The Miracle of the Maple Tree

Always remember, joy is not incidental to spiritual quest. It is vital.
–Nachman of Breslov

The Jews had light and gladness, and joy and honour.
לַיְּהוּדִים, הָיְתָה אוֹרָה וְשִׂמְחָה, וְשָׂשֹׂן, וִיקָר
–The Book of Esther 8:16

All the festivals are destined to be nullified [in the Messianic age], but the days of Purim will never cease to be observed.
–Midrash Mishlei 9:1

Today is the first day of the second month of Adar, and Purim is just around the corner.
Every year at this time, I find myself fraught and frazzled, and this year is no exception, the only difference being that, this year, I am a bit more fraught and a great deal more frazzled.

This year, my annual calculations of how many hamantashen to make so there is enough to give to all the kids and have also for Shabbat and Purim and the Shabbat after Purim AND for mishloach manot has the added complication of trying to figure out how many and when I will give some to my sons who are returning to active duty (one before Purim and one right after) so as to feed at least their unit, or maybe battalion (but that seems like a lot). The complexity arises when I factor in the necessity of not making so many that we’ll still be eating them on Erev Pesach and then have to burn the remainder. (I still have three packages of noodles and some couscous that need to be used up.)

Then there is the planning of Seudat Purim. With the boys in the army, I have no idea who will be here to eat. Will the one going in the next day feel like coming over and will the one already in be able to get out? Will the other kids want to come if the boys aren’t here? How much humus should I buy? I don’t want any of that left over either.

In any case, how much do we celebrate? Do we dress up, party hardy, dance and laugh? It’s hard to get to that frame of mind when our enemies are still at our doorstep (almost literally) and our sons and daughters are still defending us with their lives (very literally), while others are languishing in the Hamas terror dungeons. Our hearts, quite literally, are in Gaza. 

Personally, I have no problem being fraught and frazzled. It’s a thing. A problem, however, does emerge when one wants to adhere to the commandment (mitzvah) to be joyous. According to Rav Nachman of Breslov, it is not just a mitzvah to be joyous, but a GREAT mitzvah. (מצווה גדולה להיות בשמחה תמיד) What complicates things even more (what’s with these complications?), in the month of Adar, we are commanded to be even more joyful than the rest of the year. When Adar enters, our sages tell us, our joy increases. (מי שנכנס אדר מרבים בשמחה)

It’s a tall order to be joyous upon command. How is it even possible to be joyous in the midst of war, death, uncertainty? Do we put aside these worries and concerns and ignore them? Do we, really, only concentrate on how many hamentashen and humus we need?

In order to understand this dichotomy, one needs to understand exactly what the commandment is asking of us.

In Hebrew, the word for joy is Simcha. But Simcha, in this context, is one of those words that is not really translatable (even though I’ve translated it). It is not the joy you feel when you your favorite cereal goes on sale, or when you find a parking spot right in front of the post office. It’s not even the joy you feel when the cake you’ve made impresses your daughter-in-law.

Simcha, in the context of mitzvah, is the feeling you get when you perform mitzvot. It is the awareness that you have the ability to serve the Master of the Universe. It is the understanding that one has a unique relationship with HaShem, that each one of us has, within our power, the ability to do good and to change the course of the world.
It is the feeling we have when we acknowledge before Whom we stand.

What strength this can give us! What peace of mind! What happiness, knowing that we are deserving enough to serve God.

Both months of Adar and Nissan, with their respective holidays of Purim and Pesach, are bursting with the miracles of God.
Yet there is no separate mitzvah to be especially happy during Nissan.

There is a palpable difference between the two months, and the two holidays.

The miracles of Nissan transcend nature, changing it. From the first plague of blood through to the splitting of the sea, the entire world is witness to these miracles. From the youngest to the oldest, across the nations; all realize and accept the greatness of God. Even the name of the month of Nissan attests to the miracles (ness נס = miracle).

And yet, very quickly, the belief and trust in God is questioned. Soon after liberation from slavery, the Children of Israel begin to complain – they have no water, no bread, no meat. How can it be that directly after the greatest miracles of all time, almost immediately the people demand more and more proof of God’s powers?
During the entire story of the Exodus, the people are passive observers. They stand aside and let the wonders occur. The miracles are open (גלוי) – obvious.  Yet, it is very difficult to maintain the feeling of awe and gratitude over any length of time.

Adar is the name of a tree, a maple. Like the miracles of Purim, the greatness of the maple tree – its sap, the very core of its being – is ‘hidden’ (נסתר). The miracle of the sap doesn’t change nature – it is nature. Likewise, the miracles of Purim are hidden in the natural course of events. Only in retrospect, and with understanding and study, can one see the guiding hand of God throughout the story. Our salvation came, not from a change in nature, à la Pesach, but through nature.

The Jews of Shushan and beyond were obliged to play their part for the miracles of Adar to occur. They were not passive observers. They did not simply stand aside and watch the power of God. The people worked with God to bring about their own redemption.
In Pesach, the miracles were so overwhelming that we were awed, but in Purim, because we were part of the process, we were able to take pride and joy in it.

While the miracles of Pesach were stupendous, the feelings of belief they engendered were fleeting.
However, Megillat of Esther tells us: “These days of Purim will not pass from the Jews, nor the memory cease from the children.” (Esther 9:28)

There are actually two elements of the miracles that we must never forget: The first is that we will always remember that it was God’s intervention that caused our redemption during the days of the Esther and Mordecai.

The second is that divine intervention and supervision continue on to our very day. The miracles of Purim, unlike the splitting of the sea, was not a one-time occurrence. God watches over us every day and every hour. While we play our role in our affairs, in Israel and beyond, ultimately it is God who is watching over us.

The miracles of Purim live on with us.

 
This explains why the mitzvah of increased joy is incumbent on us only in Adar, and not in Nissan even though the miracles were so much more magnificent in Nissan. When Adar comes in, replete with its miracles, we should try and strengthen our simcha, do our mitzvot with extra meaning, with a higher level of concentration. We need to focus on our glorious destiny, understand our part in it, and pray with all our hearts, and with great simcha, that we be rewarded our complete redemption.

Amen.