Skip to main content

Thought for the Day: Purim Finishes What Yom Kippur Starts

I was once asked (the asker meant the question entirely rhetorically): Why do I need to fear HaShem? I should just love Him. The asker's claim, based on his own reason and reputable sources, was that fear of HaShem is a "lower level" than love. His thought was to just skip the lower level (which he felt was beneath him) and go straight for love. Being a teenager, he was completely impervious to the argument that older and wiser people than himself had contemplated this issue for centuries and had come to the conclusion that fear is a prerequisite for love. Being that ignorance is easier to overcome than arrogance, I appreciated the argument, but did not have the tools to articulate why.

First a bit of a puzzle from Chazal:  What is the greatness יום הכיפורים/Yom HaKippurim (Yom Kippur on the Hallmark calendar)?  It is a יום כ-פורים -- a day like Purim!  At first (and second and third...) glance, there could not be any two holidays more different in nature and intent than יום הכיפורים and פורים; right? יום הכיפורים is a fast day of serious (to just this side of depressing) self-introspection and crying over our failings. פורים, on the other hand, is a day of feasting and drinking (to the point of being drunk enough to have difficulty in distinguishing between Mordechai and Haman) and partying with our friends.  The only crying on פורים is when we slurringly tell our friends how much we love them!

Next mix in a seemingly logical and rational approach to modern dating in the non-Orthodox world.  Living together without benefit of clergy has become increasingly the norm. Ask them, and they will say it is because, "We love each other. What difference does a piece of paper make?" Gosh that sounds logical. What could be wrong.

Everything. Living together without the acceptance of an externally defined set of obligations is nothing but playing house for self-gratification. Of course a piece of paper doesn't make a marriage any more than a piece of paper makes a sale. Would you by a car without getting a receipt? Nope. 'Cause you need more paper? Nope; because of what that piece of paper represents: commitment. Commitment from both parties that they are committed to this deal and agree to be bound by externally defined rules that defines said commitment.

At Har Sinai, HaShem did not say that would should follow His rules and then we'll get a nice plum; nor did we agree to such an arrangement. HaShem and the Jewish nation agreed to be committed to one another for all of eternity. No matter what we do, we can't break that commitment. That's why we have a יום הכיפורים every year that is hard work. Just as in any marriage, partners make mistakes. Sometimes big ones. The mistakes need to be admitted, root causes discovered, real change implemented, and a renewed commitment to the future. That sentence, of course, is also the definition of תשובה and the raison d'être for our annual יום הכיפורים.

While such an experience on a periodic basis is core to any good marriage, it's only part of the equation; and a small part, at that. The partners in a good marriage celebrate together because that's how they really express their love for one another. How do you know that it is because of real love and not simple self gratification? Those serious sessions of introspection, crying over failings, and commitment to improvement. The celebrations in a good marriage are because of the hard work and those times of crying, not in spite of them.

פורים and יום הכיפורים are two aspects of one relationship; they are both expressions of love. Which is a great expression of the true feelings? Obviously פורים! When both are celebrated and commemorated properly therefore, we experience what Chazal told us we can achieve: What is the greatness יום הכיפורים?  It is a יום כ-פורים -- a day like Purim!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Thought for the Day: Pizza, Uncrustables, and Stuff -- What Bracha?

Many years ago (in fact, more than two decades ago), I called R' Fuerst from my desk at work as I sat down to lunch.  I had a piece of (quite delicious) homemade pizza for lunch.  I nearly always eat at my desk as I am working (or writing TftD...), so my lunch at work cannot in any way be considered as sitting down to a formal meal; aka קביעת סעודה.  That being the case, I wasn't sure whether to wash, say ha'motzi, and bentch; or was the pizza downgraded to a m'zonos.  He told if it was a snack, then it's m'zonos; if a meal the ha'motzi.  Which what I have always done since then.  I recently found out how/why that works. The Shulchan Aruch, 168:17 discusses פשטיד''א, which is describes as a baked dough with meat or fish or cheese.  In other words: pizza.  Note: while the dough doesn't not need to be baked together with the meat/fish/cheese, it is  required that they dough was baked with the intention of making this concoction. ...

Thought for the Day: Yetzer HaRa -- Spiritual Force of Tuma vs Physical Ta'avos

In any project planning, there are two basic approaches: top down and bottom up.  Top down starts with describing what you want done at the highest level that seems reasonable.  You then break that down into a list of things that are smaller in scope (they only accomplish part of the job) and are therefore easier to actually accomplish.  That process can is then repeated with each sub-project.  Each iteration produces a new set of smaller projects.  For any of the projects, the level above provides the "why" for the project of interest, and the projects below provide the "how" for the current project.  Bottom up starts, as it's name suggests, from the lowest level -- here is stuff I know I can do, and proceeds by asking "what can I do by putting this stuff together?" For example, I have a project to slake my thirst.  Top down would start by a requirement to get a cool drink into a container from which I can drink.  That breaks down into: (1) fin...

Thought for the Day: Why Halacha Has "b'di'avad"

There was this Jew who knew every "b'di'avad" (aka, "Biddy Eved", the old spinster librarian) in the book.  When ever he was called on something, his reply was invariably, "biddy eved, it's fine".  When he finally left this world and was welcomed to Olam Haba, he was shown to a little, damp closet with a bare 40W bulb hanging from the ceiling.  He couldn't believe his eyes and said in astonishment, "This is Olam Haba!?!"  "Yes, Reb Biddy Eved,  for you this is Olam Haba." b'di'avad gets used like that; f you don't feel like doing something the best way, do it the next (or less) best way.  But Chazal tell us that "kol ha'omer HaShem vatran, m'vater al chayav" -- anyone who thinks HaShem gives partial credit is fooling himself to death (free translation.  Ok, really, really free translation; but its still true).  HaShem created us and this entire reality for one and only one purpose: for use...