Parashat Tetzaveh, Exodus 27:20-30:10; Shabbat Zachor

This week’s parasha has been generously sponsored by Sara Levine Petroff and Steve, Jacob and Avi Petroff in loving memory of their grandmother, Rochelle (Ricky) Levine.
Kolel appreciates its weekly sponsors.
To sponsor a parasha, click here.

Pesach teaches that redemption is possible; Purim demonstrates that we have learned the lesson.

Study with Baruch Sienna

This week is Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat before Purim. The regular portion, Tetzaveh, continues with the details of the Tabernacle; the bulk of the portion describes Aaron's clothing and the ordination of priests. But in addition to Exodus, a second scroll is read, and this Shabbat (the second of four) is given a special name, taken from the first word of the additional portion: "Zachor, