I’m not kidding. These verses come right from this week’s Torah portion:

The LORD spoke to Moses, saying:

Make a basin of copper and a stand of copper for washing; and place it between the Tent of Meeting and the altar. Put water in it, and let Aaron and his sons wash their hands and feet [in water drawn] from it. When they enter the Tent of Meeting they shall wash with water, that they may not die; or when they approach the altar to serve, to turn into smoke an offering by fire to the LORD, they shall wash their hands and feet, that they may not die. It shall be a law for all time for them—for him and his offspring—throughout the ages.  (Exodus 30:17-21)

Still smiling from the jest and farce of Purim, these words struck me as a bit comical. Our ancient text described rigorous and routine washing as devotedly as the CDC website. How wise our ancestors were! How little has changed since then!

But today, those words are not so funny. Purim seems like a dream I dreamt when I was young and carefree. The main connection between Purim and today is the phrase that characterizes Purim’s raucous levity: venahafoch hu (the opposite happened); literally, “it was turned upside down.” (Esther 9:1) The evil that descended on the Jewish people failed to happen. Mordecai’s star rose as Haman’s fell.

By week’s end, our world has been turned upside down. As a community, we swiftly shifted from taking simple precautionary measures that allowed us to eat and drink and be merry on Purim, to sheltering in our homes, distant from one another just as Shabbat is descending. It feels topsy-turvy.

Today I discovered a different meaning in these Torah verses about the sacred basin. When the priests wash, there is no soap, and no 20-second ditty to sing. When the priests wash, it is not their bodies but their souls that are being cleansed. They are preparing for the unique service for which they have been brought up, trained, and anointed, service to the divine and to the Jewish people.

What made this copper basin so special that it is placed in the Mishkan, the holy tabernacle? Later in Exodus, the Torah tells us that the basins were crafted from copper mirrors donated by the Israelite women. Not only was this gift as an act of selflessness, but the mirrors reflected a deeper devotion.

In the Midrash, (rabbinic fan fiction on Torah) we learn that back in Egypt, Pharaoh not only imposed back-breaking labor on the men. He went the extra mile to exhaust the men and separate them from their wives. Rather than murder babies, why not simply prevent them from being conceived?

When Pharaoh’s actions demoralized the Israelite men, it was the women’s initiative that ensured their survival as a nation. The Midrash describes how the women went to draw water from the Nile, filling their jugs with fish to cook for their husbands. Then they took the meal to the men in the fields. After the meal, the women pulled out their copper mirrors, exposing their beauty, and aroused the men to do what Pharaoh had hoped would no longer be possible.

In other words, the priests who washed themselves in sacred preparation for service were reminded of their mothers and grandmothers, who reignited love among the Israelites and renewed their will to live. It was that will to live that enabled the people to follow God and Moses out of the bondage of Egypt.

This is part of our task today. Yes, we are afraid. Yes, we feel beaten down. Yes, we have reached a new level of overwhelm. Yes, we are facing unprecedented disruption in our lives. And if we want to turn this around we must begin now, before the virus takes hold, and before we contain or mitigate or overcome it. Though we are all more isolated, we will find strength and comfort and inspiration when we reach out to others in joyful and loving ways. We must find our own mirrors to reignite love and to renew our will to live, and share that with others who are dispirited and downhearted.

And, in the end, venahafoch hu—the wheel of fortune will inevitable turn again. We pray that what we most fear will fail to materialize. And, like our heroes in Shushan, we pray that we too may once again enjoy “light and gladness, happiness and honor.” (Esther 8:16)