In the quote above, Heschel is essentially describing a mitzvah as a meeting point between the Divine and the human. He is asserting that fulfilling a religious commandment is more than simply obeying God's will (or our understanding of God's will); it offers the possibility of experiencing God.
What it means to "experience God" is obviously a complex question, so for this brief article let us simply understand it to be a deep and meaningful religious experience. And let us look at some of the mitzvoth connected to our upcoming holiday of Purim - a holiday that we may not necessarily think of as particularly spiritual - to see how they help us create significant religious experiences.
Perhaps the most obvious mitzvah of Purim is to hear the reading of Megillath Esther. On the night of Purim and then again in the morning, we are obligated to hear this delightful story - even if we keep interrupting the reading! But what religious depth is hidden in this generally raucous celebration?
There are a few elements we should consider. First of all, there is the wild and crazy experience of the reading itself. Joy is an important and very "serious" religious emotion in Judaism, and a constantly dour and serious perspective is seen by our tradition as an impediment to true religious feeling. The Jewish calendar does have its periods of sadness (the Three Weeks from Shivah Asar b'Tammuz until Tisha b'Av and Sephirath ha- Omer), and contemporary commemorations (Yom ha-Shoah and Yom ha-Zikaron) join the minor fast days to mark the tragedies that have befallen our people. But the vast majority of our holidays, and even Shabbat are truly joyous celebrations. It is our legal tradition that informs us that when Adar enters, we greatly increase joy; perhaps enjoying the legitimate pleasures in life, and looking for all that is good and fun in life is one way of sensing God's Presence.
A second Purim mitzvah of which we are well acquainted is Mishloah Manot, sending packages of food (usually some hamentaschen, cake, fruit, nuts and/or candy) to friends. This can be a wonderful family project, or one can arrange for Mishloah Manot to be sent through some of our community's organizations (which also makes it a wonderful opportunity for supporting our community). However one performs this mitzvah, it can be more than simply giving a gift. It can make us more aware of the friends that surround us, the love and support that can help us through hard times and amplify the joy at happy times. When we read the story of when our people had no friends, no one they could trust, how much more we should we celebrate the affection and support that surrounds us in our friends and community. Perhaps the presence of such people in our lives points to a greater Presence as well?
Megillat Esther describes another mitzvah that is part of the celebration of the holiday: Mattanoth l'Evyonim, gifts to the poor. (This is often fulfilled through another mitzvah, mahatsit ha-Sheqel, the half-sheqel we traditionally collect on erev Purim). It hardly needs saying that not only is Tzedakkah a central mitzvah, it is a basic value concept for Jews. From the Bible through contemporary theology, an integral element of being a holy people is to work toward a society that is just and provides for all its members. Our commentators specifically point out the order of the verse: …you shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am Adonai: only when we recognize our responsibility to another, only when we have compassion and empathy for another can we then know Adonai.
As traditional Jews, we feel the many demands and obligations that are placed upon us. We may observe them happily because we believe that we are literally or symbolically fulfilling God's will. Yet as Dr. Heschel's so often taught, our mitzvoth are more than commandments: they are opportunities to experience life on a deeper level, and sense the Greater Presence that behind it.
Rabbi Charles S. Popky