Megillah – Scroll

Megillah – “Scroll” – Rules of the Read

  • We turn now to Purim and the Book of Esther, often referred to as the Megillah, though technically that could refer to any scroll, and it should be Megillah Esther. The holiday, and the book, are unique in Jewish tradition in that there is no clear link to God. The Book of Esther doesn’t mention God once, and the story of Esther, from beginning to end, is a quite logical one that requires no belief in the divine to explain the emotions, thoughts, or actions of any of the personalities in it. Those of a strong spiritual bent attribute this to the “hidden hand of God”, while those of more secular direction see the tale of a strong, intelligent woman who takes on an evil ruler and prevents the genocide of her own people. The focus of this tractate is on the rules for the out-loud reading of both the Book of Esther and accompanying Torah portions.
  • 12/14/21, Chapter 1, Page 2 – While officially Purim and the Megillah reading are held on the “14th of Adar”, there are some caveats based on what type of city or village you live in, and where it’s located, which allows for different places to celebrate anywhere from the 11th to 15th. Of interest to me, the first reference I recall to the Great Assembly, which was a roughly two hundred year period (516-332 BCE) that was famed for being the time when the great sages, scholars, and prophets of Judaism gathered, or at least collaborated, and created the official rules of Judaism. They codified the books of the Torah and other writings, they set the dates and practices for the holidays, and they formalized the prayers, rituals, and benedictions of spiritual life. When it is suggested in Talmudic discussion that things might be changed, the response is that that can only happen if a wiser Assembly comes along, and since it hasn’t, we stick with the rules as written. Reminds me of current discussions over the US Constitution and its authors.
  • 12/15/21, Page 3 – This tractate started with a discussion of the different rules for reading the Megillah depending on the type of city or village you live in. While one category, that of a “walled city”, was clear to all, the question arose of how to differentiate between a city and a village, in order to know which rules apply. It’s not, according to the Sages, the population or the size. No, the difference is decided based on how many “idlers” are “available”. Because an idler is not like a bum, but rather, someone who doesn’t work and is available as required, to attend to the community’s needs. If there are ten or more, it’s a city. If there are nine or fewer, it’s a village. And, they must be local idlers, you don’t count people who aren’t your own residents.
  • 12/16/21, Page 4 – We may think the whole “hard working people of the small towns” versus “city elites” is a modern dichotomy, but at the least, it seems to go back a couple of thousand years. A big part of the reason for smaller villages and towns to change the date of the Purim Megillah reading is to accommodate those blue-collar folk who produce food and water for those white collar and collegiate folk in the big cities. Since they have to do real work, and it’s not convenient for them to give up an extra day to come into the village to hear the reading, the rabbis allowed for the reading to be held on the nearest preceding “Day of Assembly”, or, more commonly, “Market Day”, when everyone comes to town to sell their wares and the reading can be held in the market square. All those soft city folk can make their way to a synagogue or other public assembly space on the proper date. It’s not like they do anything useful anyway.
  • 12/17/21, Page 5 – If the Megillah is going to be read out loud on a day other than the official date of 14 Adar, there must be a minyan, a quorum, of at least ten present. If there are fewer than that, or you choose to read it alone (still, out loud is the official requirement), it must be read on the 14th. A city which is walled on three sides, but the fourth side is the sea is not a walled city, because the sea is not a wall. Except when it is, such as the boundary of an eruv, or forming a passageway through the Red Sea.
  • 12/18/21, Page 6 – Don’t engage the wicked. That’s the gist of a section of today’s page that discusses an idea that is more and more common in today’s world as well. If you engage with those who are toxic, who are evil, who are morally bankrupt, does it simply give them, and their positions, legitimacy? The general consensus of the rabbis at the time was yes, all you do is empower them and their message, often leading them to triumphs in arenas where they otherwise might never have been a consideration. Further, unless you, yourself, are completely, and totally without sin and flaw, you simply open up a line of attack against yourself, and by extension, the ideas and ideals you support. Sounds like the lead stories in every political magazine and newspaper out there today. Let alone half the internet conversations that pass by on a daily basis.
