Sermon: Clothing, Mirrors and Misogyny: Tetzaveh and Purim.
When I was 9 years old I dressed up in a bear onesie, and made a rather crude mask of cardboard. It is the most successful costume I’ve ever created, and I wore it for the whole day, refusing to take it off even after I won a prize. The feeling I remember most, however, was that my teacher did not recognise who it was behind the mask. That sense of achievement, of fooling my teacher, was intoxicating. When I finally revealed myself to the teacher at the very end of the day, she was greatly surprised. With adult hindsight, I now realise that she probably had guessed who it was but to my nine year old self it was amazing to be able to hide behind a mask, and not be recognised. It was a really powerful experience of realising the difference clothes can make.
Costume and what we wear are central themes this shabbat, both in the story from the Torah that Naomi read to us, but also in the topsy turvy story of Queen Esther which we read during Purim in the next few days.
Our Torah story is focused on the minute details of the symbolic ritual clothing/uniform of the high priest; the colourful robes, tunics, headdresses, sashes, and layers of gold and precious stones. Though it is easy to be blinded by the glitter and gold of this ancient ‘red carpet’ event, it is not about elevating Aaron as a person, he is, instead, stepping into a role. It's about taking a job, and what he wears reflects how he can represent and help his people in that function. The clothes do maketh the man in this particular portion (as Shakespeare would have said).
And the theme of clothes is also prevalent in the story of Esther - she has to wear special royal garb to meet the king, Mordechai wears sackcloth and ashes after having found out about Haman's murderous plot. Haman is mortified when he has to parade Mordechai around in beautiful clothing after the plot of Bightan and Teresh has been foiled. And Queen Vashti refuses to go before the kings and his men, because she is, according to some, asked to wear nothing BUT the crown. Clothes, or the lack of them, are more than just adornments, they are essential to the story.
“Clothing is part of the language of society. Our fashion communicates a great deal about our values, priorities and identity. As both the Torah portion and the book of Esther might say, The clothes do in fact make the man or woman” as one rabbi puts it.
When Purim falls near this Shabbat, the story of Esther also highlights something else in the Torah portion - the lack of women from the Torah narrative. Women are mentioned in the donation of items for the Tabernacle, but the only mention we have of women engaging in the rituals or the creation of these important symbols of the nation are two obscure references to female artisans who spins blue, purple and crimson yarn (Ex.35.25-6), as well as the “women who performed tasks at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting” (Ex.38.8). That’s the only mention of women’s involvement in the making of the priest's clothing or the tabernacle itself, something that goes on for more than 13 chapters in the Torah.
From this we cannot definitively say that women were not involved as artisans, designers etc, but the text is resolutely focused on the male sphere here. Which is why its juxtaposition to the Book of Esther is so important. Both are stories about how to live in difficult circumstances, one in the wilderness, the other in an urbane setting. But where they diverge is the message of Esther and Mordechai: men AND women together save the day.
A woman is at the centre of the Purim story, which is somewhat astonishing as compared to most of the books in the Hebrew Bible, even if the Book of Esther does not pass the Bechdel test. That test is a way to focus on the representation (or lack of it) of women in film and fiction. The main question it asks is whether at least two women have a conversation together, that is about something else than a man. Had Vashti spoken about her next career move after she became a free agent and no longer queen, or how Vashti could supervise Esther, the story would be on more solid ground. Hardly any of the biblical stories pass this test, and yet, the Book of Esther has an important role in our tradition/Jewish Bookshelf.
For it is in this book, towards the very end, that we have a description of a woman writing. “Then Queen Esther daughter of Abihail wrote a second letter of Purim for the purpose of confirming with full authority the aforementioned one of Mordecai the Jew” (Esther 9.29). That might seem like a minor thing, but it is astonishingly rare to find a woman writing. And especially in a book where nearly all of the lengthy descriptions of women have to do with their looks, that they are shapely, beautiful, and virgins. They are given seven maids to prepare them before they meet the king, as the text says; “for that was the period spent on beautifying them: six months with oil of myrrh and six months with perfumes and women’s cosmetics” (Esther 2.12). Imagine a woman’s worth measured only in her physical appearance, even after the comedy aspect of spending 12 months getting ready for one night.
But there is a deeper and more painful truth here that sadly is all too relevant for our young people in particular. There’s a growing awareness of how extreme derogatory coded language is spreading from dark corners of the internet into everyday social media use, using words that specifically undermine women and girls, and turn them/us into sexual objects, or little more than animals. Most of us adults don't know or understand the language that is being used, and that is being normalised but it is common and rife, and young people see it flood their social media whether they like it or not. A recent article in the Guardian by a 15 year old girl showed just how incomprehensible to us yet, extreme the language is.
She writes; “ Often it feels like we’re hated not only if we’re sexual but simply for existing…. One of the worst labels is “foid” – originally from incel subculture but now becoming mainstream – which refers to women as being less-than-human, female humanoids. And what is the effect? If I spend even 10 minutes on an app such as Instagram, I will close it, feeling disheartened and unhappy about being a girl. When nearly every comments section on a video of a girl my age is filled with disgusting and objectifying comments about her body from boys, it causes me to feel deeply uncomfortable in my own body, and compare myself to her; especially if she is beautiful and still being deemed unattractive. Endless emphasis on beauty as worth and all kinds of videos criticising specific features, some of which I possess, have made me start to loathe my own face, as difficult as that is to admit. But the worst thing is knowing how much hate there is from men and boys for all women and girls, including me”.
On the one hand we live in better times, than previously, with more equality and financial, social and legal agency (since 1975 women could open bank accounts, apply for loans, and obtain credit cards in their own name) and yet there’s a dark underbelly that threatens not only women and girls, but all of us who care about equality and respect, no matter our gender. And it plays on looks, on sexuality, and on what we wear.
In the Purim story Esther is at first reluctant to speak up, fearing for her own safety if she is to break royal protocol and go in front of the king without an invitation. And she is also fearful, for she will have to break cover and be honest about who she is, and hope that the king takes her side, and not Haman’s.
And it raises the question for us, are we reluctant to hear what our young people are telling us? Is the idea of changing access to social media too inconceivable? Do we benefit too much from it ourselves? Are we reluctant to speak up? Changes are being considered by the government about social media and the youth, partly because of the ban in Australia, but also because of a growing awareness and worry in this country. But it is not going fast enough.
When Esther speaks up, her words are devastating; “The adversary and enemy,” replied Esther, “is this evil Haman!” And Haman cringed in terror before the king and the queen”, it says in chapter seven. The adversary and enemy today is not a single person, even if we can name a few infamous people who spread hatred towards women. But we can’t point and say ‘that one is the enemy’.
The young anonymous 15 year old girl who wrote the article is asking us to become aware, to act where we can, whether that is talking to young people in our lives about what they experience, or what language they themselves use in person and online, We need to be curious about the coded language that is being used and ask questions, and to call out this behaviour when used around us.
The Book of Esther is like a mirror, it helps us see more clearly issues of gender roles, in the Torah, in our tradition, but also in our lives today. To have a woman taking charge, women and men working together, and a woman writing, helps us see the story of Esther differently, and in turn ourselves too.
The Purim story asks deep and serious questions for us about gender, equality, and respect. At times it’s a warped mirror, like the concave mirrors in amusement parks, showing only distorted images. At other times it is a mirror that shows us and our tradition in startling clarity. How we respond to what we see is the real question.
Shabbat shalom and Purim Sameach.
