim in our prayers and in the
birkat ha-mazon. The
Hagahot Maimuniyot reject this unusual idea, pointing out that the
reading of the megilla should be no different from the recitation of
Kiddush on any chag, which takes place only after ma’ariv
but still does not hold up the recitation of the prayers unique to the
chag. Even though it is not
part of the accepted halakha, can the stance of R. Amram Gaon be
justified?
It is not difficult to see that
the reading of Megillat Esther plays a much more central role in our
celebration of Purim than does the reading of the Torah, or of the other
megillot, on the other chagim in our calendar. One unique feature that stands out
immediately is the fact that the megilla is read twice. A glance at the Rambam’s
Hilkhot Megilla reveals that the lion’s share of the two chapters that
comprise the laws of Purim is devoted to the details of the reading of the
megilla; in fact, the Rambam does not mention any other aspect of
Purim until two-thirds of the way through the second chapter!
The Griz (R. Yitzchak
Ze’ev Soloveitchik, the “Brisker Rav,” 1887-1959) points out that the uniqueness
of the megilla among other portions of Tanakh read in public is
reflected in the laws governing the writing of the megilla. For instance, the Rambam does not
require the parchment on which the megilla will be written to be
processed with the explicit intent of using it for this purpose (ibud
lishma), an indispensable requirement with regard to a Torah scroll. In short, the Griz concludes, the
public reading performed on other holidays is a reading of some portion of
kitvei ha-kodesh (“the sacred writings,” referring to all of
Tanakh) relevant to the day.
Megillat Esther, though it happens to be a part of the kitvei
ha-kodesh like any other book of Tanakh, is not read on Purim in this
capacity. It is an independent
requirement, and does not need to meet all the criteria that kitvei
ha-kodesh are required to meet (e.g., ibud lishma). He does not elaborate on the nature of
this requirement.
It may be suggested that the
reading of the megilla on Purim is indispensable for the celebration of
the holiday. Purim is the first
rabbinic holiday aside from the four fast days commemorating different stages of
the destruction of the
We can return with this idea to
explain the enigmatic opinion of R. Amram Gaon. Until the megilla is read, there
can be no celebration of Purim, and therefore Al ha-nissim is omitted
from the evening service. Only once
we have read the megilla does Purim truly begin. Tomorrow we will show by examining the
verses of the megilla itself that the megilla may indeed play this
central role in our yearly celebration of Purim even though, as must be
re-emphasized, the opinion of R. Amram Gaon is not accepted as halakhic
practice.
******
We discussed yesterday the unique
nature of the reading of the megilla on Purim as a much more central
element in the celebration of the day than any other reading from Tanakh
on its corresponding holiday. We
suggested that the reading of the megilla is in fact necessary as an
impetus and motivation for the other mitzvot of Purim. Today we will see how the megilla
itself, in relating the story of the beginnings of Purim as a holiday, may
allude to its own centrality in the identity of that holiday.
The acceptance of Purim as a
holiday is related in chapter 9 of Megillat Esther as a process which
occurred in stages (see, e.g., R. Nati Helfgott’s article “Ma Bein Purim
le-Chanuka?” appearing in the periodical Alon Shevut #150). In the immediate aftermath of the great
victory, the Jews engaged in spontaneous celebration (9:16-17): “And the other Jews that were
in the king’s provinces gathered
themselves together, and stood for their lives, and had rest from their enemies,
…on the thirteenth day of the month Adar, and on the fourteenth day of the same
they rested, and made it a day of feasting and gladness.” We focus here on two subsequent
stages in which the megilla itself played a role in the
process.
In the first stage (9:20-28),
Mordechai ensures that the celebration becomes a yearly event by sending
messages to all Jewish communities: “And Mordecai wrote these things, and sent
letters unto all the Jews that were in all the provinces of the king
Achasverosh, both near and far, to enjoin them that they should keep the
fourteenth day of the month Adar, and the fifteenth day of the same, yearly,
that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, and of sending
portions one to another, and gifts to the poor. And the Jews took upon them to
do as they had begun, and as Mordecai had written unto
them…” What exactly were
these “letters” (sefarim)?
