The following is a transcript of the sermon delivered by Austin Zoot at Temple B’nei Israel in Kokomo, IN.
Purim is a rabbi’s dream holiday for giving in a sermon. It seems like every year, the values of Shushan can be applied to the world around us. This year is no exception.
The story of Purim starts with a man, Haman, who, as advisor to the king, wishes that every man bow before him. When a Jew, Mordechai, refuses to do so, Haman becomes furious. Rather than taking his anger out on the individual, though, Haman decides that it should be all Jews who are killed. He plans to destroy all Jews, because of his qualms with one he didn’t like.
When Hama approaches the king to tell him of his plan to destroy the Jews, he doesn’t identify the Jews by name. Instead, he tells the king that there is “a people” living in the kingdom who are different, who have their own customs and rules. He claims that they are responsible for the ills of the kingdom, that they are the problem that keeps the country from greatness. The King, knowing little about the “enemy” tells Haman to do as he sees fit, giving him keys to do as he wishes. This is a classic case of scapegoating. We see it in Shushan, we see it in Medieval Spain, we see it in Holocaust Germany. In every case, it was the Jews who were blamed for the problems of the entire country.
Well, that faceless enemy receives a face when the king discovers that Mordechai the Jew had once saved his life. Through an interaction that showed the honor and bravery of the Jews, the king was able to have an example to offset all the stereotypes, to have experience that would later call into question the detail-deficient claims of hatred that Haman levied against them.
Well, the one thing Haman hadn’t counted on was a Jew who had found some power. Esther, the queen, who had used her beauty and her bravery to gain some standing in the court of the king, was able to stand up for herself and for her people. She revealed her identity to the king in order to show that the faceless people Haman hoped to destroy. She was willing to stand up and risk her own safety, her own ability to pass, in exchange for standing up for those who didn’t have the same opportunity.
Listening to the story of Purim this year, it rings true in the political landscape of America. We live in an America where a leader attempts to convince us that it is because of “others” that things are bad. Immigrants from Mexico and Muslim countries are the problem, and that without them, our lives would be so much better. Well, the truth is, if we got rid of Mexicans and Muslims, the problems would still be here. Instead of trying to find solutions, we have found ourselves finding scapegoats.
In our country, we are more siloed than ever. Social media certainly doesn’t help. We spend so much of our lives talking to people who look like us, sound like us, act like us. We lose sight of the diversity in the world because we are so able to find communities that match our own identity. This leads us to have far less contact with the “others” that we are sold to believe are the cause for the problems we face. Yet, we know what it feels like to meet someone of another identity and learn that they don’t fit into the boxes we’ve established for them. We meet an individual who doesn’t match the stereotype, and we are forced to confront the fact that maybe we don’t fully understand this other, that maybe there is more to other people than their religion or their culture of origin.
Having been in this position time and time again, Jews have a moral obligation to stand up for scapegoats, both those we know and those we don’t. Many (not all, but many) Jews have the ability to “pass” as white, to choose whether or not to display our identity. We have an obligation to ensure that America does not become Shushan, that we do not allow the “other” to become a scapegoat for the problems that we are too lazy or too distracted to actually confront head on.
In that regard, we have three role models in the Purim story.
We must be like Esther, who used her little bit of power to stand up for others. She refused to sit idly by and watch as her people were destroyed. She used her voice to defend those who had no voice of their own.
We must be like Mordechai, and be good emissaries to the rest of the world. Mordechai was able to represent the best of Judaism, and serve as an example, showing the rest of the world the good things that Jews can do. By living ethical, moral lives, we can become examples of what it means for Jews to be productive and cherished members of society.
And, most underrated in the Purim story, sometimes we need to embody King Achashverosh. You see, when the king discovered the plot that had been created behind his back, he was able to learn, to broaden his understanding of those living around him, and to allow the space for the society to expand to include others. It would have been simple for the king to ignore what was going on, to hide behind the bureaucratic process. But instead, he acknowledged he didn’t know something before, and demonstrated a willingness to change his behavior when he had learned more. We have the same chance. As we continue to learn more about the people around us, we have the chance to adapt, and to expand the way we think.
Everyone’s favorite fun-fact about Purim is that God’s name doesn’t appear anywhere in the Megillah, the story of Purim. The entire story happens without any divine intervention or involvement. The symbolism is quite beautiful. It would be easy to sit back and wait for God to swoop in and fix the world, to take the ownership away from us. But that isn’t how it works. Instead, it is on us to make sure that we are preventing the kind of scapegoating and blame that threatens our society. If we wait until someone else will save us, someone else will stand up for others, it may never happen.
May we stand up for others like Queen Esther. May we be good representations of our own people like Mordechai. And may we continue to change and grow as we learn more and know more like King Achashverosh.
Chag Purim Sameach. Happy Purim.