Last night, after an introductory discussion, we turned our attention to two midrashim which focus on the character of Esther. In the first, the Rabbis base their discussion on Psalm 22 which they say referred to the time of Mordecai and Esther. The body of the Psalm begins with the words: My God, my God why have you forsaken me and continue with a plea for God to bring salvation. The Psalm begins with an introduction associating it with Ayelet Hashachar. The words seem to refer to the doe (ayal) of the dawn. It is unclear exactly what this means. Perhaps it was a well known melody to which this psalm was sang but the Rabbis took the words literally and said that Esther was in fact the "doe of the dawn". The implication is that God brought salvation to the people at the darkest moment, the moment of just before dawn when, according both to the Rabbis and to the popular saying, darkness is most intense. Esther, according to the midrash, is the doe who when seeks water, digs a small hole, puts her head into it and cries softly to God for water. Esther's soft cry, according to the Midrash, moved God to save the people.

This is a very complicated midrash and we spent quite a bit of time talking about it. First of all, according to Megillat Esther, God is not actively involved in the salvation of the people. God's name is not mentioned at all in the book. But the Rabbis tell us that Esther's good works only served to awaken God rather than to bring redemption on their own. There is obviously a desire by the Rabbis to read God into the story (as they do with the story of the oil burning for 8 days in the Macabee's time) rather than to allow the actions of human beings to appear sufficient for salvation.

Also of interest is the image of Esther as the quiet deer whose soft cry is her trademark. As we discussed, Esther can be seen in a number of ways. Perhaps she is the bold, daring woman who stands up firmly for what is right and takes her place with Ruth and Deborah and Miriam who are activists in their role. Or, perhaps she is to be seen as reluctant and only achieving her goal because of the continued insistance of Mordecai who keeps her on track. There is some evidence in the book to accept this image of Esther as she does seem reluctant. But, the doe still cries loudly enough to get water and Esther's actions are, it seems, sufficient, one way or the other.

The second midrash we looked at was one based on the verse in which Mordecai tells Esther that if she keeps silent at this time and doesn't tell the king of the plot, salvation would come from another source but she would die with the rest of the Jews. The Hebrew text reads im haharesh taharishi, using two forms of the verb meaning to keep silent, one the imperative and one the future. This is a common biblical usage which is usually translated: if you will "surely keep silent". But, the midrash takes the words literally and says: if you keep silent now, you will (in the future) keep silent". This, say the Rabbis refers to the fact that if Esther keeps silent now she will have nothing to say in the future when she reaches the final judgement before God because God will say to her: you have no excuse in defense of yourself in that you had the opportunity to do something good and you didn't do it".

The Rabbis are blunt but the words need to be heard by all of us. One of the messages of Megillat Esther is that when we find ourselves in the position to do something so important, we can't let the opportunity slip by because we may not have the chance again. These are chilling words but they are very powerful words which we must take to heart.

Second class

Last Tuesday evening, we had the second in our three classes on midrash related to Megillat Esther. We looked at three texts, each interesting in its own way.

In the first, the phrase in chapter 1 of the Megilla regarding the King's orders to his servants laasot kirtzon eesh vaeesh, to do according to the will of each individual is interpreted in a different direction then the p'shat, the intended meaning would indicate. Apparently, the intended meaning of the verse refers to the king's desire that all of his banquet guests be satisfied with whatever drink they wanted or more generally whatever they wanted. However the Midrash reacts to King Ahashverosh's constant habit of agreeing to the advice given by the last advisor to speak with him by having God say to the King: I can't satisfy everyone, how can you? If two ships are sitting in a harbor and one wants a north wind and one a south, they can't both be happy with the same wind. Thus, if I can't satisfy everyone, you can't continue to try to make everyone happy. The Midrash then plays on the words: eesh va'eesh translated as every man but literally meaning: "man and man" and says: two men will come to you and you will not be able to satisfy both of them. One you will honor, the other you will have to hang.

I love this Midrash because I find that it reflects the reality of the book of Esther which places the King between the forces of good and evil and begs him not just to be pushed and pulled by one or the other but to exercise control, knowing he can't satisfy both. This is similar to the idea in Judaism that we are pulled by a yetzer hatov, a good inclination and a yetzer hara, an evil inclination and that we must exercise control: not only controlling the yetzer hara but also doing good things not just because we feel pushed into it but because we know they are right and thus taking control, as it were, of our good inclination.

There was a dissenting view voiced in the class that the King's behavior of listening to his advisors was not to be denigrated but respected rather than act brashly on his own. That is an important thing to think about but I don't think it is an either/or proposition. We do need to listen to others but, in the end, we must make our own decisions and the King never really learned that lesson throughout the story of Esther, until perhaps the very end when he hanged Haman. However, even that was suggested by Harbonnah, one of his advisors, more about that next week.

The two other midrashim dealt with two other areas. One involves Haman's words to King Ahashevorsh. When he says: THERE IS ONE people different from the others in your land, the Midrash makes a pun on the word Yeshno: There is and relates it to the word for sleeping. So, the verse becomes: The ONE (God) is asleep so let's take advantage of it. God comes back and says I'm not asleep at all. But, then the Midrash goes into another direction and says that Haman says the people should not to be allowed to live since they are constantly celebrating holidays in which they don't work and get fat and lazy and don't contribute to the good of the land. Hearing Haman's threat and denigration of the holidays, God says: I'll give them another holiday to celebrate when you, Haman, are destroyed.