According to Rashi, these were nothing less than copies of the
megilla itself. That is,
Mordechai transformed Purim from a spontaneous celebration at the time of the
victory into a yearly celebration by distributing copies of the megilla
to be read each year. As verse 28 explicates, “and that these days should be
remembered and kept (nizkarim ve-na’asim) throughout every
generation.” The
Talmud Yerushalmi (quoted by Rashi) explains that “remembered” refers to
the reading of the megilla, and “kept” refers to the other commandments
of Purim. Purim can only be
celebrated if it is first “remembered”—if the megilla is read so that the
euphoria of the Jews of ancient
In the second stage (9:32), the
megilla became a sacred text:
“And the
commandment of Esther confirmed these matters of Purim; and it was written in
the book.” Rashi
quoting the gemara in Megilla 7a explains
that this refers to the admission of Megillat Esther into the collection
of kitvei ha-kodesh, or sacred texts, a precursor to what we know of
today as the Tanakh. Thus,
in the prior stage, when Mordechai sent out copies of the megilla to be
read as an indispensable part of the annual celebration of Purim, the
megilla was not yet considered a sacred text! This proves that indeed the reading of
the megilla on Purim has nothing to do with the fact that the
megilla is one of the kitvei ha-kodesh (in contrast to the public
readings performed on all other holidays) but is rather an independent
requirement, a fact whose halakhic ramifications we mentioned yesterday in the
name of the Brisker Rav. The nature
of this requirement, if our reading of these verses is correct, is nothing less
than the instrument by which Purim is perpetuated as a holiday. The only way that we can continue to
celebrate the victory of the Jews of Shushan thousands of years after the fact
is by first reliving that victory and the miracles that allowed it to
happen. The “nizkarim” must
precede the “na’asim.”
It is interesting to note that
Purim was actually accepted as a yearly celebration even before the first of the
two stages just described: “Therefore do the Jews of the
villages, that dwell in the unwalled towns, make the fourteenth day of the month
Adar a day of gladness and feasting, and a good day, and of sending portions one
to another” (9:19). The specific
contribution of Mordechai, and the crucial difference between this verse and
verse 22 quoted above, will be discussed next week.
******
The reading of Parashat
Zakhor on the Shabbat before Purim is a fulfillment of the Biblical command
to “remember
(zakhor) what Amalek did unto you by the way as you came forth out of
Egypt” (Devarim 25:17).
Chazal explained that this “remembrance” is not an individual
mental act but rather an active recollection by reading aloud from a Torah
scroll in a public forum. As
opposed to the general Torah reading, which is a communal obligation (chovat
ha-tzibbur) but not an obligation which devolves upon the individual
(chovat ha-yachid), the reading of Parashat
Zakhor is an individual obligation.
Thus, while in general someone who cannot make it to synagogue for
whatever reason is not obligated to gather a minyan in his home for
keriat ha-Torah, he must do so in order to hear
Parashat Zakhor.
The nature of this commandment
can be understood in two ways. The
obligation to remember may be linked to the other commandment regarding Amalek
(mentioned at the end of Parashat Zakhor): “you shall blot out the
remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; you shall not forget.” The Ramban in his commentary on
these verses seems to stress the link between these two commandments—the purpose
of remembering and keeping the memory alive is to ensure that future generations
not be lax in physically wiping out Amalek. Some of the rishonim who listed
the 613 commandments did not even count zekhirat Amalek as a separate
commandment, subsuming it instead in the commandment to destroy Amalek. Alternatively, it may be that
remembering is an independent requirement, because remembering allows us to
assimilate the lessons of history.
When we emphasize the importance of remembering the Holocaust, it is not
for the purpose of bringing its perpetrators to justice but rather (in addition
to perpetuating the memory of its victims) to learn from it the timeless lessons
of the evils of anti-Semitism and ethnic hatred, and the fragile position of the
Jew in gentile society.
Similar lessons can be gleaned from the story of Amalek.
It may be that the Magen
Avraham and the Mishna Berura debate precisely this point. The Magen Avraham (685: 1) holds
that one who does not hear Parashat Zakhor can fulfill his obligation by
hearing the Torah reading on Purim day, in which we read the Amalek story itself
(Shemot 17: 8-16). The
Mishna Berura, basing himself on the commentary of the Ramban
mentioned earlier, rejects this view, pointing out that the Amalek story makes
no mention of the obligation to obliterate Amalek. The Magen Avraham seems to
believe that the requirement to remember is an independent one.
Another issue which may depend on
this question is the opinion of the Sefer ha-Chinukh (commandment 603)
that women are exempt from the obligation to recall Amalek because they are not
obligated to participate in battle against Amalek. This opinion clearly assumes a strong
link between remembering and acting, in line with the Ramban and the
Mishna Berura. This opinion
is not shared by other authorities, and in practice women are equally obligated
to hear Parashat Zakhor.
