Women's Megillah Reading

I've been meaning for awhile to post about the women's megillah reading here in Englewood this year. This is the second year they've done it, my first reading with the group. I got to do the first section of chapter 5 for my third time.

The first time I did chapter 5 was at Oberlin and I read the whole thing, but didn't much understand how so I just stumbled. Second time was last year and I did fewer verses. This year was 9 verses and I felt much more confident. I understand better what it should sound like, how to practice, how to recover after errors etc. I also am more familiar now with the text, what it means, and how it is expressed in the trope sounds. (The melody we use to chant it.)

It's such a good experience to read in this context for so many reasons. I think many people misread women's readings as being some type of reactionary gesture against traditional readings. But it's not that at all, at least not for most people. It's an opportunity for awe. Every week so many men have the experience of reading at the Torah. I suspect that many feel a sense of awe when they approach, especially if they don't get to as often or if they are newer to Judaism in some way. But I also know it is possible to slip into rote practice with the Torah. (I do not at all oppose this. Duty is more important than getting a spiritual high.)

But only three times a year in this community do we get to read publicly from a text... Megillat Esther at Purim, Breishit (Genesis) at Simchat Torah, and Eichah (Lamentations) at Tisha B'Av. It takes so much work to prepare if you are not accustomed to doing it, and each of the women puts so much care into it. I was sitting close enough to the megillah to see that the Yad (the pointer) was often shaking in the hands of the reader. I found that beautiful, like shaking at Mount Sinai.

There was also something lovely about leaving the chaotic and fun Purim setting in which the kids are having so much fun, in which there is chaotic but appropriate drinking, merriment, costumes and more, and enterring this somewhat more serious atmosphere of the women's reading. It is essential that listeners hear every single word of the megillah. This is not always easy when every time the villain's name is mentioned we shout and use noisemakers to drown out his memory. But in the women's reading, which was still light and festive, there was no doubt that we heard every word.

And beyond the experience of just enjoying the presence of other women, women are a crucial element of the story of Purim. There is so much to the interactions between men and women in the story -- from when the king has his wife, Vashti, executed so that all "wives will give honor to their husbands", to Esther's quiet bravery and enormous sacrifice.

Incidentally, I've never known what to make of that part in the story about wives giving honor to their husbands. It just now occurs to me what a downfall it is for men to demand honor from other's. That is, after all, what happens to Haman when he demands honor from Mordechai. Does Mordechai, the Jew, represent all of us Jews metaphorically as women, not demanding honor but only giving honor where it is deserved, to God?

I'm a little uncertain about that last idea, but it seems consistent. Let me know what you think.

Now I'm almost looking forward to this summer when we read Eichah. What a completely different atmosphere that will be. From absolute joy to utter grief. It's all part of what God has given us.