Purim – A Floor, But Not a Ceiling

Remember When? Purim, Playfulness, and Why You Should Dress Up This Year: A Parting Plea

This will be my eighth—and final—Purim blog post as Head of OJCS. Which means that if you’ve been following along over the years, I have spent almost an entire elementary school career trying to convince parents that Purim is not just for kids.

Why?

Every year, I make my impassioned plea: Purim is not just for children. It’s for you, too. And every year, I watch as parents cheerfully send their kids to school in full costume while they show up to Megillah reading in…business casual. Let’s take one final crack at trying to fix that.

Shabbat Zachor and the Art of Forgetting

This week, we read a special maftir (Deut. 25:17-19) for Shabbat Zachor in which we receive our annual reminder to “Remember what Amalek did to you.” And, paradoxically, to also “Blot out the memory of Amalek.” It’s an exercise in selective forgetting—we remember what we must, and we let go of what we don’t need.

Now, I’m not saying Purim is Amalek (though honestly, some store-bought costumes should be erased from history!). But I do think that we adults have a forgetting problem—not just in the Jewish memory sense, but in the “regular human” sense. We forget how to play. We forget what it feels like to dress up, be silly, make noise, and fully embrace joy for no other reason than because it’s fun.

Remember when you were a kid and Purim was the absolute best? When the most important question in February wasn’t about tax season, but about whether your costume was cool enough? When “going all out” didn’t feel cringey or embarrassing but was just what you did?

And then, somehow, you grew up, and now you’re the one saying, “Oh, Purim is for the kids.”

Purim as an Act of Defiance

Here’s the thing: Purim is, quite literally, a holiday about turning things upside down. It’s about disrupting the normal, flipping expectations, and making joy where there wasn’t any. And if that’s not the exact prescription we need right now, I don’t know what is.

Let’s be honest—the world feels pretty heavy these days. There’s plenty of darkness, and plenty of reasons to feel overwhelmed. Which is why Purim isn’t just about fun; it’s about resilience.

When we dress up, when we laugh loudly, when we lean fully into the absurdity of Purim, we are choosing joy as an act of renewal. We are reminding ourselves, and the world, that no matter what happens, we are still here, and we are still celebrating.

It’s not just play—it’s resistance. And, frankly, it’s a lot more fun than doomscrolling.

A Parting Personal Challenge to Parents

So here’s my ask—no, my challenge—to you, dear OJCS parents: This year, don’t just be a Purim facilitator. Be a Purim participant.

Dress up. Not just a token hat or a pair of oversized sunglasses. Go full costume. Channel your inner eight-year-old and go all in.
Make noise. Be louder than your kids during the Megillah reading. (Yes, you might embarrass them. That’s the point.)
Show up. To school, to shul, to all of it—not as an observer, but as someone actively playing along.
Be ridiculous. Lean into the silliness. You’re not “too old” for this. In fact, you’re exactly old enough to need it.

Let’s fill our spaces with laughter, with costumes, with unrestrained, uninhibited celebration.

And Now, a Practical Reminder: Ruach Week is Coming!

Next week is Shavuat Ha’Ruach—Ruach Week—our school’s annual lead-up to Purim. Each day will bring a different theme, a different excuse to dress up, and a different chance to remember what it feels like to just have fun. And it all culminates next Friday with Purim itself. (Check the Classroom Blogs for all the costume themes, mishloach manot information, etc.)

So consider this your official principal’s permission slip to be ridiculous. To reclaim the joy of Purim. To remember what it’s like to see the world the way your kids do.

And this year, please, for the love of all things hamantaschen, wear a costume.

Chag Purim Sameach!

Building a Sanctuary Together: Shabbat Shekalim, Rosh Chodesh Adar, and the Power of Community

There are times in the Jewish calendar when multiple strands of holiness weave together, creating a moment that is richer, more complex, and filled with opportunities for meaning. This Shabbat is one of those moments. As we welcome Shabbat Shekalim, Rosh Chodesh Adar, and our weekly parashah, Terumah, we encounter not just one sacred occasion, but an intersection of themes that call us to reflect on giving, renewal, and the power of shared responsibility.