The Minchat Chinukh and
other acharonim are puzzled by the Chinukh’s argument, even
assuming the link between recalling and destroying Amalek. The halakha obligates even women
to participate in a milchemet mitzva (obligatory battle), and doesn’t the
fight against Amalek fall into this category? R. Yaakov Etlinger (author of the
Aruch la-Ner) suggests that the obligation of women to participate in a
milchemet mitzva refers only to the conquest of the
The idea of distinguishing
between the obligation to fight Amalek and the obligation to fight the Canaanite
nations as part of the conquest of the Land also seems to emerge from the
Rambam. In his Mishneh
Torah, the Rambam mentions these two war-related commandments in
immediate succession (Hilkhot Melakhim 5: 4-5). However, he adds at the end of his
discussion of the Canaanite nations that “they and their memory have died out,”
and makes no parallel statement with regard to Amalek. Perhaps the Rambam considers
Amalek to be more than a specific ethnic tribe, but rather a timeless group
spanning history, bound together by the common ideology of anti-Semitism and
hatred. Seen in this light, the
obligation to destroy Amalek takes on an entirely new character. It may buttress R. Etlinger’s claim that
women are not obligated to participate in destroying Amalek (since it lacks the
urgent, immediate character of a war for immediate survival). More significantly, though, it provides
a new basis on which to link the obligation to remember with the obligation to
destroy. If destroying Amalek is
really a battle against the adherents to an ideology, then how can we continue
to identify those adherents if we forget the ideology itself? Remember the events, but more so,
remember the ideas that allowed those events to happen. Even if people die, the ideas live on,
and they can be far more dangerous.
******
On Shabbat Zakhor, the Shabbat
immediately preceding Purim, we read as the maftir reading the final
verses of Parashat Ki-Teitzei, which introduce the command to destroy the wicked
nation of Amalek and always remember their crime against Benei
Yisrael. Am Yisrael's campaign against Amalek is among the
cases of a milchemet
mitzva, a war that we are
obligated to wage. Halakha also recognizes the concept of a milchemet reshut, a war that is not obligatory but
permissible under certain conditions.
The Ramban, in presenting the list of
mitzvot which, in his view,
the Rambam erroneously omitted from his listing (lo ta'aseh 17),
discusses the question of whether consultation with the Urim Ve-tumim is
required before waging war. The
Urim Ve-tumim was an oracle-like device worn by the kohen gadol,
which would respond to inquiries regarding matters of national concern through
the illumination of its letters to spell the given answer. The device was occasionally consulted
when the nation was deciding whether or not to go to war, and, according to the
Ramban, this consultation was obligatory.
Before waging any sort of battle – be it a milchemet mitzva or a
milchemet reshut – Benei Yisrael were to first seek the permission
of the Urim Ve-tumim. The
Ramban cites as the source of this obligation the verse in Sefer Bamidbar
(27:21) concerning the appointment of Yehoshua as Moshe's successor: "He
[Yehoshua] shall stand before Elazar the [high] priest and inquire through him
about the decision of the Urim – in accordance with it shall they go
out…"
Rav Meir Dan Platsky (author of Keli Chemda), in his work Chemdat Yisrael, discusses this issue and notes that the
Rambam omitted this obligation from his listing of the mitzvot
because he deemed this consultation optional. In Hilkhot Melakhim (5:2), the Rambam
rules that before leading the nation to a milchemet reshut, the king must
receive the authorization of the Sanhedrin; before embarking on a milchemet
mitzva, the Rambam writes, the king does not require any authorization. The Rambam makes no mention here at all
of a requirement to consult with the Urim
Ve-tumim before initiating warfare
– even a milchemet reshut – and thus clearly held that this
consultation was optional, and not a prerequisite for waging
war.
After noting this dispute between the Rambam
and Ramban, the Chemdat
Yisrael proceeds to raise the
question of why the Ramban required the king to consult with the Urim
Ve-tumim before initiating a milchemet mitzva, such as the
battle against Amalek. Suppose the
Urim Ve-tumim responded in the negative, denying the
nation permission to wage this war that the Torah obligated. Seemingly, we should apply in such a
case the famous rule of lo
ba-shamayim hi, that no prophetic
source can ever suspend or override Torah law; God will never convey a message
through prophecy or any similar means calling for the abrogation of even a
single law of the Torah. It stands
to reason that the king should pay no heed to the Urim Ve-tumim's response advising against waging a
mandatory war. Hence, it seems
difficult to understand why, in the Ramban's view, the
Torah requires consulting the Urim Ve-tumim before waging a
milchemet mitzva.
The Chemdat Yisrael
answers by suggesting that the Ramban followed the view of the Chinukh
(425), who indicates that the obligation to eradicate the seven Canaanite
nations applied only when no threat to life was entailed. In situations where a member of Am
Yisrael would have to endanger his life to wage war against the Canaanite
peoples, he was not required to do so.
