Purim and Secrets

An opinion piece by Rabbi Steven Greenberg (Orthodox), originally published in the American Israelite, February 10, 2011.

Letter to the Editor, Feb. 10

February 10th, 2011 | Section: Opinion

Dear Editor,

Purim is a holiday that celebrates the power of secrets and their revelation; it is, in effect, the holiday of “coming out.” The rabbis of the Talmud mark Purim explicitly as the festival of masks, which calls for nothing less than an unmasking of ourselves and ultimately, of God. This is the one time of the year when drinking a bit too much is a “mitzvah” because, in their words, “the wine goes in and the secrets come out.” If there way any day that might be employed by gay Jews to signify the meaning of coming out, the fast of Esther ending in the celebration of Purim is it.

The story begins with all its characters in lavish concealment. Each of them manage a powerful public persona while hiding an inner secret that if revealed would seem to undo them. There is a sustained tension between what characters are and what they seem to be that moves the plot forward and it is the careful unraveling of disguises that makes for salvation.

King Achashverosh, according to tradition, was not of royal blood; he had married into Persian royalty. Vashti was the true Persian princess and because she refuses to take off her royal robes she is banished or killed. She is the only one who refuses to dress up (or in this case down) as something she is not. Achashverosh has risen to royal power, but he is not royal material. He is a fool and a degenerate, a common lout dressed up in royal robes. He is also terribly insecure, anxious to build his political support and fearful of being challenged or manipulated.

Esther and Mordechai are closet Jews. Mordechai is a statesman who is known in the king’s court but he does not flaunt his Jewish identity. Indeed, it is perhaps for this very reason that he warns Esther not to reveal her identity. The people perceive Esther as a lovely Persian woman who has become a Persian queen.

Haman, like the king, rises to power with little, if any, merit. His secrets are his bloated ego and his hunger for royal power. Haman conceals all this from the king, including his irrational hatred of Mordechai.

The turn in the plot occurs when Mordechai is forced to choose between his inner and outer identities. Is he a Jew or a Persian noble? If he refuses to bow down to Haman, he will almost certainly lose his status among the Persian elite. If he bows, he understands that he will lose his inner Jewish self. In this moment of reckoning, Mordechai recognizes himself as a Jew and refuses to bow. The story isn’t clear as to

how Mordechai’s secret is found out. Someone tells someone who tells Haman that this rude fellow is a Jew, and Haman begins his plot to revenge himself of Mordechai and his people.

Mordechai realizes that he must turn his secret inside out. He must now bear witness to the inner truths. He sits at the gate of the palace in sack cloth, a bold and public expression of his internal state of affairs no longer concealed in beautiful robes. Mordechai’s self-expression sets in motion the unmasking of Esther, then of Haman, and finally of Achashverosh.

It is, however, Esther’s moment of courage that carries the most dramatic turn of story. She is at first resistant. Her coming to the king uninvited is mortally dangerous. Moreover, even if he is willing to hear her out, she has no reason to think that he will not side with Haman against her. Her cousin presses her not to try to save herself by passing. Esther reveals her secret deftly while aware of all the risks and uncertain of the outcomes.

What does all this drama between revealed and concealed selves say to us? Of course, the Book of Esther could be read as a midrash on Jewish life in the diaspora. How we conceal and reveal ourselves as Jews, is a diaspora story.

But there is also a more personal journey described. In many ways we are all Marranos, hiding behind our various masks and robes. What can we glean from Esther to help us manage the interplay between our inner and outer lives? Can Mordechai teach us something about the search for wholeness? At the end of the story all the inner truths come to light. As the story unfolds, there seems to be a redemptive quality in self-expression. When all is revealed, Esther becomes a powerful queen and Mordechai the king’s most trusted counselor. Even Achashverosh seems to achieve a more royal demeanor. Each of these fuller identities was achieved by reconciling the inner and outer persons.

The story is also about the need to protect a life apart from the public eye. As Esther enters the king’s palace Mordechai warns her not to reveal her identity. Later he implores her to do so. It seems that there is a right and wrong time to reveal the self. Perhaps the story is about the dynamics of identity that cannot escape a tension between expression and inhibition. We are who we are not only by our self- revelations, but by our careful nurturing of a private world.

As well, not all inner lives are equal. Haman uses his disguise for singularly destructive ends, and is ultimately destroyed by his inner self. Haman falls on Esther’s couch revealing more than an urge for power. Mordechai is revealed by his principles; Haman by his hubris and his libido. At the perfect moment, Esther reveals herself as a

Jew and saves the Jewish people. Though the war between the inner and outer worlds is over, there is no clear victory of one self over another. Instead there is a new and diverse wholeness, an integration of mask and man.

The rabbis describe the God of the Book of Esther as a hidden God, a God who dances in between the revealed and the hidden, patient and waiting for the right moment to burst forth. The name of Esther in Hebrew means, “I will hide,” which is nothing less than God’s invitation to us to start looking for him. We too, find our journey in both inward and outward movements. Often we work behind the scenes nurturing a life apart, a sense of privacy and clarity. And when the moments come to stand for one’s inner truths, for principle, or for one’s people, then we must turn inside out and witness, loud and proud and sure.

