A devoted zookeeper in a small town faced a major challenge: the gorilla had died suddenly, leaving them without one of their most exciting attractions. Lacking the funds to import and replace the star of the zoo, the owner came up with a plan. He offered an employee a bonus to dress up in a gorilla suit and play the part.
Excited over the extra money, the employee accepted the challenge. He was a hit! Day after day he would strut around the gorilla enclosure, beating his chest, enjoying bananas, and entertaining the visitors. People were enthralled.
One afternoon, while swinging from a vine, he slipped and fell out of the enclosure and rolled down the hill into the lion’s cage landing in front of the ferocious, hungry lion. He cowered in the corner, screaming and preparing for what he imagined to be his final moment. The lion then leaned in, and through gnarled teeth whispered in his ear “Be quiet! If you don’t stop screaming, you’ll blow both of our covers and ruin it for all of us!”
Our sidrah describes the “bigdei kodesh,” the holy garments of the priests with striking emphasis and elaborate detail. These “uniforms,” which empowered the Kohanim to serve in the Sanctuary, included the Ketonet, the long linen tunic that reached until the heels, the Avnet, the long sash made of linen and red, purple, and blue wool, worn over the heart, the Migbaat, the linen turban wound around the head, and the Michnasayim, the knee-length, linen trousers. In addition to the four garments worn by every priest, the Kohen Gadol wore four additional garments: the Choshen, the “breastplate” containing precious stones inscribed with the names of Shevatim hung on the chest of the High Priest, the Ephod, an apron-like garment made of blue, purple, and crimson wool, linen, and gold thread, the Me’il, a woolen cloak adorned at the hem with golden bells and pomegranates, and the golden Tzitz, the High Priest’s turban bearing the inscription, “Holy to Hashem.”
As we are in the midst of a leap year, this weekend marks “Purim Katan,” the 14th of Adar Rishon. Now Chazal’s call to prepare for the coming celebration is in effect. We are to study the laws and meaning of each holy day “thirty days in advance” (Megillah 32). While acknowledging that Purim is beyond da’as and causality, and ultimately there’s no way to prepare for such a transcendent reality, we study, contemplate, and try to make hachanos, spiritual preparations, as best we can. It’s time to get moving on our Purim costumes.
The custom to wear costumes reflects the day’s theme of hiddenness and revelation—it is not only part of the raucous fun of Purim. Getting dressed up in costume and hiding our identity allows us to imagine the depths that lie beneath our superficial social appearance and self-appearance.
…Into shul walk a cartoon version of a president and a person wearing a Middle Eastern jalabiya. Seated next to Mordechai Hayehudi is a pink unicorn and a child with a fake beard wearing vestments as described in our parashah. Who are they really? Are these the same people we see every Shabbos and know so well? Are we our social roles, our appearances, our “garments,” or are we, in our daily lives, actually playing fictional characters? Perhaps the personas we put forth in a professional setting, and even those we wear among friends are indeed “costumes.” So, who are we really?
The word persona derives from the Greek prosopon, or “mask.” Ancient Greek actors wore a prosopon on stage, not to conceal themselves, but to reveal their character and their inner emotions to the audience. Our Purim mask, too, reveals something that we hide. Megillat Esther means “Revelation of the Hidden.”
The Ribbono Shel Olam, too, wears a mask, concealing the Divine Self behind natural events, causes, and effects, history, politics, and a veneer of “coincidence.” The world is Hashem’s costume. On Purim, we have a heightened opportunity to peek beneath this mask at who He really is.
As we “dress up” for different roles in our life, our actions and choices also fluctuate. Our behaviors are levushim, garments that can conceal our true desire to live with Yiddishkeit and make holy choices. Sadly, in the beginning of the Megillah, we participated in the unkosher feast of Achashverosh. This caused certain concealments and negative effects for us. But nahafoch-hu, “(the king’s) decree was reversed,” and by the end of the story, we re-accepted and upheld the Torah. On Purim, we realize that beneath our costume is who we really are: a Jew, eternally and essentially connected to Hashem.
Perhaps the most meaningful costume is dressing up as myself—revealing me, a Jew who desires closeness with Hashem. But no matter what we wear this Purim, may we not hold back from being and revealing our true self, our true essence, personally and nationally. Galus is but a concealment and mask, a costume we have worn for far too long. So, let us dress in “bigdei Kahuna,” garments of Jewish pride, holiness, and strength befitting a nation of priests. And may Hashem yisborach not hold back as well, and may He remove His mask of concealment, and put on a different costume, as the prophet promises:
“And He donned righteousness like a coat of armor, and a helmet of salvation is upon His head, and He donned garments of vengeance as His attire, and He was clad with zeal as a cloak.” (Yeshayahu, 59:17)
This Purim Katan, let us already blow the cover of the exile we are in, and awaken the great nahafoch-hu we are all waiting for!
Rav Judah Mischel is executive director of Camp HASC, the Hebrew Academy for Special Children. He is the mashpia of OU-NCSY, founder of Tzama Nafshi, and the author of “Baderech: Along the Path of Teshuva.” Rav Judah lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with his wife, Ora, and their family.