Last year, on the eve of the 23rd of Sivan, I wrote these words: "The names are different. The weapons are more advanced. But the story? The story hasn't changed."
I didn't know how right I was.
I'm writing this on the 23rd of Sivan, 5786. And as I type, right now, Israel is striking Iran.
Persia. Again.
Last year I said we'd seen this before. I told you we knew how it ends. I pointed to the second decree, written on this very date by Mordechai, dispatched across 127 provinces, authorizing the Jewish people to assemble, to defend, and to strike.
That decree is no longer being written.
It's being executed.
Khamenei is dead. The modern-day Haman, the man who spent decades preaching about and funding our destruction, arming our enemies, chanting for our annihilation, is gone.
Then it was Haman. Today it was Khamenei.
Same name. Same goal. Same fate.
And yet the story isn't finished. We are still inside the reversal, we can feel it, but our modern day Purim hasn't arrived just yet.
Which means that we're living in the most electric chapter of the Megillah. The part where Haman is already dead, the decree has been issued, but the 13th of Adar hasn't come yet.
The Jewish people are arming. The riders are riding. And soon the world will finally understand what Zeresh, Haman's wife, understood the moment her husband came home humiliated: "If Mordechai is of the seed of the Jews you will not prevail against him."
But here's what's different this year.
Last year, I noted that the United States might join the fight. That the modern-day Achashverosh, volatile, self-interested, but potentially a powerful ally, might lend his seal to the second decree. And in the end he did.
But this year, he remains on the sidelines, for now.
And yet Israel didn't wait.
The current strikes on Iran were launched without Trump's blessing. The Jewish people acted not because the king gave permission, but because the moment demanded it. Because when Persia is firing missiles and the 23rd of Sivan arrives, you don't wait for a royal seal.
Achashverosh is not the hero of the Purim story. He's the backdrop, a pawn, albeit a powerful one. An instrument. The door that God opens when the time is right, not when the king feels like it.
Mordechai and Esther didn't wait to be saved. They moved. They maneuvered. And when the moment came, they acted.
But we should be honest about something. If we had done it right last year, would we be here this year? The Megillah doesn't let us off the hook so easily. The rabbis tell us that Mordechai himself paid a price. The great men of his generation distanced themselves from him and he lost stature in the Sanhedrin.
Engaging the political world costs something. Yet he still did it. Because someone had to.
That's what we're watching now. But the figure I keep coming back to isn't Mordechai. It's Esther.
Mordechai saw clearly and pushed. But Esther is the one who walked into the king's chamber uninvited, without knowing the outcome. No guarantee. No promise. Just three days of fasting, a nation's prayers behind her, and a decision to move forward anyway.
She didn't ask what would happen. She trusted Who was running it. HaMelech. The real King.
"If I perish, I perish."
That is the faith that drives this story forward. Not the political calculation. Not the military strategy. Not even the courage of soldiers. All of that matters. But underneath it, holding it all up, is the one who moves without fear of the what, because her trust in the Who is complete.
We are still waiting for that door to open fully. Achashverosh is on the sidelines. The 13th of Adar has not yet come. But the riders are riding, and God is writing.
Last year I said that we know how this ends and I still believe that, now more than ever.
But we're not there yet. The war continues. The decree is being executed province by province, missile by missile. And next year on the 23rd of Sivan, God willing, we'll look back to this moment we’re living in, in the same way we look back at every story whose outcome frightened us.
Another chapter in the same story. Another proof that the arc bends toward redemption.
Same date. Same region. Same seed of Mordechai.
And the same God is still writing the story.
ככה ייעשה לאיש אשר המלך חפץ ביקרו. Thus it occurs to he whom the King wishes to honor.
This is what happens when the King of the Universe chooses to honor His people.
He keeps choosing us. Year after year. Decree after decree.
And He will never stop.