Eat, Drink, and Be Merry...and Share the Wealth

BY JOSH EAGLE, YOSEF ABRAMOWITZ, and RABBI SUSAN P. FENDRICK

"They tried to kill us, we won, let's eat": so goes the world's shortest summary of Jewish holiday themes that circulated recently on the Internet. In the case of Purim, this humorous attempt to laugh at our bittersweet history is not too far off the mark.

Purim marks the escape from near-extermination of the Jews of Shushan. As recounted in the historical-tale-cum-satire, the Megillah (or Scroll) of Esther, the evil Haman—second in command to King Ahashueras—is thwarted in his attempt to kill all the Jews in the kingdom by the lovely (and Jewish) Queen Esther and her uncle Mordechai. The story, filled with substitutions, over-the-top caricatures, and reversals, ends with a celebration—which is commemorated by Jews every year through the Mardi Gras-like observance of Purim, complete with costumes, parodies, and raucous celebration.

Purim is an unusual holiday, and not just because of the abandon with which it is celebrated. It is unique among Jewish holidays because, in addition to reading the Megillah itself, the contemporary practices associated with Purim are all recorded in the biblical text as observances of the Jews of Shushan on the very first Purim, which they took upon themselves and their descendants as annual obligations:

• Feasting and merrymaking, fulfilled through the Purim se'udah or festive meal
• Mishloach manot, giving gifts of food to one another, and
• Matanot la-evyonim, giving to the poor

Giving to the poor? What a wild event...we sure know how to throw a party.

Yes, actually, we do. A Jewish party—celebrating our blessings and our joy, in our own lives or for our people—is never complete without thinking about what is still broken in the world. Think of the broken glass at a wedding, and the custom of inviting the poor to the banquet (for contemporary Jews, often honored in the breach—or, better, transformed—by a significant contribution to Mazon: A Jewish Response to Hunger). In the giddy relief and mad celebration at their survival, even the Jews of Shushan did not forget that moments of joy do not—should not—obliterate our awareness of pain and need.

Chanukah, with its gift giving (at least in North America), is often also the occasion for tzedakah contributions as well; on Passover, with its maot chittin funds for the poor, it is not uncommon for children to get "afikomen presents" as well. But Purim is the only holiday with an actual requirement to give gifts to friends and family (specifically of at least two prepared foods, to at least two different people) and to give to those in need. It is a mitzvah, a requirement, to celebrate on Purim—and in the midst of our celebration, to remember that all is not right with the world.

Some will follow the most traditional requirement to seek out two poor individuals and give to them directly. Others will make contributions to organizations assisting those in need, or working for greater social and economic equity and justice.

In his law code, the Mishneh Torah, in the section called "Laws of Giving to the Poor" (matanot la-evyonim, the same phrase that occurs on the Megillah), Maimonides states that the highest form of giving money to the poor is doing so in a way which enables those in need to move out of poverty—not merely to provide food or shelter, but to assist poor people in being able to sustain themselves and their families. Our giving choices should certainly reflect an awareness that we should not just address immediate needs, but should also give in ways which could make a real and lasting difference—even a transformative one.

(We'd like to draw your attention to one project in particular: the Purim Fund of the Jewish Fund for Justice, specifically focusing on women and poverty, helping low-income women overcome barriers to economic self-sufficiency.)

The story of Purim itself, of course, our own story of rescue and liberation, stands like the overly serious guest at a party implicitly reminding us of other peoples and groups still struggling for their own survival, for their very lives.

They tried to kill us, we won; so let's eat, drink, put on crazy costumes, make fun of all that we hold dear, go wild! And while you're letting loose and chowing down, decide what you'll do, today, to help move our world from oppression and poverty to freedom and sustenance, and (in the words of the Megillah) "from suffering to rejoicing."