Mordechai: does the end justify the means?

The Purim story is a collection of unlikely events and almost irrational decisions by all parties involved in this drama. There is ample evidence of the mercurial instability of Achashveirosh and of the diabolical wickedness of Haman. What is however the most perplexing, of all of the behavior of the major participants in the story, is that of Mordechai. What impels him to publicly disobey Haman’s orders and provoke and insult him? And did he have halachic and moral justification to so endanger the Jewish community by his behavior?

There is an opinion in the Talmud that showing homage to Haman was not necessarily forbidden by Jewish law. And Mordechai had other practical options such as hiding and not appearing publicly when Haman appeared. Yet Mordechai emerges in Jewish history and tradition as a hero and an exemplary role model for his courageous defiance of Haman. He is viewed as being the one whose behavior saved the Jewish people and not as one whose behavior was an endangerment.

Rarely do we find potentially foolhardy and bravado behavior universally judged as being heroic, necessary and most praiseworthy. We do find Mordechai being mildly criticized by some of his colleagues on the Sanhedrin for deserting them in order to enter public governmental life. Yet on the main issue – the central theme of the story of Purim itself – Mordechai is essentially the hero of Purim. The Torah, in all of its books, gives no one a free pass.  Everyone’s faults and mistakes are referred to and commented upon. Yet Mordechai, in the Book of Esther, appears to us to be without blemish or error. 

Perhaps the main, practical reason for this is that ultimate success and triumph are sufficient to erase all doubts as to the wisdom of past decisions and conduct. Mordechai’s persistence, fortitude and stubbornness eventually topple Haman (he actually hangs him) and destroy him.  Mordechai’s actions strengthen and enhance the status and position of the Jewish people as a minority in the polyglot Persian Empire. 

Success always brings its own rewards. Heaven has a vote in all human activities, even if unseen and unrecognized. And there is no doubt that Heaven, so to speak, sided with Mordechai in his public stance against Haman and the idolatry and tyranny that he represented. That is the only possible explanation for the otherwise unbelievable series of events that make up the Purim story. 

The traditional view of Purim is that it was a miraculous event, even though the miracles were hidden, incremental and cumulative and not of the purely supernatural kind, as were those of the Exodus from Egypt. And Mordechai’s conduct is part of this hidden miraculous story. Heaven apparently responds favorably to sincere acts of courage and loyalty. And those were the qualities that Mordechai exhibited throughout the Purim story.

Mordechai’s actions were perhaps inscrutable and not understandable to the average onlooker. But so was, and apparently is, Heaven’s reaction. 

There is an interesting and highly volatile concept in Jewish tradition that countenances behavior which somehow contradicts accepted halachic practice. Based upon the verse that appears in Psalms:

“It is a time to take action for the sake of God; they have violated Your Torah.”

The Talmud allowed for a reinterpretation of the verse to state:

“When it is time to act for the sake of God and save the Torah and Israel then in such extreme circumstances, the Torah itself can apparently be violated.” 

This rare exception to traditional norms was invoked by Mattityahu in rebelling against the Syrian Greek oppressors and their Jewish Hellenist allies. Based on this principle, the great Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi allowed the Oral Law to be written down and disseminated as a book, though the Torah itself counseled that the Oral Law should forever remain in its oral state. 

However, this concept is very dangerous in its application, as Jewish history has shown us. Those who consistently violate or ignore halacha and tradition doom themselves to eventual assimilation and extinction. In all instances in Jewish history there have been very few times when this principle has actually been used. 

Only rare and holy people have successfully behaved in such circumstances and I believe that Mordechai must be counted in that group.  Mordechai saw that it was a time to do something for God, to save the Jewish people and to alter the course of history. As pointed out above, Heaven agreed with his decision and hence our joy in commemorating the Purim holiday. 

Purim same’ach, Rabbi Berel Wein 

Be Proud!