  • 12/19/21, Page 7 – Out of the blue, we’re treated to a bunch of metaphors and stories involving food. We discover, in quick succession, that the spice of chili peppers is better than the blandness of a pumpkin (relating to Esther being a rebel). The standard food gift to the poor is dates and roasted flour… when one of the poorer sages gifts back ginger and long pepper that he can’t really afford, he does it in order to be thought of as someone more pungent, fierier than expected. And, perhaps, the origin of a phrase we’re all familiar with – There’s always room for dessert – here, related to the need for some sweetness in our lives and interactions, no matter how life is treating us.
  • 12/20/21, Page 8 – We seem to be doing a lot of “out of the blue” tangents, as today suddenly we’re immersed in the purification and vows of offerings related to leprosy and gonorrhea. Where that came from, I don’t know, and there’s no attempt to relate it to either Purim or anything else we’ve touched on in this text. In the final paragraphs of the page, we’re back to scrolls, and the start of a discussion, that looks like it continues to tomorrow’s page, on what languages are permitted for writing out the Torah and other scrolls, like the Megillah, compared to other sacred writings, like the scroll in the mezuzah or tefillin.
  • 12/21/21, Page 9 – The oldest Torahs in existence at the time of the Talmud had a different first sentence. We all know the opening of Genesis as “In the Beginning, God created…”. But in Talmudic discussions, and with much justification for why it was done, the rabbis admit that back in the days of the diaspora in Egypt, the original phrase… “The Beginning created God, who created…” was rewritten to reflect a desired viewpoint. The philosophical implication was enormous for them, that there was some sort of entity, bigger than God, and God is simply one creation, given limited powers to create more. This gets me back to my theory that God is just a Game Master of one game in a bigger universe.
  • 12/22/21, Page 10 – In the latter part of today’s page we finally get to the Book of Esther itself, with an introduction to some of the core characters of the story. The introductions are done with a take on what those of us of the nerd class used to call the Encyclopedia Game. You start with one entry and find connections that gradually lead you to another one that’s been predetermined. For the non-nerd class, it’s like “six degrees of Kevin Bacon”. Here, the rabbis begin with an apparently random passage from somewhere in the Bible, and through a series of word play and connected verses, work their way to the name and character of one of the people in the Book of Esther. It’s an odd approach, but a common one in the Talmud, enough so that these opening verses have a name, petikhta, loosely translated as a short preamble, or proem.
  • 12/23/21, Page 11 – The connect the dots of preamble to character continues on today’s page, and then swiftly transitions into an argument on different ways to indicate the extent and length of a king’s reign. Using the antagonists of the story of Esther, the rabbis argue over what the meaning of saying that a king ruled over two different cities meant, especially if the cities were neighboring. Bizarrely, and via circuitous logic, they come to the conclusion that by saying one rules over two adjacent cities, is the same as saying one ruled over the entire world. Then they turn to numbers, and whether saying seven and twenty and a hundred years meant 127, or first seven, then twenty, then a hundred – despite that numerous places in the Torah, that method of stating a number is clearly the former approach. Their logic, as I’m often finding in the Talmud, escapes me.
  • 12/24/21, Page 12 – The last couple of days’ connect the dots approach takes a dark turn. The Book of Esther opens with a brief story about King Ahasuerus hosting a seven-day banquet for visiting nobles, with copious amounts of wine served. His queen, Vashti, hosts a separate banquet for the nobles’ wives and other women. At the end of the week, Ahasuerus summons Vashti to appear before him to show off her beauty to his guests. She refuses, he gets angry, and in consultation with his advisors, declares her not the queen anymore, and starts a search for a replacement. In the Talmud, the rabbis create from whole cloth reasons for all of this – that the banquets were actually orgies, that Ahasuerus ordered her to appear naked in nothing but her crown, that she sent him a letter filled with insults, that she was an anti-semitic slave owner of Jewish women, that the Angel Gabriel gave her leprosy (and a tail) for refusing to submit to her husband, and that Ahasuerus killed her. Not one word of that is in the Book of Esther, but it has become the “truth”.
