BS”D
Every character in Jerusalem was on the dance floor on Thursday night. Moshe had emptied out the tables of the bottom level of the bar, leaving a scant perimeter of chairs around the cramped makeshift dance floor. Stars of film, fiction, and the day-to-day shuffle mingled with the Nachlaot strange-folk (dressed in clothing only slightly stranger than what they might on normal day). While they moved to the reggae-heavy beats that the DJ sent down from the upper gallery, the three of us manning the bar handled a flow of orders, a flow of beer, and a computer controlled cash register that shorted out on us during the busiest night of the year.
From midnight until the six o’clock AM- last customer closing, the crowd’s numbers stayed steady. Every hour and a half we would be granted a fifteen minute lull, catch our breath and a quick dance of our own, and then greet the newest batch of late-night party seekers.
During one such lull, the floor condensed to a ten person circle. As the music slowed from a hop to a reggae-groove, they began a slow dance, a ragga-style conga line around the room. From the bar I noticed that the cute cowgirl who had been doing a reggae-prance since my arrival, had traded her 10 gallon hat for the golden leaves of one of the many Caesars who were drinking Goldstar as if it was ambrosia.
“Hmmm,” I thought to myself as I look her over, focused (for an admitted change) on her head gear, “she’s gone and made herself a queen.”
My brain stopped, spun a fast rewind, and replayed my last thought. Light went off in my brain as I realized that she is a Purim ideal personified.
According to Kabalistic belief, after the creation of man, it was necessary for G-d to reduce his presence in the world. To stand next to eternal glory would cripple man’s ability to exist on his own. G-d’s powers outshine the abilities of man, and required that He shrink his worldly presence so that man might have creative space. In the Purim story that appears in Megillat Esther (The Scroll of Esther- read twice on Purim), G-d’s name is famously omitted. The sages explain that this is to stress the repentance of the Jewish people of the time, something that was done independent of G-d. They continue by explaining that the Big Man appears in a clouded allusion every time the word “HaMelech”(The king appears). His role is the background, as stage crew, pulling the strings for the happy ending at the end of the story. While the newly crowned cow-queen dance around the room, it dawned on me that maybe G-d takes this backseat to allow us the chance to claim our royalty- much like Mordechai and Esther did back then in Persia.
The importance of this coronation is rooted in the controversial holy war that the Jewish people is commanded to wage against the nation of Amalek. Though many have described this as a physical war, Chassidim view it as a war of the spirit. Amalek claimed their “most wanted” status on the Jewish hit-list after they attacked the recently freed children of Israel during their desert trek. By first attacking the weak rear of the young Jewish nation, they anointed themselves as archetypal enemies. Chassidic sages expound on the Amalekite tactics and explain that the trait of Amalek is the destruction of self-esteem; knocking a free man back into slavery, turning king into pauper. To fight against Amalek, according to the Chassidim, is to fight against the instinct to belittle your fellow human being, or in some cases, yourself.
There is always a tikun though, a way to fix troubling instincts. As the great Rabbi Nachman of Breslov teaches:
“As long as the candle burns, one has the ability to fix.”
Slow Moshe’s Purim party ended at sunrise, the dawn of a new day and new opportunities. After cleaning up the sticky layer of dirt coating the bar’s floor, I stumbled through the day’s commandments. Aside from the reading of Megillat Esther, we are required to give both monetary gifts to the poor and edible gifts to friends. Throughout my efforts I was reminded of another story by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach:
Once, a rich miser was approached by a group of rabbis to donate money for a poor, soon-to-be-wed couple. He responded by offering them a single ruble. One of the rabbis eagerly accepted the meager offering, shocking his disappointed counterparts. Before the rabbi could offer an explanation, the miser returned with more money, eventually giving them all that was needed for a festive celebration. When pressed to explain, the rabbi told his peers that sometimes you just need to help a person learn to give even the tiniest bit. After that, the floodgates of good open with full force.
Though asleep on my feet for most of the day, I could feel those floodgates open and send a surge of blue blood through my veins. I had gone from being a student working late night bar shifts to being the town’s greatest benefactor. It was an intoxicating feeling of power, but one that could only result in good. Looking back on the royal cowgirl, I realized that this was Amalek’s Purim tikun. Kingship affords self-esteem. It enables belief and trust in place of skepticism and doubt, and allows us to channel our new found abilities into the lives of others. When used correctly, wealth and treasure can be the best type of double-edged sword, bequeathing a sense of importance and happiness to both the giver and receiver.
A crown for all to wear.
