Saturday, February 13, 2021. Another cold day, but the snow is dry and fresh, patterned with animal tracks, and the creeks are gurgling under the ice. In the Great Lakes, although we are in the depth of winter, the days are lengthening, and in another month we’ll see early signs of spring. In the ancient middle east, spring was ripening. It was a time to plant chickpeas and vegetables, while the grains planted the previous month were in full growth, soaking up winter rains.
This is of course the month of Adar – the month of laughter and jokes, absurd switching of roles, the ironic and comic combined in skits and tales. The most famous of these tales is the story of Purim – the story of Esther, Queen of Shushan, who saved her fellow Jews from a murderous end, with the encouragement of her cousin Mordechai. How does Esther’s story of heroism and bravery become one of the jokester and trickster, costumes and pranks, drinking and revelry?
Maybe because the unexpected happened: the tables were turned on evil, which has not often happened in such a complete way in Jewish history, averting all disaster and allowing the Jews to see justice. Maybe because laughter is the best area of healing in the face of the absurd and contradictory. Maybe because this reversal of fortune woke up a generation to the possibility of peace and unity.
Our source Jill Hammer favors the latter – asserting that it is the “reversal of the expected” nature of Purim that makes it a necessary, universal holiday that will endure. “…Purim will never leave us. All other holidays will lose their meaning in the far-off messianic world of unity and peace, yet we will still need Purim for its silliness, its irreverence, its ability to unmask secrets and unseat self-righteous powers. Purim, like the April fool or like a jester in the divine court, awakens us through laughter and teaches us to know ourselves.”[1]
We are reminded of recent years of absurdity and phoniness, public bigotry and irrational explanations. May our ability to laugh, tell crazy stories, drink and sing endure and carry us into a year of reckoning and healing. – Kirby
The next Rosh Chodesh walking meditation, for the month of Nisan, will be Sunday morning, March 14, 7:30 am, rain or snow or shine. Contact us for location. Social distancing will be observed; please wear a mask.
[1] Jill Hammer, The Jewish Book of Days, p. 206. See “Resources” tab for more information.
Rosh Chodesh Cleveland 