By Max Hollander
(יט) עַל־כֵּ֞ן הַיְּהוּדִ֣ים (הפרוזים) [הַפְּרָזִ֗ים] הַיֹּשְׁבִים֮ בְּעָרֵ֣י הַפְּרָזוֹת֒ עֹשִׂ֗ים אֵ֠ת י֣וֹם אַרְבָּעָ֤ה עָשָׂר֙ לְחֹ֣דֶשׁ אֲדָ֔ר שִׂמְחָ֥ה וּמִשְׁתֶּ֖ה וְי֣וֹם ט֑וֹב וּמִשְׁלֹ֥חַ מָנ֖וֹת אִ֥ישׁ לְרֵעֵֽהוּ׃ {ס}
(19) That is why village Jews, who live in unwalled towns, observe the fourteenth day of the month of Adar and make it a day of merrymaking and feasting, and as a holiday and an occasion for sending gifts to one another.
One of the core mitzvot that make up the Purim celebration is the thoughtful and intentional gifting of food items, referred to as “mishloach manot.” On the surface, gift baskets don’t seem to carry tremendous spiritual significance, but this act of kindness is actually intrinsic to the main lesson of Purim — learning how to stick together after challenging circumstances seek to tear us apart, particularly through connecting with the people in our lives who DON’T need us.
I realized this aspect of Purim when I lived in Israel and shared a cab with a stranger who, upon seeing my kippah, felt comfortable aggressively sharing his opinion of Jews with me over the course of the drive.
He told me a story about a rabbi who approached him with a gift basket on Purim — presumably a mishloah manot basket — and insisted on giving it to him. The man told me that he’d yelled at the rabbi, refusing the basket and insisting on him giving it to a poor person instead. While he didn’t seem to actually be interested in an answer, he repeatedly and loudly asked me why someone would give him a gift when there are other people who may need it more than him.
וְכֵן חַיָּב אָדָם לִשְׁלֹחַ שְׁתֵּי מְנוֹת בָּשָׂר אוֹ שְׁנֵי מִינֵי תַּבְשִׁיל אוֹ שְׁנֵי מִינֵי אֳכָלִין לַחֲבֵרוֹ שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (אסתר ט יט) "וּמִשְׁלוֹחַ מָנוֹת אִישׁ לְרֵעֵהוּ", שְׁתֵּי מָנוֹת לְאִישׁ אֶחָד. וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לִשְׁלֹחַ לְרֵעִים מְשֻׁבָּח. וְאִם אֵין לוֹ מַחֲלִיף עִם חֲבֵרוֹ זֶה שׁוֹלֵחַ לְזֶה סְעֻדָּתוֹ וְזֶה שׁוֹלֵחַ לְזֶה סְעֻדָּתוֹ כְּדֵי לְקַיֵּם וּמִשְׁלוֹחַ מָנוֹת אִישׁ לְרֵעֵהוּ:
Similarly, a person is obligated to send two portions of meat, two other cooked dishes, or two other foods to a friend, as implied by Esther 9:22, "sending portions of food one to another" - i.e., two portions to one friend. Whoever sends portions to many friends is praiseworthy. If one does not have the means to send presents of food to a friend, one should exchange one's meal with him, each one sending the other what they had prepared for the Purim feast and in this way fulfill the mitzvah of sending presents of food to one's friends.
At the time, I didn’t know what to say, and I was a bit too intimidated by his aggression to answer anyway. But looking back, I wish I had been able to explain to him that, first, the rabbi in his story had likely already given charity that day to fulfill the mitzvah of matanot l’evyonim. (One of Purim’s central mitzvot is to give charity on Purim.) Second, I would have explained the holiday’s significance he was missing.
וְחַיָּב לְחַלֵּק לָעֲנִיִּים בְּיוֹם הַפּוּרִים. אֵין פּוֹחֲתִין מִשְּׁנֵי עֲנִיִּים נוֹתֵן לְכָל אֶחָד מַתָּנָה אַחַת אוֹ מָעוֹת אוֹ מִינֵי תַּבְשִׁיל אוֹ מִינֵי אֳכָלִין שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (אסתר ט כב) "וּמַתָּנוֹת לָאֶבְיוֹנִים", שְׁתֵּי מַתָּנוֹת לִשְׁנֵי עֲנִיִּים. וְאֵין מְדַקְדְּקִין בִּמְעוֹת פּוּרִים אֶלָּא כָּל הַפּוֹשֵׁט יָדוֹ לִטּל נוֹתְנִין לוֹ. וְאֵין מְשַׁנִּין מָעוֹת פּוּרִים לִצְדָקָה אַחֶרֶת:
One is obligated to distribute charity to the poor on the day of Purim. At the very least, to give each of two poor people one present, be it money, cooked dishes, or other foods, as implied by Esther 9:22 "gifts to the poor" - i.e., two gifts to two poor people.We should not be discriminating in selecting the recipients of these Purim gifts. Instead, one should give to whomever stretches out his hand. Money given to be distributed on Purim should not be used for other charitable purposes.
In the Purim story, the Jewish people face yet another existential threat but are saved through a series of fortunate events. Still, while miraculous, surviving catastrophes of any kind can be an isolating experience and take a toll on our mental and physical health. Threats or perceived threats to our safety can affect our ability to function. There is no one “right” response to trauma. It can cause us to focus inward and solely on our own well-being as we try to recover from what we experienced, or it can cause us to lose focus on ourselves. We move between the daily tasks of life as our brain keeps us from thinking about the traumatic event. Of course, healing is necessary after trauma, but overdoing it can lead to more anguish as survivors either suffer in silence or neglect the suffering of others in similar circumstances. To account for that, the proscriptions of Purim make the holiday a day dedicated to crafting intentional communities and a sense of peoplehood. The practice of mishloach manot forces us to look outward, see other members of our community and express our love and care for them, strengthening our communal connectedness. Maimonides, in his code of Jewish Law, goes so far as to say that even people who don't have the means to offer loved ones mishloach manot should exchange their meals with others and maintain their connection to each other.
We don’t only preserve community by taking care of our most unfortunate community members when they need us; we do so by also showing the people in our lives we care about them even when they don’t need us. We can’t just ensure the poorest among us don’t fall through the cracks; we must also strive to ensure those closest to us don’t drift away. This balance between matanot l’evyonim (gifts to the poor) and mishloach manot (gifts to our friends) is what nurtures community, and community is what nurtures us in the aftermath of intense challenges and trauma.
Download our resource for our Mental Health Mishloach Manot Activity.
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