In a world obsessed with the showy and superficial, Esther reminds us of the power of the internal

Es chatasi ani mazkir hayom.

When I was growing up, we had a TV, a very small TV, but still a TV… until one day, when my mother decided enough is enough. She picked it up and intentionally dropped it on the floor. Presto, no more TV!

But as we know, mitzvah goreres mitzvah. One good deed begets another, and we children suddenly become very machmir on the mitzvah of visiting our Oma… who just happened to have a TV. Go figure. At the time there was a very popular show featuring two fellows, a very large bellicose, bombastic man named Ralph, and his sidekick, Norton, a skinny guy with a beat-up hat.

Whenever we read in the Megillah, “lehiyos kol ish soreir b’veiso” I imagine Ralphie belting out those words. “I’m the ruler of this home! The king of this castle! The BOSS MAN!” (and his wife totally ignoring him).

But I cannot imagine how Achashveirosh’s executive order was implemented. Picture the scene in Shushan after Haman (Memuchan) gives his “expert” advice to the king. A royal decree is proclaimed: “Lehiyos kol ish….” A husband walks in, and his wife asks him to take out the trash. “Oh yeah?” he responds, “I’m the king of this castle… by law!”

“Really?” she counters. “Prosecute me, or sleep on the couch!”

The irony is everywhere. Haman, the “Alpha” male behind the decree, gets his feelings hurt by Mordechai and what does he do? He runs home to whine to his wife, Zeresh. She tells him to build a gallows, and he — the great “ruler of his home” — dutifully does exactly what she says.

Back to Achashveirosh: He makes a contest to find a replacement wife, a nice subservient one, who won’t give him a hard time. And what happens? He chooses one who refuses to even tell him where she is from! But even more, his new queen manipulates him and gets him to do exactly what she wants. Some “soreir b’veiso” !

Behind the comedy, however, lies a profound lesson. The Midrash tells us that when Achashveirosh wished to show off Vashti’s beauty, he in fact commanded her to appear unclothed. What do Chazal mean to convey by emphasizing this point?

To understand this, we go back to Gan Eden. Before the sin, Adam and Chavah, as the handiwork of Hashem, were unfathomably beautiful. But once they ate from the Eitz Hadaas, they were suddenly aware of the fact that they were unclothed. Why? Because at this point, their external beauty did not reflect their internal corruption. They were living a lie. This internal corruption was not just a function of transgressing the prohibition against eating from the Eitz Hadaas; rather, it resulted from the very nature of the sin. To explain:

Adam and Chavah were told to enjoy everything in Gan Eden with one exception — the Eitz Hadaas. The serpent entices them to eat from it by saying, “for Hashem knows that on the day you eat from it you will be k’Elokim, yodei tov v’ra — like Hashem, knowers of good and bad.”

What does that even mean?

How is “good” and “bad” determined? Simply: If Hashem wants something, it is good, and if He does not, it is bad. By virtue of Hashem’s decision, objective good and bad is decided. Man cannot determine that, which is precisely why Hashem prohibited Adam and Chavah from eating from the Eitz Hadaas. It was meant to serve as a continuous reminder to them that when it comes to the ultimate determination — good from bad — this is completely Hashem’s domain. But that is exactly what Adam wanted, to be the final arbiter of good and bad, like Elokim. Of course, it did not work; Adam gains the subjective sense of good and bad, but that does not reflect reality.

Adam’s perception of the world is now corrupted. He can no longer instinctively distinguish between that which is actually “good and bad” and that which appears to be good and bad. The superficial may seem good and attractive but in reality be bad. Adam is now suddenly humiliated by his state of being unclothed — not only because he has committed a crime, but because his entire perception of the world is fraught with fraud.

A “lie” is simply when the presentation doesn’t match the reality. Whenever that happens, the liar is embarrassed and uncomfortable, a phenomenon that at times can be sensed by a lie detector. After Adam and Chavah ate from the Eitz Hadaas, they realized that something was off. They were embarrassed, so they felt the need to cover up.

By ordering his wife to appear unclothed, Achashveirosh was denying that this embarrassment exists. He attempted to undo this effect, saying that in effect, the only reality is the superficial. There is no other underlying truth, and there is nothing to be embarrassed about — so he commands his wife to appear unclothed.

“Lehiyos kol ish soreir b’veiso!” was his rallying cry. Men are in charge. Not just of their wives but of everything — what I say goes; my subjective desires dictate reality. That which is external is beautiful. Nothing else matters.

Then comes Esther. She is the ultimate tzanuah who even refuses cosmetics. Her very name, Esther, conveys concealment and privacy. The Megillah tells us “Ein Esther magedes moladeta — Esther did not even reveal her origins.” She is the ultimate manifestation of the internal. In a world obsessed with the loud, the bombastic, the showy and superficial, Esther epitomizes the power of the internal. She was the tikkun for Chavah. While Chavah’s choice led to a confusion of external and internal beauty, Esther’s external grace is quite clearly nothing more than a manifestation of her internal truth.

When she finally approaches the king, she says, “Im tovah ani b’einav — If I am good in your eyes.” She wasn’t just asking if she looked attractive; she was reorienting him. She was saying, “If you value me, then you see that the superficial is misleading. Haman (whose very name is cognate to the Eitz Hadaas — hamin haeitz) is evil, and my people are good.” She used the “hidden” to reveal the “true.” This reorientation reverberates. Soon after the Purim miracle, Darius, Achashveirosh’s son and successor (and according to one Midrash, the son of Esther), commissions the rebuilding of the Second Beis Hamikdash.

We navigate in a world that tells us to be loud to be heard, to be an “influencer,” to focus on the surface to be valued. But Purim teaches us that the real “ruler of the house” — and the world — is the one aligned with Hashem’s eternal and underlying truth. The more we turn away from the world’s celebration of externality, the more the internal is allowed to flourish and shine through.

Esther demonstrates that there is no need for a royal decree to be powerful. Quite the contrary. Real power resides in the quiet dignity that lies within us.

A freilechen Purim!

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 983)