Ish Yehudi
BY RABBI EFREM GOLDBERG
In its “Audit of Antisemitic Incidents,” the ADL recorded over 2,100 acts of assault, vandalism and harassment against Jews last year, a 12% increase from the previous year and the highest total since tracking began in 1979. An AJC survey found that 90% of Jewish Americans believe antisemitism is either somewhat or a very serious problem. Antisemitism is rising, and while we overwhelmingly claim to be concerned about it, what are we willing to do about it?
When Haman approached Achashveirosh with his diabolical, genocidal plan to exterminate the Jews, he said, “there is a nation scattered abroad and dispersed among the nations.” The Talmud (Megillah 13b) expands on this conversation.
When Haman targeted the Jews for annihilation, he said to Achashveirosh, “Let’s destroy the Jews.” Achashveirosh replied, “Not so fast. I am afraid of their G-d, lest He do to me what He did to my predecessors.” Haman relieved the King of that fear when he said, “Yeshno am echad,” which translates literally as “there is a certain nation.” The Talmud quotes Rava, who explains that Haman was telling the King something much more strategic and insightful. Not “yeshno am echad, there is a certain nation,” but rather “yoshnu am echad, there is a sleeping nation.” Said Haman, “They are negligent of mitzvot, they are divided, fighting with one another. They argue amongst themselves while remaining fast asleep to what we want to do and how we threaten them.”
We were vulnerable and literally on the brink of extinction as a people because we were asleep. Our eyes were closed to what was happening around us. We didn’t take the threats seriously and we didn’t stand up for our right to simply exist.
Haman recognized and took advantage of a nation that was sleeping. All he had to do was continue to lull the Jewish people into a false sense of security, to breed complacency and apathy, and at that moment he could accomplish his goal of ridding the world of our people.
Indeed, Rabbi Soloveitchik suggested that the true miracle of Purim is that an antisemite rose, threatened us, and we believed him. We didn’t excuse him, accept his bogus apologies, or say he didn’t really understand what he was saying. We didn’t just reject his tropes; we confronted him, took him at face value, and were determined not to let him threaten our people.
So how did we survive? What spoiled Haman’s plan? Why did we ultimately triumph over Haman so that we are here today and he is a distant memory? The answer is simple: Mordechai and Esther.
We understand Esther’s heroism. She risked everything – her life, her family, her people – to confront the king without permission. But what made Mordechai a hero? If you think about it, Mordechai might seem like a villain, responsible for initiating the decree to exterminate the Jews of Shushan and beyond.
Would it have been so terrible for him to just bow down? Just once? Not only does Mordechai refuse to bow down to Haman, he insists on antagonizing him by remaining visible on Haman’s route so that Haman would see him every day. Mordechai’s behavior provokes Haman, who responds by declaring his intention to destroy not only Mordechai but all Jews. Even after Haman’s plan has been pronounced, Mordechai continues to stand firm.
When Achashveirosh remembers what Mordechai had done to save his life and sends Haman to reward him with a public parade, Mordechai could have declined the honor. Instead, he accepts, which further infuriates Haman.
Why do we consider this person a hero of Purim? A closer look might suggest that Mordechai’s pride put the Jewish people at risk. What was the source of his intransigence?
You might think it’s simple – bowing down was idolatry, one of the three cardinal sins for which we must give up our lives rather than violate. Indeed, the Ibn Ezra suggests that Haman wore idolatrous symbols. Rashi comments that Haman had declared himself a deity. Either way, it would seem Mordechai was right not to bow down; he was simply following Jewish law while his peers were wrong for bowing, even if not doing so would mean risking their lives.
But that’s not the whole story. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 61b) says that the law of sacrificing your life rather than engaging in idolatry applies only if one truly believes in the divine nature of the idol. If one is bowing simply out of fear, one is not liable.
So why didn’t Mordechai simply bow down to save the Jewish people?
Yes, Mordechai would have been entitled to bow down. To save his life, he could have been apologetic for his Jewishness and submitted to a virulent antisemite. But Mordechai understood what was at stake.
Mordechai, a humble scholar and righteous sage, witnessed Haman’s growing antisemitism and his desire to see Jews and Judaism erased. He understood the antidote: To stand firm, to stand strong, and to stand as a proud Jew, a Torah Jew.
The answer was not to apologize for being Jewish, but rather to be the proudest and most tenacious Jew possible, and that is exactly what he did. This is how Mordechai is known in the Megillah: “Ish Yehudi haya b’Shushan ha’bira, There was a Jewish man in Shushan the capital.” What does it mean, “a Jewish man”? Was there only one? There was a large Jewish population in Shushan!
The Megillah is telling us that while there were many Jews, some were abandoning their Judaism and others were failing to stand up for it. The Jewish community was asleep; there was only one Ish Yehudi, only one unashamed, unembarrassed, unapologetic Jew.
What happens when Jews stand up for ourselves, when we call out antisemitic song lyrics, tropes, and antisemites themselves? By the end of the story, the Megillah tells us “fear of the Jews had fallen upon them and so no man could stand up against them.” Why? “Because Mordechai, the proud, unashamed, unapologetic and fearless Jew earned the respect of his multitude of brothers, sought the good of his people and spoke for the welfare of the next generation.”
One of the critical, but too often neglected, lessons of Purim is that the answer to our enemies is not to hide, apologize, or erase our Jewishness. To the contrary, it is to embrace and share our Jewish pride. When we act with confidence and pride, we gain respect. It is no coincidence that Mordechai emerged as a leader not only of the Jewish people but as a dignitary in the Persian government.
The mitzvah of Purim is to reach a point where we cannot distinguish between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.” We are very good at “blessed is Mordechai.” We look to explain, excuse, justify, and see everyone as a blessing. But we need to remember that identifying a Haman and cursing him is as important as blessing a Mordechai. We have to call out antisemites, hold them accountable, and hold those whose silence makes them accomplices accountable.
If you share concern about growing antisemitism, the question is: what will you do about it? Certainly, we have to write letters, make phone calls, attend rallies, and hold antisemites and those who fail to condemn them accountable. But there is something else we must do. I can’t help but notice that assimilation and intermarriage are at record highs, even as antisemitism is as well. Clearly, blending in entirely and erasing our differences is not only dangerously wrong theologically, it has no correlation to being safer and more secure. It is as if just when Jews try to downplay their Jewishness, our enemies will not let us forget.
We must appeal directly to the American people, carrying ourselves with pride, but also with dignity, honesty, integrity, and righteousness. If, like Mordechai, our neighbors come to know and respect us, they will be intolerant of leaders who dare promote antisemitic rhetoric or tropes. If we carry ourselves properly, those we work with, work out with, shop with, or live near will speak out and stand up to demand resolutions of condemnation and removal of voices of hate from critical committees.
This Purim, don’t just dress up like Mordechai; act like Mordechai.
Be an Ish Yehudi.
Rabbi Efrem Goldberg is the Senior Rabbi of Boca Raton Synagogue.