The time has come for a National Jewish Coming Out Day. The fast of Esther may seem a bit austere for such a commemoration, but actually it possesses a potent acknowledgment of the fears and the dangers of those in the closet and holds a place for the confusion and disruption that the coming out of a loved one can have for family and friends.

Those actually using the day to come out may indeed wish to employ the fast in order to center themselves in clarity, prayer and soulful preparation. Perhaps in those last moments of the Fast of Esther, just before the reveling of Purim begins, it is the right time to start telling the truth. Others may wish to skip the strum and drang and come out to friends and family on the day of Purim, as a celebration of Esther’s courage. In either case, the moment is perfect for the taking off of masks and conveying, perhaps for the first time, that our story is a Jewish one.

Rabbi Steven Greenberg

Purim and Environmentalism

Question:
I was just reading an article about “being green” (reducing, recycling, etc.) and it got me thinking about the carnival prizes we give out at our Purim carnival.  I’ve been to many events like this where the kids win all kinds of plastic toys that end up broken and in the trash within a few days.  Is there another prize idea we can offer that is more environmental, in keeping with our Jewish values?

Answer:
There are many environmentally sensitive prizes in keeping with Jewish values.  For example:

  • Money – each dollar bill personally signed by the rabbi!
  • A card that says “A donation has been made in your name to the Congregation Ahavas Israel endowment fund.”
  • Books (a bit expensive, but what a statement it would be if every winner received a $70 Etz Hayim Humash)
  • A FREE trip to Israel (the fine print says that they have to be 18-25, and apply via the Birthright Israel website …)
  • A little piece of papers that says “Congratulations, success is its own reward!”
  • An easily broken paper toy that ends up in the recycling instead of the trash.
  • A kosher chicken.  For the vegetarians, a hard boiled egg.  For the vegans, a beet.

Any other suggestions?

Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – March/2011

My colleague Rabbi Brad Artson gave a talk to rabbis recently in which he said that rabbis need to get over their traditional aversion to dealing with congregational financial issues.  Fundraising and other financial issues in an institution of Torah are as sacred as the study of Torah itself. Therefore, for the second month in a row, I find myself writing about how we make decisions about giving.

These thoughts were sparked by an article in the Jerusalem Post about the Chronicle of Philanthropy’s list of the top 50 givers in 2010.  Five of the top six are Jewish, and at least 19 of the top 53 (there were three ties) are Jewish.

While Jews have reason to be proud of the accomplishments of some of our fellow members of the tribe, we also have cause for concern.  George Soros and Michael Bloomberg, numbers 1 and 2 on the list who gave a combined total of about $600 million, less than $2 million of that went to Jewish causes.  Overall, Jews give only about 25% of their charitable gifts to Jewish causes.

While I am not arguing that 100% of our giving should go to Jewish causes, I pose a question:  If Jews do not give to UJC, the Synagogue, JNF, the Jewish Braille Institute, Israel Guide Dogs for the Blind, Hadassah Hospital, and other worthy Jewish causes, who will?  Doesn’t it make more sense for 75% of our giving to stay within the “family” rather than only 25%?  When we give to relief efforts, such as the Haitian earthquake, the 2004 Tsunami in East Asia, Hurricane Katrina, we like to channel our money through Jewish organizations.

As you are doing your taxes for 2010, take a careful look at your charitable giving.  Ask yourself whether it reflects the religious and communal priorities of your life to which you aspire.  Ask yourself whether you have paid enough attention to the institutions which nurtured and continue to nurture your Jewish identity, which take care of Jews in need all around the world.  Imagine how different our Jewish world would be if even half that the $3.3 billion given by the top 50 had gone to Jewish causes.

Welcoming Chaverim, for Developmentally Disabled Adults

Reposted from my friend and colleague Rabbi Paul Kipnes’ Blog:
rabbipaul.blogspot.com

Torah teaches, “Do not place a stumbling block before the blind.” The RiPiK, a twentieth century commentator, suggested that beyond refraining from placing blocks, we should actively remove stumbling blocks. To what might this be compared?

A story…

Even as the Director of Chaverim, a local program for developmentally disabled adults asked the question, his discomfort was evident: “How do you feel about opening your congregation to a local group for developmentally disabled adults?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” I asked.

“We’ve been to other synagogues that have opened their doors, only to feel slowly push us out, after their members became uncomfortable with the presence of our members,” he responded.

The conversation continued. “What’s the worst that might happen?” I asked.

“We have one member who can sing loudly, and sometimes off-key.” He paused, “And you might have someone read slowly, completing a communal reading after others have already finished.”

“Sounds like some of our current members.”

“However, they will usually be accompanied by the Chaverim program director or program rabbi, either of whom will help direct our members if necessary. Would you like to come by one of our events to check out the Chaverim members?”

“Why? Give me a heads up when you think there might be an issue. Make sure that in the early months you attend services only when I am leading them. That way I can witness and deal with any issues that might arise.”

