Much has been written about the practice of indulging in wine on Purim, which is based upon the Gemara’s enigmatic comment in Masekhet Megila (7b), “A person is obligated to become inebriated on Purim until he cannot distinguish between ‘cursed is Haman’ and ‘blessed is Mordekhai’.” Generally, Chazal strongly condemn intoxication. “Excessive wine brings a person to sin, grave troubles, and financial ruin… It is a great evil to drink wine in excess” (Midrash Tanchuma, Parashat Shemini 11). Intoxication neutralizes the intellect, reducing the individual to not much more than an animal. How could the Gemara encourage and even require drinking wine on Purim to the point where it affects one’s intellectual capabilities? Even if we make the reasonable assumption that the Gemara refers to a state of mild disorientation, and not outright intoxication, the question arises as to why Chazal would encourage acting on Purim in a manner that is generally deemed abhorrent and antithetical to Torah life.
One of the reasons why the Sages condemned indulging excessively in wine is because intoxication essentially means escaping from the complex realities of life, rather than confronting them. An inebriated individual is temporarily freed from the frustrations and challenges of the world, having brought himself into a different emotional plane where his problems and worries do not exist. “The laws [of God] and the Torah are not like the joy of wine. When wine leaves one’s body, anguish enters his heart; this one departs, and the other arrives. But Torah and mitzva are [a source of] delight and joy in this world and the next” (Midrash Tanchuma, ibid.). Intoxication brings a person a fleeting sensation of joy and contentment, but that feeling soon fades and is replaced by “anguish,” by greater anxiety and distress than one had experienced before his drunken stupor. The joy of Torah and mitzvot, by contrast, the gratification achieved through investing effort in meaningful pursuits and endeavors, is everlasting. Struggling to accomplish meaningful and constructive goals results in genuine, permanent contentment, whereas escaping to inebriation has the effect of merely delaying the unavoidable confrontation with life’s challenges, thus leaving one feeling even more anxious and less fulfilled. The Sages abhorred intoxication because we are to engage the world, not escape from it; we are to responsibly confront the complexities of life and work to solve the problems that arise, rather than blithely ignore them.
And this might be precisely why the Sages required drinking (in moderation) on Purim. One of the prominent themes of the Megila and the Purim celebration is the contrast between appearance and reality, the fact that there is a lot happening beneath the surface that we cannot see. Behind the lavish, decadent feasts in Shushan, Vashti’s defiance of Achashverosh, and the ascension of a young Jewish girl to the Persian throne by virtue of her physical appearance and nothing else, there is a divine plan unfolding. We see a drunken, gluttonous king, a selfish, megalomaniacal vizier, and an innocent young girl who happened to be too attractive for her own good, but in reality they are all a reflection of the Hand of God working to rescue and protect His people. We see a world beset by crises and hardships, but behind it all there is a loving God who orchestrates and guides all the world’s events, harsh as they may seem.
One day a year, we are encouraged to escape from the reality around us, rather than confront it. On this day, we rejoice in the knowledge that there is a different reality, a truer reality – the reality that everything that happens has been willed by God and is thus to our ultimate benefit. The world and our lives are filled with problems and complexities that demand our attention and hard work, but we must remember and draw encouragement from the fact that all that happens is the manifestation of God’s will. To that end, there is one day a year when we are told to escape, rather than confront. Just as there is one day a year (“Yom Ke-PURIM”) when the kohen gadol goes beyond the curtain into the inner sanctum of the Temple, into God’s “private domain,” similarly, on Purim we go beyond the “curtain” of our earthly reality into God’s reality, as it were, the realm in which everything in the world is perfect and ideal. Throughout the rest of the year, we must carefully distinguish between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordekhai”; we are charged with the responsibility of identifying the world’s problems, the “Haman’s” that threaten us, and work toward solving them. But on Purim, we make no distinction between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordekhai.” Escaping into the blissful realm of the “kodesh ha-kodashim,” to the perspective of the Almighty, we rejoice without any concerns or worries. On Purim, the day when we remind ourselves that everything has been ordained by the will of God, everything is good – both the “Haman” and the “Mordekhai.” Like the drunkard, we have no worries. We blissfully ignore life’s challenges because we look at them from the perspective of a different sphere, from which everything is good.
As mentioned, this state of “intoxication” is required only one day a year. The rest of the time, we are to soberly and seriously struggle, confront and engage the world, in all its complexities and difficulty. But the experience of Purim reminds us of what lies beyond the “curtain,” that as cruel, harsh and unfair the world often seems, it is governed and ruled by God who wishes only for the ultimate wellbeing of mankind. It is thus the “intoxication” of Purim that injects us with the confidence and optimism we need throughout the rest of the year, and fortifies us against the threat of cynicism and negativity that might result from our day-to-day struggles and frustrations. The reminder that there is ultimately no difference between “Haman” and “Mordechai” helps us maintain perspective and confidence as we confront “Haman” in all his manifestations, and work to make a very difficult world just a little bit better.
