What Can We Learn From Characters in Megillat Esther
(A pre-Purim study led by Student Rabbi Maayan Lev on March 4, 2023)
Today, Shabbat Zachor, is a reminder that Purim is just around the corner. The story of Purim is very well-known, as are the characters. It’s a fun tale befitting a whimsical holiday. But amidst all the fun, it’s important to remember the lessons that we can learn from the story.
Of the five major characters in the story (Esther, Vashti, Mordechai, Achashverosh, and Haman), each has important lessons to teach us. Today, we’ll address some of these lessons, taking our cues from prompting questions about each character.
Esther
When might we need to speak up?
What is the best method for speaking up?
As the Queen, Esther was better-positioned than most to speak up to Achashverosh about Haman’s plan, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a risk. She could easily have lost her head. She didn’t act right away. She fasted for three days, hoping to build up the proper courage.[1] The fact that it wasn’t easy for Esther to speak up makes her all the more relatable to us. And that she ultimately did speak up makes her all the more inspiring.
When people’s lives are at stake, we absolutely have a duty to speak up, not just as Jews, but as decent human beings. In smaller-scale situations, it is difficult to know when it is better to remain silent, and when to speak up. Context matters. Sometimes speaking up actually makes the situation worse. Your pleas may fall on deaf ears, and people may actually be harmed because of what you say.
If you do choose to speak up, it’s important to know your audience and figure out the best method to communicate your request. Esther brilliantly exemplifies this lesson. She knew that the way to her husband’s heart was through a feast. If her plea wasn’t communicated in the proper setting, who knows what could have happened.
Sometimes there is no perfect way to speak up, and we have no choice but to speak up anyway. But still, Esther shows that it pays off to think things through.
Vashti
How/Why can acts of virtuous defiance inspire others
long after someone has left this earth?
Queen Vashti refused her husband’s request to be the entertainment for him and his friends at a royal feast.[2] She was ordered to appear in her royal crown, and experienced the attitude towards gender shown in chapter 1. It’s reasonable to read between the lines and assume that she was ordered to wear the crown and nothing but the crown. Because of Vashti’s defiance, she lost the title of Queen (and probably her head). But her defiance still inspires us to this day. She teaches girls, women, and the rest of us alike that what we do with our own bodies should be our choice and our choice alone.
When I Think of Vashti this year, I think of Mahsa Amini, who lost her life last year in Iran (present-day Shushan) at age 22 in the fight for gender equality. On the surface, these women fought for different things. Vashti wanted her body to be covered up at the party, whereas Mahsa protested the government mandate that made women cover their hair. But in reality, their message was the same: “The government has no right to control women’s bodies” (or anyone’s body, for that matter).
Mahsa’s death at the hands of the police last year inflamed protests in Iran that were causing the government a headache. Because of her, more people in other countries were alerted to what was going on in Iran (and still is).
The verse in which Esther states at the end of chapter 4 probably reflected a mentality shared by her predecessor Vashti. Vashti likely knew the penalty for disobeying the King. But like Esther, she had her principles, and decided:
“וְכַאֲשֶׁ֥ר אָבַ֖דְתִּי אָבָֽדְתִּי” (“And if I perish, I perish.”)[3]
Vashti and Mahsa teach us that when you stand up for what’s right, even if you seem to fail in your lifetime, your impact can be felt from beyond the grave. Between the two of them, they have inspired millions.
Mordechai
What is the value of remaining optimistic even
in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds?
When Mordechai heard of Haman’s plans, he tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and ashes, and cried in public while walking through the city.[4] For him to do this, he must have thought the danger was real, and that the Jews of the Persian empire may very well be destroyed.
But when he sent a message to Esther, his attitude had seemingly changed. He said to her that the Jews would surely be saved, and that if she stayed silent, someone else would save the Jews (though Esther’s line would perish).[5]
The way I see it, one of two things happened between the beginning and end of chapter 4. Either after Mordechai’s brief moment of doubt (illustrated by his premature actions of mourning), his faith reassured him that the Jews would be saved, or he simply lied and told Esther what he thought she needed to hear.
In either case, Mordechai remained level-headed enough to envision a positive outcome. When we are in a crisis, we must always strive to envision a positive outcome. Perhaps we do not believe that the outcome we desire is likely, but we must at least entertain the possibility that all is not lost, for the moment we abandon hope, the undesired outcome usually changes from likely to certain.
