Some Purim Halacha
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Chag Purim Sameach!
Of course, Purim is a great holiday for many reasons.
1. We are reminded once again that we always win. Baruch haShem!
2. We are reminded once again that we work best together as a team. Sure, leaders are called out from among us, but victory requires unity.
3. Shiksappeal can't hold a candle to Yehudiyappeal. Sure, Mia Farrow may have snagged Woody Allen, but our girl got the Persian king. Can Annie Hall hold a candle to the winning over of a kingdom? I don't think so-- and the critics agree.
Favorite Verses from the Megillah:
"If Mordekai, before whom you have begun to fall, is a Jew, you will not get the better of him; on the contrary, your downfall before him is certain." (Zeresh, Haman's wife, to Haman, Esther 6:13)
"...the Jews resolved and took upon themselves, their descendants and all who might join them that without fail they would observe these two days..." (9:27)
"For Mordekai the Jew was second only to King Achashverosh; he was a great man among the Jews, popular with all his many countrymen. He sought the good of his people and interceded for the welfare of all their descendants." (10:3)
Personal Observations:
New treat for this year's Purim: chocolate hamentashen from Israel. I've had fruit-filled from some of the finest (and not so fine) American bakeries, but I've never seen chocolate-filled before. Needless to say-- c'est tre bon!
Of course, Purim this year coincided with Easter weekend, which meant that everywhere I went people were wishing me a Happy Easter. I could have replied, "Happy Purim to you, too," but since I'm not a jerk, I just smiled and wished them the same.
Yay for being a minority!
Personal Purim Victory Story:
This week, my order from Andy Books came in the mail. I picked up a series titled, "Halacha: Walking with G-d" by Dr. Karl Coke. The series deals with the concept of Halacha in a Biblical context. In other words, drop the religious façade, read the Bible, and live what it says. Think Torah observance as Yeshua lived it, not as the Rabbis teach it or as the Church ignores it.
For the past four years, I have become increasingly aware of the fact that as believers we often live two very separate lives. We have what my boss often calls, "work mode" where we go into our daily lives, to our jobs, interacting with other people, etc., with a certain attitude and a certain set of behaviors. This is often in complete opposition to "G-d mode" which is the pattern we fall into when we go to services, spend time with fellow believers, or even just come home after a long day out in the world.
Nowhere did the dichotomy between "work mode" and "G-d mode" become more apparent to me than in my job search. I happen to be a freelance writer who writes about Jewish things. I also happened to write about Jewish topics during my graduate studies. These works are included in my online portfolio I prepared to show potential employers. I'll never forget the day my brother basically told me that if I wanted to shop myself I should just not talk about or flash around anything that relates to being Jewish. In other words, not only should I omit the truth of who I am, I should also ditch half the work in my portfolio, lest my Jewishness become a hindrance in landing a professional career.
Whoa.
Intellectually, I understood that being Jewish was not a popular thing. But it seems like a part of me couldn't resist testing that notion in practice in the real world. I suddenly became very evasive about things when applying for jobs or going on interviews. Sometimes, I would just boil my thesis down to, "cultural studies," or neglect to pass along my business cards to people whom I thought wouldn't appreciate my writing portfolio. Suddenly, I found myself becoming very careful about expressing my Jewishness. And the more careful I became, the more frustrated I became, and the more I questioned whether or not I wanted a "career" in the "real world" after all.
The last job interview I went on was with a fairly large, well-known publishing company. The woman who interviewed me for a glorified secretarial position (think: "foot in the door, chance for bigger things" type-position) asked me what computer programs I was familiar with. Then, for some reason still unbeknownst to me, felt the need to ask me what blogs I read. (If you can tell me how my wpm count and my Internet surfing predelictions relate to one another in the context of interviewing to get someone's coffee every day, I'll give you five thousand shekels.) Taken slightly aback, I thought to myself, "Say 'Daily Kos.' NO! Don't associate yourself with those nutbags! What's a popular, mainstream blog? Uhm, uhm, she wants an answer. Oh, forget it!" before responding, "Israpundit."
