Purim, which was celebrated on Monday evening and Tuesday, is a very special holiday on the Jewish calendar. In reading the Book of Esther, Jews remember being saved from the hands of Haman. Haman was the first who wanted to kill all Jews just because one Jew, Mordechai, did something he didn't like. At the end of the story, Haman's plot is foiled. Esther, beloved queen of King Ahasuerus, reveals to her husband that Haman's plan to kill the Jews includes her as well. The king has Haman hanged and Mordechai, Esther's uncle, becomes the new prime minister. Good triumphs over evil; now we can have a party.
However, there is more going on here than remembering something which may or may not have really happened a long time ago. What we are really doing is "remembering" the end of a story which is still in progress. We are affirming that there will come a time of joy and gladness, light and honor for us and for everyone. On Purim it is a mitsvah, a religious obligation, to attain a state of awareness in which one cannot distinguish between "blessed is Mordechai" and "cursed is Haman," between cheering for the "good guys" and booing the bad. We do this because we already know that at the end of time we will all understand how there has always been only God's plan and we all have had our parts to play. Purim is supposed to be a very happy day.
But there are some moments when we wonder whether our vision of a peaceful and joyful future is real. This is one of them. It was no accident two years ago when one of our own used the holiday of Purim as an opportunity to kill Muslims at prayer in the tomb of the patriarchs and matriarchs we share. Nor was it an accident that two of the recent suicide bombings took place on buses of line 18, which is the numerical value of the Hebrew word for "life" and is the denomination we most often use in giving to charity. Finally, it was no accident that the most recent suicide bombing took place right before Purim began, with children in costume already on their way to parties.
All of this as Israelis and Palestinians grope their way toward peace. Israeli soldiers leave West Bank towns and villages, only to assume new duties at bus stops. How can it be possible for some to become so addicted to violence, so committed to hostility, so attached to hatred, that they would sacrifice economic well-being, the chance to become educated, and even their young lives in order to terrorize others into suspending a process that would provide all those things and much more? Could the Bible and all the prophets have been wrong after all? Is there only division and hatred and war? It is astounding that children, Romanian workers, tourists, random pedestrians, and innocent Palestinians should pay with their lives just so that zealots can acquire their share of some strange heaven where those who kill others in the name of God can exclude each other even in an afterlife.
"For these things I weep," wrote Jeremiah in the Book of Lamentations. Students at Dartmouth know people whose friends were killed last week. Our entire Jewish extended family mourns the loss of brothers and sisters, of Palestinian cousins, of peace-loving people who died for no real reason and in the name of no worthy cause. It hurts us to continue with our normal and privileged lives in this beautiful, snow covered place, as our relatives walk for fear of taking the bus or even stay at home for fear of crossing the street.
At times it seems like surrendering the vision, giving up on the dream of peace, is the only sanity. Yet, to imagine such a world of completely unrestrained violence is even worse. So, as we have done many times over the millennia, we will cry our tears, bury our dead, feel the frustration, and go on. Each Saturday night, as part of the service which ends the Sabbath, we recite the verse from the Book of Esther, "The Jews enjoyed light and gladness, happiness and honor" and we add, "So may it be for us." So may it be for all of us, soon. May the bloodshed end; may those who want peace speak so strongly that all will listen; may all enjoy light and gladness, happiness and honor.
