As we’re leading up to Purim next Saturday night and Sunday, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how certain parts of our world feel a lot like Shushan - a place where there were those that wanted to harm Jews. The Purim story is one we read where that doesn’t end up happening; the Jews overturn the plan, hold Haman accountable, and end up not only defending themselves but proactively getting rid of their enemies.
Many scholars believe the entire book of Esther to be a satire. Written in a time when Jews had almost no political or societal power, the entire story is a fantasy. What would it look like to live in a time when a Jewish woman would be the queen? Can you even imagine that we’d turn the tables and have one of our own paraded around as a hero? Could you dream of a time when the Jews would have enough power and influence to thwart the plot of those that seek their destruction? That we’d be an autonomous people with self determination? It was all so inconceivable that it made the most fantastical, entertaining story.
There is a specific part of the Megillah that has stood out to me as I’ve thought about one element of my work. Esther has already revealed herself, Mordechai has already been celebrated, King Ahashveirosh has already granted the Jews permission to carry out destruction on their enemies. The Jews, the Megillah writes, were finally happy. And then it writes that there were non-Jews that converted to be a part of the Jewish community. They saw how good it was to be Jewish - part of the royal family, having power, being joyful and celebratory - and they wanted to be a part of it. And this just continues the satirical nature of the whole story. Jews in that time, writing this story, could not possibly imagine that there would actually be people who wanted to be a part of us. Who would ever want to join a perpetually hated people?
What a different world we live in. In the last several months, I have had more inquiries from those interested in Judaism than in any other 6-month period. Most of these are from people who are initially interested in conversion, and while I never know how many will end up living Jewish lives, I am struck by the beauty in the request itself. Behind it is a desire to align themselves with a people, a people who are hated by some. Many of these folks articulated sentiments that they had been thinking of Judaism for many years even, and in the wake of such increased antisemitism, it was time to cast their lot with our people.
I am moved beyond measure by these expressions. While there is hate and there is antisemitism, we are not living in Shushan, and this is not a satire. Even being a people that others have hated, we have such beauty to offer. I find it so profoundly beautiful that there are people that want to join us. That are willing to sacrifice certain comforts to gain what it means to be a Jew. That reach out with expressions of connection. And every time I receive one of these inquiries, I am reminded to not take for granted the precious gift that is our religious heritage.
