Purim 5785
Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz – Rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Sites
On Purim, in addition to all the other commandments, there is a mitzvah to get slightly intoxicated—to drink to the point of losing rational thought. This is something Jews do not do throughout the year. As our sages put it: one must drink “until he cannot distinguish between ‘Cursed is Haman’ and ‘Blessed is Mordechai.’” But why? Because Purim teaches us to expect salvation even when it defies logic and even when we may not deserve it. The entire Purim miracle was illogical, completely beyond rational comprehension.
Purim teaches us to approach prayer not in terms of “reward and punishment” but as a child who asks a father for what he lacks: “Father, I want!”—without calculations, without conditions. Just as a father gives his child what he asks for, because a small child has no one to rely on but his father.
Queen Esther arrived at the king’s palace at a time when most of the Jewish people had sinned. They had bowed to the idol and enjoyed the feast of Ahasuerus. According to the Talmud, these were the reasons they were sentenced to destruction. Mordechai was the only one who remained faithful to God. He alone stood against Haman and the idolatry Haman attributed to himself. Even his fellow sages of the Sanhedrin did not support him.
So, when Esther stood before God and prayed for the Jewish people, she had no merits to rely on. She stood before the Creator and said: We need salvation, and only You can help. You are right that we do not deserve it, but we have no one else to ask—only You.
In the Book of Psalms, there is a chapter that Esther recited when she prayed to God during Haman’s decree to destroy the Jewish people:
“My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” (Psalms 22:2).
This is a cry that comes from pain: Father! You are my father! Why have You abandoned me?
Later in the chapter, Esther pleads:
“Deliver my soul from the sword, my only one from the power of the dog. Save me from the lion’s mouth…” (Psalms 22:21–22).
The Talmud (Megillah 15b) explains that when Esther referred to Ahasuerus as a “dog,” the Divine Presence left her. She did not understand why, and she said:
Perhaps because I called him a dog? She immediately corrected herself and referred to him as a “lion,” saying: “Save me from the lion’s mouth.”
Esther realized that she had failed in her prayer, and she corrected herself immediately. This is the essential lesson that Esther teaches us about prayer.
What does a person do when a large dog approaches, threatening to attack? He tries to fight it off—picking up a stone, a stick, using his strength. If he succeeds, he continues on his way. But if he fails, he cries out: God, help me! I can’t handle this! That reaction is appropriate when facing a dog.
But what if a person suddenly sees a lion charging toward him? He does not pick up a stone or a stick. Against a lion, he has no chance. He immediately screams: God, save me! This is a lion!
Esther understood that there are situations where prayer must be pure and sincere, relying on nothing but God alone. Such a prayer is effective, even when we do not deserve it—because when we rely entirely on Him, without calculations, God does not make calculations either.
This is Esther’s gift to us on Purim: to set aside our logic and rationality, no matter what we have done or failed to do in the past. To stand before God in complete humility and ask, because He is our Father—because only He can help us!
On Purim, let us rise above logic. Let us stand before our Father in Heaven and cry out: “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”