The Minchat Chinukh
disputes this ruling, claiming that by definition, a mitzva to wage war requires risking one's life,
and therefore Benei
Yisrael are required to wage war
in situations of a milchemet
mitzva even when this entailed
endangering their lives. If the
Ramban followed the Chinukh's view, that Benei Yisrael were
to wage a milchemet mitzva only when this did not involve a threat to
life, we can perhaps understand why he considered it obligatory to first consult
with the Urim Ve-tumim. The
purpose of this inquiry was to determine whether or not the conditions were safe
for initiating the given conflict, and the response of the Urim Ve-tumim
would thus establish whether or not the mitzva to wage war applied. Hence, the Chemdat Yisrael explained, the kohen gadol would ask the Urim Ve-tumim not for a halakhic decision, whether or not
the given battle was warranted, but rather the practical question of whether the
battle would endanger the lives of Benei Yisrael.
(It should be noted that the Ra'a, who many people believe authored the
Sefer Ha-chinukh, was a disciple of the Ramban, and it is
thus likely that the Chinukh's view concerning milchemet mitzva is indeed based upon a position of the
Ramban.)
******
A famous passage in Masekhet
Megila (12a) addresses the question of why the Jews were deserving of
annihilation during the time of Achashveirosh. One explanation cited claims that the
Jews were sentenced to destruction "because they took part [literally, 'they
enjoyed'] in the feast of that evil man [Achashverosh]." This refers to the lavish, seven-day
feast held by Achashverosh to which all residents of Shushan were invited, and
the participation of Shushan's Jews in this affair rendered all the Jews of the
Instinctively, we might explain
this harsh decree by viewing the Jews' participation in this feast as reflective
of a more general trend of assimilation.
God's anger was kindled not as a result of this particular event, but
rather the broader phenomenon that it represented, namely, the developing
distance between the Jews and Torah observance, their progressive involvement in
Persian society and culture at the expense of their traditions. After two generations in exile, the Jews
no longer saw themselves bound by the ancient laws of their grandparents, and
instead saw themselves as full-fledged members of Persian society, as manifest
in their participation in Achashverosh's feast. It was this trend of assimilation that
rendered
However, another, precise
opposite approach to the Gemara's comment may be suggested, and is indeed cited
in the name of Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook and Rav Yosef Salant (see http://torahweb.org/torah/2004/parsha/ryud_terumah.html). This approach explains the severity of
the Jews' participation in Achashverosh's feast in light of the Gemara's earlier
discussion concerning the nature of this celebration. The Gemara comments that the Persian
emperor celebrated what he perceived as the end of the seventy-year period of
Jewish exile foreseen by the prophet Yirmiyahu (29:10). Achashverosh miscalculated and
determined that this period had passed without the Jews' redemption, thus
disproving Yirmiyahu's prophecy. He
thus concluded that the Jewish exile is a permanent reality, and he celebrated
by conducting this lavish feast in which he displayed the articles from the
Beit Ha-mikdash that had been looted during the Babylonian conquest of
Jerusalem. Achashverosh thereby
sought to publicize the permanence of the Jews' exile and the impossibility of
their return to their previous condition of power and glory.
If so, then the Jews'
participation in Achashverosh's feast likely reflected their acceptance of the
emperor's conclusions, their resignation to living in a foreign land, under
foreign rule, without a Beit Ha-mikdash. This event reflected not the Jews'
gradual departure from Torah observance, but rather, to the contrary, their
belief that they can live full religious lives in Shushan. Having despaired from the nation's
return to
According to this approach, then,
the serving of kosher food at Achashverosh's feast embodied the intolerable
irony of the Jews' condition in
*****
The Rambam, in his Mishneh Torah, devotes a single section to the halakhot of Chanukah and Purim. In the introduction to this section he writes that in the following chapters he discusses "two positive mitzvot of the Sages." In other words, the Rambam includes all the mitzvot of Chanukah under a single mitzva, and likewise all the mitzvot of Purim as one mitzva.
Grouping together all the different mitzvot of Purim requires some justification. Three of the obligations indeed seem to very much relate to one another. Mishlo'ach manot and matanot la'evyonim, according to many views, are meant to help one another conduct a proper, lavish Purim feast; as such, these three mitzvot - the meal, mishlo'ach manot and gifts to the poor - all very closely connect with one another. But why does the Rambam include the two readings of the Megila under the same general mitzva as these three obligations? How does the Megila reading relate to these mitzvot?
Rav Soloveitchik zt"l suggested an answer based on a careful reading of the She'iltot (67), which cites the prohibition mentioned in the Gemara (Pesachim 68b) against fasting on Purim but adds an explanation: "mi-shum nisa" - because of the miracle. The Rav noted that the essence of the mitzva of the Purim feast involves "pirsumei nisa" - publicizing the miracle - the same concept underlying the obligation to read the Megila (see Masekhet Megila 18a). Once we view the mitzva of the meal as an expression of pirsumei nisa, rather than simply a requirement to rejoice, we can understand why the Rambam included the meal and the Megila readings under the same category of mitzvot.
