Parashat Sazria

There are several differences between the Tzara’as that appears on people and the Tzara’as that appears on clothing. On people, the Tzara’as must be white; on clothing, it must be either bright red or bright green. A spot of healthy skin encircled by Tzara’as signifies impurity, whereas a spot of clean fabric encircled by Tzara’as signifies nothing. People with Tzara’as are exiled from their homes, whereas clothing with Tzara’as is burned. These three basic examples illustrate how the Tzara’as of people and of clothing differ in terms of their inherent characteristics, their Simanim, and their subsequent treatment.

I would like to focus on one particular difference. When a Nega first appears on a person’s skin and does not bear any of the requisite Simanim (namely that it turns two hairs white, spreads, or encircles healthy skin) by which the Kohein can pronounce it Tamei, the Kohein quarantines the person for up to two weeks. If after two weeks the Nega remains unchanged and does not develop Simanim, the Kohein declares the man Tahor and removes him from quarantine. Similarly, the inherent green or red blotch on clothing does not itself constitute Tzara’as; rather, the Kohein quarantines the clothing for two weeks while he waits for the Nega to spread. However, in the case of clothing, should the Nega remain unchanged after two weeks, the Kohein must declare the entire garment Tamei and burn it.

And the Kohein sees after the Nega is laundered [one week earlier], and behold, the Nega has not changed its appearance nor has the Nega spread. It is Tamei, burn it in the fire, [for] it is a Pichesses in either his new garments or old garments.

VaYikra 13:55

The pasuk is very clear about one fact; if the Nega does not change, it is Tamei. Do keep in mind that this pasuk speaks exclusively of a Nega after two weeks of quarantine. Earlier pasukim in the parasha (13:51-54) explain that if the Nega spreads after one week of quarantine, the garment is immediately burned, otherwise the garment is laundered and put away for a second week. (Presumably, if the Nega fades or disappears after one week, the garment would not require further quarantine, but those laws are only implied by these pasukim.)

But this pasuk is also very vague, for it fails to explicitly define what “change” the Nega doesn’t undergo. Many commentaries understand this “change” as the Nega’s magical transformation of color, either from red to green or vice versa. The pasuk also fails to instruct what the Kohein must do should the Nega change after a second week of quarantine. All in all, these pasukim are rather unclear, so Rashi, loosely quoting the Sifra, fills in a few details.

“The Nega has not changed its appearance,” [meaning] the Nega has not dimmed.

“Nor has the Nega spread.” We hear that a Nega that does not change or spread is Tamei, all the more so [a Nega that] does not change and does spread [is Tamei]. [But] I do not know what [the Kohein should] do if [the Nega] changes and does not spread. Therefore, the pasuk states “And he quarantines the Nega,” [implying that the Nega must be quarantined] nonetheless. So says Rabbi Yehuda. The Chachamim say… as is stated in Toras Kohanim, and I hint to it here so as to resolve the pasuk to its simple meaning.

Rashi, VaYikra 13:55

Rashi, for starters, does not interpret the Nega’s change in appearance as a sudden transformation of color. According to Rashi, this pasuk has nothing to do with such a scenario but rather deals with the more basic issue of a Nega that does or does not fade. Rashi’s interpretation of “changing” as dimming carries over to his interpretation of the Breissa in Toras Kohanim; therefore, the Breisa too avoids any discussion of complicated scenarios where the Nega changes color and instead focuses on the more fundamental issues of spreading and dimming, the size and brightness of the Nega. It’s no surprise Rashi claims to resolve this pasuk to its simple meaning.

However, there are several glaring difficulties with Rashi’s resolution to the pasuk. Most notably, the very next pasuk in the parasha (13:56) explicitly instructs the Kohein to rip the afflicted fabric off of the garment should the Nega dim after two weeks. If the term “change” in pasuk 55 refers to this act of dimming, how then can Rabbi Yehuda and the Chachamim debate what the Kohein should do when the Nega changes? The halacha should be clear! And yet, neither Rabbi Yehuda nor the Chachamim instruct to tear the garment. Rabbi Yehuda says to quarantine it and the Chachamim say to burn it. How then does Rashi understand this Machlokes in light of pasuk 56?