Speaking in shul yesterday between minchah and maariv, Rabbi Wein spoke positively about something we usually associate with the negative: pride. When it’s attached to an individual, pride can be a big problem: people who are proud are, by definition, not humble. They may crave honour and status and their pride can be at the expense of other people on whom they look with disdain. But this wasn’t the sort of pride that Rabbi Wein was talking about.

Next Shabbat’s leining begins with the mitzvah of counting the Children of Israel—but the Torah doesn’t give the usual word for counting. Instead, it says “Ki Tiso”, when you lift up the heads of those whom you are counting. Holding up one’s head is a sign of pride.

Secular Jews, Rabbi Wein continued, are rarely proud of being Jewish and, as Jews, have little sense of self-respect. This is why the Purim story offers an explanation for the gezerah, the decree of destruction that was made against the Jewish people: they joined in the six-month-long party celebrations of Acheshverosh while that king was seeking to embarrass and humiliate them. Dressed in the garb of the Kohen Gadol and serving food and drink from vessels pillaged from the Temple, he was blatantly mocking his Jewish guests—yet they came, they ate and they drank.  It was not avodah zarah (idolatry) that sealed their fate. Rather, it was their abandonment of any pretence of self-respect. They had no pride.

Rabbi Wein added that it is not a mitzvah to be proud of being Jewish. No-one commands us to do it. But it is a value, and an important one at that. Without proudly recognizing our status as Jews, we have missed the whole point of our Judaism. In short, without being proud of who and what we are, we are doomed.

Concluding with a litmus test that we can all apply in our lives, Rabbi Wein quoted an aphorism from his cheder rebbe: “If your grandparents can look at you and take pride in who you are, and if your grandchildren can look at you and take pride in you, then you know you are doing something right”.

Purim same’ach—and have a proud Purim!

Doing it the best way: Tetzaveh 5785

The Torah ordains that the olive oil used to light the perpetual menorah (the candelabra) must be the purest and best available. There is obvious logic to this requirement. Impure oil will cause the flames to stutter and flicker; it may also exude an unpleasant odor. All of this can make the task of the daily cleaning of the oil lamps difficult and unpleasant. Yet I feel that the basic underlying reason why the oil must be pure lies in the value that the Torah places on the performance of all positive things in life being done correctly, enthusiastically and with exactitude.

In 'halachic’ parlance this is called kavanah—the intent to perform a commandment properly and in the best possible way. That is the story of the pure container of oil that is the core of the miraculous story of Chanukah. The Hasmoneans could have used regular, even impure oil and still not have violated any strong ‘halachic’ stricture. Yet the idea of kavanah, of acting in the best way possible, introduces an element of special dedication and holiness into what otherwise would be a matter of routine. This is what drives the spirit of holiness and eternity that accompanies the performance of mitzvot. Thus the requirement of the Torah for the purest possible oil to fuel the holy menorah is readily understandable when kavanah is factored in.

The light of the menorah has never been dimmed over the long history of the Jewish people.  Though the menorah itself has long ago disappeared from the view of the Jewish public—it was not even present in Second Temple times—the idea of its light and influence has continued throughout Jewish life.

The flame is not a tangible item. Rather, it is a matter of spirit, not substance. It provides light, warmth and psychological support in very difficult times.  Yet its influence and support is somehow directly connected to the investment in kindling it. That is the import of the words of the rabbis in Avot that according to the effort invested, so is the reward.

 All things spiritual depend on the effort invested in creating that sense of spirit: the purer the oil, the brighter and firmer the flame. This simple yet profound message forms the heart of this week's parsha. It also forms the heart of all values and commandments that the Torah ordains for us.

 Tetzaveh speaks to all of us in a direct and personal fashion.  It encompasses all of Judaism’s goals and is, in itself the light of spirituality that illuminates our souls and lives.

 Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Surviving the threat of Amalek

This coming Shabbat is Shabbat Zachor, when we remind ourselves of the ever-present threat of Amalek and the imperative of blotting out this existential threat.  Rabbi Wein's devar Torah on this week's parasha is also posted on The Hanassi Blog, here -- but the words that we reproduce below were composed by Rabbi Wein some years ago. They are as current now as they were when he first wrote them.

