Another instance of topsy turvy

In this blog, I discussed the topsy-turviness behind two pieces of Talmud relating to Purim.

I think the same key can be used to unlock this puzzle.

The gemara in Megila 15a asks:

What did Mordecai say when he cried out his great and bitter cry (Chapter 3:2)?

It offers two possibilities:

Rav said: He said Haman has risen above Ahasuerus, for he saw that Haman had become even stronger than Ahasuerus himself, and that he controlled all affairs of the empire.

And Shmuel said: The upper King has prevailed over the lower king (saying this euphemistically and insinuating just the opposite). In other words: it would appear that Ahasuerus, the lower king, has prevailed over the higher King, God in Heaven, Who desires good for the Jewish people!

While we were discussing this gemara, Levi Newman asked me – why do both Rav and Shmuel have a similar theme of someone who is above someone else?
It's a good question. They could have suggested so many other things for Mordechai to cry out.

At first I made the connection with Esau – the great and bitter cry of Mordechai is couched in practically the the same language as Esau's cry when he discovers his brother has taken his birthright. Jacob has suddenly overtaken Esav to become the firstborn. It's all upside down.

But then I thought - the answer is more general and encompassing than that: Rav and Shmuel's answers were drawing directly on the "venahafoch hu" concept. "asher yishletu hayehudim", the Jews suddenly had the ascendance over their enemies, overturning the natural order. So too, the natural order is overturned in both Rav and Shmuel's statements. This is the essence of Purim.

Two Radical Pieces of Talmud (Purim)

Two radical pieces of Talmud are both connected to Purim. Oddly enough one is from tractate Shabbat 88a and the other from Sanhedrin 99b.

The Talmud in Shabbat 88a famously says that God held Mount Sinai over the heads of the Israelites and forced them to accept the Torah. Since this is not a very promising way to view our acceptance of the Torah - we could argue it is not legally binding - the Talmud then adds, "But they reaccepted it willingly in the days of Achashverosh." 

The Talmud in 99b tell us: 

And Lotan's sister was Timna... Timna was a royal princess... Desiring to become a proselyte, she went to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but they did not accept her. So she went and became a concubine to Eliphaz the son of Esau, saying, 'I had rather be a servant to this people than a mistress of another nation.' From her Amalek was descended who afflicted Israel. Why so? — Because they should not have rejected her.

In both cases, the Talmud is saying something completely unexpected, something that presents fundamentals of Jewish thought in an unflattering light that you would never in a million years have imagined the rabbis of the Talmud would wish to adopt.

In the first case, it tells us that the Israelites had to be coerced into receiving the Torah. What kind of statement is this, after the Exodus and all the miracles? It takes the entire experience and deflates it like a flat tire. In the second case, that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob acted wrongly and that all the trouble we have had with our archenemy Amalek is, in essence, our own fault.

I think it is not a coincidence that both are related to Purim. Purim is the turnaround, the topsy turvy, the unexpected.... leading to these radical pieces of Talmud.
And it is also the resolution of that upside-downness. In the days of Esther, the people accept the Torah of their own free will. And in the days of Esther, the Amalekite Haman is finally defeated and shown that it's God's will that counts. (One might also stretch things a little and, connecting Esther with Ruth as two women after whom megillahs are named, say that in Ruth the Jewish people accepted a convert despite her Moabite background, and thus rectify the previous rejection of Timna).

For He Told Them He Was a Jew

Esther chapter 3: Haman has become mighty, and all the king's servants are bowing to him. All except Mordechai.

3. Then the king’s servants, who were in the king’s gate, said to Mordecai, Why do you transgress the king’s command? 4. Now it came to pass, when they spoke daily to him, and he did not listen to them, that they told Haman, to see whether Mordecai’s words would stand; for he had told them that he was a Jew.