Rashi claims to “hint to” the Breissa in Toras Kohanim, but not quote it, perhaps for two reasons. First of all, he does not quote the Chachamim’s opinion along with Rabbi Yehuda’s. Second, he adds in a few thoughts of his own. The Breissa never mentions “all the more so [a Nega that] does not change and does spread [is Tamei];” this is purely commentary. What does Rashi gain by amending to the Breissa, especially if he admits that his own comments are obvious and known through Kal ViChomer? Indeed, Rashi’s Kal ViChomer is an odd albeit welcome clarification to our vague pasuk, but once Rashi is willing to comment on this case, why does he only comment on the more obvious of two unknown cases? Neither the pasuk nor the Breissa says a word about a Nega that both spreads and dims, and Rashi leaves us without even the tools to determine the halacha in such a case.

The Gur Aryeh addresses our first question on Rashi with a very short comment. He explains that the “change” Rashi defines is specifically that the Nega “did not change at all,” that the spot “retained its brightness in full.” The Nachalas Yaakov, buiding off this comment (with support from the position of the Ra”Sh MiShantz in the eleventh perek of Meseches Negaim) suggests that there are two levels of greenness and redness: deep colors, and regular colors. Anything dimmer than a deep color is a regular color and the pasuk (13:56) calls this “dimmed.” The pasuk (13:58) defines anything dimmer than even a regular color as “removed.” But as several shades of green and red exist, several shades of deep green and deep red also exist, so the pasuk must also define a Nega that dims a little from its original brightness but not enough to constitute a “regular” colored Nega. The “change” Rashi defines is a change in shade, specifically to a dimmer shade, but the Nega remains an overall deep color.

Now we see how the halachos addressed in the Breissa are very different from the case addressed in pasuk 56. In pasuk 56, the Nega “dims,” meaning it is no longer a deep color altogether. Therefore, the Kohein does not burn the garment, nor does he quarantine it; instead, he tears out the afflicted part and the rest is pronounced Tahor. But in the Breissa, the Nega “changes,” meaning it is still a deep color and the Kohein cannot pronounce the garment Tahor.

“It is a Pichesses,” a language [suggestive] of a pit, like “in one of the potholes” (Shmuel II 17). Meaning, the Nega is [physically] sunken lower [into the garment].

Rashi, VaYikra 13:55

The act of laundering the garment after one week of quarantine won’t necessarily remove the spot, even if it’s not Tzara’as. It also won’t necessarily dim the overall brightness of the spot. But laundering should at least fade the spot, even if ever so slightly. A Nega that remains in its full brightness is clearly unnatural. The Torah therefore calls it a Pichesses, meaning that the stain does not start on the surface of the garment and then work its way into the fabric but rather emanates from within the fabric; therefore, laundering the spot has no effect on the color of the stain.

This retention of color is unnatural, like the spreading of the stain. Rashi applies a Kal ViChomer to the case of a Nega that spreads but not dims because both acts are unnatural, and if one unnatural occurrence is enough to warrant that the Kohein burn the garment, then two unnatural occurrences will logically deserve the same treatment. Without stating the scenario, it is clear from Rashi’s application of reasoning here that a spot that spreads and also dims is still Tamei, for it too undergoes an unnatural process. (Such a spot is called Porachas, not Pichesses, but is equally Tamei, as described in pasuk 51).

This leaves one unresolved case. After two weeks of quarantine, if the Nega retains a deep hue but reacts naturally to the process of laundering and does not spread, then the Kohein is still as uncertain as he was a week earlier as to whether this spot is Tzara’as or not. What then should he do? Rabbi Yehuda indefinitely quarantines the garment, and the Chachamim insist on burning it. Both opinions make sense. Rabbi Yehuda refuses to burn it because he cannot warrant such recourse without a proper Siman, whereas the Chachamim view the relative brightness of the spot itself as reason enough to burn the garment (since the Torah insists on no more than two categories of redness and greenness, clearly anything that is deep red or deep green should be treated as “the same.”)

Perhaps Rashi only quotes Rabbi Yehuda’s opinion within the Machlokes because only Rabbi Yehuda’s opinion helps to elucidate the simple understanding of the pasuk. The Chachamim are forced to pair the slightly dimmed spot back into the case addressed in the pasuk, making it very difficult to really determine what whether “change” is itself a factor the Kohein must analyze when inspecting the Nega. Rabbi Yehuda, on the other hand, distinguishes the case of the “changed” Nega from the case in our pasuk; therefore, his opinion proves that “change,” whatever it is, plays a significant factor within the determination of whether the Nega is Tamei or Tahor.

