The Plot to Capture Purim

Though Purim has come and gone, its joyous spirit lingers long enough for us to take the hint. What might that be? Simple. It's waiting for an invitation to remain and spend Shabbat with us.

Done!

Who would refuse such a joyful guest bursting at the seams with its infectious raucousness?

The opening phrase of this week's Torah portion is the commandment to conduct a census of the Jews in the wilderness. The verse "Ki Sisa Es Rosh Bnai Yisroel" means "when you count the Jewish people...etc."

The literal meaning, however, is altogether different: "When You Lift Up the Heads of the Jewish people."

This week as I'm hearing the words of the commandment to count the people being read in the Torah, I will imagine a gnome-like Venusian Purim saint whispering the simultaneous literal version, softly at first, then gaining steam and powerless to rein it in, surrenders to its own exuberance. At its peak, it begins to dance. The wild movements transport and release an atomic excerpt of its quintessential self. Swirling dervish-like, spinning itself outward, it gains momentum until there is no resistance and every obstacle is absorbed up into its imposing vortex. Imagine that—Joy itself, being Joyful. The alchemy of Purim glee mixed in with the peaceful serenity of Shabbat results in a cocktail of bliss, unlike anything we've ever drunk before.

Not wanting to let this slip away, I scheme. Using the element of surprise, I plan to capture this joy the moment I hear the initial whisper "Lift up your head, my child"—before the power of its ensuing crescendo renders it too volatile to contain.

Weird. OK, whatever.