D'var for Purim: The Hidden Work

Purim is a tale of marginalization, attempted genocide, redemption, and salvation.  Good triumphs over evil; the queen, her cousin, and their people survive, and the villain gets his just desserts (and I’m not referring to hamantaschen).

Purim is actually a Persian word, and refers to the lots that were cast by Haman to decide when to issue his decree to annihilate the Jews. In addition, the entire Book of Esther, from which we derive the holiday of Purim, never once mentions G!d. It is the only book in our Torah which does not contain a name of, or give the slightest reference to, G!d. Even the name of Esther comes from the Hebrew word nistar, which means “hidden,” or “I will hide.”  Why the hiddenness? Why is this a story wrapped in a disguise, hidden behind a costume, concealed behind a mask?

The way Jews observe Purim itself displays a deep anxiety about the elusiveness of justice in the world. On Purim, we wear costumes and masks as part of the celebration. Adults and kids, all, come to the reading of the Megillah dressed in disguise. We wear masks, deliberately confusing others about our identity. We laugh in the face of evil and spin noisemakers at the sound of Haman’s name, a temporary salve for the wounds of oppression. And we drink––by tradition, so heavily we can no longer distinguish between the words “blessed be Mordechai” and “cursed be Haman.”

On Purim, what’s right is wrong and what’s wrong is right.

One of the deepest meanings of Purim comes to us in Mordechai’s words to his niece, Esther, encouraging her to take the risk of approaching the king and acting to save the Jewish people. He says to Esther, “Who knows? Perhaps it was for this very moment you were brought into the world.” (Esther 4:14)

Tonight, I would like to make this question more personal, because these words open me to wherever this wild ride of life asks me to go, regardless of personal cost or lack of recognition.

Before this Purim story, Queen Esther was hidden and unknown. The “award” of being chosen by the king to be among his harem of women was an acknowledgment of her physical beauty––a superficial, external fact––not a recognition of her inner, hidden worth as a person. Her choice by the king to be his queen was just another sexual notch on the king’s belt. Esther was also most likely a #MeToo, having little choice in the matter and being judged totally by her outward appearance. So her recognition by the king to be added to his harem was nothing more than a superficial, external “award” which wasn’t even an award for Esther.

Yet Queen Esther did her quiet hidden work behind the scenes as only she could have done. The hidden work which went without reward and recognition, without accolades, was what put her on the world map. She did not know if her work would cost her life, much less offer her recognition. Yet she stood up for the challenge before her, in her not knowing and not being truly known, but only seen for her outward appearance.

Esther was asked, “Who knows? Perhaps it was for this very moment you were brought into the world.”

Purim shouts of masks and things hidden, and that the external isn't always as it appears to be. Accolades and recognition from the world are not spiritual fuel.

Purim screams that hidden beneath the surface of what we see is a mysterious Force of Change, a Holy Process of Transformation and Becoming that is in constant motion.

And it is to this deeper work that I am called, not to the world of the external, the world of accolades and rewards and recognition. Those who seek fame, glory, and recognition will have it here on earth.

Not that those are necessarily bad things; just that recognition and accolades are not my call and will likely not come my way. And the Purim story reminds me to not run from the hidden work, to not let the lack of awards, rewards, and recognition keep me from that to which I am called to do.

The festival of Purim shouts at me to realize and remember that we all live in the realm of Mystery. Things both are, and are not, what they appear to be.

Like Queen Esther, I am to use both not knowing and not being known to propel me forward, encourage my engagement, action, and exploration, and bolster my audacity, despite the challenge of doing so. It is not my call to work for awards and recognition; those are superficial. I am to remain faithful to the hidden, unrecognized work, even unrecognized by those who should be at least offering minimal acknowledgement and encouragement.

Purim shouts: Engage. Risk. Dance. Go for it. Act. Act despite the lack of acknowledgement, reward, encouragement, and recognition. Push beyond the limits of your own possibilities. Do it while others around you are being recognized for their achievements and accomplishments, while your efforts go unnoticed. Do it while those around you garner rewards and you do not. Do it because you must, because it is to this you have been created and called, because perhaps it was for this very moment you were brought into the world.

Just as I do not know what lies ahead, just as I may never win accolades or awards, just as others may never recognize, acknowledge, or encourage me in any way for who I am or what I do, I must not let the not knowing keep me from quietly doing what I must do.

Beneath the surface in the realm of Spirit, in that small, quiet, often-unnoticed space, that is where I must keep my focus. Always. Not on the recognitions of others.

Perhaps it was for this very reason I was brought into the world: to do the work that others cannot do, regardless of whether or not I will ever be recognized or even acknowledged.

While I watch others win recognition and awards, I must be content knowing that the work itself which I do is its own reward.

I have been called to a deeper, hidden work with a higher calling and purpose. Others may never recognize that.

Purim calls one and all to pull off the masks we wear, the accolades for which we strive, the rewards and recognitions we desire, and to look underneath all of it for the real work at hand.

Purim asks me to consider, “Who knows? Perhaps it was for this very moment I was brought into the world.”