“Make for Me a Sanctuary, and I Shall Dwell Among Them”

One of the most well-known verses in this week’s parashah is שָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹכָם וְעָשׂוּ לִי מִקְדָּשׁ — “They shall make for Me a sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8). This verse has sparked deep rabbinic reflection. The Torah does not say, “I shall dwell in it”, referring to the Mishkan, but “I shall dwell among them”— among the people. The Ramban (Nachmanides) teaches that this implies that the Divine Presence is not confined to a physical space, but is found within the hearts and actions of the Jewish people. The Mishkan was a structure, but its holiness emerged from the contributions, commitment, and spirit of those who built and maintained it.

This idea is profoundly relevant to OJCS and our school community. We are not just constructing a school, an educational institution, or even a building — we are building a sacred space of learning, connection, and Jewish identity. Our communal engagement, from the classroom to family involvement, mirrors the same principle: when we come together in meaningful ways, God’s presence dwells among us.

Shabbat Shekalim: A Lesson in Collective Giving

If Parashat Terumah teaches us about the beauty of voluntary giving, Shabbat Shekalim reminds us that some forms of giving are communal obligations. Our special Torah reading describes the mitzvah of the half-shekel: זֶה יִתְּנוּ כָּל־הָעֹבֵר עַל־הַפְּקֻדִים מַחֲצִית הַשֶּׁקֶל “This they shall give — everyone who passes among those who are counted — a half-shekel” (Exodus 30:13).

Unlike the freewill offerings for the Mishkan, this contribution was required of every Jew, rich or poor, to support the communal sacrifices and national institutions. It symbolized that every individual, regardless of means, has an equal stake in the collective future of the Jewish people.

At OJCS, we see this balance every day. Families give in many ways —through tuition, through volunteering, through philanthropy. Some contributions are required, others are from the heart, but all are essential. The lessons of Shekalim and Terumah teach us that a Jewish community thrives when we embrace both structured commitment and inspired generosity.

Rosh Chodesh Adar: The Joy of Renewal and Participation

With Rosh Chodesh Adar arriving, we also enter a season of joy. מִשֶּׁנִּכְנַס אֲדָר מַרְבִּין בְּשִׂמְחָה — “When Adar arrives, our joy increases.” This new month brings with it the anticipation of Purim, of celebration, of ruach-filled assemblies, of costumes and creative learning experiences. At OJCS, this means Ruach Week, Purim festivities, and an outpouring of energy that engages our students, teachers, and families alike.

But joy in a Jewish community is not just about celebrating — it’s about showing up. If the Mishkan was only holy when people gave their gifts, and the half-shekel only worked when everyone contributed, then our school, too, is strengthened when we all participate. As we think about the different ways people contributed to the Mishkan and the Temple, we can also reflect on how we contribute to OJCS. This can mean helping organize Ruach Week, volunteering for Purim festivities, supporting our PTA, attending school events like Trivia Night, or giving back through philanthropy. However we choose to engage, the message of Shabbat Shekalim and Parashat Terumah is clear: When we all give in our own ways, we build something greater than ourselves.

Looking Ahead: The Power of Shared Commitment

As we enter Adar and look ahead to Ruach Week and Purim, let’s embrace the different kinds of giving, learning, and joy that shape our school community. Let’s celebrate the voluntary gifts we bring from the heart, like the generosity that makes OJCS the special place that it is. Let’s honour our obligations, recognizing that strong Jewish communities require shared responsibility. And let’s cherish the fact that, together, we are building a sanctuary — not of wood and gold, but of learning, connection, and ruach.

May this season inspire us to give, to celebrate, and to continue building something beautiful — together.