The current spate of anti-Semitic media cartoons, op-eds and boycott movements serve to remind us that Amalek is alive and thriving as usual. There was a short period of time a few decades ago when many Jews were lulled into thinking that all this baseless hatred and nastiness was a thing of the past. Even the most naive among us today realize that this is unfortunately not the case. Therefore, remembering Amalek is a relatively easy commandment to fulfill today, One need only read a newspaper, listen to the radio or TV or view the internet to meet Amalek face to face, live and in person. 

How to counteract and deal with Amalek has been a continuing problem throughout Jewish history.  Apparently, no satisfactory permanent solution to the problem has ever been found. Perhaps that in itself is the basic lesson of the commandment of remembering Amalek. We must remember that the problem is unceasing and that it has remained insoluble for millennia. 

We should not be surprised or even overly discouraged by its sinister presence in our lives and world today. We must do everything possible to combat it but we should always remember that it is not given to pat solutions or wishful thinking. It is apparently part of the Jewish condition—our very terms of existence. 

The story of Purim is the story of Amalek contained, but not completely defeated or destroyed. Haman is hydra-headed and has always had disciples and followers. Haman and his sons were thwarted and hanged but that did not prove to be much of a deterrent to all the Hamans who have followed throughout history. 

 In terms of the destruction of Jews, Hitler was far more successful than was Haman, having killed six million Jews in five years of hate and terror. Yet Hitler destroyed Germany completely as well, with far more Germans than Jews being killed in that terrible and tragic war. 

 So again, one would think that the lesson of Amalek would have been learned by now. But the reality of Amalek is that it defies logic, self-interest and history and its lessons. Purim is our only hope in containing Amalek.  Purim is always hidden, unpredictable, surprising and unexpected. Yet it is also a constant in Jewish life and history. 

The survival of the Jewish people remains as the miracle of all history and that miracle is omnipresent in our current world. The existence and accomplishments of the State of Israel are offshoots of this constant and continuing miracle. Israel and its achievements give us a sense of Purim every day of the year. The miracle may not be superficially visible, but it is certainly present and alive. 

The Talmud's statement about the inability to distinguish between Haman and Mordechai is indicative of the mystery of Purim. Purim is not always what it appears to be at first glance. It is the hidden part of Purim that fascinates and confuses us. Our salvation is always unexpected and many times defies any form of human wisdom and expertise. 

Purim tells us never to despair or lose hope regarding our current difficulties and uncertain future. It is easy to fall into a funk when viewing all the difficulties that surround us. Purim preaches to us that such a dark attitude is inconsistent with Jewish faith and Torah values. That is why the rabbis stated that Purim is the only eternal holiday on the Jewish calendar. 

We will always need Purim and its message to continue to function and achieve. For without Purim present and operative, we fall into fearing that Amalek may yet, God forbid, triumph. So let us rejoice in the knowledge that Purim is here with us and all will yet be well for the nation and people of Mordechai and Esther. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

The garments of the Kohanim: more than meets the eye

 The Torah goes into great detail when it specifies precisely what a Kohen must wear when performing divine service. This is not just a matter of sartorial concern, as our member Rabbi Paul Bloom explains.

The Sacred Garments of the Kohanim: A Reflection of Divine Honor and Human Dignity

Parashat Tetzaveh shifts its focus from the intricate construction of the Mishkan to the appointment of Aharon HaKohen and his four sons as the Kohanim, the exclusive priestly family entrusted with divine service. At this time, there were only five Kohanim in the entire world, and they were given an unparalleled role of sanctity and responsibility. The Torah details their consecration, their anointment, and, most significantly, the special garments they were required to wear while serving in the Mishkan and later in the Beit HaMikdash.

The significance of the Kohanic garments is underscored by the fact that, without them, the Kohanim were not permitted to serve. Their ability to perform the sacred avodah (service) depended entirely on wearing these garments. This tradition continued for centuries, spanning both the First and Second Temples, emphasizing the enduring importance of these garments in the service of Hashem.

