Echoes of Purim in Post Pandemic Visions

Of the top questions so many of us have been asking ourselves these past months, there is a genre of which we are all too familiar.  I like to call it the “what happens after” questions--What will it be like when this is all over?  What will the world look like? What will our world and our communities take with them? What will we learn??

In March 2020, Alexis Valdes penned a poem “When the Storm Passes-Hope” that took a stab at depicting a vision for a post-pandemic world.

While the entire poem (translated from the Spanish) can be found at the end of this blog, below are a few reflections on key elements of this most powerful poem that can teach us much about both Purim and our post pandemic vision.  

“When the storm passes…..collective shipwreck”

The storm of the pandemic has been a decree on the entire global community. 

Yet, “[w]e are in the same storm, but not in the same boat. Your ship can be shipwrecked and mine might not be. Or vice versa …”*

Yes, the tragedy of a collective shipwreck has strong lessons, but we often learn more about impact when we look at individual stories and struggles. 

We are all in different life-stage boats, different socio-economic boats, different gender boats, some are in parent boats and some in student boats and so much more. The decree is the same, but the effect of the storm is different on all of us.

We also may be able to apply this lesson to Purim. The storm of the decree from Haman on the Jews of Shushan is one of which we are all familiar and all Jews were doomed to the same fate. Yet, we often do not think of the different boats of Jews then and now.  No experience for Jews, no matter the place, whether it be Shushan, Egypt or anywhere else was the same. Different Jewish communities, different people and different families had different lenses and were impacted differently.  When we keep this in mind we have more of a sense of the depth of the decree. 

Megillat Esther says in chapter 3, verse 13 that “written instructions were dispatched by couriers to all the king’s provinces to destroy, massacre, and exterminate all the Jews, young and old, children and women.” While we often bunch “all Jews” into one, certainly then, just like now, no storm ever impacts each Jew, each person or each boat in the same way.

 

And all at once we will learn, all we had not learned before

In his book, Panecha Avakesh, Rabbi Eyal Vered, discusses the unique Purim concept of venahafoch hu--the idea that everything was eventually turned upside down.  R. Vered takes issue with that definition and interprets what happened in Shushan as a case not of things being topsy-turvy, but of a repositioning of lens and priorities.  

He writes, “the Jews were not turned upside down, they were focussed on another point of view--they realized and tapped into parts of themselves they never realized---they found inner strength and conviction they never had before.” 

This, he says, is one of the true takeaways of Purim. And this should also be the lesson of these times as well. We should see the world not as upside down, but we should see it in a new light with lenses that we never accessed.  Whether it is the socioeconomic divide, racial issues or family dynamics and equity--let’s hope that we will learn much that we could have never learned before.  

We will be more generous, and much more committed 

We will understand how fragile, it means to be alive.

We will sweat empathy for who is and who has left.

Following the salvation in Shushan, the Jews responded not only with joy but with empathy. The celebration was not only an occasion to party, but it was one of "sending portions of food to one another, and gifts to the poor" (9:22). Purim is unique as it is the only holiday where we are given the commandment to empathize with our sisters and brothers with both nutritional and financial support by mishloach manot and matanot l’evyonim.

In learning this poem with my good friend and teacher, Halaine Steinberg, she shared a similar missive for all of us when this passes.  She said that those who will be blessed to leave this pandemic with health intact almost “owe something” to the human race. True, we owe each other “sweat empathy”-- a need to work harder than ever to make the world a better, more equal and just place.

While, yes, we are still in the storm, let us hope that vaccines are the beginning of a way out.  But, if we are blessed to leave with health, when we do leave, let’s leave with esperanza, with hope and an internalization of our boats, our lessons and empathy like we have never seen before. 

Purim sameach. 

 

 

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"When the storm passes" (Esperanza - Hope) Poem by Alexis Valdés

When the storm passes

and the roads are tamed,

and we are the survivors

of a collective shipwreck.

With a weeping heart

and a blessed destiny 

we will feel happy

just for being alive.

And we will hug

the first stranger

and praise the luck 

of not having lost a friend.

And then we'll remember

everything we lost

And all at once we will learn

all we had not learned before

We will no longer be envious 

because we have all suffered

We will no longer be lazy

And will be more compassionate 

What belongs to all will be worth more 

than that never achieved

We will be more generous

and much more committed 

We will understand how fragile

it means to be alive.

We will sweat empathy

for who is and who has left.

We will miss the old man

asking for a dollar in the market

we didn't know his name

although he was next to us

 

And perhaps the poor old man

was your God in disguise.

You never asked for his name

because you were in a hurry.

And everything will be a miracle

And everything will be legacy.

And life will be respected,

the life we have won.

When the storm passes

I ask God, full of sadness 

to return us to be better

as he had dreamed we would be.

Translation of Alexis Valdés  poem "Esperanza" (Hope) written in Spanish in March 2020 about the humanitarian crisis brought "by the Coronavirus and the "hope" of how we will feel when the "Storm Passes" ("Cuando pase la tormenta"  -  Esperanza)

Alexis Valdés is a Cuban composer, singer, musician and poet residing in Miami. Translated by CP

*This new sentiment is usually attributed to an unknown author, but it may have originated with this tweet by Damian Bar  here