I have never heard anyone suggest this before, but to me, Mordechai is all the more compelling if he was indeed lying to Esther about his faith that the Jews would be saved one way or another.
The actions of Mordechai in chapter 4 are akin to a parent reassuring their child after their home burns down. The parent tells their child that everything will be ok. In that moment, the parent is likely panicking internally, worrying about their finances and treasured possessions, and how they will be able to pick up the pieces and raise their child. Yet in that moment, the parent doesn’t want to let it show. The child needs to be reassured. We can’t always worry about the future. We can only control today. It’s important to stay positive and do what we can.
Mordechai never let his doubts prevent him from ensuring a path to victory. Indeed, Esther saved the Jews based on his advice. Mordechai teaches us that it’s ok to acknowledge the odds, but that it doesn’t mean we have to accept defeat.
Achashverosh
How do we prevent ourselves from coming “under the influence”
of immoral forces and false friends?
Achashverosh is best remembered as the drunken king, who was also quite sexist, if we’re being honest. But when trying to learn from the character Achashverosh, the biggest thing to keep in mind is that he was a puppet ruler. The real power behind the throne was Haman. Achashverosh didn’t think for himself, and let Haman control him. Perhaps he realized that Haman was evil but was too lazy and self-indulgent to care. We’ll never know. But whereas Vashti, Esther, and Mordechai ultimately insisted on speaking their minds, Achashverosh always let Haman (and eventually Esther and Mordechai) tell him what was best.
While on the one hand, it’s important to educate ourselves on the facts of what’s truly going on around us so we can have our own opinions and think for ourselves, it’s also important to surround ourselves with a support network of trustworthy and ethical people who will not only advise and support us, but also tell us when we’re wrong.
Sometimes we think that we’re surrounded by the right people, when in fact, they either don’t have our best interests at heart or give unethical advice. How can we tell friend from foe? Sometimes it’s truly hard (especially if we’ve been drinking). But sooner or later, a person’s character often reveals itself to those who know what to look for. Achashverosh either didn’t look, didn’t care, or didn’t know what to look for.
This is just one of the many reasons we should never be like Achashverosh.
Haman
How can we best correct our own prejudices?
Like Achashverosh, Haman isn’t someone we would ever want to emulate. However, his flaws were quite different from the King’s. It wasn’t that Haman couldn’t think for himself (although actually, it was his wife Zeresh’s idea to hang Mordechai).[6] Haman had very firm ideas, but those ideas were wrong. He was a clear antisemite, telling his wife and friends that his wealth, family, and proximity to power meant nothing to him as long as “Mordechai the Jew” sat at the palace gate.[7]
Haman’s phrasing clearly indicates that he is an antisemite. This shouldn’t surprise us, but it’s important to realize that Haman’s real problem was prejudice. And prejudice is difficult to cure.
Surely Haman realized he was an antisemite. He could either feed his own prejudice, acknowledge the fallacies in his thinking but do nothing to correct them, or work to better himself. Of course, he chose the first option. But what if he chose the third?
What is someone to do when they realize they are prejudiced? Sometimes, our prejudice is not our fault. We are often a product of our environment. However, that prejudice quickly becomes our fault if we do nothing to correct it.
Prejudice doesn’t disappear quickly. It takes a lot of work to change how we think. But the work becomes exponentially easier when we interact with the groups we have misconceptions about, learn about them from the horse’s mouth, and see that they are actually not so different from us. Of course, to do this takes courage. It’s not courage that everyone has, but it’s something that needs to be done.
Not all bigots plot genocides the way Haman does. Most prejudice is far more subtle. But Haman is a great example of prejudice taken to extremes (extremes that still feel very real in this day and age).
We all have the power to change ourselves. Haman chose not to.
I hope these lessons are meaningful to you this Purim, but there is so much more that can be learned from these characters. I encourage everyone to read the story again for themselves to see what other hidden lessons they can uncover.
Chag Purim samei-ach!
[1] Esther 4:16.
[2] Esther 1:10-12.
[3] Esther 4:16.
[4] Esther 4:1.
[5] Esther 4:13-14.
[6] Esther 5:14.
[7] Esther 5:10-13.