Illuminating the Hidden and the Hard

Years ago, I attended a Purim party where everyone was asked to come dressed as their “opposite.” A quiet friend showed up as the life of the party, wearing a feather boa and telling jokes. Someone who was always serious came as a clown, complete with a red nose and oversized shoes. It was fun, of course, but what struck me was how quickly people stepped into their new roles—not just in costume but in character. It made me wonder: How much of who we are is shaped by the roles we play? And what parts of ourselves remain hidden, waiting for the right moment to be revealed? Purim is a holiday that invites us to explore these questions. It is a story of contradictions: joy and fear, courage and uncertainty, concealment and revelation. The Megillah famously never mentions God’s name, yet our tradition teaches that divine presence is woven throughout the story, hidden in plain sight. Esther, whose very name comes from the Hebrew root nistar, meaning “hidden,” conceals her identity until the moment she reveals her truth to save her people. Mordechai urges her: כִּי אִם־הַחֲרֵשׁ תַּחֲרִישִׁי בָּעֵת הַזֹּאת רֶוַח וְהַצָּלָה יַעֲמֹד לַיְּהוּדִים מִמָּקוֹם אַחֵר וְאַתְּ וּבֵית־אָבִיךְ תֹּאבֵדוּ וּמִי יוֹדֵעַ אִם־לְעֵת כָּזֹאת הִגַּעַת לַמַּלְכוּת׃

On the contrary, if you keep silent in this crisis, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows? Perhaps you have attained your royal position for just such a time as this. His words remind us that each of us has moments in life where we are called to step forward, even when it is uncomfortable, even when we might prefer to remain hidden. This tension between concealment and revelation—between what is known and what is not—resonates beyond Purim. It speaks to the deep work of building community and navigating the complexities of our world. And it connects directly to three powerful events happening in our community this month: Confronting Antisemitism: Building Bridges Through Constructive Conversations (March 2), Earth Hour Havdallah and Coffee House (March 22), and the next season of Wrestling with Hard Conversations about Israel and Palestine (begins March 30).

Embracing Darkness, Finding Light

On March 22, we will gather for our Earth Hour Havdallah and Coffee House, a night where we literally and figuratively turn down the lights. Earth Hour began as an environmental movement—an invitation to power down and recognize our responsibility for this planet. But in Jewish tradition, darkness is never just an absence of light; it is a space of possibility. The Talmud (Berachot 8a) teaches: לְעוֹלָם יִכָּנֵס אָדָם שְׁנֵי פְתָחִים בְּבֵית הַכְּנֶסֶת. שְׁנֵי פְתָחִים סָלְקָא דַעְתָּךְ?! אֶלָּא אֵימָא, שִׁיעוּר שְׁנֵי פְתָחִים, וְאַחַר כָּךְ יִתְפַּלֵּל.

Rav Ḥisda said: A person should always enter two doorways into the synagogue. The Gemara asks: Does it enter your mind that Rav Ḥisda meant that one should enter two doorways literally? What if a synagogue only has a single doorway? Rather, emend his statement and say that Rav Ḥisda meant that one should enter a distance of two doorways into the synagogue and then pray. In entering a distance of two doorways, one fulfills the verse: Guarding at My door posts, in the plural. Commentators suggest this means that before we reach a moment of holiness, we must take time to transition, to move from one space to another. Earth Hour is an invitation to do just that—to step out of the rush of daily life and into a different kind of awareness. When we dim the lights, when we listen to music and poetry offered by members of our own community, when we experience Havdallah together, we create space for something deeper to emerge. This moment of quiet reflection is also a powerful counterbalance to the noise of the world around us. As our Chasidic tradition teaches us, a little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness. On this night, we gather in the dark not to fear it, but to discover what it has to teach us.

Wrestling with the Hard Conversations & Confronting Antisemitism: Building Bridges

If Purim asks us to look beneath the surface of the Megillah’s story, then our Wrestling with Hard Conversations about Israel and Palestineseries invites us to do the same with the present realities of our world. In addition to these conversations, this month we will also engage in another important dialogue: Confronting Antisemitism: Building Bridges Through Constructive Conversations. As antisemitism continues to be a painful reality for many, this program is designed to create a space where we can openly address these challenges, engage in constructive dialogue, and build understanding with others. Like Esther, we are not meant to remain silent. Our tradition does not ask us to shy away from difficult truths. Rather, it asks us to engage them with open hearts and moral clarity. This is the spirit of our Wrestling with Hard Conversations series and Confronting Antisemitism programs—not to provide simple answers, but to create spaces where we can listen, learn, and challenge ourselves. Just as the Megillah is a story of reversals, where nothing is quite as it seems at first glance, so too must we be willing to approach difficult conversations with humility, acknowledging that there is always more to see and understand.

Holding Complexity, Holding Each Other

One of the gifts of Jewish life is that it does not ask us to choose between joy and struggle, between celebration and responsibility. It teaches us to hold them together. We laugh on Purim even as we remember the threats against our people. We sit in the darkness of Havdallah knowing that the brightness of Shabbat will come again. We step into challenging conversations with the trust that, even in disagreement, we remain bound to one another. This month, I invite you to lean into these tensions. Join your DJC community in celebration, in reflection, in difficult and necessary dialogue. May we continue to be a community that seeks truth, that listens deeply, and that never stops wrestling with what it means to be Jewish in this complicated world.

RIG

Please let me know what you think about today’s offering: rabbiglickman@djctoronto.com. I look forward to the conversation.