Thursday, March 12, 2009

Purim

It strikes me that not everyone is as comfortable as I am with the idea that the Bible contains a joke book.  I'm speaking of course of the Book of Esther.  

Achashverosh has a 180 day drinking party; he decides it would be a good idea to have his gorgeous wife Vashti prance around in front of his drunken friends; and since she doesn't, he takes the advice of a nut-job advisor who says this gorgeous wife should be kicked out; he can't so much as open a can of tuna fish without his advisors; all the women that come for his beauty contest spend 6 months in this oil and six month in that oil (do you have any idea what that would do to your fingertips???); Haman ends up in several Three's Company scenes; Achashverosh keeps giving people permission to slaughter each other, and then is shocked when people die; there are some 10 drinking parties throughout the book.... it goes on and on.  It's funny, and ludicrous, and satirical, and great.

My friend Rabbi S points out, "Just because it's satirical, that doesn't mean it's not sophisticated."  Of course he's right.  There are some brilliant allusions.  My favorite is the fact that this book, which takes place during the Babylonian exile after the destruction of the First Temple, employs language that is only otherwise used with reference to the Temple - the fabrics, the utensils.... it's all an amazing flip: What if all of that glory and majesty were put in the context of silliness and drunken upside down kingdoms devoid of God's (explicit) presence.   I'm not really sure if there's anything very poignant about it, but it's kind of like a really good roast I think.  Which is enjoyable, and cathartic.  And the six months in this oil and six months in that oil - Rabbi S says that's got something to do with Ezekiel or something, and yes, that's cool too.

And there are even dead serious parts, or at least straight-forwardly meaningful parts.  Like when the Jews (as told in the Book of Esther itself!) mark this day of salvation from certain death by a holiday on which they (and we too today) give treats to friends and gifts to the poor (and parties too, of course).  That is beautiful.  And one of the most important lines in the Bible - if you ask the Talmud - appears at the end: "קיימו וקבלו היהודים - the Jews established and accepted it," which the rabbis take to refer to the free-will acceptance of the Torah by the Jews (as opposed to the not-s0-open-ended choice given to them in Exodus).  And that Mordechai is described as "דובר שלום לכל עמו - one who speaks peace to all his nation" - that is a great reason to love a guy.

So comedy and poignancy, partying and beauty, are not mutually exclusive.  The framework for a story that begins and ends and is filled in between with drinking parties is, I believe inescapably, a fun and funny book.  

Now, why I love that fact: 

GOD WANTS US TO BE HAPPY AND HAVE FUN!  (For those who don't know me, I'm not really saying I know what God wants.  Or what God is.  Or that God has human emotions like wanting.  It's a metaphor to me, and one I like very much.  Anyway, as I was saying, God wants us to have a party!)  It would be crazy to spend every day just goofing around and laughing non-stop.  Productivity and progress require a good amount of seriousness and focus.  But once a year, for a day or two, we jump full on into this most sacred part of life: senseless, relentless, selfless joy.  It's not the kind of joy that comes from looking into your newborn's eyes, or from the performance of God's commandments on a daily basis.  It's the crazy joy that feels so good precisely because it's so superficial and light.  Your whole serious life is suspended, and you get to be light.  

One of my favorite stories in the Talmud (Bavli Taanit 22a):

Rabbi B'rokah was in the market in a town called Bei Lefet, and Elijah the Prophet is hanging out with him there.  As they are walking, Rabbi B'rokah asks Elijah, "Is there anyone here in this market who is assured a place in the world to come."  Elijah replies, "Nope."  But then as they're walking along, Elijah says, "No wait - that guy over there.  He's assured a place in the world to come."  Eager to find out on what merit the man has acquired such a distinction, Rabbi B'rokah approaches him and says, "Excuse me, sir, but can you tell me what you do?"  It turns out he is a Jew who poses as a Gentile jailor, and protects the Jews who are imprisoned.  Quite a noble pursuit - risking one's life to protect one's people.  Rabbi B'rokah returns to Elijah and as they continue walking along, Elijah says, "Those two guys over there - they're also assured a place in the world to come."  Eager again to find out what noble pursuit distinguishes these two men such that they stand to receive the greatest reward imaginable, Rabbi B'rokah approaches them and asks what they do.  They reply: "We are comedians, jesters.  We go around cheering up sad people."  That, according to the Talmud, is one of the noblest pursuits there is.  

The Bible is a collection of books that have a wide variety of personalities.  The five megilot (Ecclesiastes, Esther, Ruth, Song of Songs, and Lamentations) are a particularly great group.  Angst and depression, joy and lightness, devotion and commitment, erotic love, and traumatic pain are all part of the biblical tradition, a tradition adopted as the starting point for understanding human experience.  If we cannot embrace this one - lightness, partying, fun, and satire - we are in dire straights.  
Oh man, now I wish I'd taken a picture of myself in my Purim costume to post here.  I was the color red.  It was great.  But I didn't have red shoes, so I wore black shoes, and when I said to my 5 year old friend Noam, "I'm all in red!  Head to toe!"  He looked me  up and down, and when he got to my feet he said with utmost seriousness, "No."  

PS - Menachem Mendel has a post here about Esther in the Dead Sea Scrolls.

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