by Rabbi Zahavit Shalev, New North London Synagogue

Not so long ago my community was hiring a new rabbi. Towards the end of a fairly thorough interview, we asked the prospective candidate if they had other qualities that we’d not already heard about that they would bring to their role. Yes, said the rabbi, I’m very in touch with my silly side.

Admittedly we specifically sought a rabbi who we hoped (among other things) would connect with our children and young people, but even if that hadn’t been the case, I would still have been won over by this statement. I love a leader who can be silly. I’d go further and say that silliness is necessary.

It’s Purim at the weekend, the Jewish carnival holiday. The festival commemorates the story told in the Book of Esther – a story that would make you weep if you read it as straight history, but which can be enjoyed if read in the spirit of absurdity, as a pantomime.

Officially the observances of the holiday are reading the story of Esther, giving gifts of food to friends, donating charity to the poor and holding a celebratory feast. But if you ask Jews about Purim, they’ll mention wearing fancy dress and the (supposed) commandment to get drunk (about which there’s naturally a great deal more to say but not here.)

Meanwhile back to silliness and why it’s necessary.

There’s a story told about one of the Talmudic sages, Rabbi Beroka Hoza’a a (Ta’anit 22a) who frequents the marketplace in his local town. Elijah the Prophet occasionally appears to him for a chat. One time, Rabbi Beroka asks Elijah if there is anyone in the crowd who will be rewarded in the World-to-Come. Elijah points out a pair of brothers.

Curious, Rabbi Beroka asks them their occupation. They tell him:

We are jesters, we cheer people up when they are depressed. Alternatively, when we see two people who have fallen out, we strive to make peace between them.

There’s much to ponder in this statement.

Firstly, that jokers/comedians/satirists/entertainers make an invaluable contribution to society.

Secondly, that laughter is one possible strategy for repairing broken relationships.

And thirdly it’s worth noticing that these worthy souls are a pair. Together they generate something which transcends what they can each accomplish individually. They model silliness as a transformational mode of communication.

(By the way, we hired that rabbi. They are excellent in many ways. And they were so right to mention their silly side.)