Back in 1935, my zayde, by an Act of Parliament, changed our family name from Bilsky to Beals. As Izzy Bilsky, this gifted designer of fine apparel could not get West End London ladies to buy his creations (even with his cultivated accent). But as William I. Beals, he was a great success.
His feeling was that neither he nor his children nor their children should be prejudged on the basis of their Judaism. Rather, they should be judged by their merits, and then they could decide whether or not to share their Judaism with others. (In a way, my zayde was foreshadowing something very similar to what Martin Luther King Jr. would say 30 years later in America.)
What mischief I have done with my zayde’s vision. I became a rabbi, wear a kippah all the time, and along with my wife, have named our daughters Ariella and Shira.
But perhaps my zayde’s wishes have been respected after all. It was his desire that his progeny decide whether or not to share their Jewish identity with others. And perhaps he would take delight to know that unlike London of the ’30s, in the United States of the ’00s, it is perfectly acceptable to be open about one’s Judaism and even “go public,” as it were.
Such is the dilemma faced by Mordechai and Hadassah in the opening chapters of the Book of Esther. As the Jewish girl, Hadassah, our heroine, can be of little use to her people. But renamed Esther, her Jewish identity now hidden, there is much good that she might do in the harem of the Persian king. (Interestingly, these seemingly traditional Jewish names, Mordechai (my own Hebrew name) and Esther, are really based on the ancient pagan gods of the region.)
Mordechai is derived from the name Marduk, the great city god of Babylonia. And Esther is derived from Astarte, the great fertility goddess. In modern-day America, to name someone Mordechai and Esther would be equivalent to naming one’s child Christopher or Christina.
Of course, today, so long after the death of these ancient pagan civilizations, it is impossible to conceive of the names Mordechai and Esther as anything but Jewish in origin. The Book of Esther is the only biblical book outside of four of the Five Books of Moses to be written outside of the land of Israel. As such, the story serves as a kind of guidebook for survival in the diaspora.
The lessons are disturbing:
• Sleep with power (shades of Monica Lewinsky).
• Assimilate to attain power.
• Reek revenge and havoc upon your enemies.
It is simply amazing that this story made it in to the holy canon of Hebrew scripture and became one of the most popular Jewish holidays. For me, the joy of the holiday of Purim is to note how far we have come as a diaspora people. We are above seeking revenge from our enemies.
Today the ultimate revenge is supporting a Jewish state of our own. Today, we are morally above sleeping with power (although Hollywood is an entirely different issue). And most important, there is no need for us to hide our children’s Judaism in assimilated names.
Although I may bear the English name Michael and the Hebrew name Mordechai, it is with special joy that my daughters’ names are the same in English and Hebrew. We dress in costumes on Purim to mark Esther’s need to hide her Jewish identity.
Today, we can safely take our masks off. May we raise our children and our children’s children to be proud of their Jewish heritage.
That is the modern-day miracle of Purim.
Rabbi Michael Beals is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Shalom in Wilmington, Del.