This is a humorous midrash but maybe it has a grain of warningthat we should consider. How do we approach the idea of Shabbat and Holidays? Yes, we should rest, but how do we keep the observance of sacred time from turning into an excuse for laziness and how do we remember the fact that the holdiays are meant to be enjoyed with good food and wine and relaxation as times of re-creation and reaffirmation of the covenant not of a turning away from the world in deference to naps and overeating. There's nothing wrong with napping on Shabbat and holidays and food has always been an important part of the celebration. But, I wonder if the Rabbi who wrote this midrash might have felt that how these observances are kept and how they appear to others is an important aspect of our Jewish lives. We should observe the holidays according to the tradition but we have to keep ourselves from turning these observances into excuses for turning away from our role in the larger community and turning away from our responsibilities as human beings. They should make us more eager to do our part towards tikkun olam, betterment of the world.

Finally, the third midrash had to do with the concern that the Rabbis had over why Haman was promoted in the first place. He might never have had the opportunity to plan the destruction of the people if he hadn't been promoted. The Midrash answers that this is the reality: the wicked are allowed to grow stronger so that their destruction is of more impact in the world (see Psalm 92 and the Exodus story of God hardening Pharoah's heart).

But, the last line of the Midrash is interesting. The whole story is told in a parable and in the last line, a small horse who has seen a sow fattened up for eventual slaughter refuses to eat lest she be killed like the sow. Her mother tells her: it is not the eating that leads to destruction, it is idlenss." It isn't that wealthy or powerful people are destroyed just because they are wealthy or powerful but they are destroyed if they use their power or wealth in negative ways.

Perhaps that last line came courtesy of Rabbis who wanted to keep Jews from thinking that any wealth or any power was by definition a negative aspect of life. Judaism has never glorified poverty or powerlessness. Too much used callously is a negative, but it is not necessarily bad they seem to be saying, to eat what you can and gather whatever wealth you can amass as long as it is used properly. In fact, this is a challenge for all people: to seek to gain potential for influence in the world but use that influence for good not for self-glorification.

Third class

Our third class in midrashim on the book of Esther took place last evening. We studied two midrashim which are representative of the goals of the Rabbis in interpreting this story. First, there was a definite effort to bring God into the story. As there is no mention of God's name in the entire Megilla, the image is of God operating through human beings or, in the case of this Midrash, through angels. Second, the Rabbis wanted to continue the spirit of Purim by making their stories even more fanciful than usual and even funloving at times.

The text we studied featured the angel Michael, and the prophet Elijah, playing key roles in the story. Michael is viewed as following the King out to his garden after Esther had implicated Haman in the plot to kill the Jewish people. Michael increases the king's anger by tearing up plants and throwing them at him. Then, when the King returns to the palace, Michael precedes him and pushes Haman onto the bed on which Esther is lying. The king sees this and accuses Haman of attempting to assault Esther.

Then, according to the fanciful tale, Elijah assumes the guise of Harbonah, the king's servant and reminds Ahasueraus that the gallows that Haman built are still standing and could be used for Haman.

Why did the Rabbis tell this story? Perhaps they told it to emphasize that the events which appear in the book to be random were actually planned and executed by God's servants, whether human beings, or in this case, divine representatives. By bringing Michael and Elijah in to the story, they are showing further proof that God did not abandon the people during the Purim story just because the Divine Name is not mentioned.

The second midrash we studied had to do with Mordecai as "king" of the Jewish people. In addition to a lengthy discussion of the regal attributes which Mordecai shared, the midrash mentions that Mordecai was so well known and respected that his "coinage was current in the land". This seems to be a somewhat popular expression of how one knows that one is valued and one is respected in a particular place. However, the midrash also sees it as literal by pointing out that Mordecai's coin had his image on one side and Esther's on the other. It is interesting to note, however, that in another more extensive text in Midrash Rabbah, Mordecai's coin is referred to in a different way. Here a crown is one side and a sackcloth and ashes, signs of mourning are on the other.

We discussed at length the implications of such a differing text and certainly noted that our observance of Purim: with the fast of Esther taking place the day before the festivities reminds us of the danger inherent in the Purim story in addition to its joy. This is an image worth considering at length.

Finally, I referred to a last midrash, actually a story told in the Talmud about two Rabbis: Rabbah and Rabbi Zera. According to this story, Rabbah invited Rabbi Zera for the Purim Seudah, the celebratory meal on Purim day. The two became drunk and Rabbah cut Rabbi Zera's throat. THe next day, Rabbah prayed for Rabbi Zera and he was healed.

The following year, Rabbah once again invited Rabbi Zera who responded (either declining or accepting with the provision that Rabbah be more careful with knives this year) : "A miracle may not happen every time".

This fanciful story inspires so many questions it is difficult to know where to begin. But I think that the key is to focus on Rabbi Zera's answer. It is perhaps intended to be a sobering thought: that Purim and all its joy represents a moment of great triumph of good over evil and the salvation of the Jews. Perhaps his statement is meant to say that the world doesn't always work that way and that miracles don't always save us just because they did at one time. There are many examples of communities which over the years have not been saved at the last minute as was Shushan. Perhaps they lacked a Mordecai or Esther willing to stand up for the people. Perhaps the opportunity for heroism didn't present itself. Perhaps people fought as hard as they could but it wasn't enough. I think Rabbi Zera's statement is a reminder to all of us as we prepare to celebrate Purim that not every story in our tradition ends happily but that our faith, our hope, our commitment to our people, our courage and our belief in the future must continue.

Please send comments or suggestions to Rabbi Robert Dobrusin.