“If not for you,” sang Bob Dylan, “my winter would hold no spring.” Our two early springtime holidays – Purim and Passover – form a remarkable study in contrasts. The latter is both the first Jewish holiday (born alongside the Jewish nation), and falls first in the biblical calendar, which aligns itself according to the declaration “this month shall be the beginning of the months for you, first of the months in the year for you” (Exodus 12:2). The former, in contrast, not only falls in the last month of the biblical calendar, but is the final biblical holiday added to our calendar.
Passover is a holiday marked by meticulousness and forbearance, while Purim is an occasion for wild abandon. The traditional Haggadah goes to great lengths to choose passages that tell the Exodus story almost completely without mentioning Moses or Aaron (Moses’ name is dropped once, in passing), the better to emphasize God as the central actor in the story; whereas the Megillah never once directly mentions God.
Purim and Pesach remind us that we’ve been through the full range of possible experience: from beginning to end, from miraculous to ordinary, from the Hamans who would destroy our bodies to the Pharaohs who would destroy our souls, we’ve seen them all. They are gone; we’re still here. Purim prompts us to be Mordechais and Esthers who engage with the world around us – even when it’s a ridiculous place – and save the day. And Passover prepares us to understand that if saving the day really is beyond our power, then help will come from another place. We’ve seen a lot of winters. We’ve seen as many springs.
Friends, our office recently received a fairly clownish email from would-be scammers with my name attached – and clownish or not, they would happily steal from you if given the opportunity. So, a few words of caution:
1. While I generally encourage you to support our shul, Federation, and other tzedakah that you care about with the generosity that you can afford; and while I might inform the congregation as a whole about specific opportunities or needs (such as our Torah repair fund which helps maintain a vital resource within our shul); if I would ever solicit you personally for some donation, it would surely be through a phone or in-person conversation, rather than text or email.
2. If I ever ask you to make a donation, it would still mean contacting our office (or Federation, etc.), never giving money in any form directly to me. Neither I, nor the office, nor any other legitimate charity or nonprofit, would ever under any circumstance ask you to buy gift cards as a donation! (Scammers love to have victims buy them gift cards, as they are easily transferred and untraceable.)
3. If you get any strange solicitation, don’t hesitate to call the office and let us know about it. It’s extremely easy for a scammer to put together a shul’s office email address and rabbi’s name and go fishing. If someone is able to connect to congregants’ email addresses and target you, that is of much greater concern.
To warmer tidings in the months ahead!