So I asked my Bibliodrama participants to be Mordechai, and posed the following question to them:
"Mordechai, you told Esther to keep her Jewish identity a secret. And yet you yourself reveal that you are a Jew - and in a very dangerous context, that of not bowing to Haman, offending him, and breaking the King's decree, to boot.
- At what point did you tell them you were a Jew? From the start, or in the course of time?"

My participant, Viktoria, replied as Mordechai: 
"In the beginning I kept it hidden. I was afraid to reveal my identity. But as time went on, and I daily did not bow, that action strengthened me. And it was during that process that I found myself suddenly deciding 'Enough of hiding, it's time to speak my truth. The time has come for me and us as a nation to stand up and not hide anymore, suffering the consequences if necessary."

I find it fascinating that, according to this interpretation, it was this situation with Haman, something that was the antithesis of all that is godly, that brought out this courage in Mordechai and enabled him to declare "I am a Jew". It reminds me very much of another biblical person who stands up and declares "I am a Hebrew" only because he finds himself in a strange situation that is not, seemingly, the godly route - and that is Jonah (Jonah 1:9):

I am a Hebrew and I fear the God of Heaven, who has made the sea and the dry land.

As I explain in another blog post "The Jonah Epiphany", this entire set of events with the sailors was not meant to occur; it would not have happened at all had Jonah obeyed God. And yet it enabled him to come to this place of growth for him, like Mordechai. 

We can deduce from this that even situations that seem difficult and wrong (and maybe specifically these) can be marvelous opportunities to bring out of us inner strengths we did not know we possessed.

Angry at Esther - God's Defender

I was discussing Megillat Esther with someone who expressed strong negative feelings that surprised me.

This person, a religious Jew who grew up in a rather different environment, every year becomes upset when he listens to the book of Esther being read, because there is no mention of God's name. He feels indignant, offended by the fact that Esther and Mordechai did not pray or give thanks to God for the miracles vouchsafed to them.

"The Torah makes it clear that it is always about God. We are to praise God and worship God," he protested. "What on earth is this?!?" He even suggested that we were punished with (longer) exile due to this egregious omission on the part of Esther and Mordechai. 

I found his defense of God moving, but of course I had my explanations at the ready. It's impossible that Esther and Mordechai omitted mention of God by accident, or due to any beliefs that the miracle of Purim came about accidentally/through human agency only. And the fact that the rabbis include the megillah and made Purim into a significant festival obviously validates Esther and Mordechai as people of faith.

But my conversational partner remained unconvinced and angry. This was the first time I had ever had such a conversation, and I must confess it came as quite a surprise. What I appreciated about it though was the absolute incomprehension of how you could have a religious text without God in it - no matter what the reason. 

I think since I've grown up with Esther for my entire life, I've always accepted the explanation that the book represents God's working in hidden ways. I find meaning in that message. Yet why should we accept that so easily - why indeed should there be a scroll in which God's name does not appear at all?

Yes, let us question that, let us be indignant for God's honour. Perhaps every year God awaits our zealousness for the divine name, to return it to centre stage. And perhaps every year, God sighs and shrugs upon seeing how facilely we accept the hiding of the divine. All of us, that is, except for my friend, who saves the day. Hmm.

Megillat Esther - The Great Chess Game

Chess came to Persia very early in its history. 

To me the megillah feels like a chess game. 

Player A: King Achashverosh, queen Vashti, knight Haman.

Player B: King G-d, queen Esther, knight Mordechai.

  

Player A's queen is knocked out very early in the game (BAD move) and that player then tries to get a variety of pawns to become a new queen. Unsuccessfully though: in the end, player B gets her queen (Esther) in among A's pieces.

This queen (Esther) starts causing havoc, along with her knight (Mordechai). In the end, she massacres A's pawns (Haman's sons and allies). She also uses A's own knight (Haman) to create a close to checkmate situation (1st party), followed by true checkmate (2nd party and the overturning of the decree).

P.s. Checkmating G-d was never really on the table 😉
And of course G-d is not just the King, but is also the player.