  • 12/25/21, Page 13 – In what I’m guessing will be the justification for the trickery used by Esther and Mordecai against the evil court advisor, Haman, the rabbis have a discussion about the justification for deception. In a reversal of the usual tenet of Judaism and Christianity of taking the high road, treating others as you wish to be treated, turning the other cheek, they pull out a passage from II Samuel that basically says, if someone treats you with good intentions, treat them with good intentions. If they have bad intentions, it’s okay to use subtle deception, i.e., trickery, against them. Now, it may be their intent to just apply this to an extreme situation like that of this story, but it seems to me a slippery slope sort of precedent to set-up.
  • 12/26/21, Page 14 – One of the key traditions in Jewish ritual is the reciting of the hallel. Often set to song, and sung communally, it’s the 113th to 118th Psalms, one after the other, thanking God for creation, exodus, freedom, community, and more (a tradition carried over into some Christian liturgy). It’s recited or sung on all the major holidays, save one on which it is actually not permitted to be. And that, is Purim. Why? Because although Esther and Mordecai thwarted Haman’s plot to have all the Jews in the kingdom killed, the Jews remained slaves and servants during Ahasuerus’ reign, and is considered, while a notable event in Jewish history, an incomplete attempt at freedom. Perhaps this is why the scribes left God out of the entire Book of Esther?
  • 12/27/21, Page 15 – There were four great beauties in the Torah – Sarah (wife of Abraham, mother of Isaac), Abigail (wife of King David), Rahab (brothel owner who hid the spies that Joshua sent to scout out Jericho), and… Esther… or wait… Vashti. No one’s sure. Some say that both were beautiful but that Esther should get the top spot (there’s no explanation of why there couldn’t be five beauties in the Torah). Others say no, Vashti was the beautiful one, and Esther was smart and righteous… but kind of unattractive… and green. Nothing in the Book of Esther alludes to her viridescence, and in fact the book is quite clear how beautiful she was. This appears to be more stuff made up by the Talmudic rabbis, presumably to show the triumph of brains over beauty.
  • 12/28/21, Page 16 – Continuing in their made up exposition, the Talmudic rabbis talk long and loud about the whole process of the king honoring Mordecai over Hamam, discussing how humiliated Hamam was to have to attend to Mordecai’s ablutions and being shamed for his lowly beginnings, assist him in getting dressed, mounting a horse, and then a whole story about Hamam’s daughter trying to shame Mordecai by throwing a bucket of shit on him, but ends up throwing it on her father, and then promptly kills herself. Literally, none of that is in the Book of Esther. There’s one single sentence that says that Hamam took the king’s robe, put it on Mordecai, and paraded him through the streets announcing that he was being honored. That’s the sum total of what’s actually in the book.
  • 12/29/21, Chapter 2, Page 17 – After all the wandering at the end of Chapter 1, this chapter starts with a note that basically reads, “we return you now to our regularly scheduled programming”, in this case, the rules around the reading of the Megillah. Two key elements of the out loud reading are discussed here. First, the scroll must be read in order. No skipping around, no connecting one part to another (until afterwards). It’s to be read, as written. Except… it has to be written in ancient Hebrew, in pen, by hand, on parchment, BUT, it can be read out loud in any language. Which means that the person reading out loud would have to be following the scroll in ancient Hebrew and translating into the other language as they went. No cheating and reading from a text on the side that’s written in the other language allowed. Seems to me that that’s just inviting mistakes to be made in the translated reading.
  • 12/30/21, Page 18 – Continuing on the topic of reading the Megillah in a language other than ancient Hebrew. There is disagreement, no surprise, among the Talmudic rabbis. What languages are acceptable? All of them? A few well known ones? Or just Greek and/or Aramaic, languages that everyone apparently knows? And what if you, as a listener, don’t happen to understand the language being recited out loud? Have you fulfilled the mitzvah of hearing the Megillah read? Some say yes, that all it takes is being present in the space while the words are being read, not your understanding. Some say no, that you must hear it in a language you can understand. As usual, little, if nothing, is settled.