In conclusion, it is clear why an unchanged Nega on a garment is Tamei, whereas the unchanged Nega on a person is Tahor. Once the Kohein launders the garment, the fact that the Nega remains unchanged is itself an unnatural occurrence and is itself a Siman for Tumah. However, blemishes on a person’s body (that might be mistaken for Tzara’as but aren’t) often emanate from underneath the skin; naturally, no matter how hard one scrubs his bruise, he would never expect it to dim in color. If anything, he would only bruise the flesh more! Therefore, the permanence of the Nega is by no means a Siman for Tumah and after two weeks the Kohein must declare the man Tahor. However, the moment the Nega spreads on his skin, turns hairs white, or encircles healthy flesh, the spot takes on a very unnatural quality, thereby proving its Tumah.

As different as the Tzara’as of clothing and people may be, we can still group them in the same category because of their unnatural origins. Whether white or red, exiled or burned, these spots and stains are markers of more than just a physical disease; they directly relay a message from above.

Parashat Tzav

On a daily basis, the Kohein scooped the ashes off the Mizbei’ach and stored them in a small crevice next to the ramp. On those days when the ashes filled the crevice, the Kohein would remove the regular clothing he wore for Avoda, dressed in less expensive clothing, and carried the ashes outside of the Mishkan. The gemara in Yoma (23b) infers from the Torah’s explicit requirement that the Kohein remove his regular clothing, a superfluous command since the pasuk only needed to say “put on less expensive clothing,” that the less expensive clothing was comparable to the regular clothing, namely were fit for the Avoda.

Of course, one might then wonder why the Kohein had to change his clothes altogether if he was just going to change into more Bigdei Kehuna. Rashi provides an explanation:

“U’Fashat Es Bigadav,” he should undress, this is not obligatory but rather Derech Eretz, so that he not dirty his [regular clothing] while carrying out the ashes, for he would serve in these clothes regularly. Clothes [a servant wears when he] cooks a pot for his master should not [be worn] when he pours his master a cup. Therefore, he dresses in less expensive clothing.

Rashi, VaYikra 6:4

Rashi answers that the Kohein does not have to change his clothing; after all, he is only changing into more Bigdei Kehuna. Rather, it is polite that he reserves the fancier clothing for the service he performs in front of his master Hashem, and dons the plain Begadim so as to protect the fancy clothes.

The Gur Aryeh explains that Rashi may in fact believe that the Torah requires any Kohein with dirty Begadim to change. However, the change of clothes in this pasuk precedes the Hotza’as HaDeshen and therefore cannot be a matter of obligation. This indeed is implicit from the gemara’s parable of the attendant who may not serve his master in clothes he used to cook a pot. In other words, the gemara acknowledges that the Kohein cannot work with dirty clothes, but this alone does not explain why the Kohein must change before getting dirty. Instead, the Kohein must have one nice pair of clothes and not want to dirty it; therefore, he changes so as not to dirty his usual Begadim, and then they will be fresh for the real service.

But by the Gur Aryeh’s understanding, does the second pair of clothes have to be of lesser value? If both changes are of equal value, has the Kohein fulfilled the task described in this pasuk? If one looks closely at Rashi’s words, he will see that there are two considerations within this pasuk. The first consideration is that the Kohein change his clothes, so as not to dirty his regular Begadim. The second consideration is that he dress in less expensive clothing when removing the ashes. By Rashi’s understanding, the need for less expensive clothing must be a matter of practicality, not a matter of obligation or of Derech Eretz. For instance, if the Kohanim were rich and owned several changes of clothing, they could presumably do away with the need for Begadim Pechusim. But this is problematic, for if the pasuk’s requirement were conditional, one would expect Rashi to tell us so. Clearly all Kohanim must be subject to this expression of Derech Eretz equally.

Looking deeper into Rashi’s words, we see that the reason the Kohein must wear less expensive clothing when performing the Hotza’as HaDeshen is because a servant wears nicer clothing when he serves his master. In other words, Rashi has two concerns. Rashi’s first concern is that the Kohein might dirty his nice pair of clothes. Therefore, the Kohein, if he has only one nice pair of clothes, must change into a less expensive pair. However, if the Kohein has several nice pairs of Begadim, then Rashi informs us that he need not change. Rashi’s use of the (seemingly unnecessary) word “Tamid,” regularly, suggests that this first concern applies only to those Kohanim that have a single change of Begadim, a change they must ear on a regular basis. But there is another concern. Rashi’s second concern is that the Kohein should wear nicer garment for the more dignifying services he performs. Even if he owns several changes of nice clothing, he still should establish some differentiation between the services he performs in front of his Master and those he performs in the background. Therefore, by this second concern, even the Kohein with multiple changes of expensive Begadim must change and must own a less expensive pair of Begadim for the more menial tasks.

The Derech Eretz of our pasuk is twofold. On a simple level, one must show Derech Eretz to others; if a master gives a servant two changes of clothes, a nice pair and a dull pair, then the servant should take care to keep the nicer one as clean as possible. But even a servant with several nice pairs should show Derech Erretz to himself and behave in a disciplined manner even behind closed doors. No master would ever know whether his servant wears fancy clothes when cooking a pot, so it is impossible to say that the servant shows respect to his master by changing into less expensive clothes. Rather, the servant changes to express reverence to the jobs he performs in front of his master, thereby affecting his own perspective of the jobs he performs. It is a Derech Eretz he performs for himself, a matter of discipline that he differentiate between those instances he stands in the kitchen and those instances he stands in front of his master.

With this short introduction, I would like to resolve a glaring contradiction created by the medrashim on Megilas Esteir. The gemara in Meseches Megila (16a) says that after Haman HaRashah rode Mordechai around on the King’s horse, Mordechai returned to the palace gate in his sackcloth and continued fasting. The problem is that the Megila stated earlier (4:2) that when Mordechai first donned sackcloth, he stopped in front of the palace gates for one could not enter the gates dressed in such a fashion. Why all of a sudden did Mordechai disregard the decree?

The Malbim proposes that when Mordechai returned from his horse ride, it is obvious that he did not enter the gates. The pasuk uses a vague lashon (as opposed to the earlier pasuk) and leaves us to figure out the rest. Other mefarshim suggest that Haman dressed Mordechai with the royal garb on top of his sackcloth, so when Mordechai returned to the gate, he was wearing both the fancy clothes and the sackcloth underneath; therefore, there was no issue of entering the gate. Rashi takes an alternative and rather fascinating approach:

For one could not enter, [meaning,] it is not Derech Eretz to enter the palace gates donning sackcloth.

Rashi, Esteir 4:2

Rashi’s use of Derech Eretz in this context implies that there existed no such decree against entering the gate with sackcloth. The Alshich explains that Mordechai refused to enter because he wanted Klal Yisrael to take action at this time and not count on him to save them. The Jews were counting on him to inform Esteir of the tragedy, but when they saw him standing outside the gate in sack, royal decree or not, they immediately assumed he refused to enter and speak with Esteir, at which point they began to fast and pray themselves (which is the topic of the very next pasuk, 4:3).

This in turn explains why we find Mordechai sitting in the gateway as early as when Haman leaves Esteirs first party (5:9), for after Esteir invites Haman to her party, Klal Yisrael assumed that she was not on their side anyhow (see Meseches Megila 13b), in which case it made no difference whether Mordechai wished to speak with her or not.

All in all, we find that the Derech Eretz Mordechai expresses by sitting outside the royal gates is in no way an outright respect to the King, for Achashveirosh would never notice what Mordechai was wearing on any given day. Rather, the act of wearing the appropriate clothing was a matter of discipline, that the clothes in which one cooks a pot are not the clothes in which he serves his master (nor attends his master’s gate). However, Mordechai’s Derech Eretz was really just a façade, a Masui Panim, for the true reverence he showed was towards the Melech Malchei HaMlachim.

Purim '08

A man once married a woman with only one hand, and he did not notice her disability until after her death. Rav exclaimed, “Behold how tzanua this woman was, for [she obviously dressed so modestly that] her husband never once noticed her [missing hand]!” Rabbi Chiya expressed an alternative amazement. “Any woman with no hand would hide this imperfection from her husband,” Rabbi Chiya challenged, “but behold how tzanua this man is for never once noticing his wife[‘s missing hand]!”