This approach towards the nature of the obligation of the feast may yield some interesting practical ramifications. On Yom Tov, we generally assume that someone who will experience discomfort by eating is exempt from the obligation of simchat Yom Tov (rejoicing through eating and drinking on the festival). No such provision appears to exist regarding Purim; one must, it seems, force himself (presumably so long as this poses no threat to his health) to eat at least the bare minimum amount to fulfill the obligation of se'udat Purim. The Rav explained that on Yom Tov, the root of the obligation is simcha - rejoicing, which we accomplish through the medium of food and drink. Once food and drink do not yield the desired result, the obligation cannot apply. On Purim, by contrast, the merrymaking serves primarily to publicize the miracle; one's personal enjoyment, while certainly encouraged and perhaps an important component of the mitzva, does not lie at the core of this obligation. Therefore, even when one will not enjoy eating, he must conduct the Purim meal anyway so as to fulfill the obligation of pirsumei nisa.
(Taken from Rav Michel Shurkin's Harerei Kedem, pp.333-334)
*****
The mitzva of Megila reading on Purim essentially
requires every individual to personally read the Megila. The common practice of
having one individual read on behalf of the congregation emerges from the
halakhic mechanism of "shomei'a ke-oneh" - that listening is equivalent to
speech. By listening attentively to the Megila reading, one is rendered as
having himself read the text. (According to one view among the Rishonim,
however, women's obligation vis-à-vis Megila reading is different,
in that their essential requirement is to hear, rather than read.) One must
therefore ensure not to miss even a single word of the reading by the ba'al
korei.
An interesting dispute among the Acharonim exists as to how precisely "shomei'a ke-oneh" operates. (We briefly discussed this debate several weeks ago, in our S.A.L.T. series for Parashat Yitro, in the context of kiddush.) One view, espoused by the Beit ha-Levi, claims that the listener is considered as having actually articulated the words he hears. Halakha in effect transforms the listened word into a spoken word. The Chazon Ish, by contrast, disagreed. He maintained that the recitation of one individual has the power to fulfill the obligation of the listener even though we do not consider the listener as having personally articulated the words. Halakha allows one to fulfill his obligation concerning a given recitation by carefully listening to the recitation of another; we need not view him as having actually said the words.
The practical difference between these two approaches involves external requirements relevant to the recitation. For example, Tosefot (Pesachim 99b) debate as to whether those who fulfill their obligation of kiddush by listening must hold a cup of wine in their hands, as does the one reciting kiddush. The Chazon Ish claims that this question hinges around the fundamental issue we have discussed. If all "shomei'a ke-oneh" does is transform one's listening into verbalization, then only the recitation of the words can transfer from speaker to listener. The audience will thus require their own kiddush cups. If, however, we take the more liberal approach, that the Torah enables one to "ride on the back" of the speaker and have his recitation apply to the listeners, then only the speaker himself is bound by the external requirements. Once halakha allows one to fulfill his obligation through the recitation of another, then he need only to listen; the speaker's fulfillment of his requirement automatically transfers to them, as well.
The Chazon Ish tries to prove his position, that the recitation applies to the listener even without his being considered as having personally recited, from the halakha concerning Megila reading. One cannot fulfill his obligation to read the Megila if he recites the Megila by heart; it must be read from a scroll. Therefore, the Chazon Ish argues, if shomei'a ke-oneh merely renders the listeners as having personally verbalized the words, how do they fulfill their obligation of Megila reading by listening? As halakha requires reading the Megila from the written text, how can their halakhic "recitation" be valid if they do not have a text before them? (Needless to say, nowhere does halakha require that those listening to Megila reading have a proper Megila before them, though many poskim recommend it.)
Interestingly enough, the Chazon Ish himself laid the groundwork for the refutation of this proof. Recall that he understood Tosefot's debate in Masekhet Pesachim as surrounding this very issue as to how shomei'a ke-oneh operates. The fact that Tosefot does not invoke this proof suggested by the Chazon Ish indicates that it is not a valid proof.
But why not? How can we explain the application of shomei'a ke-oneh to Megila reading if we view it as simply rendering the listener as having personally read the Megila?