"Oh, I've never heard of that one," she answered. "What news sources do you read?"
At this point, I knew the cat was out of the bag. "The Jerusalem Post," I replied, adding, "The New York Times," to soften the blow.
"Oh, you follow the news over there, then. That's a personal interest to you," the comment came with a slightly shocked expression, followed by a slightly patronizing grin and chuckle. She then proceeded to skewer me about my lack of publishing experience, and had no problem cutting me off when I answered her questions.
That night, when I got home, I made sure the link to my writing portfolio was included in my thank you email to her.
Nearly three weeks went by. The friend who referred me for the job was shocked that I hadn't heard anything, because she knew for a fact that her boss needed a new assistant, pronto. Finally, after weeks of waiting and feeling confident I wasn't going to hear anything, I got a call.
"Oh, we'd love to offer you the position. Just name your start date!"
Cool, okay. I asked some questions and when she said she'd have to obtain the answers from HR, I told her I'd call back in 24 hours with an answer.
But something shook inside of me. Later, my father and my brother would both ask me if I was excited when I got the offer, and I had to honestly respond, "No." It wasn't that this was a bad job, or a bad company. Something just didn't feel right. But, I reasoned, an offer is an offer, and after three years of working dead-end jobs and looking for the "career-position" that everyone wanted me to have, I had no right to say no.
"G-d," I prayed out loud, "I love you, and I want to do what is right by you. Please, if you want me to take this job, talk to me. I will listen and obey if it is what you want." I listened, but I didn't get any response.
So, the next day I called back. It happened to be Friday. It happened to be Shabbat. And, it happened to be Purim. My questions were answered, and I accepted the position. Then, we got to talking about the start-date. Suddenly, "name your date," turned into a patronizing lecture about how she felt no need to get with me sooner, because she was sure I would be available any time (despite knowing that I am currently employed). My date was not good enough, so she named a date. Then, in the next breath she changed her mind; the date she had stated wasn't good enough because she was travelling, so I'd just have to be in sooner.
This wouldn't have allowed me to give a full two weeks notice to my current employer. I stated as much, and she then implied that I hadn't communicated my situation clearly, saying she "thought" and she "assumed" I would be available any time, so she didn't feel the need to ask about my schedule. I asked her if I could call her back on Monday morning, to which she replied, "Well, we'll really need to know by then, because if this isn't going to work, we can't keep wasting our time. We'll have to start the process of looking all over again."
I played it cool, told her I had to make a phonecall and would call her back. Then, I hung up the phone, baffled. It made no sense. The woman who had been so sweet the day before, saying I could name my date, suddenly barked at me as if it was my fault that she neglected to ask me a fairly important question. Something wasn't kosher. But, at the same time, I felt like everyone was counting on me to get a "career" and get going with my life.
At that point, my family had arrived and was ready to celebrate Purim and Shabbat. So, I took the opportunity for a quick conference before I called this woman back. "Well, do you want the job, Sis?" my brother asked.
"Not really," I replied.
"Well then, don't take it," my brother and parents responded in unison. "Don't do something that's not going to make you happy."
It was as simple as all that. And, suddenly, it clicked. I called the woman back and politely declined the offer. She was stunned.
When I hung up the phone, the full impact of what I had just done hit me. Four years later, I had turned down a solid career offer, a chance to establish myself in the professional world. I couldn't believe myself.
That night, after everyone went home, I prayed about it and a peace I hadn't felt all week came over me. Determined to set it all aside, I made it a point to focus on HaShem, on Shabbat, and on the holiday at hand. As I praised HaShem, the peace increased and I felt a new strength grow within me.
The next day, my mother and I talked about it, and I commented that I couldn't just leave my current employer (who has been very good to me, and who also enjoys the fact that I am a Jew like him) without a full 2 weeks notice.
"No," she answered, "you couldn't do that. It wouldn't be right. And you have to do the right thing. She wanted you to do the wrong thing, and that's her problem, not yours."
