Although it was an admirably selfless act, why was Esther’s attribution worthy of triggering the process of geulah?

AS

we march toward Pesach, the ethereal power of Purim still permeates the air. As Rav Yitzchok Hutner tells us (Reshimos Lev, Purim, p. 298), Havdalah isn’t recited after Purim (the Sages ultimately decided not to make it a day of issur melachah, Megillah 5b) specifically to enable the day’s potency to remain with us well after its close. In his Likutim on Purim, the Imrei Emes relates that we are unable to actually make Havdalah, because “im ein daas, Havdalah minayin” (Yerushalmi Berachos 5:3) — and after fulfilling the mitzvas hayom of imbibing wine ad d’lo yada, reciting Havdalah is no longer feasible.

So back to the Purim story we go — and where better to turn first but to the start of the magical turnabout, the auspicious scene of Mordechai Hatzaddik riding atop the king’s horse, garbed in royal splendor, led through town by the nefarious Haman. This was the beginning of the ensuing geulah, a glorious taste of the eventual orah v’simchah v’sasson vikar (Esther 8:16) that captures the awesomeness of this special time.

What precisely engendered such a momentous event? We find the answer in “Vatomer Esther l’melech b’sheim Mordechai” (Esther 2:22). Chazal (Megillah 15a) inform us that Esther’s mention of Mordechai as the one responsible for saving the king’s life, taking no credit at all for herself, was the harbinger for Achashveirosh to shower his gratitude upon Mordechai and set the stage for the v’nahafoch hu redemption.

Although it was an admirably selfless act, why was Esther’s attribution worthy of triggering the process of geulah? For a poignant answer and a crucial historical lesson, we turn to the Maharal in his Derech Chaim on Avos (6:5). There he elucidates the significance of the last in a long list of prerequisites for truly acquiring Torah: “ha’omer davar b’sheim omro — one who properly attributes a saying to the one who originated it brings redemption to the world.” If HaKadosh Baruch Hu typically acts toward us middah k’neged middah, how are we to understand the connection of omer davar b’sheim omro with meriting geulah?

When the King of all Kings sends us a redemption, explains the Maharal, He wants us to recognize clearly that He alone is the One Who wrought our salvation, and there is simply no room for kochi v’otzem yadi. The concatenation of events leading to the geulah from Mitzrayim was orchestrated entirely by Hashem; none of it was due to our wisdom, brute strength, astute tactics, or military strategies. It is the omnipotent Creator Who freed us from the abject bondage of ancient Egypt, and the same Al-mighty who redeemed us from all subsequent exiles as well.

Galus Paras-Madai was no exception. If Esther had wrongly taken credit for Mordechai’s spy-like work to save the king, continues the Maharal, she would have jettisoned her role as a key figure in Hashem’s masterplan to save the Jewish People. Because to play a pivotal role in the Al-mighty’s intricately woven plan for redemption, it is imperative that one be cognizant throughout that he is simply a shaliach of Hashem.

Esther demonstrated that, even in a situation where she could have easily served her own personal interests as queen, she instead rightfully attributed the boon to the mostly hidden Mordechai, she thereby became worthy of becoming the protagonist of our cherished Purim story. Shifting the credit all to her uncle, Esther showed that she was clearly capable of highlighting the cardinal message of the scroll named for her.

Even if Hashem’s Name is not mentioned a single time in the Megillah; even if Hashem’s Divine Presence is concealed throughout the tale; and even if there are no overt miracles pointing to His obvious omnipresent Hand, acharei kichlos hakol, the geulah is made possible only due to the King of all Kings. From start to finish, the world’s Divine puppeteer, kiveyachol, runs the entire show. And all the credit goes solely to Him.

Perhaps that is why we forever bestow the choice appellation of “Hamalkah” on Esther. She is regarded throughout our history as Esther Hamalkah, and, although she wrote the Megillah together with Mordechai, it is known simply in our Biblical canon as Megillas Esther. She is the queen and it is her story. The yesod of malchus, notes the Zohar in several places, is the lucid awareness of total bittul, utter subservience, before the Melech Malchei Hamelachim. Hence, the very word melech acts as an acronym for “leis megarmei klum” — there is no proud existential identity before the Al-mighty above. We are mere messengers in His service, tasked with being pure and sincere ovdei Hashem in carrying out His will.

