14 Minute Megilla Reading!

I was tired.

They were late. 

I'd already done it.

They could go elsewhere. 

I didn't want to do it again. 

But then I did. 

Purim morning services began at 7:00am, with megilla reading at 7:30. We had a good turnout and by 8:00 we were almost done and ready to tackle the day ahead.

But at 8:00 on the dot, three people walked in—late—wanting to hear the megilla. They waited until I had finished and then asked what they should do. One of them even told me she had shed some tears when she walked in and realized they had missed it. 

Now, back in the day, when I was young and sprightly, my friends and I used to compete how many times—and how quickly—we could read the megilla within the 24-hour period. The more, the better. But now I'm 40 and perpetually tired. And so I hesitated. 

Reading megilla is not as easy as it looks, and I'd just done it. It wasn't even a whole new crowd—just three individuals! Did I really need to oblige? Surely it was their fault they were late and now they could go elsewhere. I could have easily convinced myself. 

But then they showed me my website, which they had consulted, and we had in fact listed megilla reading for 8:00am! It was entirely my mistake. And, to be honest, I was thrilled to know that people actually still look at our site. 

Still, we'd had over 400 people at our Purim party the night before, I was running on less than four hours of sleep, I knew I had an overly-busy day ahead, and I was exhausted not just from Purim, but from caring for our new-born triplets. 

Then I realized, what could possibly be more important than reading the megilla for these three people? What is the purpose of all the work I do on a daily basis? Isn't it all about trying to get people to do more mitzvot? And now I have an opportunity right in front of me: three people who want to do a mitzvah, require no convincing whatsoever, they simply need me to agree!

Could I be any more fortunate?

And so I read the megilla in 14 magical minutes for these three individuals who had come to shul specifically to hear it at the exact time I had listed it. They fulfilled their obligation and I learned an important lesson, one that is represented in this week's Torah portion.

We read about the construction of the holy sanctuary, the Tabernacle, the Mishkan—a place where G-d's presence rested. Today we no longer have the Tabernacle or Temple, but we do have a spiritual Temple which we are tasked with building daily. 

What does that mean? How do we build a spiritual home for G-d? By going beyond our comfort zones and doing the things that are hard; the things that challenge us. Whether it's giving extra charity, waking up early enough for shul, or, in my case, reading the megilla again for the benefit of three Jews in need. 

This week, I built a sanctuary. I hope you will, too.