LJOY’s Moshe Merel discusses the process of letting go and finding clarity this Purim.
Ever been to Israel? You may empathise… I was once walking through a built-up area of Jerusalem on a scorching summer’s day when it suddenly started raining. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so I carried on walking, slightly puzzled, until I looked up – this was my fatal mistake.
In many older Jerusalem buildings, people clean their floors by throwing buckets of soapy water across the tiles. With no proper drainage, the dirty water simply pours off the balcony.
Someone upstairs had clearly decided it was cleaning time and within seconds, a waterfall of filthy water had come crashing down on me. And then, just to complete the experience, I was instantly baked dry by the Jerusalem sun – not something I’d recommend.
The Talmud tells a strikingly similar story. After Haman failed miserably in his attempt to wipe out the Jewish people, he was humiliated by being forced to parade the Tzadik Mordechai through the streets on the king’s horse. Watching from above, Haman’s daughter assumed the man being honoured on the horse was her father and the guy leading the horse was the rabbi, Mordechai. Acting swiftly, she poured a bucket of sewage onto the guy leading the horse. Only afterwards did she realise the truth – she’d disgraced her father and Mordechai was the one being honoured.
Purim is a very special day that’s not to be taken lightly as it carries deep meaning. On Purim, Judaism asks us to lose our minds! We loosen our grip on our own certainty and control and acknowledge something radical: we don’t run the world, G-d does. That’s why drinking wine is actually a mitzvah and is part of the day – not as an escape, but as a way of softening our rigid sense of ‘I know, I decide, I control’.
This isn’t about losing your mind in a destructive way – like Haman’s daughter who committed suicide when her illusion was shattered – it’s meant positively. Our warped cognitive skills, logic, and intelligence often get in the way of our best selves, our relationships, and our connection to G-d. Purim pushes us to step back from the idea that we always know what’s right and wrong. Judaism insists that ultimate moral clarity doesn’t belong to us alone. Hashem knows what’s good, bad, right, and wrong. We often don’t.
Purim is like Yom Kippur in reverse: instead of quiet reflection, it reveals hidden twists and reversals, but both days show that things aren’t always as they seem. On Purim, Jewish people re-accepted the Torah not out of fear, but out of love. It was active, joyful, and chosen so get active!
We love researching our past and planning our future, but by focusing on that, we run the danger of forgetting the present. Another problem is that surveys, studies, research, reforms, and theses have an unfortunate tendency to remain on paper. Papers alone would neither secure a Jewish future, nor will it bring back the good old days of jabbing your mates’ ribs to find a seat in shul. Want to see continuity? Do something yourself – something real, active, and authentic – that can be passed to the next generation as genuine love of Judaism, not lip service.
I saw a paper’s recent headlines: ‘October 7th, Heaton Park, and Bondi – what comes next?’. Anxiety building aside, Purim reminds us of a central Jewish belief: history is not random. G-d runs the show. Get to know Him… it’s worth it.
