What are we supposed to remember to forget?
Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt— how, undeterred by fear of G!d, they surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore…you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget! (Deut. 25:17-19)
On this Shabbat we not only read from the regular parashat hashavua, but also add a short reading specifically chosen for our proximity on this last Shabbat before Purim to our yearly encounter with the Megillat Ester, more often called simply “the Megillah.” The Purim story recalls a terrifying time for a vulnerable Jewish population in Persia, and celebrates a miraculous escape from destruction. The special Torah reading evokes the ancestor of the bad guy of Purim (we’re supposed to blot our his name so I won’t say it here): Amalek.
Shrouded in the mists of history, once upon a very long time ago, something horrifying happened to our people at the hands of a murderer we remember by the name Amalek. The Torah recalls how a band we knew as the Amalekites attacked the weakest and most vulnerable among us. As we mourned the terrible loss of innocents unable to defend themselves, we resolved never to forget what happened, and to “blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven.”
It’s interesting to consider how our traditional Jewish stories resonate less, or more, at different times in our history. Fifty years ago the story of Purim was deracinated down to a children’s tale (albeit with wildly inappropriate music invoking how we happily hanged the enemy); today the more frightening messages that Purim brings to mind require our adult attention. Closer to us in the U.S. we resonate to the idea of the foolish king and the close advisor who is bent on evil for personal enrichment, and, farther away, we face the awful reality that we ourselves, as the Jewish state, seem to be capable of the same kind of massacre as has been visited upon us.
It’s an ancient truth, and we’re not immune, as the Megillah demonstrates. Purim conveys the disturbing message that when they’re coming to kill you, if you can get the upper hand, use it to kill them first. And thus we read in chapter nine:
וּבִשְׁנֵים֩ עָשָׂ֨ר חֹ֜דֶשׁ הוּא־חֹ֣דֶשׁ אֲדָ֗ר בִּשְׁלוֹשָׁ֨ה עָשָׂ֥ר יוֹם֙ בּ֔וֹ אֲשֶׁ֨ר הִגִּ֧יעַ דְּבַר־הַמֶּ֛לֶךְ וְדָת֖וֹ לְהֵעָשׂ֑וֹת בַּיּ֗וֹם אֲשֶׁ֨ר שִׂבְּר֜וּ אֹיְבֵ֤י הַיְּהוּדִים֙ לִשְׁל֣וֹט בָּהֶ֔ם וְנַהֲפ֣וֹךְ ה֔וּא אֲשֶׁ֨ר יִשְׁלְט֧וּ הַיְּהוּדִ֛ים הֵ֖מָּה בְּשֹׂנְאֵיהֶֽם
And so, on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month—that is, the month of Adar—when the king’s command and decree were to be executed, the very day on which the enemies of the Jews had expected to get them in their power, the opposite happened, and the Jews got their enemies in their power. (Esther 9.1)
The haftarah chosen for this Shabbat repeats the command:
עַתָּה֩ לֵ֨ךְ וְהִכִּיתָ֜ה אֶת־עֲמָלֵ֗ק וְהַֽחֲרַמְתֶּם֙ אֶת־כׇּל־אֲשֶׁר־ל֔וֹ וְלֹ֥א תַחְמֹ֖ל עָלָ֑יו וְהֵמַתָּ֞ה מֵאִ֣ישׁ עַד־אִשָּׁ֗ה מֵֽעֹלֵל֙ וְעַד־יוֹנֵ֔ק מִשּׁ֣וֹר וְעַד־שֶׂ֔ה מִגָּמָ֖ל וְעַד־חֲמֽוֹר׃
Now go, attack Amalek, and proscribe all that belongs to him. Spare no one, but kill alike men and women, infants and sucklings, oxen and sheep, camels and asses!” (I Samuel 15.3)
Right now, in Israel, there are those who invoke this ancient command as justification for the murder of so many human beings in Gaza. Using ancient words to justify a modern horror is not unknown: preachers in the south of the U.S. justified slavery similarly. It’s a great comfort to discover that our rabbis of the Talmud unhesitatingly denounced this evil:
The Sages taught in a baraita…Among the descendants of Haman were those who studied Torah in Bnei Brak. And even among the descendants of that wicked person, Nebuchadnezzar, were those whom the Holy Blessed One sought to bring beneath the wings of the Divine Presence. (Mishnah Yadayim 4.4)
What an amazing idea. The prophet Samuel, the Megillah, and even HaShem all command that we eradicate not only the people but even the memory of the people of Amalek, and a couple of rabbis of the Talmudic era, not even prominent enough to be mentioned by name, nix the idea completely. They observe that because of a verse in Isaiah, we can no longer be certain of the identity of any of our neighbors: Sanheriv, king of Assyria, already arose and blended all the nations, as it is said, “I have removed the borders of nations.” (Isaiah 10.13)
Many commentaries since then have upheld this same idea:
How do we know that we can make peace with Amalek?…should they [the Amalekites] repent and accept upon themselves the seven commandments, it is clear that they are not holding onto the deeds of their forefathers, and thus they cannot be punished for the sins of their fathers. (R Avraham Borenstein, Avnei Netzer: Orakh Hayim 2.508)
Consider the great compassionate strength of these ancestors of our people, beaten down so hard by so much of our Exile experience, yet able to insist that the old idea of Retribution Forever was not applicable. Especially when we see Jewish thugs cloaking themselves in religious texts soundbitten out of all context and recognition, we need to remember this: when “religion” seems to be telling you to do something that doesn’t seem very much in line with religious teachings like “give the benefit of the doubt” or “respect the other as you wish to be respected”, it may be that there is a grievous misunderstanding.
It is perfectly understandable when a people under attack and helpless remembers Amalek as we try to make sense of what is happening to us. It is perfectly indefensible when we use the same story to do to others that which is hateful to us (the original formulation of the “golden rule”, attributed to the great Rabbi Hillel).
One of the most insightful interpretations of the Amalek story invites us to remember that Amalek lives inside each of us, and that the command to blot out the memory of Amalek under heaven is meant to be understood as the urging to eradicate that Amalek within us. We can understand that inner Amalek as the temptation to betray others:
- Not acting because I’m not directly affected
- Withdrawing from a community to protect myself alone
- Separating myself because I feel unappreciated
- Shutting off from the outside due to feeling overwhelmed
- Taking care only of my own loved ones
“Devil take the hindmost”, another name for Amalek, preys on weakness and fear. We are called upon in these days of all too much awareness of our weakness and our fear to remember to forget. Forget Amalek. Blot it out.
Torah for the 21st Century by Rabbi Ariel Stone 