History is full of moments of opposites, when the world seems at a crossroads of disaster and redemption. We are now in one of those moments. Living in Israel today, amid an existential war where we have come face to face with those who seek our destruction, I can’t help but see the light of our redemption at the end of the tunnel.

This week Jews around the world celebrated the festival of Purim. A holiday filled with opposite feeling. Fear and joy, laughter and sorrow. Reality and costume facades. Yet behind the historical story is the true miracle. Had our people not faced the sobering reality of existential threat in Persia, we would have never fulfilled our true destiny and return to Jerusalem to rebuild the Holy Temple.

For many years one question has lingered in my mind when reading Megillat Esther.

If Haman’s hatred was so clear, if the threat to Jewish survival was so severe, why did the Jews of Persia remain where they were? Why did they not escape?

The Jews of Persia had arrived only a few years earlier following the destruction of the First Temple in Jerusalem, exiled by the Babylonian king. By the time the story of Purim unfolds, the Babylonian Empire had already fallen to the Medo Persian Empire. The reality of their exile had changed so dramatically, that there was really nothing stopping the mass return of the Jewish people to return to their ancestral homeland.

In fact, history records that the opportunity had already been granted. In 538 BCE, Cyrus the Great issued a decree allowing the Jews to return to Judea and even begin rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem. Indeed, there was a small number of pioneers who heard the call of Zion and returned but the majority of the Jewish world chose to remain in exile. Perhaps they chose their new palatial homes over the harsh stone dwellings of Judea. Maybe the flourishing economies of the Persian market were too tempting to abandon. Jewish life in Persia had prospered. Jewish educational institutions were built. Buildings bore the names of Jewish philanthropists of the time. Life was too comfortable.

Then came Haman and ruined it for everyone.

In just a few years after all hell broke loose in Shushan, under the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah, waves of Jews began returning to their homeland and rebuilding Jewish life in the land of Israel took off.

Purim did more than save the Jewish people from destruction. It set the redemption in motion.

If you want to, it is uncanny to see the parallels to our own time.

The twentieth century was witness to another Haman. He too sought the total annihilation of the Jewish people. His name was Adolf Hitler. The lottery he held resulted in the murder of six million Jewish men women and children. Aside from the physical destruction of the Jews of Europe, the Holocaust destroyed Jewish life in Europe. Those very comfortable homes and lucrative careers could not withstand the devastation.

And yet again the light at the end of that dark tunnel was the establishment of the modern State of Israel. The first Jewish sovereignty in our indigenous homeland in nearly 2000 years. And some Jewish people returned home.

But the newly established State of Israel was harsh and uncertainty lurked everywhere. Enemies threatened our existence. So like the Jews of Persia centuries earlier, the majority of Jews remained in the diaspora. Life in exile was, after all, stable. Prosperous communities flourished in North America, Australia and Latin America. Once again Jewish life and institutions were booming. Schools, shuls and hospitals bore names of the Jewish philanthropists of the day. And life outside this comfort zone felt almost unimaginable.

Today Israel faces enemies who once again openly declare their desire to destroy Jewish life. Iran, the modern successor to ancient Persia, has positioned itself as the leading force behind that threat. From Tehran to its proxies across the region, the sounds of war and annihilation echo in town squares and government halls. Anti-Jewish sentiment is once again spoken openly.

Even in places that once served as pillars of Jewish life, Jewish future is increasingly uncertain. University campuses that were once second home to Jewish students and scholars are now hotbeds of Jew hatred and hostility. In some places, Jewish institutions are threatened daily.

History has a way of repeating.

Now that this newfound reality is at play, the question is will the Jews of the diaspora here the call of Zion? Will they finally trade in their mansions for a stake in the Holy Land? Will they take the bold step and come home to their one true ancestral homeland?

That is why this moment feels so paradoxical and precisely why these truly are the best of times and the worst of times. Or maybe it should be the worst of times and the best of times. I believe one thing is for certain, Purim 2026 will set in motion the next redemption.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)