The transition from Purim to Pesach is a fascinating one, as the two holidays represent opposites in a very important way. It is true, we are encouraged to juxtapose them. This is made clear in the Gemara's question as to whether, in a leap year that gives us two months of Adar, Purim should be celebrated in the first Adar or the second Adar. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel tells us that Purim should be in the second Adar, and Rav Tevi explains that this is in order to place "one redemption in proximity to another".
But the redemptions are actually quite different from one another. While Pesach was a time of overt miracles - the ten plagues, the splitting of the sea, etc. - the redemption of Purim is marked by a total lack of overt miracles. An awareness of G-d's 'presence' in the Purim story is only achieved in a backward glance at the entire series of events.
This lack of miracles is seen as a preferable state. The Gemara in Yoma tells us, "just as the dawn is the end of the night, Esther was the end of all miracles". Whereas we usually think of miracles as 'light' -- clear indications of G-d's presence in the world -- the Gemara sees miracles as a type of darkness that Purim thankfully brings to an end.
If we only "ascend in holiness", how is it useful to move from the heights, the dawn, of Purim, to the dark night of Pesach? This question is particularly poignant in light of R' Shimon b' Gamliel's push to have these two redemptions juxtaposed. But while this juxtaposition brings the two holidays closer in terms of the number of days between Purim and Pesach, it drives them farther apart in terms of the number of days from Pesach to Purim. This is so since Nissan (the month of Pesach) is the Rosh Hashanah of months, it is month 1 and Adar is month 12.
Thus these two redemptions book-end a year that, essentially, starts with Pesach and ends with Purim. Within that span is a growth process from the miracles of Pesach to the relative independence of Purim. This is a process of growing up. The process of the year can be described as moving from dependence on miracles to a relationship to G-d that is not dependent on miracles. On Pesach, a new light enters our consciousness. At that point, the light is a total gift. We have no claim on it. It is the 'bread of shame', for we did not at all work on it. Our job is to work toward 'earning' that light - of not needing it to be miraculously given in order to be experienced. This process is accomplished throughout the year - every Shabbat, every Rosh Chodesh, every holiday does its part to help us integrate that light in the most mature possible way. Purim is the final moment in that process, when we choose to receive that light without coercion.
Thus we can understand Purim as the fruition of a light that began on Pesach. Purim is marked, as the Gemara (Shabbat 88) says, by 'kimu v'kiblu' - 'they fulfilled and received': on Purim the Jews re-received the Torah. But this time they were not coerced, as they were at Sinai. How were they coerced at Sinai? By miracles. When a person experiences the spoken word of the Living G-d, one does not have choice. But, on Purim, we desired the Torah, even without seeing miracles. We decided to become fully participatory partners in the covenant of Torah.
In this sense, Purim does not offer anything new. It merely offers us the opportunity to open a sense of the Divine as it has been a part of our lives, retrospectively. There is no outward transition on Purim - only a shift of perspective. This manifests in the discussion in the Gemara (Megillah 14a) as to why we do not say Hallel on Purim. The answer given is that, before Pesach we were slaves to Pharaoh, and we became servants of G-d. But by Purim it is not so. Before Purim we were slaves to Achashveirosh, and after Purim we are still slaves to Achashveirosh. The only thing that changed was our perspective on the situation.
Purim encourages us to develop the capacity to generate our own happiness independent of external circumstance. It begs us to go beyond the world of dichotomies, of good and bad. In fact, we are told in Gemara (Hullin 139b) that Haman appears in the Torah as the question 'HaMiN ha'etz' - '[G-d asking Adam] did you eat from the tree?' Haman is deeply related to the 'tree of knowledge of difference'. Our job is to go beyond that. We should reach a point where we experience G-d as much being slaves as we do being free. This knowledge of G-d is the very light we are given on Pesach, but at that point it is given in such a way that we are incapable of generating it on our own. By Purim, we must accomplish our ability to find G-d regardless of external circumstance.
And then we start over. A new level of G-d's involvement in our lives is introduced on Pesach. It promises to be deeper, more intimate and compelling. We are shown a new level of liberation that we are capable of achieving. But we are made to understand that, if we want to achieve this new level of liberation in a complete way, we will have to work for it. And when we have worked, we will arrive at Purim, and we will celebrate.
Rav Gavriel Goldfeder
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Rav Gavriel Goldfeder is one of the first semicha recipients of the yeshiva. A graduate of Drew University in Religious Studies, he came to Bat Ayin after stints in other yeshivot and found a spiritual and intellectual home. Here he met his wife, Ketriellah, who was a student in our short-lived Women's Yeshiva. Upon graduation, Gavriel took the position of rabbi of the Aish Kodesh Congregation in Boulder, Colorado and together with Ketriellah and their growing family, they are busy creating (in Gavriel's words), "a community infused with Torah values, passion for learning and prayer, consideration of one another, and action, as well as deep celebration of the joys of life." |