Renewing Torah: Rosh Hodesh Adar II

Rosh Hodesh Adar II |ראש חודש אדר

A Blessing for the Month of Adar Bet: Who Knows?

By Rabbi Sharon Cohen Anisfeld, President of Hebrew College

The megillah that we will read later this month is a flamboyant tale of good and evil. Its characters are caricatures of human virtue and vice. Haman is the ultimate villain, Achashverosh a fool; Mordechai is an unassailable tzaddik, Esther a paragon of virtue and beauty. As children, we are captivated by the characters of the Purim story in all their unambiguous glory. We try on their personae and imagine ourselves as absolutely courageous or cowardly, beautiful or ugly, good or bad.

As adults, we (hopefully) learn to laugh at the absurdity of such absolutes.

As colorful as the Purim story is, it portrays the world in black-and-white—leaving little room for the subtleties and uncertainties of the world as we know it. Yet, a closer look at the story, and at our celebration of the holiday of Purim, reveals shades of gray that ultimately do much more to illuminate our own struggles to act with hope, courage, and moral responsibility in a complex and often terrifying world.

For me, the most important verse in the entire megillah—the verse that represents the pivotal turning point in the Purim story—comes near the end of chapter four, when Mordechai sends a message to Esther, urging her to reveal her identity to King Achashverosh and plead on behalf of the Jewish people.

Remarkably, Mordechai’s message to Esther hinges on two simple words—two words that promise nothing and change everything. “Mi yodea?” Modrechai says. “Who knows?” “Mi yodea im la'et kazot higa'at la'malchut?” “Who knows if it wasn't for just such a time that you became queen?”

Adapted from an earlier piece written for American Jewish World Service, Purim 5770.

New Spring Concert Series

Hebrew College Musicant Cohen Center for Performing Arts

Join us for three more spring concerts with artists from around the world. Light refreshments served at 6:30 p.m. followed by concerts at 7 p.m.

April 18: Until Love Pleases: Piyutim of Shir HaShirim and Pesah with Kedma
May 5: Catalan Mahzor Suite
June 6: The Rabbi’s Family Band

Special thanks to our generous event underwriters: The Rita J. and Stanley H. Kaplan Family Foundation; Suzanne Priebatsch; Susan and James Snider; The William Davidson Foundation and The Wexner Foundation.

SEVENTY FACES OF TORAH
With Water, String, and Laughter: Finding the Divine

By Rabbi Emma Kippley-Ogman `10

Parashat Pekudei (Exodus 38:21 – 40:38)

This month, the Torah has led us on a comprehensive tour of the folk art museum of ancient Israelite desert wandering, a full accounting of the physical culture of our portable sacred space in the wilderness. The prophetic readings paired with the weekly Torah readings amplify the descriptions of the richly textured but makeshift place for the Divine among us, the mishkan or Tabernacle, with the true opulence of the first Jerusalem Temple. We, in turn, bridge a 3,000-year cultural gap from the mishkan to the present time, to discern the parallel essential elements in our spiritual lives.

In the biblical text, Betzalel, the chief artisan of the mishkan, creates a bronze laver made from women’s mirrors. As far as we know, this is a simple bowl-on-pedestal sink where the ancient priests, the kohanim, would wash to prepare for their offerings. This detail of material culture might pass by us with so many others if it weren’t for the note about its materials. One midrash connects the material origins of this washbasin to the mirrors that the women used in Egypt, as they gazed playfully at their reflections, to sexually arouse their husbands in order to bring the next generation into being even in the midst of the despair of slavery.