Do You Have A Destiny

This Shabbat is called Shabbat Zachor — the Shabbat of Remembrance. It is the only time during the year that the Torah explicitly commands every individual to come and hear the public reading of Zachor this week.

Synagogues fill as we fulfill the mitzvah to hear: “Remember what Amalek did to you on the way when you came out of Egypt.”

First, Zachor is our annual confrontation with a truth the modern world resists: absolute evil exists. The Torah does not allow moral confusion. There is good, and there is evil. There is truth, and there is falsehood. Not every narrative can be contained. There are not always “two sides.” When there is terror, murder, and barbarism, the command is clear: “Blot out the memory of Amalek… do not forget.”

Painfully, some still do not grasp this. Even those who do often lack resolve. Since 1967, Israeli governments — including the present one — have too often been defined by ambivalence, even when G-d performed open miracles and world leaders signaled unprecedented support. Moments of clarity demand courage.

Who is Amalek? We read this before Purim because Haman descended from Amalek. Amalek is not ancient history. Absolute evil did not retire. It wore the face of Amalek, then Haman, then Hitler. Today, it wears the faces of Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, the PA, and many in Judea, Samaria, and East Jerusalem who would celebrate our destruction, Heaven forbid.

The Torah warns that once we feel secure in our land, we may forget. Internal quarrels become juicier. But your ideological rival is not Amalek. Disputes among brothers are not wars against a murderous enemy. Know what is essential and what is secondary. Focus on the real threat.

When does Amalek strike? When we are “tired and weary and do not fear G-d.” When we are burnt out, cynical, and spiritually numb. Amalek attacks exhaustion. Every act of joy, building, faith, and identity is an act of resistance.

The Inner Amalek

There is also an inner Amalek.

The Alter Rebbe explains that Amalek plants a seed in the Jewish psyche. Amalek shares the numerical value of ram — exalted. Amalek speaks piously: G-d is lofty, infinite — too elevated to care about your daily life.

In a powerful Purim talk, the Rebbe exposed this voice. Amalek whispers: It is beneath G-d’s dignity to care how long you wait between meat and milk. To care whether you carry on Shabbat. To care about your struggles. Amalek is also safek, doubt. Maybe G-d is absent from your darkness.

The Hidden Face

The Gemara asks: Where is Esther hinted at in the Torah? The answer: I will hide my face.

Esther represents Divine concealment. Her book famously omits G-d’s name, yet records the first genocidal decree against the Jewish people. Purim unfolds entirely in exile.

And yet one sentence pierces the darkness. Mordechai tells Esther: “If you remain silent, relief will come from elsewhere… But who knows — perhaps for this very moment you attained royalty?”

This is divine providence. You are here for a reason, in this place, at this time, with these gifts and these dangers.

Rambam teaches that each of us must see ourselves and the world as perfectly balanced. One deed can tip the scale. Esther did not know history would hinge on her courage. We never know which moment will change everything.

A Story, a book in Gaza

For 505 days, Omer Shem Tov, abducted by Hamas on October 7, 2023, endured brutal captivity in underground tunnels — often in solitary confinement. In one narrow cell, he had no electricity, only a flashlight that died frequently. Biscuits for food. Salty water. He did not know how he would survive.

Then he found a lifeline: a Dvar Malchus booklet left behind by an IDF soldier, Yoel Elbaz.

Hamas found it and, inexplicably, gave it to Omer. They also gave him a Hebrew copy of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest, which he read five times, and a booklet with Tefillat HaDerech and Psalm 100. But the Dvar Malchus became his anchor. He read it again and again.

For months, he and fellow hostages made Kiddush over a single bottle of grape juice. On Yom Kippur, he wanted desperately to fast but did not know the date. When Israeli radio went silent, he realized he had missed it and felt crushed. He prayed constantly. After about 50 days, he was suddenly moved.

The booklet was Vaeira 5784. It opened with: “I have heard the groaning of the children of Israel… I will free you… I will redeem you.” It also included the Rebbe’s discourse, Basi Legani, teaching that Divine light reaches even the lowest abyss.

The Rebbe quoted Psalm 139: “If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I descend to the abyss, You are there. Darkness is not dark for You.”

Is there a darker abyss than Hamas tunnels in Gaza?

How does a soldier leave a booklet, Hamas hands it to a hostage, and the Rebbe’s words about light in the abyss reach a Jew in hell? We cannot fathom it. But somehow: “If I descend to the abyss, You are there.”

The discourse also traces Joseph, kidnapped, thrown into pits, imprisoned underground, yet never severed from G-d. Tanya teaches that every Jew carries an otzar, a hidden treasure of awe, a “piece of G-d literally.” Like oil that never mixes with water, the Jewish soul cannot be diluted. It may be submerged, but it rises.

Is this not what we witnessed in the tunnels?

The Lesson

Amalek says G-d is distant and uncaring.

Esther says: You are here for this moment.

The Torah says: Remember.

Each of us must ask: Why did Hashem place me here? What is my task? You need not be a queen. You can be Esther. Or a soldier named Yoel. Or anyone else. One small act may ripple beyond imagination.

Even in hester panim, the call remains: “U’mi yodeia im l’et kazot higa’at lamalchut?”

When Hashem calls, may we answer: Hineini. I am here.

May we walk tall as Jews, unafraid. May we erase Amalek, within and without, with clarity, courage, and unwavering faith. And may we see the end of all evil, speedily in our days.

Shabbat Shalom and A Happy Purim,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky