Purim is the nearest thing Judaism has to a carnival, falling on the fourteenth of Adar, usually in February or March. The origin of the holy day is in the book of Esther. The occasion is the famous deliverance of the Persian Jews from their Hitler-like oppressor, Haman.
It is also put into the Oral Positive Laws:
603. Positive – Deut. 25:17 remember what Amalek did to you
It was a commandment to remember what Amalek did against Israel after their exodus from Egypt.
The Amalekites ambushed the Israelites in a weakened state, when other heathen nations refused to take advantage of them.
The history of Amalek’s unprovoked attack must be passed on from one generation to the next so that the penalty would last for many generations.
In the 8th century B.C.E., the sons of Simeon in the days of Hezekiah destroyed the last remnant of that people in 1 Chron. 4:42-43.
Samuel rebuked Saul for not destroying all of them on one occasion (1 Sam. 15:1-33) and wicked Haman in the book of Esther was a descendant of Agag, the Amalekite.
Because of this, each Purim Jews read the Passage in Deut. about Agag, the Amalekite king.
604. Positive – Deut. 25:19 you shall bolt out the memory of Amalek
This was such a strong issue that Saul, the King of Israel lost his kingship for not completely wiping out Amalek.
605. Negative – Deut. 25:19 do not forget!
Jewish writings tell us that commandment number 603 warns us not to forget the wicked deeds of Amalek with one’s mouth, but his text commands that the deeds of Amalek are to be remembered with the mind.
This would serve as a warning to all who attack the Jewish people that they too would be punished.
Purim is children’s night in the house of G-d. The children sense their rights and exercise them. They carry flags and noisemakers, the traditional whirling rattles called groggers, which can make a staggering racket.
After the evening prayers the reading of the book of Esther begins, the children are poised, waiting. The reader chants through the first and second chapters and comes at last to the long-awaited sentence, ‘After these things, the king raised to power Haman the Agagite’ – but nobody hears the last two words. The name ‘Haman’ triggers off stamping, pounding, and a hurricane of groggers. The Reader waits patiently, then chants on, and soon strikes another ‘Haman.’ Bedlam breaks loose again. This continues, and since Haman is now a chief figure in the story, the noisy outburst comes pretty frequently. The children, far from getting tired or bored, warm to the work. They do it with sure mob instinct: poised silence during the reading, explosions on each ‘Haman.’ Passages occur where Haman’s name crops up several times in a very short space. It is a merciless battle between the Reader and the children. He tries to slur over the thick-falling ‘Hamans,’ they trip him every time with raucous salvos. He stumbles on to the final verse, exhausted, beaten, and all is disordered hilarity in the Synagogue.
On Purim Day the burlesque merrymaking continues. There is a very old tradition of mummery. Nowadays children dress up and enact the Purim Play at school. The note of parody invades the study halls of the pious. ‘Purim Torah’ is a form of elaborate non-sense-learning carried on to this day, a tangle of wild jokes proving absurd Laws by strict Talmudic method.
Purim is a sort of safety valve which lets loose in humor and roistering all the pent irritations and pressures of the year. It is a wonderful time.
Beyond this gaiety, it carries four religious obligations:
To Hear the Megillah (Scroll of Esther) read.
To distribute largesse to the poor.
To make a feast.
To exchange presents with neighbors and friends. This last institution is Shalakh Manos, the sending of gifts: things that can be eaten and drunk the same day.
Our forefathers made a great point of sending food on plates wrapped in cloths from house to house. Children ran the Shalakh Manos through the streets, collecting tips in sweets or wine.
The Purim feast, the Suda, began at noon and continued through the day. There was universal open house. Guest roved from one feast to the next. There was no poor Jew who was not everywhere welcome; no Jew rich or powerful enough to close his doors.
It is not wholly restorable in the United States, more is the pity. It is a long way form the lower east side of New York to the fashionable suburbs. Nor have we the overpowering sense of community that existed in the ghetto stockade. We are not a sealed-off settlement of inferior citizens, for which we can only thank Heave. But we have lost some of the leveling friendship that prevails in a state of siege.
No comments:
Post a Comment