Being Jewish, for me, isn't about flashing a Magen David, or claiming that I'm a Chosen One, or pushing a portfolio in people's faces. Being Jewish is about doing the right thing. How many times have we been asked to do the wrong thing when we're in "work mode"? How many times have we pushed our relationship with G-d to the backseat because we're in "work mode"? Every week, my boss's daughter comes in with her baby son to say hello, and every week, my boss says to her, "I can't stop now, I'm in work mode." The other week, the baby who just turned one, came in the door, spied his grandfather and said, "Pop pop!" He reached for my boss in excitement, something my boss would later remark, "was pretty cool."
Life isn't about "work mode." Life is about walking with our G-d. If I had conceeded to this woman's demands, I would have done the wrong thing by my current employer. And what would it have gotten me? A career? Maybe. The chance to work under someone who operates in confusion? The chance to work in a politically correct environment where conversations about my G-d, my faith, and my identity would not be considered kosher? Definitely.
We struggle so much with who we are supposed to be in this world. On the one hand, we're taught that degrees, careers and subseqent money and possessions mean nothing. Yet, on the other hand we're taught that to achieve respect and status, we are to become educated, establish a career, and earn a lot of money. Tele-preachers and megachurches today thrive on the "prosperity doctrine" of men, claiming that if you throw all your money into building funds for new stadium-like sanctuaries, G-d will rain fortune down upon you. Yet, G-d is no respector of persons. He chose fruit pickers, shepherds, and working class fishermen to teach and preach the Truth to the world. He uses the simple to confound the wise. We know all of this, yet we race to earn more status in the professional sphere so that we can earn more money which will earn us more status with those around us-- whether they are our neighbors, our peers, or even our religious leaders. And, all the while, we're sending a message to G-d that reads, "I don't have time for you now, I'm in work mode."
There is nothing wrong with having a career, or being successful at it. The motivation to achieve and succeed, however, becomes wrong when it is not motivated by the Truth of the Word of G-d. Ever since I was a child, I was instructed by teachers that since I had a brain and could get A's on tests, I was supposed to obtain a career that would make me rich. My gifted and talented peers now have myspace pages where they brag about how much money they make and all their subsequent social opportunities and chances for promotion as doctors, lawyers, politicians, you name it. You never see one of them bragging about how many people they healed, or how many innocent people they defended and saw acquitted. When I interviewed with this woman, she asked me why that particular publishing company interested me. I responded that I respected the fact that they specialized in medical publishing, and that working for a medical publisher would allow me to contribute in some small way to the betterment of the world around me. Her response was, "Oh, that's interesting. I never really thought of it that way."
In the most famous passage from the book of Esther, Mordechai warns his niece, "Don't suppose that merely because you happen to be in the royal palace you will escape any more than the other Jews. For if you fail to speak up now, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from a different direction; but you and your father's family will perish. Who knows whether you didn't come into your royal position precisely for such a time as this?" (4:12-14)
Just because you may win the world's favor, doesn't mean you'll escape their wrath when they turn on you. If you fail to do the right thing, in accordance with your covenant with G-d, G-d will still see that His promises are fulfilled. You, however, will have written yourself out of the picture. Here's your test: Are you going to do the right thing by G-d, and honor your covenant with Him, or are you going to do what the world thinks you should?
When Yeshua said no slave could serve two masters, He meant it. "Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me, and the one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him." (John 14:21)
When "work mode" overrides the one Source that should impact your decision-making process, you are losing out. You may be gaining a "good" grade, a "great" career, or a "fabulous" friend, but you are losing the opportunity to walk with G-d. You are losing the opportunity to be a part of the picture. You are losing the opportunity to have Him reveal Himself to you. So, what have you truly accomplished?
Chag Purim Sameach. And if you celebrate Easter, I don't really know what flowers and candy bunnies have to do with Messiah's rising from the dead, but have a nice time with your family-- and don't forget to spend time with the Messiah you're celebrating today. Only, I'd skip offering Him any ham. For some reason, I don't think it'd go well with the hamentaschen.
Labels: Halacha, Karl Coke, mitzvot, Purim, Torah, Yeshua
posted by Shoshana @ 10:40 AM