  • 12/31/21, Page 19 – Once again, it’s deaf people, imbeciles, and minors. Posited is that none of those can read the Megillah out loud. Deaf people can’t hear the words, imbeciles can’t understand the words, and minors (pre-bar mitzvah) simply aren’t yet capable. There is much argument over the first. As in past passages, it is suggested that a deaf person can hear the words in their heart as they read, and as long as they’re not mute, are perfectly capable of reading out loud to others. Not all agree. Rabbi Yosei in particular is adamant that a person reading the Megillah must be able to actually hear the words. I’ve read a bit about Yosei in other contexts, and he seems to have a particularly negative view of people with disabilities and there is more than one story out there of his surprise that someone “like that” is capable of normal human activities.
  • 1/1/22, Page 20 – Having dismissed deaf folk out of hand, we now move on to the question of a minor reading the Megillah to the crowd. There’s an old joke that defines the term “chutzpah”, a sort of brazen audacity, with the example of a child who kills both his parents and then pleads for the mercy of the court because he’s an orphan. That sort of approach to things pops up time and again in the Talmud. One of the rabbis who claims minors are perfectly capable points out that he himself used to read it, many years ago, and no-one objected. Team “No” responds with a smack back, stating that since minors aren’t capable, his recollection of what he might or might not have done when he was young isn’t evidence.
  • 1/2/22, Chapter 3, Page 21 – Today’s a simple one. While it’s traditional to stand while reading from the Torah, and originally it was also traditional for those hearing it to stand, though now that’s not the usual practice, this is not the case for the Megillah. It is perfectly acceptable for either or both of the reader and the listeners to sit during the reading of the Megillah. It’s part of making this particular task on a joyous holiday enjoyable for everyone. Plus, Purim involves a lot of drinking, sometimes even during the reading. That’s my kind of religious obligation.
  • 1/3/22, Page 22 – It is asserted that if you prostrate yourself in supplication, arms outstretched on the floor, and your prayers aren’t answered, then that would be humiliating. Therefore, it is asserted, important people, like the top rabbis and sages, don’t prostrate themselves in supplication in public, because if (when) their prayers aren’t immediately answered, they would be humiliated. And we can’t have that. Public humiliation is for you lesser folk.
  • 1/4/22, Page 23 – There is a concept in the Talmud that’s not mentioned in the Torah called k’vod tzibur, respect for the congregation. It is seldom used, and mostly for things like not dragging out services and rituals while members of the congregation have to stand and wait. But it pops up for other reasons, as in today’s passage, where it is stated that a woman can’t read the Megillah out loud out of respect for the congregation. No explanation is given, which is unusual for the Talmud, though obviously sexism ought to crown the list. Among most Orthodox the prohibition still stands, though some Orthodox rabbis are changing that, countering it with the concept of k’vod habriyot, respect for human dignity, acknowledging that the times they are a changing.
  • 1/5/22, Page 24 – First off, two years today into this venture! Continuing on the theme of disrespect for the congregation, we’re told that if someone is reading from the books of the Prophets they can skip around from section to section, even book to book, with two caveats. First, you can’t go from a later verse to an earlier verse in the same book, as it might confuse members of the congregation. Second, you have to be ready to start the next section before your translator finishes translating the previous section, because making the congregation wait would be disrespectful. It’s not clear how this is managed if you’re not being simultaneously translated, perhaps that was a non-existent issue when reading to the community – I’d guess most of them didn’t speak ancient Hebrew, rather than local vernacular like Aramaic or Greek.
  • 1/6/22, Page 25 –  “There are portions of the Bible that are read and translated; there are portions that are read but not translated; and there are portions that are neither read nor translated.” The last is the most interesting to me, because as far as I know, every congregation out there reads the whole Torah every year, and plenty of scholars do as well, and there are translations of the whole thing. They proceed to cite numerous examples of each category. The last turns out to be more like “don’t use coarse language, come up with a good euphemism”. This seems to be more “respect for the congregation” and “don’t humiliate the important folk” stuff, fitting, as this is the last page in a chapter dedicated to those subjects.
