“One must drink on Purim until one can’t distinguish between ‘Curse Haman’ and ‘Bless Mordecai’.” – Megillah, 7B, cited in Shulchan Aruch 699:2

The earliest description of syphilis dates to the 15th century. But it wasn’t called syphilis then.

In England, it was called “The French Disease”, in France “The Italian Disease”, in Russia “The Polish Disease”, in Poland “The German Disease”, in Denmark “The Spanish Disease”. In India, the Muslims blamed the Hindus and the Hindus blamed the Muslims.

(Needless to add, in many countries, the Jews were impugned for it.)

When dealing with hedonistic vices, like sex, and alcohol, it’s always someone else’s problem.

Growing up, I was told the Irish, with their whiskey, were alcoholics; the Italians with their Vino were drunks; the Blacks with their Ripple were lushes, but alcohol wasn’t a problem for Jews.

I certainly saw the first three on the streets of Washington Heights. However, in Shul there, I also witnessed men drunkenly retching on Simchat Torah, as well as a quorum staggering back to their seats reekingly, weakly from the weekly “Kiddush Club.”

Alcohol is an undeniable part of Jewish culture. Wine is integral to every Shabbos, Kiddush, wedding, Bris, indeed every Simcha. At Seders, we’re obligated to drink 4 cups of it. At some bar mitzvah parties, adults are entertained plying 13-year-olds with booze to make them Shikkur.

Stylish synagogues attract congregants by offering “Open bars” after services, as do Jewish college groups. On Simchat Torah,  vodka bottles are passed around more freely than the Torahs. On Purim, as quoted above, we’re not only instructed to drink, but indeed to get drunk.

Grape juice is always an option, but clearly, not part of our tradition. There are innumerable clever explanations for the above quote, but the intent is obvious. Even those suggesting it means we should only drink enough to put us to sleep acknowledge our duty to succumb to it.

We should neither be surprised, nor defensive. Alcohol is a part of every culture.

Drunks are portrayed comedically in beloved films (chronologically) Chaplin’s City Lights, The Thin Man, Holiday Inn, State Fair, Harvey, Father of the Bride, Cat Ballou, Bad News Bears, Animal House, Arthur, My Favorite Year, 16 Candles, even cartoons, Adventures of Tintin, Roger Rabbit.

On TV, Otis is the adorable Mayberry drunk on The Andy Griffith Show, Hawkeye and Trapper John have their own still on M*A*S*H. (Since casualties arrive unpredictably, inevitably they performed surgery under the influence, as was the case in real life.)

Being drunk defined Dean Martin and Foster Brooks’ amusing acts. (Martin actually drank apple juice on stage; Brooks was a teetotaler.)

Private dinners and public galas all begin with cocktail hours. For an hour, or more, the only foods available are salty tidbits (to stimulate more drinking.) In any restaurant, your server’s first question is “What can I get you to drink?” The question is not, will you be drinking but, what will you be drinking. (Drinks are restaurants’ profit-centers. They double their cost to their captive audience.)

If alcohol has been an inescapable part of society since Noah planted a vineyard, got drunk (after God saved the world), exposed himself, and was castrated by his grandson, then what is the problem?

One problem is, it is now undeniably in our home. Once upon a time, we pretended Jews were invulnerable to addiction. That is no longer the case.

The first patient I ever treated starting my residency in 1975 was the addicted widow of a famed president of the city’s most prestigious synagogue. On the day we met, she thanked God for providing her a Landsmahn, who would be “Sensitive to her needs.” For the next 90, she labeled me “A Nazi”for forcing her to adhere to the rigorous withdrawal schedule (she had originally agreed to.)

On the day she was discharged, sober for the first time in 25 years, she couldn’t face me, but left an apologetic letter with “the only thing of value I still have left”, a 17th century family prayer book. (She wrote “Her prayer had finally been answered.”)

I treated numerous Jewish alcoholics since then, I wish I could say as successfully as her. I can’t.

The real problem is, alcohol, any kind, any amount, any occasion, anywhere, is unhealthy.

Even a little alcohol is unhealthy? A little alcohol is a little unhealthy.

Even in low amounts, it increases risk for multiple cancers. It intoxicates us because it is toxic. Like any toxin, it is poisonous.

Can it be more ironic that our euphemism for a drink, a L’Chayim, “To Life!”, in reality, endangers it?

What is the solution? Prohibition as a social experiment was a noble but unmitigated failure. Forbidding the fruit of the vine only makes it more desirable.

The good news however is, as civilization becomes more civilized, and educated, it becomes healthier.

As Steven Pinker, et al. have documented, violence has dramatically decreased over the centuries. In my lifetime, the percentage of smokers has plummeted from approximately 50% to 10%. Consumption of red meat, cream, whole milk and other less healthy foods has similarly declined.

The same is true of alcohol. The United States Founding Fathers consumed four times more than we do. (One reason, water wasn’t as safe to drink then, as it is now.)

Like ontogeny recapitulating phylogeny (Lysenko’s once popular, but ultimately disproven, theory that our embryological development recapitulates our evolutionary one), our personal consumption mirrors our society’s. Because our bodies are less able to tolerate it as we age, we drink less intensely and frequently. We prudently evolve from hard liquor to wine, several glasses to a single one, daily to weekly. (In Father of the Bride and Bad News Bears remakes and sequels, drunkenness is no longer as much the focus.)

We ceased animal sacrifices. We can cease sacrificing our bodies on the altar of Pre Hagofen. We need not curse alcohol and bless sobriety, but we should sanctify being healthy.

Diminishing our celebration of drinking will ultimately increase our children and grandchildren’s lifespans.

Teaching them to distinguish between healthy and unhealthy is an achievement everyone should celebrate.

It is a miracle we should all toast, on Purim, and every day.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)