Public Displays of Judaism: Purim After 10/7

Judaism sometimes still feels like a miracle and the Jewish calendar still feels like a time machine capable of connecting past to present to future. This is what I am thinking about as we prepare to celebrate the holiday of Purim in a post-October 7th world…

On Thursday, coinciding with the Fast of Esther, our school hosted a variety of dignitaries and staff from our country’s Israeli Embassy in order to participate in the Worldwide Kriyat (Recitation of) Shema. Our older students gathered in the Gym to watch the livestream from Jerusalem and to participate; younger students gathered in classrooms or simply paused at 11:30 AM to add their voices to the global Jewish voice for unity. It was brief and it was heartbreaking, but it was also cathartic and, as has been the case throughout these months, it does feel good to be able to do something.

On Friday, to ensure all our students have an opportunity, we welcomed Rabbi Idan Scher from Congregation Mahzikei Hadas to lead our students in an abbreviated, child-friendly Megillah-reading. On Monday, we will continue the celebration into Shushan Purim with our normal Purim Carnival and the launch of Ruach Week at OJCS. That leaves you, of course, with the weekend of Purim itself…

How much joy and silliness feel appropriate while hostages remain, a war continues and a humanitarian crisis unfolds? Do we dial it down out of respect? Do we amp it up out of defiance? Do we simply try to keep things “normal”? I cannot answer those questions for you, but I can tell you that I am leaning towards “normal” with a hint of extra out of defiance. You don’t have to think that is right or right for you, but it is an honest appraisal of where I locate myself today. What I would encourage you to do is have the conversation…with your children, with your family and with yourself. The story of Purim mapped onto current events is a doctoral thesis, not a blog post, but for the more serious-minded I wonder if that is the work of this weekend. To read Megillat Esther with 10/7 eyes will likely unlock new meanings and surface new questions. Lean in.

And for those who do want to go a bit extra…

…instead of asking, “What shall I dress my children as this year for Purim?”

…ask, “What are we going to dress as for Purim?”

Too often as parents we treat Judaism the same way we treat Disneyland – as something that we sacrifice for in order to give our children an “experience”. We scrimp and we save and we sweat in line so that our children can go on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. We also scrimp and save and sweat over paperwork so that our children can receive a Jewish education and go to camp and have a bar/bat mitzvah. But what about us?

Purim is a holiday of reversals and opposites, of mask-wearing and mask-shedding. You can be anyone you wish in service of being your truest self. If you think that wearing a costume is childish, what do you have to lose this year? If you are typically shy about booing Haman with all your gusto in a crowd, there are plenty of Hamans worth booing. Take advantage of the opportunity to do something silly as a family tomorrow night and Sunday. Not only should you not let your children have all the fun, your silliness makes a very serious statement about what it means to be Jewish – every year, but especially this one.

From my family to yours…chag Purim sameach.

Pandemic Purim: It Has Never Been More Comfortable to Leave Your Comfort Zone

It is a busy Shavuat Ha’Ruach (Spirit Week) at the Ottawa Jewish Community School! We are so glad to be back at school – both in general, and after February Break – that there is lots of joy in the building; the added joy of Adar and Purim just makes it that much…er, joyful.

However, as is often the case in Jewish life where we weave moments of historical tragedy into even the most joyous of occasions (the breaking of glass at a wedding to remember the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem being the most well-known example), this Purim carries with it not just the echoes of past tragedy, but current tragedy as well. Purim was, for most of us, the last holiday we celebrated before COVID and, thus, likely the last opportunity to be together in groups, in synagogues, in community, etc., that we have had. That was certainly true here. Last Purim in Ottawa was actually ground zero for the first potential exposure we experienced as a community and within days we had shut down and settled in for the great unknown of lockdowns and distance learning.

And so here we are one Jewish Year later…

As Zoomed out as most of us are, as hard as it has been for every organization, school, synagogue and institution to provide meaningful and engaging programming over the last year, it is equal parts depressing and inspiring to look back at what we have collectively accomplished and experienced together. Each event, each milestone and each holiday that we have been forced to reimagine stretches from last Purim to this one in a chain of creative reinterpretations. I mourn what was lost and celebrate what was gained, like everyone else.