Meseches Shabbos, 53b

This short dialogue between Rabbi Chiya and Rav forms the foundation to a working model of tznius, modesty. First, Rav directly associates proper dress code (even in front of one’s spouse) to modesty. Rabbi Chiya modifies this association, acknowledging that the motivation for proper dress must stem from some source other than a fear of personal exploitation. In other words, Rabbi Chiya’s model of tznius transcends objective fact, namely that the woman is clothed, and instead focuses on one’s subjective mentality

Rabbi Chiya, however, fails to identify what aspect of the husband’s mentality conforms to the guidelines of tznius, especially if his wife has sincerely devoted herself to hiding her imperfection from him. By Rabbi Chiya’s assessment of the wife’s cunning, the husband could take no credit for having not noticed his wife’s missing hand. And if Rabbi Chiya believed that no woman was cunning enough to hide her hand from her husband for an entire lifetime, then Rabbi Chiya would be forced to recognize her as the tzanua one anyhow!

This gemara provides us with little if any didactic benefit. It acknowledges an inherent value to tznius, yet fails to qualify this value. Granted, we cannot call the husband or wife tzanua if we can instead call them cunning, but the given scope of even subjective modesty apparently ends there. And this definition leaves us largely unsatisfied, scratching our heads as to whether one is somehow lacking in his being when he looks at his spouse’s hand.

The gemara in Meseches Megila (13b) furthers our confusion. The gemara identifies three of the most tzanua individuals in biblical history, remarks how they descend from one another, and thereby concludes that each descendant’s tznius was a reward for the similar qualities of his or her ancestors. Rachel Imeinu’s modesty earned her a descendant like Shaul, and Shaul’s modesty in turn earned him a descendant like Esteir.

In short, the gemara asserts one plain fact: Esteir reflects the qualities of tznius through her unwillingness to disclose her identity – Ein Esteir Magedes Moladta ViEs Ama. This hidden identity consists of two interrelated data: her nationality; and her lineage. It is difficult to determine exactly why Esteir denied the King this information, especially when she obliged to every other whim of Achashveirosh’s. Maybe Achashveirosh hates the Jews and her affiliation will reflect poorly on her. Maybe this affiliation will reflect positively on the Jews. Maybe Esteir’s linage is her most valuable credential, for she is of royal descent. Maybe it warrants her execution, for Vashti was killed for asserting her royal authority over Achashveirosh. There is simply no way to tell.

In light of these uncertainties, what makes this gemara so blatantly troubling is the blind declaration of Esteir as a modest individual, par excellance no less. On the surface, it is impossible to evaluate Esteir’s modesty if we cannot evaluate her thoughts and intent. As Rabbi Chiya explains in Meseches Shabbos, tznius transcends the objective concealment of identity, assesses the potential gains and setbacks of said concealment, and reserves its label for the deserved few. In fact, when we consider the potential gain of Esteir’s supposed modesty, when we consider each potential rationale for her defiance, we are forced to conclude that Esteir is more cunning than she is modest, much like the woman with no hand. On one hand, Esteir may have deemed the disclosure of her identity to her disadvantage, in which case she was wise not to unveil her identity, but by no means modest. On the other hand, Esteir may have seen some potential benefit in her Jewish background and her royal lineage. This consideration is in fact strongly evident from Esteir’s actions later in the story, when she reveals her identity in order to plead for her life. In other words, Esteir recognizes the breathtaking affect her revelation can momentarily provide, and the gamut of emotions it can thereby exploit. In such case, Esteir’s unwillingness to disclose her identity when she is initially crowned queen is still not an exhibition of modesty, but rather one of cunning.

And so we are back where we began. Esteir is quiet and “hidden” (as hinted by her name) and perhaps even clever, but she is by no stretch of our imagination the archetypical tzanua. How then can we reconcile the message of the gemara in Megila with that of the gemara in Shabbos? How can we imbue the trait of tznius with any inherent value if the tzanua responds primarily to the prospect of personal gain?

Perhaps we should begin where the gemara itself begins, namely with an analysis of Rachel Imeinu’s tznius. Chazal identify both the actions and thoughts of Rachel, making this example a fitting case to study. They explain how she organized secret signals with Yaakov to prevent Lavan from replacing her with another woman on the night of her wedding. When Lavan switched her with Leah, Rachel was overwhelmed with pity for her older sister and divulged the signals to prevent Leah’s embarrassment. The compassion is evident, but where is the modesty?

“She handed over [the signals]” to Leah, and this [exemplifies] her tznius for she did not publicize the matter that [Yaakov] gave her signals.

Rashi, Meseches Megila, 13b

Rashi interestingly shifts the focus of this account back around to Rachel and her sensitivity towards her own embarrassment. What then does Rashi think of Leah’s feelings? The gemara explicitly focuses on Leah’s embarrassment, yet Rashi neglects this point!

Of course, one should wonder what embarrassment Rachel prevented Leah by handing over the signals anyhow, for Yaakov the very next morning scolded Lavan for marrying off the wrong sister. Leah’s embarrassment is then inevitable; what difference would it make whether she was exposed at night or the following morning?

In order to resolve these difficulties, we must first recognize that there are two ways of interpreting Yaakov’s complaint to Lavan. The innocent bystander could surmise that Yaakov felt cheated because Lavan breached his longstanding seven-year contract at the last moment, not because Yaakov preferred to marry one girl over the other and Lavan denied him his lover. On the other hand, if Leah cannot reciprocate to Yaakov’s signals, then everyone would discover that Yaakov arranged signals with Rachel and would realize how much more Yaakov loved one sister than the other. In other words, by sharing Yaakov’s signals with her older sister, Rachel ensured that nobody would discover how much more Yaakov loved her than Leah, and Leah would not be personally embarrassed.

In summation, Rachel has two ways of relating to the love she feels for Yaakov. On one hand, she can justify Leah’s embarrassment on the basis that Yaakov loves her more than he loves Leah. Conversely, she can treat this love exclusively as the means by which she relates to Yaakov. Ultimately, the value Rachel perceives within her relationship prompts her actions. Does Rachel value herself more than her love for Yaakov, in which case she would expose her own love in return for personal gain, and embarrass her sister? Or does Rachel esteem the inherent value of the relationship itself, in which case she gives over the signs? Rachel’s unwillingness to publicly distinguish between her and Leah’s relationship with Yaakov beautifully expresses her trait of tznius.

Shaul possessed this same trait. As a tzanua, Shaul saw a quality within himself that distinguished him from the rest of the nation, namely his future royal stature, and he refused to disclose this matter to his father. Shaul could easily exploit this information for his own personal gain; his father would have certainly given him preferential treatment. But Shaul understood that his royalty was not a bargaining chip and that the Navi’s words were not a means for personal gain. Instead, Shaul valued his stature on a much more personal level.

The Kings of Yisrael are not unconditionally born into their roles. Indeed, when Shmuel HaNavi sets out to find Shaul’s successor, Hashem rejects Dovid HaMelech’s brother Avinadav, “Ki Mi’astihu,” for I am disgusted by him (Shmuel Aleph, 16:7). The gemara in Meseches Pesachim (66b) infers from Hashem’s “disgust” that at some point in history Hashem desired Avinadav to succeed Shaul, but later changed His mind. Dovid therefore never destined to rule; rather, Hashem chose Dovid on account of his merits. Likewise, Shaul’s ascension to the Melucha was not a matter of destiny; rather, it reflected Hashem’s love for him and his reciprocal love for Hashem.

And Shmuel took a flask of oil and poured it on Shaul’s head, and he kissed him.

Shmuel Aleph, 10:1

The tznius of Shaul, like the tznius of Rachel, manifests itself within Shaul’s unwillingness to publicize this love. Even after Shmuel publicly announces Shaul’s appointment, Shaul still attempts to flee the scene, to hide under the baggage and avoid the publicity. Much like Yaakov’s actions on the night of his wedding, Shaul knows that his actions can be construed in two ways. If Shaul willingly accepts the kingship, then he would publicize the mutual love that he and Hashem bear for one another. Hashem graciously chooses Shaul, and Shaul graciously obliges. But, Shaul reasons, if he hides under the baggage, then his appointment to the kingship will appear more as a matter of forced consequence. The populous will perceive him merely as the destined beneficiary of Hashem’s obligation to appoint a king, but not as G-d’s beloved.

Tznius characterizes much more than the mere disclosure of personal information. Instead, a tzanua must hold the intimacy of a mutual love with utmost regard, regardless of the consequences. In Rachel’s case, her tznius resulted in an undesired consequence, and she ultimately shared her beloved husband with three rival wives. In Shaul’s case, his tznius had no effect; the nation’s ignorance of his relationship with Hashem certainly had no directly negative consequences, but it yielded no constructive affect either. And in Esteir’s case, her tznius resulted in one of the most fortunate outcomes in the history of Klal Yisrael. But the benefits of Esteir’s secrecy do not detract from her tznius, for her intent was nonetheless pure.

