Fighting Indifference
Fighting Indifference
Esther acted without guarantees, entering the king's court before knowing how the story would end — and Taanit Esther teaches us to do the same: to fast, gather, and refuse indifference while we still stand inside the tension of waiting.
Every year, on the 13th of Adar, we fast. Taanit Esther asks us to do something that feels almost contradictory. Adar is the month of joy — "משנכנס אדר מרבין בשמחה" — and yet just before Purim, we fast. It seems quite antithetical to the theme of the month. And even more so, we are anticipating celebrating the end result, the joy and celebration. So why the repeat performance commemorating the days of fasting?
One way of understanding it is that Taanit Esther teaches us how to stand in the middle of the story. It is remembering the spiritual poise of Esther and the Jewish people when the outcome was unknown. Esther tells Mordechai to gather all the Jews to fast on her behalf. The fact is, she was taking a major risk by going to the king uninvited. It was an indefensible offense, and Esther knew it might cost her her life. It was not a formula that would certainly succeed.
Esther had no guarantees. She didn't say "first show me the happy ending, then I'll act." Jewish life is not only about celebrating redemption after it arrives — it is about sanctifying the waiting while we are still inside the tension. In those days, as in our days, the fast of Taanit Esther is reminding us all: I will not pretend I control everything. But I also will not surrender to fear. Elie Wiesel famously said: "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference… The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference." And maybe that is exactly the point of Taanit Esther.
The fast is not the opposite of Purim joy. It is not antithetical to the concept of the month. It is fighting indifference. Taanit Esther comes to break the spiritual numbness which had befallen the Jewish people at the time. Then, as now, we are reminded of the message that we will not be detached, we will not just watch history happen to us. We will gather, we will pray, we will fast, we will be compassionate and concerned for one another.
And then, when Purim comes, our joy is not superficial excitement — it is the joy of a people who stayed spiritually alive while waiting in the scary space of the in-between. Faith is not a place without any worry, but it's leaning in while there is uncertainty.
The Sages taught in a baraita: When the Jewish people is immersed in distress, and one of them separates himself from the community and does not share their suffering, the two ministering angels who accompany a person come and place their hands on his head, as though he was an offering, and say: This man, so-and-so, who has separated himself from the community, let him not see the consolation of the community. A similar idea is taught in another baraita: When the community is immersed in suffering, a person may not say: "I will go to my home and I will eat and drink, and peace be upon you, my soul" (Talmud Taanit 11a).
Taanit Esther reflects the refusal to detach oneself from the fate of the Jewish people, whatever may come our way. It teaches us not to be apathetic, not to give up, and not to close oneself off from the greater community. According to Chazal, it's in the time of the Purim story when we actively, willingly took the Torah upon ourselves as well (Talmud Shabbat 88a). The process of fasting and the megilla's recounting Esther's trajectory to become the heroine of the story encourage us to fight passivity.
Many of us feel that we are living in a time of waiting. Waiting to see whether things will escalate or calm down. And the hardest part is often not only the danger itself — it is the waiting. Waiting for news, hoping for clarity. Taanit Esther guides us in our time of waiting, it reminds us how to live with emunah; act with compassion, with unity and daily courage, and refuse despair. Continue to live in the dichotomy of preparing safe rooms and shelters while also buying costumes and preparing for mishloach manot.
So yes — we are meant to be happy in Adar. Our joy is not merely a response to victory; it is a testament to our resilience and faith amidst uncertainty. In Adar we not only celebrate the victory of Purim, we are reminded through Taanit Esther how Jews lived before the victory occurred. As we prepare to celebrate Purim, let us carry the lessons of Taanit Esther in our hearts. In our times of waiting, may we gather in unity, act with compassion, and refuse indifference.
Originally published on Matan.
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