What Are We Dancing About On Purim?

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah

In Megilas Esther (8:16), it states that “the Jews fulfilled and accepted upon themselves” the mitzvos of Purim. The Sages (Shabbos 88a) interpret these words as meaning that at the time of Purim, the Jews made a new acceptance of the Torah. At Mount Sinai, their acceptance of the Torah had been coerced. The Sages describe this as Hashem holding the mountain over them like a barrel, declaring that if they did not accept the Torah, this would be their place of burial. On Purim, however, they accepted the Torah out of love, not fear. Rashi (ibid.) explains that this was the love the nation felt because of the miracles Hashem had done for them at this time.

Only, many other miracles had occurred since Matan Torah. Why didn’t they inspire the Jews to accept the Torah out of love? What was so special about the miracles of Purim?

Also, what exactly did the Jews accept upon themselves? Did this acceptance only add feelings of love to the original acceptance, or did it entail some new obligation?

The Vilna Gaon (Megilas Esther 1:2) begins by explaining that the miracles of Purim are unique from those that preceded them in that they had occurred while the nation was in Exile. They had only recently been evicted from their land by Nebuchadnezzar, and they still felt the brunt of this punishment. That Hashem would do miracles for them even amidst His anger was such a powerful display of His love for them that it inspired them to want to show their love to Him as well.

The Vilna Gaon offers an analogy for this: A king was very angry at his son, the prince, for his behavior. He decided to expel him from his palace, intending that this would make him correct his ways. The prince was forced to set out to a dangerous forest. There, he was attacked by a wild animal. He tried in vain to defend himself, but out of nowhere, a group of men appeared and came to his rescue. The prince assumed that this was just a coincidence, so he thanked the men and moved on. Later, a group of people angry at the king came and attacked the prince. Again, from out of nowhere, a group of men appeared and rescued the prince. This time, he realized that this was no coincidence, but rather his father had arranged for these men to be on hand to protect him.

When the prince realized that his father was still caring for him even amidst his punishment, he felt a greater love for his father than ever before. So, too, when the Jews realized that even in this time of anger, Hashem wrought such miracles for them, their love for Him was aroused, and they were ready to make a new kabalas haTorah.

What was this new kabala? Midrash Tanchuma (Noah 6:9) explains that at Matan Torah, the Jews had accepted upon themselves the written Torah and fulfillment of its mitzvos, but as for Torah sheb’al peh, meaning strenuous study of Torah — this they had not accepted. For Torah to be studied correctly, it must be learned day and night, with tremendous effort and a willingness to forego pleasures, wealth and even sleep.

Even though they desired Hashem’s Torah, it was hard for them to accept upon themselves such self-sacrifice. Now that they felt Hashem’s love so strongly, this instilled in them a greater love for Torah, and they accepted these sacrifices wholeheartedly.

For us as well, Purim is a time to make a new kabalas HaTorah, each Jew at his level. For some, this means learning day and night with added devotion and self-sacrifice. For others, self-sacrifice takes the form of getting up earlier in order to have a learning seder before setting out to work. In general, sticking to a daily schedule of learning means that at times, we forego pleasures, opportunities to make more money and the like. This willingness to sacrifice is part of the acceptance of the Torah that we should all be making at Purim.

Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook says that before Purim, we should pause and remind ourselves what it is we are celebrating. We must have in mind that the joy of Purim is based on love for Hashem and His Torah. The singing and dancing is meant to express how happy we are that we are Hashem’s nation and that we have the privilege of studying His Torah. Even if we get wild in dancing, it’s only an expression of this great love (see Ohr Hachaim Devarim 26:11).

The custom of drinking on Purim is also supposed to be based first and foremost on the joy we feel for Hashem and His Torah. The Beur Halacha (695:2) states clearly that if drinking will detract from our fulfilling mitzvos such as birkas hamazon, we should not drink. Rav Yerucham Levovitz would explain that the expression, “A man must drink on Purim until he does not know [the difference] between ‘blessed is Mordechai’ and ‘cursed is Haman’” (Megila 7b), means that one should feel closeness to Hashem even if his intelligence has been dimmed by the effects of alcohol. Even in such a state, his very body should cling to Hashem, even if his intelligence is not altogether with him at this moment. If after drinking, a person does not feel this closeness to Hashem, he should realize that he is not fulfilling the mitzvah of Purim correctly.

Rav Elazar Telzer was a living example of love of Torah. At his funeral, one of the Rabbanim said in his eulogy:

“Once, as Rav Elazar was on his way to shul, he passed by a window of that same shul and overheard two bachurim speaking in learning. He stopped in his tracks, mesmerized by their words, and suddenly, he felt a desire to add an explanation of his own to their discussion, only he was on the sidewalk below. The windowsill alone was barely in his reach. I saw that he was preparing himself to jump, grab hold of the windowsill and pull himself into the shul.

“‘Rav Elazar! What are you doing?’ I called out, trying not to scream. ‘Just keep walking, and at the end of the block is the door to the shul. You can walk in like a mentsch!’

“That was what I tried to say, but before I got the words out, Rav Elazar had already grabbed hold of the windowsill and pulled himself into the shul, calling out to the bachurim: ‘Wait! Don’t go on! I want to add something important to your discussion!’

“After giving his input into their sugya, Rav Elazar apologized: ‘I’m sorry for startling you by climbing through the window, but for such a beautiful bit of reasoning, I couldn’t hold myself back.’

“What ahavas Torah he had!” May we grow in ahavas Torah on Purim!