Secrets of Queen Esther Street

Welcome to a little street named for Queen Esther Street in the southern neighborhood of Baka in Jerusalem, leading into the longer street next door - named after Moredchai.

But that was not always been these streets’ names.

This was once a Palestinian suburb of Jerusalem’s old city, with stately homes mostly owned by wealthy Christian, who all fled in 1948. Some of them, likely, not of their own will.

Now it’s a Jewish neighborhood that still retains its Arabic name, Ba’ka, the valley, and it’s a favorite bubble of American Israelis, with quiet cafes and boutiques.

When we’ll get to the end of Esther we’ll get to the part in which Mordechai inherits Haman’s house and the tables are turned as enemies of the Jews become their victims. It’s not the same of course, as life and art don’t always imitate each other and yet it’s impossible to read Esther in 2025 and not reflect on what this story means for many people who are living its legacy if they don’t know of it at all.

The biblical story of Esther is likely fake news. It never really happened. But its imprint on our lives, on the lives of generations is as important as any other history or myth.

Robert Alter wrote that Esther, more than most biblical books, was written as faux history - with

“ an effort to impart an effect of authentic history to a narrative that is actually woven of fantastic invention.”

And although Esther is a work of fiction and really good literature, an actual page turner, its lasting legacy on our collective psyche includes terrible terror, our intergenerational traumas, our biggest fears and our deepest hopes. Purim according to some traditions will be the last holiday standing, along with Yom Kippur - a sacred time for transformation, reconciliation and repair.

There’s a lot to fix.

Just over ten years ago, right near here in Jerusalem, one of our kids, 3 years old, came home from pre K during the week before Purim, with a coloring book of the story of Esther. It had a pretty queen and a fat king, good guy grinding on a horse, bad guy frowning having to lead the horse, big party scenes and triangle cookies. And then there was a page with ten kids hanging from a tree. What?

When I confronted the teacher the next day,livid, this young religious woman looked at me with surprise and even scorn- but it’s in the scroll! That’s the story.. They are three years old! I responded. She shrugged.

These days, mid ongoing war, this kind of callous racist attitude is tragically rampant in the streets of Israel, and deadly in the bombed out streets of Gaza.

The victimhood of generations has left a stamp upon the Jewish story that must readjust itself at times when Jews are not diaspora displaced and powerless but a sovereign state with great power of its own. The fantasy of Esther even with its bloody end of massacre and hanging of the enemy's children can not be a blueprint for anything that guides political policy, religious ideology or popular belief in power over peace or the way one people can control another in order to survive. The scroll of Esther is a story that belongs in our hallowed halls of history and myth, museums and art, but never to be emulated as recipes and roadmaps for taking out our legitimate fears on others who deserve the same dignity and safety as we and all people do.

Can our sacred scriptures guide us to grow out of fear and towards trust? Can we talk back to our texts of terror and trauma and resolve to solve the either/or dilemmas with creative ways that honor both/and attitudes to life, pursuing peace, avoiding harm and celebrating love, justice and dignity for all?

Of course they can. And yes, we can aspire higher and do everything we can to bring about much better days. Hope is a muscle. Peace will prevail.

Thank you for joining me below the bible belt. Next week - four more chapters of Esther, and the first chapter of Daniel, as we head into Passover, Easter and more sacred stories that remind us that oppression never lasts and hope resurrects, again and again.

Shabbat Shalom.