Parshat Ki Tissa & Purim: Modern Day Esthers

As we enter Shabbat Ki Tissa, which coincides with Purim, a common theme emerges: finding faith in moments of crisis and ensuring its message endures l’dorot, for generations to come.

The sin of the Golden Calf stands as one of Am Yisrael’s greatest failings, to the point that God initially intends to destroy them. Moshe pleads for their salvation, even offering to be erased from the Torah. The Sages teach that its effects linger in every generation: “There is no generation that does not bear an ounce of the sin of the Golden Calf.” Many commentaries see the Mishkan as a tikkun (atonement) – particularly through the donation of gold, transforming the very substance of their downfall into a means of holiness. Yet, the lasting message is clear: do not lose faith so swiftly when Moshe and God’s presence seem out of reach.

Similarly, according to the Talmud, Esther had to persuade the Sages to record her story for future generations (kitvuni l’dorot). While they hesitated, she understood the ongoing relevance of Megillat Esther: a model of faith when the face of God seems hidden. Perhaps for this reason, the laws of Megillah reading are so stringent. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi teaches that the obligation to read it twice—once at night and once in the day—is derived from the verse in Psalms: “O my God, I call by day but You do not answer; and at night, and there is no respite for me.” Reading the Megillah serves as an antidote to the natural feeling of divine abandonment. It is a written reminder for every generation of God’s hidden presence, even in the darkest times.

Today, returned hostages who have shared stories of bravery and faith, despite overwhelming despair, serve as a modern manifestation of kitvuni l’dorot. Like Esther, they remind us of the power of faith, even when redemption seems distant. Purim Sameach and Shabbat Shalom🎭🇮🇱-Karen Miller Jackson


Vayikra: The Heart follows the Giving

Parshat Vayikra teaches the laws of various korbanot. The concept of sacrifices may seem archaic and irrelevant to our lives today. However, the commentaries find deep meaning in the Torah’s description of these offerings. 

The first of the korbanot, the olah (elevation), is introduced as follows: “If a man (adam) from among you offers a sacrifice…” It is less common for the Torah to use the word “adam” for man, instead of “ish.” Rashi based on the midrash teaches that this refers to the first man of creation – Adam, who was the first to bring a sacrifice to God (in the midrash). Just as Adam did not give a gift to God from stolen property, we too must not make an offering based on theft. Adam’s offering was whole-hearted. The act of giving brought him closer to God and elevated his own life. Perhaps this is also an optimistic assessment of the spiritual potential of his descendents. 

A similar idea is expressed about the sin-offering in the Sefer Hachinuch. The korban chatat is brought when a person sins inadvertently. Even when the sin is unintentional, words of regret are not enough to compensate. The act of bringing an offering fulfills the Chinuch’s famous concept of “the heart follows after the actions.” In sinning we move away from God, by giving we move closer. And, the act of giving has a deep imprint on our character. In more modern terms, Gary Chapman has shown that there are five types of love languages in couple relationships. One of the ways some people express love and draw closer is through the giving and receiving of gifts. 

This principle is also at the heart of Purim. Rambam writes that one should spend more money on gifts to the poor than on other Purim mitzvot, since “no joy is greater than the joy of gladdening the hearts of the poor…” Our hearts may be heavier than usual this Purim. May our hearts follow after the act of giving and find some light and joy. Shabbat Shalom and Purim sameach -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Tetzaveh: You are What You Wear?

Parshat Teztaveh describes at length the clothing worn by the kohanim. Their garments are called “bigdei kodesh,” holy clothing, worn for “kavod” (honor) and “tifaret” (glory). Why so much emphasis on clothing – a seemingly materialistic thing – worn by the holiest person in Israel? 

The midrash explains that the eight different articles of the high priest’s clothing atoned for the sins of Israel, like the korbanot (sacrifices). The elaborate dress was meant to remind the kohanim of their role as representing all of Israel and help enhance their service of God. Perhaps related to this, Rambam states that one should wear clothing which is neat and presentable during prayer. Conversely, nakedness in Torah represents a spiritual lacking. In Bereshit, Rashi understands Adam and Eve’s realization of their nakedness (after their sin) as meaning they had no mitzvot to be covered with. Nakedness represents vulnerability and a deficiency of mitzvot/goodness. 

Clothing also plays a key role in Megillat Esther. After Haman’s decree, Mordechai goes through the city with kriya, torn clothes. The external tear is representative of his internal grief and suffering. Moreover, Before Esther approaches King Achashverosh in hope of saving the Jewish people, the megilla states: “And it came to pass on the third day Esther wore (malchut) queenliness.” The Talmud asks why the megillah states that she wore “queenliness” and not queenly robes? To teach that she actually wore ruach hakodesh, the holy spirit. Here too, clothing reflects something deeper and more spiritual, as Esther stepped into her destiny and identity as queen and savior.  

These sources highlight the deep connection between outer clothing and one’s inner spiritual state. On Purim too, costumes are meant to enhance the feeling of joy associated with the holiday. After a week filled with too much grief in Israel, may this Purim help us move from darkness to light, from sorrow to joy, inside and out. Shabbat Shalom and Purim Sameach! – Karen Miller Jackson