The Garments as Symbols of Royalty

Rabbenu Bachya provides a profound insight into the nature of these garments, referring to them as "Bigdei Malchut" (royal clothing). Just as a king's garments signify his status, the Kohanim's attire reflected their exalted role in serving Hashem. The Midrash highlights that, in addition to the crown of kingship, there was also a crown of priesthood, signifying that the Kohanim bore a regal status within Am Yisrael. This concept is echoed in Megillat Esther, where Esther adorns herself in royal attire before approaching King Achashverosh, symbolizing the power and dignity conveyed through clothing.

The Dual Role of the Kohanim

The Kohanim held a dual role in their service. On one hand, they were agents of Hashem, receiving terumot, korbanot, and other sacred offerings on behalf of the Jewish people. On the other hand, they also acted as representatives of the people, offering sacrifices and facilitating atonement. This dual identity is reflected in the Torah's description of their garments as embodying both "kavod" (honor) and "tiferet" (splendor). The Kohanim served as messengers both to Hashem and to the people, bridging the spiritual gap between them. Rav Kook, in his writings, expressed the highest privilege of being a servant of Klal Yisrael, a mission embodied by the Kohanim.

The Symbolism of the Kohen Gadol’s Garments

The Kohen Gadol wore eight special garments: four white garments shared with all Kohanim and four additional unique golden vestments—the ephod, the choshen, the me’il, and the tzitz. These garments symbolized two aspects of Hashem’s Name. The four white garments represented the ineffable, transcendent aspect of Hashem (the Tetragrammaton, which is never pronounced), while the four golden garments reflected Hashem’s revealed presence in this world. This idea captures the balance between Hashem’s hidden essence and His interaction with creation.

A Contemporary Reflection: Shabbat Garments

Though we no longer have the Beit HaMikdash, the concept of sacred garments remains relevant today through the tradition of Bigdei Shabbat—special clothing designated for honoring Shabbat. The prophet Yeshayahu (58:13) speaks of Shabbat as a day of "Oneg" (delight) and "Kavod" (honor), which Chazal interpret as including wearing dignified attire. The Shelah HaKadosh writes that, just as the Kohanim achieved atonement through their garments, so too can Jews elevate themselves spiritually through their Shabbat clothing. The dignity and honor of Shabbat attire serve as a modern-day echo of the priestly garments, emphasizing the sanctity of the day and the nobility of the Jewish people.

The Contemporary power of the Kehuna and Birchat Kohanim

While we are all anxiously are awaiting the rebuilding of the Bais Hamikdash and the reestablishment of the the Kohen Gadol with all his Begadim, we can all actively participate in the last vestige of the Kohen’s service and that is Birchat Kohanim. This blessing is recited over 500 times a year in Eretz Yisrael (only 13 times in Chutz La’aretz). While you are in Israel, you will also move us to a period of time where the majority of Jews will be in in Israel, allowing for the the Third Beit HaMikdash to be rebuilt (in a non-miraculous fashion).

The Power of Clothing and Human Dignity

Clothing is not merely a physical necessity but a reflection of human dignity. Rav Kook points out that when we recite the morning blessing "Malbish arumim" (Who clothes the naked), we are not only thanking Hashem for providing us with garments but also acknowledging the fundamental distinction between humanity and the animal kingdom. Clothing symbolizes the divine spark within us, our spiritual potential, and our unique mission in this world.

In this light, the legacy of the priestly garments extends far beyond the Beit HaMikdash. It inspires us to honor Hashem, embrace our spiritual responsibilities, and uphold the dignity of the Jewish people—both through our service and through the way we present ourselves before Him.

Carol's hamantaschen: the prune with a pedigree

 Hamantaschen (Oznei Haman) are an integral and unforgettable part of Purim for us all. They are rich in symbolism as well as calories, and we all have our favourite recipes.  For many of us, the gold standard is the hamantasch filled with poppy seeds; for others -- including our member Carol Sundick -- the authentic hamantaschen are filled with prunes.  

