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March 5, 2004
What is the miracle of Purim?
When we get used to something, its ability to elicit wonder dissipates.
RABBI ADIN STEINSALTZ SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH BULLETIN
People generally think that a miracle must be a supernatural event.
In truth, however, a miracle need not be supernatural and a supernatural
event may not necessarily be a miracle. These two concepts sometimes
overlap, but they are not identical.
The events of Purim are clearly regarded as miraculous, yet the
story unfolds quite logically, through very human emotions and very
human actions. Certainly, the narrative has religious elements:
There is prayer, there is a fast, there is faith in deliverance,
but where are the miracles the nisim and why
is God's name not even mentioned? Perhaps, we must re-examine just
what a miracle is, that is, what turns a mere event into a miracle.
I would suggest that the "supernatural" is whatever cannot
be explained by the physical laws of nature as we understand them,
whereas a "miracle" is a meaningful event, regardless
of whether it happens within the laws of nature or outside of them.
The essential aspect of a miracle is its significance. To illustrate
this in broad theological strokes, we may say that if the Almighty
is not concerned with the actual agency of a miracle, then it should
not matter to us either. What matters is not how something happens,
but the meaning associated with what happens.
This definition entails a change of conception, since even something
that happens naturally can still be meaningful. People who have
been cured of a serious illness, for example, or who escape from
a dangerous situation, recite the blessing of haGomel in
synagogue, in which they publicly thank God for having saved them.
This does not mean that recovering from illness or walking away
from an accident unscathed is necessarily miraculous in the supernatural
sense of the word, but only that it is significant. And it is its
significance that makes it miraculous.
Our awareness of the association between miracles and meaning fades
with familiarity: When we get used to something, its ability to
elicit wonder tends to dissipate. The Bible records that when Eve
gave birth to Cain, she uttered in awe, "I have made a man
together with God." (Genesis 4:1) The birth of a baby is no
less a miracle today, and God's role in the process has in no way
been diminished, yet there is a tendency for people to take it for
granted. The manna in the desert was most certainly a miracle, but
in the course of 40 years of wandering in the desert, the Israelites
became accustomed to it. Indeed, not only did they cease to marvel
at it, but they complained bitterly that it was their only form
of sustenance.
We can see, then, that we use the terms supernatural and miraculous
for things to which we are not accustomed. Indeed, it matters little
whether an event is objectively natural or supernatural; what matters
is how we perceive it.
In the Jewish prayer book, there are a great number of blessings.
Many of them concern simple, mundane activities, such as opening
one's eyes in the morning, stretching, standing on one's feet, walking
and so on. Why must we say them every day? Because the significance
and wondrousness of our ability to do these things tends to get
lost. We rarely recognize them as gifts from God until they are
suddenly gone: It is only when pain prevents us from walking with
ease that we recognize and acknowledge God's role in "firming
our footsteps."
In fact, we often need to experience the extraordinary in order
to reawaken us to the significance of the ordinary. When something
happens that is remarkable and unusual, we are jolted out of our
stupor and re-acquire the ability to see the miraculous in the routine
and the habitual. This sudden change enables us to see what routine
conceals, so that we can once again perceive what is truly important
and what is not.
There are two ways of sensing God's presence in the world. One is
through thunder and lightning and other extraordinary events; the
other is within the world's natural order. Nature is God's alternate
signature, so to speak, when He does not want to sign His work with
the Ineffable Name.
Thus, we may say that God wrote the Book of Esther using a pseudonym;
God's name is there even when it is not written. And, more important,
God is there. Even things that seem rational, clear and "natural,"
may be miracles. May our experience of Purim enable us to appreciate
all of the miracles in our lives.
Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, an author, scholar and social critic
best known in the United States for his translation and commentary
on the Talmud, is the founder of a worldwide network of Jewish educational
institutions. His efforts are supported in America by the Aleph
Society. Steinsaltz's most recent releases are The Miracle of
the Seventh Day and Opening the Tanya: Discovering the Moral
and Mystical Teachings of a Classic Work of Kabbalah, both published
by Jossey Bass: Wiley.
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