One may answer this question by sharpening the distinction between "reading" and "reciting." Indeed, according to the Bet ha-Levi's approach to shomei'a ke-oneh, one cannot fulfill requirements external to the recitation itself by listening. However, the requirement to READ the Megila from the scroll, rather than RECITE it by heart, constitutes an internal, rather than external, requirement. In other words, halakha requires reading the Megila, not reciting the Megila, and reading from a text is a fundamentally different act than reciting from memory. Therefore, one who listens to the reading of the Megila, even according to this approach, fulfills his obligation because he is considered as having himself READ the Megila. Were the written text requirement to be merely an external prerequisite, not inherent in the nature of the reading itself, this may indeed pose a problem. Once, however, this requirement relates to the very definition of the mitzva - to read, as opposed to recite, than this feature can indeed transfer from reader to listener. The listener is considered as having himself read the Megila, just as the reader himself did.
(Based on Rav Eliyahu YehuRosenthal, Imrei Dei'a, p.225)
*****
Upon leaof Haman's edict ordering the Jews' annihilation, Mordekhai informs Ester of the edict and implores her to appeal to the king (Ester 4:8). Though hesitant at first, Ester ultimately agrees to appear before Achashverosh in an attempt to spare her brethren. However, apparently refusing Mordekhai's specific instructions, Ester does not immediately beg the king to annul the decree. Instead, as we know, she invites him and Haman to two dinners she prepares and only then informs the king of her inclusion in Haman's plot. Why did Ester not appeal to the king right away?
In an elaborate analysis of Megilat Ester, Rav
Soloveitchik (in an address at
Ester perceptively knew all this and realized that she could not possibly persuade the king to spare the Jews in his current state of mind. Haman had successfully programmed the paranoiac king's mind to suspect the Jews of insurrection; an appeal by the queen, no matter how impassioned or eloquent, would be of no avail. Instead, she stalled for time, waiting for a window of opportunity to open and shift the king's suspicion from the Jews onto Haman. This occurred on that fateful night when "sleep escaped the king" (6:1). Achashverosh was reminded of Mordekhai's loyalty to him, and perhaps became angry at Haman for not rewarding the informer and even plotting to destroy his entire nation. With Haman suffering humiliation and Mordekhai having earned the king's favor, Ester saw an opportunity and seized it. Now she could turn the tables and shift the king's suspicion away from her people and onto Haman.
The Rav adds in this context that in the post-prophetic era, when God speaks to us only indirectly, we must exercise clear, careful and sound judgment in determining modes of action that will determine the fate of our nation. Our national leaders are charged with the responsibility of "intuiting prophecy," if you will, to carefully consider all options and decide how the Almighty wishes them to carry out their mission which He has assigned them.
*****
At the outset of his Hilkhot Megila, the Rambam lists those who are included in the obligation of Megila reading. Among those specifically mentioned are geirim (converts). From the explicit mention of converts, it appears as though their inclusion in this obligation is not self evident from their identity as Jews. This also emerges from a verse towards the end of the Megila: "The Jews undertook and obligated themselves and their descendants and all who might join them… " (9:27). Rashi interprets "all who might join them" as a reference to future converts. Apparently, a separate, explicit provision was necessary when the mitzvot of Purim were instituted to include geirim in the relevant obligations. Why? Does not a convert become obligated in all mitzvot just like Jews from birth?
Rav Soloveichik (as quoted in Mesorah, vol. 8, pp. 9-10) suggested that the institution of Purim differs from other edicts of Chazal in that it began purely by force of custom. The Megila states explicitly that the observance of Purim began as a custom and only thereafter became institutionalized as a formal, binding obligation: "The Jews accordingly assumed as an obligation that which they had begun to practice… " (9:23). Therefore, one may have instinctively assumed that only those whose ancestors originally undertook these practices were bound by the subsequent, formal requirement - to the exclusion of converts.
We may add that unlike Chanukah, Purim celebrates our defeat over racial, rather than religious, persecution. Whereas the Greeks sought to destroy the Jewish religion, Haman decreed annihilation on those of Jewish ethnicity. It is commonly understood that for this reason we observe Purim through physical indulgence, whereas on Chanukah no obligation of festivity or merrymaking applies. Thus, without an explicit decree to the contrary, one may have intuitively excluded converts from the obligations of Purim. As they took on the religion but do not share the same ethnic origins, the Purim story may have no relevance to them. When establishing Purim, however, the Jews of the time issued an explicit provision including future converts in the celebration of Purim.
[For "extra credit": According to our suggestion, what may we learn about the nature of Purim from the fact that, in the end, geirim were in fact included in the mitzva?]
