Forgive Me for my Drunkeness

     Though Purim is two days done, I still wanted to mention an interesting experience I had (and I'm not just talking about partying in Nachlaot). I had this incredible time dressing up and exploring the streets, seeing the religious communities I live in and often visit, in a more colourful light. I was happy to see happiness... something I often get drained from when only seeing black and white. But what made this Purim a truly inspiring event, turned out absent from my all my notebooks.

     After classes upon classes (from dissecting the Megillah to the halachot) and reading books on my own time (I loved The Miracles of Purim Part I and II by Rav Shlomo Brevda based off of commentary by the Vilna Goan), I was catching Rabbis and friends off guard with my new found knowledge. I felt great that in two weeks I had learned SO much about Purim I was teaching OTHER people. Not bad for a new Baalat teshuva. But, honestly, I was missing something. I didn't like how everything was so unilaterally focused on getting smashed, or conversely, the holiness of the day. I felt a disconnection between what I was learning and the festivities. I was told by some Rabbis that it had to be this holy, heightened and semi-normative experience OR by other Rabbis it was supposed to be this drunken chaotic mess. Either way, I was feeling a huge disconnect, and it was only growing the more I learned this day is supposed to be about Jewish unity. 

     And that's when Gd stepped in... and by Gd I mean that's when I serendipitously went to Rabbi Refson Jr.'s class, the last class before Purim break. Rabbi Refson sat down and started speaking about the spirituality of Purim. I was busy organizing my more... solid.... notes, while listing in on his passionate speech. Eventually, I focused my attention on his speech, as opposed to fiddling with my notes, because what he was saying to me started to seep in and resonate. 

     The sun fell, and Purim came in. I dutifully went to hear the entire Megillah, from first word to last, in all of its entirety, like I was taught. Instead of being tested on the ideas, Hebrew, and halcaha that I knew, I was tested in a much more interesting way. Ten minutes into this reading I was getting overwhelmed. I stifled a surprising swell of emotion and tears and had to stand up and pace in the back of the room. I often say the hardest thing about becoming religious is not being able to take back so many of the things I have seen or done. But more specific than that, it is the deep ball of regret that weighs you down. It is in the pit of your stomach, tearing at your insides. Even all the Yom Kippurim in the world can't lighten or relieve this feeling. That's why, when I heard the Megillah, I had to hold back this flood gate of tears. 

     Rabbi Refson had said that Purim is one of the holiest days of the year. In fact, after the Moshiach comes, the only two holidays that will be celebrated are Yom Kippur and Purim. I understand Yom Kippur, our day of repentance, but why Purim? Purim is the day when Hashem looks at us and says he accepts our prayers and loves us no matter how much we screw up (like the intermarrying and idol worship that took place during the time of the Purim story). Gd loves us and wants us to enjoy the world He has created and will save us when we seem unredeemable. So, while listening to our story, I realized even when I mess up pretty badly, and feel like all the Yom Kippurim in the world can't and won't fix my mistakes, I still have Purim to realize Hashem will always love me and THAT made my mistakes and regret a lighter load to carry.