From the commoner’s perspective, Esteir’s ascension to royalty was the mundane outcome of her immense beauty and Achashveirosh’s unquenchable desire. Esteir withheld two facets of her identity from public knowledge, her nationality and her lineage, because each of these facets hinted towards a much grander scheme.

1) Esteir’s nationality: Nevuchadnetzar exiled Esteir’s nation to Bavel and dismantled their kingship seventy-four years earlier. By no small coincidence, Esteir replaced Vashti, the last remnant of Nevuchadnetzar’s descent, as Achashveirosh’s queen, signifying the downfall of Nevuchadnetzar’s legacy.

2) Esteir’s lineage: When Shaul disappointed Hashem by not annihilating Amaleik, Shmuel declared, “Hashem has torn the kingship of Yirsael from you and given it to your friend who is better than you.” Again, by no small coincidence, when Achashveirosh decrees Vashti’s death, he writes in his law book that “her kingship be given to her friend who is better than her,” and Shaul’s descendent Esteir just happens to assume Vashti’s position.

Esteir recognized immediately that Hashem desired her to replace Vashti as Achashveirosh’s queen, and she graciously seized the opportunity. However, Esteir also understood that her ascension to royalty was not a public matter, not a bargaining chip for her personal gain. Even after Achashveirosh lifted taxes and threw parties in her honor, Esteir never considered disclosing her identity, even if it would bring her nation tremendous honor and wealth. Although those potential benefits would affect not only Esteir but the entire Klal Yisrael, Esteir nonetheless refused to manipulate her predicament for any gain whatsoever.

Perhaps we can apply our definition of tznius to the woman with no hand. If this woman is truly a tzanua, then the love she harbors for her husband should overwhelm any inclination to manipulate her situation, even for her own personal gain. Do we really expect such a woman to stealthily conceal her blemish? Would she really care whether her husband notices? And if this man is a tzanua, then the love he harbors for his wife should likewise overwhelm any concern he would have over whether his wife is missing a hand or not. So again, why would the wife need to hide her hand?

We are therefore forced to concede that this woman actually did not stealthily conceal her missing hand, for there was absolutely no need for her to do so. The love she and her husband had for one another transcended the other lesser aspects of their relationship to the extent that the husband never even noticed that his wife was missing a hand until after she died! Rav exclaimed, “behold how tzanua this woman was, for her love was so strong and her relationship was so carefree that her husband never even noticed her missing hand!” Rabbi Chiya replied, “this is not necessarily so, perhaps she did not fall so madly in love as to overlook her missing hand, but her husband certainly did. Behold how tzanua he is!”

One of the most beautiful products of Rav and Rabbi Chiya’s dialogue is the indeterminacy over who the tzanua member of this relationship was. Perhaps it was the husband, perhaps it was the wife. Perhaps they were both tzanua. No matter what, the love they shared was between them and them alone, and they never disclosed the intimacy and intensity of their relationship. Behold how tzanua they both were!

And so Esteir, Shaul, Rachel and this woman with no hand (and her husband) all exemplify tznius to the purest degree. They forgo all personal gain and ignore all potential setback, and they pursue a relationship far more meaningful than their respective petty desires. They withhold the details of their relationship because these details mean far more to them than to the public. And their relationships provide all the satisfaction they could ever desire.

However, halfway through the Megila, Esteir breaks away from this mold. Mordechai orders that she reveal her identity in order to save her nation, and she does exactly as ordered! According to the gemara (Meseches Megila, 16a), Esteir even discloses her royal ancestry, at which point Achashveirosh resolves to speak directly to her without any intermediary. Clearly Esteir intends to use her identity for a personal gain. She wishes to save Am Yisrael, and to save her own life.

At first glance, one could justify Esteir’s actions in light of her mortally dire predicament. After all, Esteir is in the unique position to save her nation. Her situation seems as clear an indication as she will ever receive that she must reveal her nationality to Achashveirosh! But then does Esteir really need to divulge her lineage? Come to think of it, does she really need to reveal that she herself is a Jewess in order to influence Achashveirosh to spare the Jews? Why can’t she just ask for a favor? After all, if Esteir is so certain that she must save Klal Yisrael, then anything she does (or doesn’t do for that matter) will have very little effect anyhow. It seems that the more Esteir convinces herself she is destined to save Klal Yisrael from the evil grasp of Haman HaRashah, the less important it becomes to reveal all this personal information, for her efforts will obviously prove fortuitous anyhow!

