(look for lecture on www.naaleh.com)          

 Judaism is the only religion that incorporates both the solar year and the lunar year into one unified calendar. However, the solar and lunar years have a discrepancy of eleven days. Therefore, in order to synchronize the two years so that Pesach, the holiday of renewal, always comes at the ordained spring season of renewal, it is necessary to add a month to the year every few years creating a “pregnant year.” The month added is always an additional Adar immediately preceding the month of Pesach. Adding this month puts the sun and the moon in alignment for the calendar. The questions become, however, what does a leap year teach us and alternately demand of us. How are the two Adars to be interpreted in our lives so that the different aspects of our being will become aligned?

            In order to explore these questions, we must acknowledge that each individual is a small world unto himself. The sun and the moon, therefore, symbolize different areas of one’s personal world.

            Orah Rivka Weingert, in Ohr Halvanah, quotes Reb Tzadok that symbolically interprets the sun to represent the intellect of man while the moon represents his emotional aspect. The intellect is logic, clarity, precision as the sun brings clarity to the world with its light and its precise orbits around the earth. The moon, on the other hand, is unclear, and waxes and wanes, much as one’s emotions cannot be defined and often swing between highs and lows. Our task, continues Ohr Halvanah, is to balance the two so that we will not only know Hashem intellectually but also have that knowledge permanently settle on our hearts, as the verse states, “And  you will know today, and you will implant it (return it) to your heart.”

            Rav Tzadok connects this idea to the designation of a “pregnant” year. The intellect may refer to the father while the emotions would refer to the mother. To create a healthy child, the two must come together appropriately. We may know intellectually that loshon horo, for example, is prohibited, but we may get so caught up in our desire to share this one little tidbit that we can no longer restrain ourselves. But the “pregnant” year teaches us that we must marry the two and use heart and mind appropriately. By working on our middos, says the Kotzker Rebbe, we make ourselves less egocentric and more sensitive so that our intellect and emotions can better synchronize. Alternately, suggests Rav Gedaliah Schorr, is that we increase and strengthen our knowledge of Hashem until it becomes absolute, so that it will become impossible, actually foolish in our own minds, to do anything contrary to His wishes. This knowledge, continues Rabbi Schorr, cannot be acquired in quick information bytes with little attention span. Rather, it must be acquired through deep attention over extended periods of time until it becomes an integral part of our being.

            There is no question, continues Rabbi Schorr, that we are today blessed with an abundance of knowledge never before known to man. But this knowledge has come at a cost. We are so used to going from information to information that we seldom take the time to integrate that information into our lives. We may understand the meaning of every word in Tehillim, even to esoteric allusions, but how many of us can still cry as we recite the Tehillim, as our perhaps less learned grandmothers did. They took the Tehillim to their hearts; do we?

            Further, Rabbi Gamliel Rabinovitch tells us that the absolute faith that comes from clear knowledge affects one’s emotions and gives one hope even in the direst circumstances. This is the power inherent in Megillat Esther, for, as its name implies, it reveals that which is hidden, the presence of Hakodosh Boruch Hu. That knowledge must permeate our being not just on Purim but all year round, for with that knowledge, we achieve emotional stability. This faith, then, brings us the joy that enters with our salvation in the month of Adar and should permeate the entire year.

            This is the message we can learn from the mazal of Adar, its zodiac sign, Pisces, fish. The Sheveli Pinchas notes that the two fish, eyes wide open, are facing each other, not lined up one behind the other. In nature, a larger fish stalks its prey and consumes the little fish head first. The smart little fish, sensing danger, turns tail and swims away, relying on a superior Power to save him. The foolish fish who believes since his eyes are wide open to danger at all times, he can face the danger and overcome it on his own, will end up being consumed head first. We too must understand that it is not our personal prowess or our excellent planning that saves us or makes us successful, but only the hand of Hashem leading us, for we have no one on whom to rely except on our Father in heaven. When we rely on our own vision and our own eyes, Hashem hides His face from us, but when we nullify ourselves before Him and rely solely on Him, Hashem reveals Himself and helps us.