The prune hamantasch has a fascinating history. It was invented in 1731 by David Brandeis of Jung-Bunzlau, Bohemia. And the story runs like this: the daughter of a Christian bookbinder purchased from Brandeis powidl (plum jam) which, she claimed, had made her family ill, as her father coincidentally died a few days after eating it. The burgomaster of the city ordered the closure of Brandeis's store and imprisoned him, his wife, and son for selling poisonous food to Christians. Investigations by municipal authorities and the court of appeal in Prague revealed that the bookbinder had died of consumption and the charges were dismissed.

Brandeis wrote a scroll which he called Shir HaMa'alot l'David ("A Song of Ascents to David"), to be read on 10 Adar, accompanied by a festive meal. He was freed from prison four days before Purim after the charges against him were proven to be false, and in celebration of his release, Jews from his city celebrated with povidl or plum hamantaschen.

Carol Sundick Family’s Favorite Hamentaschen Recipe

Dough ingredients

4 c. all-purpose flour. I have always mixed 2c. white flour and 2 cups whole wheat or spelt

1 tsp. baking powder

1 c. sugar

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. baking soda

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¾ c. olive oil

3 eggs

½ c. water

Instructions

Combine first five ingredients (the ones above the line) in a bowl. Make hole in center, add eggs (unbeaten), oil, and water. Beat vigorously to blend well, then knead with fingers until smooth. Place a handful on a floured board, roll out as for pie crust with a rolling pin.

Cut in circles with glass tumbler with a diameter of about 6 cm. If the glass sticks to the dough, dip it in flour or add small amounts of  flour to the bowl of kneaded flour until it is not sticky. 

Mix the filling ingredients (which are listed below) together in a food processor. Add a tsp. of filling and bring sides of dough together to form a triangle as shown in the illustration above. Press sides well, so they don’t split open while baking (I like to brush beaten egg white on top of each hamentasch, to give it a shiny glaze). Bake at 185-190 degrees for approximately 25 minutes until light brown. Check it occasionally to make sure it is not getting too dark. Put finished hamantaschen on a cooling rack or oven rack. Enjoy!

Filling ingredients

½ kg prunes (pitted and chopped)

¼ c. chopped nuts

¼ c.toasted crumbled bread crumbs

1 Tbs. honey

1 c. raisins (chopped)

½  lemon (juice and rind)

½ c. sugar

Why should we have simcha in Adar?

In shul yesterday morning Rabbi Wein asked a great question: why should the month of Adar be greeted with the slogan mishenichnas Adar, marbim besimcha (Ta'anit 29a: "When Adar comes in,we increase simcha")? If it's because God performed miracles for us on Purim, haven't we picked the wrong month? Adar is followed immediately by the month of Nisan, when God performed far more miracles for us--and bigger ones too. Shouldn't we be told to increase our simcha (whatever this hard-to-translate word truly means) in Nisan instead?

Quoting Rabbi Tzadok HaKohen, Rabbi Wein offered us an answer. Yes, God did amazing miracles for us in Nisan, not least of which were the Splitting of the Red Sea and the single-handed destruction of what was at the time the world's most state-of-the-art army.  But what were we? Nothing but an appreciative audience, passengers if you like, while God did everything on our behalf. In the story of Purim, however, we see that God's intervention was behind the scenes, leaving us the opportunity to play a part in the turn of events that led to our salvation. 

The point is this: there is more simcha to be derived from something that we have had a hand in, because we were part of the resolution of the problem. We were participants in Purim--and participation, doing something ourselves, is the source of real simcha. Of course we were hugely grateful for the miracles of Pesach and we remember them every year. And to commemorate our participation in the Purim miracles, we have been given a festival based on participation and involvement: we have the mitzvot of mishlo'ach manot and matanot le'evyonim. 

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Those of us who are fortunate enough to have brought up children, or to have taught them, will know the empirical truth of Rabbi Wein's words. A small child will generally derive much more satisfaction from being able to do something for himself than if that same thing is done for him by an adult. And some of us are blessed with the ability to derive pleasure from doing things for ourselves even when we are no longer small children.