Purim
Winter and Spring tumble and tussle. Wildness reigns.
Your soul knows this story intimately:
the twists and turns of chance and fate, the sense of possibilities hiding everywhere, how anything can happen.
You well know the sometimes whimsical nature of life.
And your soul holds a longing for a time of justice in this torn world,
for a time of healing of land and creature, for a time of well being for all.
So on the full Moon of Adar, your soul enters into the story of Esther and lifts up her voice and sings
Under the full moon
I put on a mask and
drink flowing wine
which in time blots out
the lines
between good and evil.
Under the full moon I tell
of newly promoted Haman's rage
that Mordecai the Jew did not prostrate himself before him.
Rage of ego, rage of a man of power
where the seemingly personal insult results in a proposal for genocide:
to give to the king's coffers ten thousand talents of silver
to destroy a people: young and old, women and children, men and elders,
in one day
because,
because they are different, do things differently,
do not bow down.
Under the full moon I tell
how women of power act within a man's culture
where Vashti, the Queen says "no"
to the King's request to appear publicly for display,
but loses her throne,
where Esther, chosen for her beauty
and sexual prowess,
subtly unfolds her strength
risking life to approach the king un-summoned,
using conventional forms of wine and dining
as vehicles to prepare the ground
to speak her request,
yet shines, stands clearly,
as she metaphorically disrobes and claims herself
as Jew,
spokeswoman,
guardian of her people.
Under the full moon I tell
how an entire culture's fate hangs by gossamer threads:
by Vashti's refusal to dance nude before a drunken male court;
by Ahasueruses' sexual desire among all the women in the country, for Esther;
by Mordecai's sitting by the King's gates, overhearing the King's chamberlains plot to kill the King,
telling Esther, and thus
saving the King's life;
by the King's inability to sleep one night, ordering the book of records to be read,
the scribe happening to open to the recording of Mordecai's deed of redemption,
and the King realizing
that Mordecai's act
had not been rewarded.
Let me learn
to remove my masks,
to allow myself out of hiding.
May I work to create a world
where no people lie afraid because they are different.
May I work to create a world
where men and women, children and elders
can say 'yes' and 'no' freely,
where differences are celebrated and relished,
where no creature knows fear.
May I work to create a world
where we can better
see and
hear
Spirit
in All.
May I strive
to add my bit
in my days
to heal our world
that all might be safe in their cities and in their skins
in the light of the full moon.
In the light of the full moon.
Photography Credits:
First and third photographs: Kathy Berendt
Second photograph: Frank Dobrushken
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