And that was the essence of Esther — sheer bittul before Her Creator. A pure and pristine eved Hashem at her core. We tend to walk away from the Purim story elated with the demise of Haman and the redemption of our people. Rightfully so. But we sometimes forget that Esther ultimately spends the remainder of her life sequestered in the palace of the king, wed to the wicked Achashveirosh — somewhat painfully alone, a life given over completely to the retzon Hashem. A personal tragedy, yes, but she carries henceforth the legacy of true greatness.

Only two seforim in all of Tanach — but two Megillos in Kesuvim — have a woman’s name as their title: Esther and Rus. What, perhaps, is the common thread woven through both?

Rus, as we know, also gave up everything to carry out Hashem’s ratzon (often conveyed through her righteous mother-in-law, Naomi). She left a home of opulence to convert as a sincere Jewess, only to then endure the tragic deaths of her husband, father-in-law, and brother-in-law, while falling into a new life seemingly destined for penury and anonymity. When she finally weds Boaz, the gadol hador, he tragically passes away the very night of their marriage. But at least she conceives a child — only to then watch from the sidelines as her mother-in-law’s neighbors and friends name her child, and it is Naomi who is given her child to raise. Rus’s name is even glaringly omitted from the last nine pesukim of the Megillah.

And yet it is Rus who is regarded as the esteemed “Ima Shel Malchus,” the matriarch of the Davidic dynasty (Bava Basra 91b). Indeed the name “Rus” itself, relates Rav Yochanan (Berachos 7b), says nothing at all about her; rather, her very essence is defined through Dovid, referred to as the “melech Yisrael chai v’kayam” (Rosh Hashanah 25a).

Esther Hamalkah and Rus, Ima Shel Malchus. Two truly remarkable women who demonstrated, through their self-sacrifice, what a spiritual life of leis megarmei klum is all about. Total bittul atzmi resulted in earning the crowning titles of majesty and kingship. And descending into history as the lone two women meriting to have Megillos in the Biblical canon named for them. Esther was thus called, one opinion claims (Megillah 13a), because she was like the “sihara,” the moon. And Rus’s descendant Dovid’s malchus is always likened to the moon. The moon, of course, has no light of its own; it merely reflects the radiant light of the sun. Esther and Rus, with ties to the moon, are the two heroines with intrinsic ties to the essence of what true malchus is all about.

Having just read Megillas Esther and having reexperienced the geulah of Purim, we are now imminently approaching the month of Nissan, the zeman mesugal for the ultimate Geulah (Rosh Hashanah 11a). And we also now find ourselves in the midst of a war with, lo and behold, none other than Iran, our adversary descended from the notorious Paras of old. How are we to emerge victorious, to vanquish our enemies and earn the Divine protection of the Shomer Yisrael — to be worthy recipients of a grandiose geulah once again?

Let us never forget the lesson of Esther Hamalkah: Abandon the kochi v’otzem yadi. Totally. It is not the Iron Dome protecting us, but Hashem’s mei’ein Ananei Hakavod. It is not “David’s Sling” shielding us, but — to quote Dovid himself with sling over shoulder as he marched toward Goliyas — “I am coming to you b’Sheim Hashem Tzevakos Elokei ma’archos Yisrael” (Shmuel I, 17:45).

In between Purim and Pesach, in our insatiable quest for a geulah sheleimah once and for all, don’t pay attention to Hashem’s pawns — the nominal presidents and prime ministers, manmade B-2 bombers, fighter jets, and guided missiles. Attribute all success and salvation solely to the One Above. If we proudly proclaim instead, “va’anachnu b’Sheim Hashem Elokeinu nazkir” (Tehillim 20:8), then indeed we will soon merit the realization of the end of that perek: “Hashem hoshia, haMelech ya’aneinu b’yom kareinu!”

Rabbi Eytan Feiner is the Rav of Congregation Kneseth Israel, better known as the renowned “White Shul,” located in Far Rockaway, New York, and also serves as the Rav of Chai Lifeline’s Camp Simcha.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1103)