Tetzaveh 5773

Why Remember Amalek?

In most traditional siddurim there is a section following the Shaharit morning service known as the “Six Remembrances” (which unfortunately does not appear in the current editions of the Conservative prayer books) which is recited daily.  These six remembrances consist of the six passages in the Torah which include the command “Zakhor/Remember!”

• Remember the exodus from Egypt
• Remember the revelation at Sinai
• Remember the angst that we caused God when the golden calf was built
• Remember how Miriam behaved at her lowest
• Remember the Shabbat to keep it holy
• Remember what Amalek did to you as you left Egypt.

There does not seem to be any specific logic to the inclusion of these six events here other than the command to remember them.  And the older I get, the more I realize how tricky memory can be. There are events in my life which took place decades ago – some very insignificant - which I call recall perfectly – at least I think I do.  And there are days when I cannot remember what I ate for breakfast.

Noting that these remembrances were juxtaposed to the Rambam’s 13 Principles of Jewish Faith, Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel commented that the Six Remembrances were more important than the Thirteen Principles. For according to Heschel sacred moments are more significant than abstract doctrines since time is at the heart of existence.  We can recall historical events easier than the principles of faith.  And if we are commanded to recall these particular events daily then the assumption is that an awareness of them will impact on who we are and shape who we are.

However,once a year the command to remember Amalek is given exceptional attention. On this Shabbat before Purim, known as Shabbat Zakhor/ the Sabbath of Remembrance we read as the Maftir portion at the close of our Torah reading the selection from Devarim 25:17-19:

זָכוֹר, אֵת אֲשֶׁר-עָשָׂה לְךָ עֲמָלֵק, בַּדֶּרֶךְ, בְּצֵאתְכֶם מִמִּצְרָיִם

 Remember what Amalek did to you as you left Egypt

We are commanded to remember how Amalek cut down our stragglers – the elderly, the infirm –  when we were famished and weary. And we are commanded, once we are safely established in

our own land, to blot out the name of Amalek from under the heavens.

תִּמְחֶה אֶת-זֵכֶר עֲמָלֵק, מִתַּחַת הַשָּׁמָיִם; לֹא, תִּשְׁכָּח

“Do not forget!”

Because rabbinic tradition identified Haman, the villain of the Purim story, as being a descendant of Amalek we are reminded of our obligation to remember what Amalek did to us and our obligation to wipe out every trace of his evil before we launch into our Purim festivities.

But there are some who choose not to remember and prefer to forget for what Amalek did was horrible and we see and read about enough horrors every day.  Rabbi Irving Greenberg wrote a number of years ago that:

“Zakhor is a Mitzvah that has made modern Jews uncomfortable. The natural desire to forget and be happy collides with the ongoing pain of memory and analysis... When asked why President Ronald Reagan in 1985 initially declined to visit the Dachau concentration camp, a presidential aide explained that the president was an “up” type of person who did not like to “grovel in a grisly thing.”

Memory cannot be ignored. If God commands Israel to remember Amalek that means that some time in the future if there is another attack by Amalek, then Israel must again go to war. This teaches us the idea that history has a claim on future generations. The "commands" of the past should not be ignored in the present or in the future.

Once we acknowledge our obligations to wage war against true evil – we cannot only prevent its recurrence but we are free to celebrate such victories over evil as we will do on Purim.

President Obama pointed out last week that the forces of Al Qeida are at the lowest level of threat to our freedom since 9/11 if no before.  That is because our nation did not forget what Amalek did to our people and our leaders swore to eradicate Amalek from beneath the heavens – no matter how uncomfortable we are with such thoughts.

Shabbat Shalom and Purim Sameah,

Rabbi Matt Futterman

Senior Educator



Terumah 5773

Terumah 5773

Our rabbis are perplexed by a particular verse in this week’s parsha, Terumah. We read,

שמות כ"ו:ט"ו וְעָשִׂיתָ אֶת־הַקְּרָשִׁים לַמִּשְׁכָּן עֲצֵי שִׁטִּים עֹמְדִים

You shall make the planks for the Tabernacle of acacia wood, upright.

A verse that, on its surface, is simple, stating that the Israelites built the Mishkan out of acacia wood. But the rabbis wonder, where did all of this acacia wood come from? After all, there was no Home Depot in the desert! Where did they find all of this wood?

The rabbis craft a creative narrative to solve this problem (Tanhuma Terumah 9). They flashback to the end of Genesis, when Yaakov our ancestor left Israel to join his children in Egypt. Our rabbis tell us that Yaakov planted the trees as he walked on his journey. They imagine Jacob announcing to his family, “My children! You are destined to be redeemed from Egypt, and when you are redeemed, the Holy One will command you to build a Tabernacle. Help me plant these trees now, so that when our descendants are to make a tabernacle, the trees will be on hand.”

What are the seeds that we are planting right now for ourselves, for our friends, for our families, like Yaakov did before us? What are we setting in motion now that will build our community?

We spend our time at Anshe Emet planting seeds. We have extensive adult education, Shabbat activities, time to gather socially and more. The entire point of all this is to help us all, as individuals and as a community, to blossom and grow. What are you looking for, for yourself and your family? And how can we make that happen? Please be in touch with me, and anyone on the synagogue staff team and clergy, so that we can plant seeds and grow together, as our ancestor Yaakov and his children did so many years ago.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Russo

Mishpatim 5773

Justice and Tzedakah

From time to time, I like to take a step back from the weekly Torah portion and think about the broader sequence of events – how does the sequence of parshiyyot lead us to a deeper understanding of the values of Torah? 

The placement of this week’s Torah portion, in particular, is hard to understand.  Overall, the sequence of the Book of Exodus goes like this: slavery and liberation from Egypt, the covenant at Sinai, and the construction of a Holy Space, the Mishkan.  That much makes logical sense: God frees us from bondage, we join God in covenant, and we construct a Mishkan, a holy dwelling for God.  The puzzle is that, right in between the covenant and the Mishkan, we have parashat Mishpatim: fifty-three commandments about mundane, every-day matters like theft, rental property, personal injury, and the needs of the poor, widows, orphans, and strangers.  Why are these mitzvot inserted here, apparently interrupting between the covenant and the construction of the Mishkan, rather than appearing later in the Torah after God’s sanctuary is in place?

Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik (Belarus, 1820-1892), great-grandfather of the famous American Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, points us in the direction of an answer.  He writes that parashat Mishpatim, with its laws of social justice, comes before the building of the Mishkan in order to teach us that before we give tzedakah, we must first make sure that our money is not tainted by ill-gotten gains.  

Put differently, the means do not justify the ends.  Even as the Torah presents the Mishkan as God’s dwelling place on earth, the Divine Palace, the placement of this week’s Torah portion between the covenant and the Mishkan reminds us that justice must always come first; a physical structure for the community – be it a Mishkan, a Temple, or a synagogue – might help remind us of God’s Glory, but the mitzvot in this weeks’ parshah, the mitzvot of social justice, are the prerequisite for any honor we might offer to God.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Abe Friedman