            Rabbi Zev Leff gives us additional insights into the double Adar months and the fish as the symbol of Adar. We live in a large, conspicuous, materialistic world within which there is nevertheless a smaller, hidden spiritual world as an embryo is concealed within its mother. Our redemption from Egypt came in Nissan, after Adar, in the spring, when the physical world was undergoing rebirth and the spiritual world did the same through the miracles of Pesach. These two will again be in synchronization at the time of the final redemption.

            Purim provides us with a framework to achieving this harmony. The mitzvoth and the entire aura of Purim are basically physical and material. However, we take our food and drink and elevate them to a spiritual plane by using them in a festive meal to thank Hashem for our physical salvation. In a similar way, we must always try to elevate the physical and mundane to achieve spiritual heights.

            The Sifsei Chaim, citing theMaharal, teaches us that the link between the physical world, actuality, and the spiritual world, thought, is through the power of speech. One should therefore be circumspect in one’s speech, for the more one speaks, the more connected he becomes to the material world. However, speech and silence must also be balanced, for there is a time for silence as well as a time for speech. No one illustrates this concept more clearly than Modechai in Megillat Esther.

            The Sefas Emes discusses the verse of theMegillah that introduces us to Mordechai. Mordechai is described as ish Yehudi … ish yemini. The Sefas Emes asks, is Mordechai form Yehudah or from Binyamin. While Mordechai’s mother was from Yehudah and his father was from Binyamin, the Sefas Emes reconciles this problem by showing how Mordechai integrated the characteristics of the mothers of each of these tribes to become a proper vehicle for our salvation.

            Leah, the mother of Yehudah, knew very well how to utilize speech. She taught us to verbalize our thanks, especially to Hakodosh Boruch Hu by naming her fourth son to express her hodayah, her thanks, to Hashem. On the other hand, Binyamin’s mother Rachel had mastered the skill of silence. She had kept silent when her father substituted her sister for her under the marriage canopy so as not to embarrass Leah. Therefore, when this silent one raised her voice in heaven to cry for her children, Hashem listened to her.

            Mordechai had both of these skills and knew when each was appropriate. Although he knew by divine inspiration that Bnei Yisroel would be saved from Haman’s evil plans, he kept silent and did not reveal this to the people. Instead, he cried out with a great and bitter cry to arouse the people to use their speech in prayer and teshuvah. In his interaction with Esther as well, he showed he understood when silence, no matter how praiseworthy, would be inappropriate.

            Esther, the Medrash tells us, was agilgul, a reincarnation of Chava. Since Chava had sinned through eating, Esther wanted to achieve rectification through fasting, and commanded Mordechai to decree three days of fasting for all the Jews. Further, since her transgression was initiated through conversation with the serpent, she felt that perhaps now she should remain silent and not approach Ahashuerosh on behalf of her nation. But Mordechai corrected her. He told her that now is not the time for silence, “For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another place.” Mordechai taught Esther that there is indeed a time for silence, but there is also a time to speak.

            In a leap year, there is a small, private Purim in Adar I. Then the Megillah is read silently before the King in his own private celebration. The letter of the Megillah is read a second time, aloud in public celebration during Adar II when we feel ourselves again approaching that intimate relationship with Hashem when the spiritual and the physical worlds unite in harmony in the month of Nissan and we can raise our voices in joy.

            May we be zocheh to synchronize and align the physical and spiritual worlds through cultivating our knowledge of Hashem in our minds and in our hearts, and through having the wisdom to use the power of speech and the power of silence in their proper times so that we will bring the final redemption bimheirah biyomeinu. Amen.

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If you want to hear the orginal class said in Beis Keneses HaNasi ( in Rehavia ) download audio

Shira Smiles shiur l’iluy nishmat Lissie Fink - Esther Fayge

Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein