Shalom to all my friends in Great Neck and to all my virtual friends, so many of whom I feel I know personally from your feedback and comments on my weekly emails. Today, I write to you from home, not my temporary home on Long Island but our true home, the land of Israel. I am here to commemorate my dear father's Reb Dovid ben Reb Zev OBM Yahrtzeit. When the plane touched down in Ben Gurion airport, an inexplicable feeling of warmth enveloped me for I knew I was home, in a country that G-d has said will always be ours. Yes, there is some tension in the air, for our enemies sent tow missiles from Gaza to Tel Aviv, but the miracles are so open thank G-d they did not hurt any one. The resilience of our people is strong and the courage of our brothers and sisters in Israel is enviable. Am Yisrael Chai permeates in every breath of their being and they inspire me with their tremendous trust in the Almighty.
Some things are constantly changing; some never seem to change. As I left the airport I listened to The radio station. Iran is in the news just as it was 2,300 years ago, in the days of Purim. "Again?" I think to myself. "Why do the Arab terrorists and Iranian leaders despise us so deeply? What did we do to them? Why did Moses command the Jews never to forget the enmity of Amalek? What was so bad about Amalek?"
The Shabbat preceding Purim (this week) is known as "Shabbat Zachor." On this special day, we read a portion, Parshat Zachor, from a second Torah that we use in addition to the one used weekly which talks about our war against the Amalekite Nation. Moses tells the people of Israel: Remember what the Amalekites did… you shall blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget.
Why this intensity toward Amalek? In Exodus, the Torah says that “G-d shall be at war with Amalek for all generations.” Why for all generations? Can’t we just forget, forgive, and move on? Are we a people of vengeance?
There is a very perplexing Midrash on this subject: [When Moses said to the people of Israel,] “Remember what Amalek did to you on the road when you were going out of Egypt,” the people of Israel said to him: “Moses our master! One verse states: ‘Remember what Amalek did to you.’ Another verse states: ‘Remember the day of Shabbat, to sanctify it.’ How can both be fulfilled? This one is ‘Remember’ and that one is ‘Remember’!”
Said Moses to them: “A cup of spiced wine is not the same as a cup of vinegar; There is a remembrance to keep and sanctify the day of Shabbat, and there is a remembrance to punish [Amalek]....”
This entire conversation seems strange. In the course of our lives as human beings, we are called upon to remember hundreds, if not thousands, of things every day: Why did the people of Israel have a problem with remembering both the sanctity of Shabbat and the evil of Amalek?
The Israelites had two enemies under Moses' leadership—the Egyptians and the Amalekites. The Egyptians enslaved the Israelites. They turned them into a forced labor colony. They oppressed them. Pharaoh commanded them to drown every male Israelite child. Yet about them, Moses commands: Do not despise an Egyptian, because you were strangers in his land.
The Amalekites did no more than attack the Israelites once, an attack that they successfully repelled. Yet Moses commands, “Remember... Do not forget... Blot out the name.” Why the difference?
The answer is simple and critical. There are two forms of hate in the world, just like there are two forms of love. A Mishnah in Ethics of the Fathers distinguishes between the two types of love: One is created for a reason, i.e. I love you because you give me pleasure, or because you are beautiful. When the reason is gone, the love vanishes. The other love is not rational. It is essential and unconditional; such a love endures forever.
Hate professes the same mechanism. There is a hate that has its source in rationality, even if it is a mistaken rationale, i.e. I hate you because I perceive you as a threat; I hate you because I am envious of you. I may be wrong in my calculation of you, myself and the situation at hand, but in this case there is hope for the hate to be mitigated. If I can come to realize that the reason for the hate is baseless, the hate will dissipate. It was brought on by a reason; when the reason is gone, the hate vanishes.
The other form of hate is unconditional, irrational and illogical. It is impossible to reason with irrational hate. It has no cause, no logic dictating it. It is an essential hatred. There is nothing one can do to address it and end it for it persists and endures.
That was the difference between the Amalekites and the Egyptians. The Egyptians’ hatred and fear of the Israelites was not completely irrational, even if it was terribly wrong. The Egyptians feared the Israelites because they were numerous. They constituted a potential threat to the native population. The opposite was true of the Amalekites. They attacked the Israelites when they were “weary and weak.” They focused their assault on those who were “lagging behind.” Why attack them? This was an irrational, groundless hate; this was hate without any benefit.
This message is clear in Moses’ words in Parshat Zachor: Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and attacked all who were lagging behind; they had no fear of G-d….
The Jews had difficulty with this commandment to blot out Amalek. Their question is strikingly moving: If we truly remember the Shabbat, which represents the notion that G-d created our world, how can there be such irredeemable evil in our world? Surely even Amalek’s animosity is not incurable; surely he too has a “spark of innocence” within him. His hatred must contain some good in it, somehow motivated by suspicion, or fear for his life. If so, there must be a way to reason with him.
Moses gave them a very profound response: There is wine and there is vinegar. One is tasty and delicious; the other is sour and tart. One brings joy to the soul, the other is acid to the soul. Yet one comes from the other: Vinegar comes from wine. From the very “wine” G-d gives us, some people can make vinegar. The world is G-d’s world, as expressed in the mitzvah of Shabbat, yet Amalek takes this very wine and makes it vinegar.
When describing the Messianic era, Maimonides writes that "At that time there will be no hunger or war, no jealousy or rivalry. For the good will be plentiful, and all delicacies available as dust. The entire occupation of the world will be only to know G-d... As it is written: "For the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of G-d, as the waters cover the sea."
Today the consciousness of the Divine is contained, so there is room for a cup of vinegar; Amalek’s hate, which stems from a complete absence of any true Divine awareness, thrives. When Moshiach comes, “the earth shall be filed with the knowledge of G-d, as the waters cover the sea"; the wine will not be limited; it will envelop the entire planet, just like the waters envelop and cover the entire seabed.
Moses tells Israel that until then irrational hate will live. We must fight it uncompromisingly, for there is no way to appease or cure it. The inner spark that exists even in Amalek and Haman is too concealed to be taken seriously at this time. So what do we do with such hate?
What did Mordechai do during the Purim saga? He understood that making compromises with Haman was futile. Mordechai didn't say, "The Jews will evacuate half of Shushan" (the capital city of the Persian Empire), so that Haman would be able to live in a ‘Judenrein’ city. Mordechai understood that their obstacle to peace was not the Jewish presence in a particular city, but in any city. It was not the one who was hated, but the one who hated, who needed to change, so Mordechai did not bow.
Today, too, Israel must stand up to the pathological hatred with moral and political self-confidence and determination. This is the path toward durable peace, in which both Jew and Arab can enjoy a life of tranquility. We must remember that Amalek does not die, but neither does the Jewish people. Attacked so many times over the centuries, we live on, giving testimony to the victory of the G-d of love over the myths and madness of hate. As long as we remain connected to G-d through Torah and Mitzvot, we will prevail.
In the spirit of the month of joy, Adar, let me share a last tidbit:
The Iranian president called Trump and told him, "President Trump I had a wonderful dream last night. I saw America, and each house had a banner."
"What did it say on the banners?" Trump asks. Hassan replies, "UNITED STATES OF IRAN."
Trump says, "You know, Hassan, I am really happy you called, because believe it or not, last night I had a similar dream. I could see all of Tehran, and it was more beautiful than ever. On each house flew a huge banner."
"What did it say on the banners?" Hassan asks.
Trump replies, "I don't know. I can't read Hebrew."
Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem and a joyous Purim!
I look forward to celebrating Purim together.
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
Tom Peacock wrote...