Mordechai said [to Hasach] to reply to Esteir, “Do not consider your life to escape the palace from among all the Jews. For if you remain silent at this time, salvation will arrive for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish.”

Esteir 4:13,14

“Al Tidami BiNafsheich, do not consider your life.” [Al Tidami means] don’t think about, like Ka’Asher Dimisi, “And as I thought about” (BaMidbar 33:56). Do not consider fleeing on the day of the murder [by hiding] in the palace, for you do not even wish to risk yourself now when you might [be killed] for approaching the king without permission.

Rashi, Esteir 4:13

Modechai rebukes Esteir for her unwillingness to approach Achashveirosh and save her nation. As Rashi explains, the word “Tidami” refers to Esteir’s mindset, that her thoughts were focused on saving her own life, and that she should not bear such thoughts. Normally, a tzanua harbors deeply personal information and therefore refuses to disclose it, even for personal gain. In Esteir’s case, however, the very withholding of this information was itself a self-centered gain. Esteir hoped by remaining silent that she could avoid the “day of murder.” But Mordechai, in one sentence of rebuke, points out to Esteir that her tznius stems from her selfless regard for her unique role within a universally grand scheme. Therefore, the moment she selfishly abandons this role, she can be certain Hashem will abandon His use for her within His plan. “Salvation will arrive from another place,” Mordechai warns Esteir, “and you and your father’s house will perish.” Yes, it’s a tremendous coincidence that a Jewess should assume Vashti’s royal throne, and a descendant of Shaul HaMelech no less, but is it really necessary that Yisrael’s salvation come from that Jewess? Nothing is necessary, Mordechai reminds Esteir, except for the utter and selfless devotion of one’s life and deeds towards the fulfillment of Hashem’s Ratzon.

Esteir has no idea how she will ever convince Achashveirosh to spare her nation, let alone her. She invites Haman to her party; if Achashveirosh gets mad for even for a second, perhaps she will have a chance to turn the tables on Haman. Or maybe Achashveirosh will suspect that both she and Haman are plotting against him and order their execution, thereby negating Haman’s decrees. Or maybe some other unprecedented miracle will occur. All Esteir knows for certain is that she must disclose her identity and let go of the silly thought that she can manipulate her situation to her advantage.

“If I have found favor in the King’s eyes… the King and Haman should come to the party I will make for them [tomorrow], and tomorrow I will fulfill the King’s word.”

Esteir 5:8

“I will fulfill the King’s word,” what you asked of me all these years, to reveal my nation and lineage to you.

Rashi, Esteir 5:8

Not only does Esteir reveal her identity, but she commits to doing so a day in advance! If Esteir doesn’t even have a plan, if she has no idea how she will overturn Haman’s decree or how long it might take to do so, why does she commit herself to disclosing her nationality and lineage? Perhaps this commitment expresses how little Esteir truly deemed herself capable of controlling her predicament. Esteir knew her actions would work out for the best, but she could not imagine how. She planted a few minor obstacles for Haman to trip over but ultimately relied on Hashem’s oversight of the situation, and therefore relinquished control of her only security, the secrecy of her identity.

At the heart of tznius lies the obliteration of all personal agendas in lieu of a much more meaningful existence. We are each blessed with incredible qualities, but sometimes we cannot even recognize these qualities as gifts, for we cannot accept that they are bestowed to us by Hashem. Rachel shared her husband’s love with three other wives. Shaul relinquished his crown. Esteir forfeited her relationship to Mordechai and her commitment to a Jewish family by willingly sleeping with Achashveirosh. All three could have easily and almost justifiably rued their blessings. But none did, for they understood the grand role they played within an even grander scheme of events, and that no matter how their nation arrives at a Geula Shleimah, they will have played a just and meaningful part.

Esteir’s efforts propelled her nation towards this Geulah Shleimah, but Klal Yisrael’s mission, even two thousand years later, is far from complete, and the struggle of Purim is not only commemorated in each generation, but also relived. Hashem bestows every individual of every generation, us included, with unique qualities and the capacity to change the world around him for the better. May we recognize the incredible gifts Hashem provides for us, use them for a greater purpose than our own personal exploits, and bring a Geulah Shleimah soon and in our days.