Efrat, Israel- The festival of Purim comes closest to being the Jewish answer to the Mardi Gras - a festival in which everyone is disguised in a special costume. Indeed, this practice is even confirmed in our halakhic code: “And the custom to dress in costume on Purim and even for a man to dress in a woman’s garb and a woman in a man’s garb is not forbidden, since the only intent is to express festive joy…” (Shulchan Aruch, Rama 696,8). What lies behind this celebration through disguises?

The fact is that the very word "persona", from which we derive the word personality, actually comes from the Latin which means mask. A famous sociologist once made the point that there are four "yous" to every human being: who you are, who you think you are, who others think you are and who you would like others to think you are. Most of us wear a mask as we face the outside world; we try to appear the way we would like others to think we are and not necessarily the way we actually are.

Our accomplice in appearing to being what we are not, are our clothes. Although many American sartorial publicists would have us believe that “clothes make the man”, the real truth is that clothes fake the man. Even every day dress may very well be a costume which hides the real persona which lurks behind a three piece suite or a very finely tailored dress. The Hebrew language expresses this truth by its usage of the word ‘begged’ for garment which is based on the root which means to betray and its usage of its Hebrew word me’il which means cloak or jacket which is based on a root which means to steal; many a wolf parades in sheep’s clothing and many an evil thought can be hid under a black hat or behind a long beard. Of course it is perfectly, and even praiseworthy, to dress in a way in which we would like to become, to attempt to change our personality to fit the kind of garb which represents the person we would like to be. Hence, it is understandable that one would wear bright colors when depressed in order to try and emerge from the depression, or to wear one’s ritual fringes out and put on an especially modest garment as a means of striving for greater religious perfection. However, in the final analysis it is crucial that the gap between who we are and who we appear to be is not too great.

To a very great extent, the essence of the Purim story is the difference between appearance and reality. The story opens with its description of a magnificent building of royal blue, purple and linen - materials which would appear to be related to the Sanctuary in the desert and then to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem; the reality however is that they are part and parcel of the palace of the Persian king, which has become a kind of substitute sanctuary for the Jews of Persia. The Jewish community itself seems to be very proud and strong; indeed the Jews are also invited to the great bash which Achashverosh makes for his citizens. The reality however is that the Jews remain extremely vulnerable to the extent that one advisor named Haman is able to enact a decree for the destruction of the entire community.

Mordechai and Esther are fascinating personalities, who are described as important Jews but who - at the same time that they seem to be leaders of their people - are also playing a game of getting ahead in the Persian oligarchy. The Hebrew name Hadassah is conveniently exchanged for the more Persian Esther (Astarete) and the name Mordechai , apparently from the Persian god Mardoch, is clearly a Persian name. (This is not very different from Jews who are named Mark or Matthew or Victoria) Mordechai apparently doesn’t dress very Jewish because Haman has to be told that he is a Jew; neither does Esther express her Judaism on her sleeve; much the opposite, she hides her Jewish ancestry from those overseeing the beauty contest and does not appear to be conflicted about living with a Persian king. In the beginning of our story, Mordechai and Esther seem to be posing very much as Persians.

The moment of truth arrives when the Jewish community is about to be destroyed, and Mordechai - refusing to bow or bend his knee before Haman, demonstrates publicly on behalf of his people. He also reminds Esther that if the Jews are destroyed she dare not fantasize that she will be saved. And that it was in order that she emerge now as a proud Jewess to save her people that she has achieved her position of power. Esther passes her test with flying colors, risking both this world and the next world by placing her life on the line for the sake of her people.

In the final analysis, the entire story of Purim is not the way it appears to be. To the superficial reader, the book appears to be a succession of coincidences which lead to the ultimate survival of the Jews. G-d never appears up front. However, with a bit of deeper insight it becomes clear that it is the Divine hand guiding history which brought about the specific confluence of events which secured our Jewish victory. Indeed, the real message of the Scroll is that coincidence is G-d’s way of letting us know that He remains in charge even if it may be anonymously.

The Talmud tells us that it is incumbent for a person to get drunk (Aramaic, besumei) on Purim until he can no longer distinguish between praising Mordechai and cursing Haman. The Meiri notes that in Hebrew the word bosem means fragrant perfume. Since our truest personality comes out under the influence of inebriating beverages, it is only if sweet and fragrant words of Torah and praise to G-d will emanate from our mouths when we drink, that we are allowed to drink. From this perspective, Purim is a test. Are we really what we appear to be, or who we would like to be? If not, you may dress in the manner in which you would like others to perceive you but you better not drink.

Shabbat Shalom