*******
An intriguing passage in the Gemara, in Masekhet Chulin (139b), inquires as to where we may find an allusion to Mordekhai, one of the protagonists of Megilat Ester and the Purim story, in the Torah. The Gemara responds by citing two words from Parashat Ki-Tisa. Towards the beginning of the parasha, God lists the ingredients used to make the shemen ha-mishcha - the anointing oil with which the kohanim and vessels of the Mishkan were formally consecrated. The first of these ingredients is "mar deror" (a type of myrrh). The Gemara notes that Onkelos translates this term as "mora dakhya," which the Gemara sees as a subtle allusion to "Mordekhai." (Interestingly enough, in non-leap years Purim falls in the week of Shabbat Parashat Ki-Tisa.)
Understandably, many later writers assumed that this "allusion" involves more than the play on words between "mora dakhya" and "Mordekhai." Firstly, if this is all the Gemara sought to convey, wherein lies the significance of this allusion? What do we learn from the fact that the Torah alludes to Mordekhai in Parashat Ki-Tisa? But moreover, this allusion is not found in the Chumash itself; it appears in the Aramaic translation of Onkelos. Apparently, then, this Gemara indicates a stronger connection between this verse and Mordekhai, beyond the loose, lingual association between "mora dakhya" and "Mordekhai."
Rav Shimon Schwab zt"l, in his "Ma'ayan Bet
Ha-sho'eva," suggests that the allusion to Mordekhai
lies specifically in the discrepancy between the superficial meaning of "mar
deror" and Onkelos' translation of the term. The Hebrew word "deror" generally
means freedom, or liberty. For example, a famous verse in Sefer Vayikra (25:10)
requires that we "proclaim deror [liberty] throughout the land" on the jubilee
year, when all indentured servants were freed and all lands returned to their
original owners. Instinctively, then, we would have perhaps translated "mar
deror" to mean "wild myrrh," an herb that naturally grow freely and spreads
easily. Targum Onkelos, however, translates differently: "mora dakhya" - "pure"
myrrh. According to the Targum, "deror" here means not freedom, but rather
purity. This, Rav Schwab suggests, is the allusion to the Mordekhai. On the
surface, Mordekhai appears to have simply liberated the Jewish people from
Haman's edict. His role might be viewed as simply one of a "freedom-fighter" of
sorts, releasing his people from the persecution of the
Among the common themes of Purim is the discrepancy between superficial appearance and that which lies beneath the surface. According to Rav Schwab, the Gemara had this theme in mind when searching for the allusion to Purim in the Chumash. Chazal searched for an instance where on the surface we see one thing, but when we probe deeper we find something far more profound and meaningful. The freedom achieved on Purim was actually about purification, spiritual revival and renewed devotion to the laws and values of the Torah.
*******
Megilat Ester tells
that after Haman issued the royal decree to destroy
all Jews in the
But why does Ester refer specifically to the verse describing the luchot? Wherein lies the connection between the luchot and the sins she attributed to the Jews of her time?
The "Iyei Ha-yam" (one of the commentaries on the Aggadic sections of the Talmud) explains based on Chazal's interpretation of that verse in Parashat Ki-Tisa. The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (104a; see also Rashi on that verse) comments that when the Torah describes the luchot as "inscribed on one side and on the other," it refers to their supernatural quality, namely, that they can be read from either side. Quite obviously, this would be impossible without a miracle. Similarly, the Gemara mentions several pages earlier (99) that the rounded-shaped letters "mem" and "samekh" existed on the luchot miraculously. Since the letters on the tablets were etched through to the other side, the insides of these letters should have fallen off the tablets. Only due to a miracle did these letters remain on the luchot.
What purpose was served by this miracle? What message does it convey?
The "Iyei Ha-yam" suggests that this miracle was intended to symbolize the fact that the Torah's commandments know no limitation to time and space. One could read the writing from either direction, because the Torah remains applicable in all locations, regardless where a person – or the nation at large – stands. God wanted to emphasize that whereas most codes of law can be read from only one direction, they apply only in the time and circumstances foreseen by their codifiers, the Torah's laws are separate from the stone, so-to-speak, and are not confined to any particular situation.
With
this in mind, the "Iyei Ha-yam" writes, we can
understand Ester's response as understood by Rabbi Yitzchak. Ester instinctively looked for a
spiritual flaw on account of which Benei Yisrael are
threatened, and she came up with the miraculous quality of the luchot. Many
Jews in Shushan had reached the decision that they are
not bound by the Torah's laws in
*****
After Mordekhai persuades Ester to appear before King Achashverosh and appeal on behalf of the Jews, she, in turn, instructs Mordekhai to assemble all the Jews in Shushan and observe a three-day period of fasting. The Megila then writes, "Mordekhai went about and did just as Ester had commanded him" (4:17). The Gemara in Masekhet Megila (15a), noting the seemingly superfluous phrase, "va-ya'avor Mordekhai" ("Mordekhai went about"), suggests that we interpret "va-ya'avor" to mean "he crossed." Specifically, the Gemara explains that Mordekhai crossed an "urkema de-maya" – referring to some body of water - in order to gather the Jews located on the other side. What message does this Gemara seek to convey?
