The word ככלתו is spelled in a manner that can also be read as כְּכַלָתוֹ, like his Kallah - a bride.

The Maharsha sees this as a reference to the notion that the Jewish nation upon receiving the Torah were likened to a bride, with Hashem as our Chosson - the groom.

It seems odd that this remarkable role as the virtual bride of Hashem is depicted here in context of the subsequent sin of the Golden Calf and not earlier at the more detailed description of the glorious giving of the Torah as it appears in the portions of Yisro and Mishpatim.

Many earlier sources make a mystical assertion that the holiday of Purim incorporates all of the holidays in our calendar.

Chronologically, Pesach begins the sequence of our Moadim, with Purim being the last before we begin the cycle again.

It is interesting to note that in the course of the Megillah there are many allusions to this parallel.

The three days of fasting that Esther summoned took place over the first days of Pesach.

We accepted the Torah anew in the days of Purim as we did on the sixth of Sivan - Shavuos, at Har Sinai.

We make reference to the terrible destruction of the Temple and the exiling of our people from Yerushalayim, that is commemorated on the fast days of the 17th of Tammuz and Tisha B’Av, when we read the verse describing Mordechai’s exile to the tune of Eichah.

The bringing of the Sefer Zichronos, the record book, is an allusion to the Books of the Living and the Dead of Rosh Hashana, where the effects of our deeds and misdeeds are recorded. We also have a tradition that wherever it mentions המלך, the King, in the Megillah, it refers to the Almighty who reigns overall, the very message of Rosh Hashana.

The fasting, prayer and national repentance the people engaged in, echoes the inspiration of that holiest day of Yom Kippur.

The explosion of Simcha, joy, we experienced is reminiscent of the exquisite happiness we sense on the holiday of Sukkos, regaling in the exclusive closeness we possess with Hashem.

Mordechai’s risking his life in refusing to bow before Haman, not standing or stirring, is like the courage the Chashmonaim would exhibit many years later, inspiring the mesiras nefesh for our beliefs that is the very lesson of Chanukah.

On that first Pesach, Hashem took us as his betrothed, to eventually stand beneath the Chuppah - the marriage canopy, the mountain that hovered above us at Sinai.

But we betrayed our relationship, tempted to look astray lured by the luster of the Golden Calf, and the breaking of the Tablets, that haunts us through history, in the destructions of the two Temples and the exiles that ensued.

On Rosh Hashana we renewed our vows and commitment to our loyal ‘Groom’, culminating forty days later with Yom Kippur when He forgave us, inviting to stand beneath the Chuppah once again, embraced under the Clouds of Glory.

On Chanukah we proved our loyalty to the relationship, and on Purim we realized our spouse never neglected us and is there for us no matter how disloyal we have been.

We have returned to our Groom, ready to start afresh and get it right from the start.

The mention of our status as a bride precisely here is a reminder that despite our failings Hashem will never forsake us forever holding out hope that we will return.

As Purim wanes, its effects remain. In trying times, we must prove our faithfulness. When things seem dark, we must trust that we are never neglected and must place our confidence in our ‘Mate’.

May we draw renewed faith and inner strength to face the difficult challenges we face in proving our loyalty. May our ‘Groom’ sweep us off our feet and return us to our eternal home.

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן