Purim, the Jewish Mardi Gras, when all is topsy-turvy — and we eat the bad guy’s hat
In a widely circulated internet joke, Jewish holidays are summed up like this: “They tried to kill us; they didn’t; LET’S EAT!”
This can certainly be said to apply to the madcap holiday of Purim, which begins tonight at sundown. The holiday is based upon the Book of Esther, part of both the Jewish and Christian canons. Purim is the Mardi Gras of Jewish holidays, where down is up and up is sideways and where we don’t follow normal rules of behavior on purpose.
Today’s celebration is rooted in ancient pagan and Roman carnivals that featured blow-out parties and costumed streets parades. In the medieval era, European Jewish children dressed as characters from the Book of Esther for their street parades. Costume parades (which today may also feature October’s slightly-too-small Halloween costumes) are still part of the celebration, as are “Purim carnivals” for children—homemade booths where children play games for prizes.
For this rabbi, the holiday doesn’t feel particularly religious. The entire congregation dresses in costumes, and the service is anything but serious. I’ve been known to reverse the order of the service and even to set up the chairs so that they face people as they enter the Sanctuary. We stand where we normally sit and vice-versa.
The Book of Esther is chanted in Hebrew in a special melody from the Megillah (which means “scroll”), but those gathered, especially the kids, are only listening for one thing. Every time the name of the Bad Guy of the Purim story, the wicked “Haman” is said, the congregation erupts in yells, feet stamping, boos, and the loud twirling of graegers, the Yiddish word for rattle. That particular name comes up a lot in the Book of Esther, so, the chanting feels mostly like bursts of commotion punctuated by the rabbi trying in vain to get everyone to stop yelling before the next time “He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named” is named again!
Eating Haman’s hat
Of course, after the Megillah is chanted, the costumes paraded and the traditional Purim shpiel is enacted (parodies of the Purim story), we eat traditional Purim cookies, called hamantaschen—Haman’s hats. These are three-cornered pastries, said to be the shape of “H-W-S-N-B-N’s” tri-cornered hat. My mother filled her hamantaschen with the traditional poppy seed/honey confection and fruit fillings, particularly prune, apricot and raspberry, but today, almost anything goes. I saw a recipe for “Hamentaschen with Strawberry Balsalmic and Chocolate Tahini Filling!”
Interestingly, the Book of Esther is the one book of the Bible which does not contain the name of God. God does not save the Jews; Esther and Mordechai do. God is not called upon for help, nor is God responsible for punishing the evil-doers in the story. One question often asked is whether or not the story of Purim really happened, and the answer scholars give is no. Most scholars think of Purim as a comedy or a burlesque or even a farce, but they agree that the story was invented. There are a number of theories about how and why the Jews came to write this scroll and celebrate this holiday, but that’s the subject for another column.
But then there’s that “They tried to kill us” part of this holiday—not so funny in what is largely a children’s fun-filled fete. Fact or fiction, I think Purim has had such enduring power for Jews because of its underlying message of survival. Scholars may regard Purim as a spoof, but anti-Semitism is real and is heinous, and we see a classic statement of it in the Book of Esther, chapter 3, verse 8:
Haman then said to King Ahasuerus, “There is a certain people, scattered and dispersed among the other peoples in all the provinces of your realm whose laws are different from those of any other people and who do not obey the king’s laws; and it is not in Your Majesty’s interest to tolerate them.”
There you have it: ethnic hatred for no other reason than that these “people” obey different laws than those of the king (presumably, they obey God’s laws). Purim, with all of its hilarity and our “Nyah-nyah; we beat the bad guys!” sort of swagger masks another reality. Baseless hatred of any group that is different from “us” is unacceptable, and Purim reminds us that intolerance has no place in our world. So, Jews throughout the world will enjoy our holiday tonight; we will eat, drink (yes, there’s drinking involved, too) and be merry, but we’ll also remember that intolerance is the one thing which we must never, ever tolerate
Sarah Newmark is a Gig Harbor rabbi whose work is focused on life-cycle events, teaching and pastoral counseling..
This story was originally published February 24, 2021 at 5:30 AM.