So We Welcomed Chaverim
“Yes, we would love to welcome you,” I said. “Let me speak to our Board in two weeks, when I know they will openly embrace the idea and your members. We will extend to any of your members full membership at our synagogue. Two High Holy Day tickets per Chaverim member – one for the member, one for his/her driver or guest. We will make you, as Director of Chaverim, a complimentary synagogue member, so that we can give you access to our synagogue afterhours for use during your scheduled programs and classes. We ask only that your members fill out a synagogue membership form so we can get them into our system.”

“They should pay membership dues,” he said. “So that they have a sense of commitment. How much should they need to pay?”

“We won’t care. Whatever you think is appropriate. No more than $50; no less than $10. We only ask that they pay it in one lump sum, to ease the work on our bookkeeper. To make it easier, you collect the forms and information, and pass them onto my assistant, who will oversee the processing of the forms.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to meet them first?” he inquired.

“Listen, we pride ourselves on being a congregation that is open and welcoming. And we have families with developmentally disabled children and relatives. So no, I don’t need to approve them. They are Jews. Let them come home.”

Not a Mitzvah (good deed), but a Mitzvah (religious obligation)
It saddens me when I hear kvelling about how this synagogue or that is especially accessible to people with disabilities. This is no mitzvah (colloquially, a good deed); it is a mitzvah (literally, a religious obligation). It is the responsibility of every Jewish community to make Jewish life and celebration accessible to every Jew and Jewish family. We strive to remove stumbling blocks from before all Jews – including those with disabilities.

As expected, the Board discussion lasted less than five minutes. The motion to welcome Chaverim was a “no-brainer.” Our CFO and his wife volunteered to be the liaisons with the program; our Program Director was tasked with smoothing the process from the staff side. We created a new membership category called ‘Chaverim,’ though we were aware that it would be a few months before anyone would officially sign up.

The next week, we designated a few Friday nights as Shabbatot when they would officially come worship with us. As I had been informed, only a few Chaverim regulars showed up at the first services to check us out and to make sure we were welcoming. Based on guidance from the Chaverim Director, early in the service when we welcome others, I just said, “We welcome our members who are connected to Chaverim, a program for developmentally disabled adults, ages 18-88.” We did not ask them to identify themselves at that time; we let them just be Jews at services.

A Service Honoring Exceptional People
We are now close to a year into our relationship. I am told that Chaverim members have attended services regularly and appreciate NOT being singled out. They hang out at the oneg like everyone else; last week I enjoyed watching our president chatting up a few Chaverim members, just like she does ever other non-regular who shows up at services. A few read prayers in our annual Service Honoring Exceptional People (our annual “Special Needs” service); others sang along and just felt like they belonged.

All because of one 20-minute phone call, one email from the Rabbi, five minutes in a board meeting, and a few calls by the Program Director. All in the span of a month.

That, and because we took seriously the Torah teaching, “Do not put a stumbling block before the blind.” It should be that easy. Please tell us your story.

Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – February, 2011

I am reprinting this month a bulletin article written by my colleague Rabbi Richard Hammerman.  I have added a few comments at the end.

“SAVE MONEY?  JOIN A CHURCH?”

Did you ever think, even for a moment, that, “If I wasn’t Jewish, and didn’t have to belong to a synagogue, I would save so much money?” At Church you can just get away with throwing a few bills into the basket- and take care of your conscience and your weekly religious obligations. Right?  It turns out that assumption is wrong.

According to a survey by Josh Nathan-Kazis published in “The Forward” this past September, “Jewish and Christian religious institutions appear to raise about the same amount per member, despite the fact that church giving is voluntary and synagogues charge membership dues.”

Kazis continues, “The amount raised per individual member is very similar between synagogues and churches. But the level of participation is quite different: While synagogues require roughly the same amount of dues from each of their members, church giving does not appear to be so evenly distributed.

“Take Ahavath Achim, a Conservative Jewish synagogue in Atlanta, and Church of the Heavenly Rest, an Episcopal church in Manhattan. The two congregations are broadly comparable: Both serve slightly more than 1,000 middle- and upper-middle class households, have a multimillion-dollar endowment, employ about a dozen people and operate on an annual budget of $2.7 million.

“Both draw around half their income from regular fees paid by members. But, like virtually all American churches, Heavenly Rest does not charge dues. Like most synagogues, Ahavath Achim does.  At Ahavath Achim, those fees are assigned by the synagogue, with each family paying up to $2,100 per year. Annual pledges at Heavenly Rest? As much, or as little, as you can give. While only one-third of member families participate in the church’s annual pledge drive, those that do give an average of $2,700 — far more than the cost of dues at Ahavath Achim.”

***

We collect slightly less than 1/2 of our annual budget from dues.  The rest primarily comes from the sale of Scrip, the Cadillac raffle, income from renting our building, and income from endowments.  We do not want dues to be a barrier to membership.  Please help us rely less on annual dues by making it a point to buy scrip; sell one more Cadillac ticket than last year; and consider leaving a legacy gift to the Ahavas Israel endowment.  A gift of any size will help the ensure the future of our congregation.  Ultimately, a $3 million endowment might reduce dependence on dues by 50% or ensure that the building fund will always have enough money to keep or building beautiful and in good repair.