The Manot Ha-levi (among the classic commentaries to Megilat Ester, written by Rav Shlomo Alkabetz), observes that later in Masekhet Megila (28), the same term – "urkema de-maya" – appears once again. Rashi there translates it to mean a puddle. Mordekhai did not have to cross an enormous river, let alone an ocean, to carry out Ester's command. He needed only to cross over a puddle of water. Why, then, is this worthy of mention at all? The Manot Ha-levi explains that the Gemara here teaches the importance of seemingly small and insignificant mitzva acts. Nobody would have thought to commend Mordekhai for his crossing this puddle as part of his efforts to mobilize the Jewish people. Chazal, however, wanted to impress upon us the importance of even seemingly minor achievements.
Still, the question remains, to what does the Gemara refer by this body of water? What does it represent?
The
Maharal of Prague, in his "Or Chadash," draws an association between this comment of the
Gemara and a more famous passage in Masekhet Sanhedrin (89). There the Gemara discusses akeidat Yitzchak,
God's command to Avraham to bring his son Yitzchak to
Apparently, according to the Maharal, mobilizing and uniting the Jewish people in response to Haman's decree was no easy task. What were the difficulties Mordekhai faced? It's hard to know for sure, but we can easily imagine the controversies that he may have unwillingly ignited. For one thing, this three-day fast was declared during the festival of Pesach. Mordekhai effectively sought to cancel that year's Pesach celebration in order to pray and fast. In fact, a different view in the Gemara maintains that the term "va-ya'avor," which relates to the Hebrew word for transgression ("aveira"), alludes to the problematic nature of Ester's order, which required fasting on Pesach. Quite conceivably, many Jews vehemently objected to Mordekhai's demand to observe a three-day period of fasting at this point. Others, perhaps, felt that Mordekhai was heading down the wrong path entirely. Instead of praying and fasting, some may have argued, the Jews should employ other means, such as diplomatic efforts, bribes, or armed resistance. Perhaps these are the "puddles of water" that threatened to block Mordekhai's attempt to establish a citywide period of fasting and prayer.
Chazal inform us that Mordekhai and Ester were descendants of King Shaul, who, as we discussed in our S.A.L.T. series last week, failed to fulfill the order of the prophet Shemuel to destroy the nation of Amalek. His descendants, Mordekhai and Ester, are assigned the task of completing the mission and eliminating Haman, scion of the Amalekite king Aggag, whom Shaul let live after the war with Amalek. As we saw last week, Shaul erred by not opposing the soldiers who wanted to take spoils from Amalek rather than destroying the nation entirely. Mordekhai corrects this flaw of his ancestor by displaying strong leadership and firmly pursuing the three days of prayer and fasting. Unlike Shaul, he did not back down due to public opinion, but rather "crossed the river," exerting himself tirelessly until he carried his mission through to completion.
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By Rav Motti
Novick
We began to discuss last week the
different stages in which Purim was accepted as a holiday according to chapter 9
of Megillat Esther. Aside
from the role of the megilla itself in this process (the focus of our
previous discussion), it is instructive to trace the development of the specific
mitzvot associated with the holiday.
On the first Purim, when the Jews
had just emerged victorious and turned the decree of annihilation against their
enemies, each of the days of victory—14 Adar everywhere but Shushan, and 15 Adar
in Shushan—was spontaneously celebrated as “a day of feasting and gladness” (9:
17-18). At this point, the
celebration is a one-time event, and no mention has yet been made of
perpetuating the holiday. The
following verse (9: 19) reveals that such a transition indeed occurred on its
own: “Therefore do the Jews of the
villages… make the fourteenth day of the month Adar a day of gladness and
feasting, and a yom tov, and of sending portions (mishloach
manot) one to another.”
The transition of Purim from a victory party to a yom tov involved
the addition of the practice of mishloach manot. This seems a rather strange idea; what
is the meaning of mishloach manot (a unique mitzva in our
calendar) and why was the establishment of Purim as a holiday linked to this
practice?
There are two explanations given
in the halakhic literature for the practice of mishloach manot on
Purim. The Terumat ha-Deshen
(Siman 111) claims that the purpose is to ensure that the recipient have
enough food to be able to have a minimal se’uda. Therefore, he claims, only gifts of food
and drink can count toward this obligation, not new clothes and the like. The Rambam also seems to specify
that mishloach manot must be gifts of food (Hilkhot Megilla