  • 1/7/22, Chapter 4, Page 26 – If you’ve never watched the TEDtalk of Kyle MacDonald’s One Red Paperclip story, it’s a fun romp through the world of trading things “up”. What makes it particularly fascinating is not his end result, but the glimpse of what different people consider to have value to them – because on its surface, the idea seems like a win-lose, where he’s putting something over on others, but it’s really a win-win, in that both he and the other person get something that they value more than what they started with. And that’s the premise of today’s Talmud page, as the rabbis look at the gifting, renting, or sale of different sanctified objects and properties, with the admonition that the result must be that your swap ends you up with something of higher sanctified value… to you and your community. With both sides of a transaction having the same restriction, it becomes a One Red Paperclip story.
  • 1/8/22, Page 27 – There are two sanctified “objects” that are contentious when it comes to selling them. The Torah, being the most sanctified thing a community can possess. If there’s nothing of great value that you could trade it for, or sell it in order to buy, can it even be sold? Some say a newer Torah scroll would be appropriate, others say no, no Torah is more valuable than another. Some say that it can be sold if the proceeds are going to be used for a lifetime of Torah study, or in order to marry and have children. Others say no. And, a synagogue itself, not because you might not find another of more value to the community, but because of what the building might be used for that would be insulting. This one engenders a bizarre conversation, the depths of which dive down to the rule that in order to pray after urinating, you must move six feet away from the spot where you relieved yourself, and therefore, since one can pray pretty much anywhere, how could a future use be an affront?
  • 1/9/22, Page 28 – The secrets to a long, happy, and healthy life…. Never step on someone else to get ahead or denigrate them to promote yourself. Resolve interpersonal conflicts in the moment and don’t bring anger and resentment into your home, nor go to bed angry or resentful. Forego taking revenge for slights. Don’t take pleasure in or make fun of someone when they make a mistake or are injured. Don’t call people names, either to their face or behind their backs. Be generous with those who are in need. Study, something, every day, and treat your study as something precious, not to be trifled with.
  • 1/10/22, Page 29 – One of the things that’s come up time and again in Talmudic discussions is that whenever two things are juxtaposed together, especially repeatedly, one needs to look at their underlying connection. So when several times over a couple of paragraphs we are told that one may only interrupt one’s Torah study in order to “accompany a corpse to its burial and a bride to her wedding”, I find myself musing. It’s not stated as an “or”, and there’s no comma (well, ancient Hebrew had no punctuation), but even in the various English translations neither of those is done. So I’d say it’s quite the the day one has to have in front of them in order to interrupt their Torah study – a funeral and a wedding!
  • 1/11/22, Page 30 – These guys really could have used a smartphone and a scheduling app. During the month before Passover, the month of Adar, there are four special Torah portions that are read in addition to the usual weekly readings (Shekalim, Zachor, Parah, HaChodesh). They relate specifically to concepts around Passover (which happens more or less right after Purim). Apparently deciding which Sabbath of the four preceding ones was to be dedicated to which additional portion is a nightmare to decide, especially if you live outside of a walled city. I’m not sure why, it seems that you could just designate one to each week, and be done with it, but these guys do like to argue.
  • 1/12/22, Page 31 – Those of us within the LGBTQIA+ (nailed it, I think) community have had Leviticus 18 and 20 thrown at us for years as “proof” that God is against all things gay. Of course, taken in context, it says the same thing about those who commit adultery, incest, pedophilia, rape, bigamy, and bestiality, a couple of those being things that the bible thumping sorts, both Christian and Jewish, seem to conveniently and hypocritically, forget. The punishments for each are excommunication or death. Here on today’s Talmud page, the rabbis, clearly operating in a different worldview from that of their ancient ancestors, make no mention of those punishments, instead offering that the appropriate response in their day and age is confession and repentance on Yom Kippur.
  • 1/13/22, Page 32 – We finish off this tractate with a pretty severe admonition. Never handle a Torah scroll directly, i.e., touch the parchment of the scroll. Except when being read, the Torah scroll is kept within its cover, it’s unfurled and furled using the rods that the parchment is attached to, and, we use a yod, a pointer, to point to and/or touch the scroll, never our hand. And the admonition? If you touch the parchment scroll directly you are condemned to be buried naked, without shroud or coffin, and without honors. After you die, of course, not immediately.

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