How might that inform our celebration of Purim tonight and Friday?

Maybe this year, not in spite, but because we are home with our families, we can take our turn on Mr. Mordechai’s Wild Ride?

Purim is a holiday of reversals and opposites, of mask-wearing and mask-shedding. You can be anyone you wish in service of being your truest self. If you think that wearing a costume is childish, what do you have to lose this year? You can wear a costume like nobody’s watching…because no one is! If you are typically shy about booing Haman with all your gusto in a crowd, this is your year. You can boo Haman like nobody’s listening…because no one is! If you are someone who likes to indulge a bit on Purim, you can drink like no one is driving…because no one is. You get the idea.

Virtual Purim means that it has never been more comfortable to make yourself uncomfortable. Take advantage of the opportunity to do something silly as a family tonight and tomorrow. Not only should you not let your children have all the fun, your silliness makes a very serious statement about what it means to be Jewish – every year, but especially this one.

From my family to yours…chag Purim sameach & a freilichen Purim!

A Purim Prescription for Pediatric Judaism

It has been a busy Shavuat Ha’Ruach (Spirit Week) here at OJCS! As we gear up to Purim (tonight and) tomorrow, I thought I would take a moment to pivot away from our children and spend a little time on us – Jewish parents.

When we think about Purim as parents, we probably think most about this: “What shall I dress my children as this year for Purim?”

But hopefully for many families, including ours, the question isn’t what are we going to dress our children as for Purim. Rather, we ask ourselves what are we going to dress as for Purim?

I would wager a bet that no more than 15-25% of families attending Purim services and/or carnivals this year will come in costume. Why?

The phenomenon is often referred to as “pediatric Judaism” and I find that Purim is its paradigmatic Jewish holiday. I Googled “pediatric Judaism” to see who should get credit for its coinage and the best I could come up with was the following from a Reform Judaism Magazine article:

Why, then, the emphasis on what Rabbi Larry Hoffman, professor at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, calls “pediatric Judaism”? “We have planned for our children only,” he wrote in 1996. “In our understandable anxiety to pass on Judaism as their heritage, we have neglected its spiritual resources for adults, leaving ourselves with no adequate notion of how we too might draw sustenance from our faith as we grow up and grow older.”

That sounds about right.

Far too often, even those who are the most engaged – the ones who do affiliate with synagogues and do try to provide their children with Jewish educational experiences – they work to ensure their children experience and participate, but neglect to include themselves.

When as a graduate student in Los Angeles, I first attended a synagogue in which adults participated in Jewish holiday celebrations as adults – active, joyous and engaged – it was almost surreal. That was not a Judaism for children – costume contests, parades, pony rides and candy (although that may all have been there as well) – but a Judaism that adults took seriously for themselves. They were not lining the walls watching the children within; they were celebrating the joy of being Jewish for themselves.

What’s the problem with “pediatric Judaism”?

For me it is the perpetuation of the idea that being Jewish, or perhaps more accurately doing Jewish, is something that is only for children. We are our children’s most powerful role models and teachers and they are surely paying attention. When they can see that we take something seriously, it is a signal to them that they ought to as well. Children learn how to be an adult by watching our adult behaviors. We understand this as parents and so we think carefully about how we behave in front of our children, what kind of language we use, and what kind of values we express and try to live by. So, too, it is with being a Jewish adult. Our children are looking to us to see what adult Jews do and it presents us with a big opportunity and a huge responsibility.

I don’t wish to pile on parents. We will all need to do more if we are ever to cure ourselves of “pediatric Judaism”. In our schools and our synagogues, we need to reach out to parents and provide them with the support, education, experiences and love they will need to find the courage to try on new ideas and behaviors. We will need to present a Judaism worthy of the education and sophistication of our parents. Luckily, Judaism contains within it all that and more.

So…what are you going to be for Purim? Don’t let your children have all the fun…and don’t let them think that the fun of Purim is only for children.

Chag Purim Sameach!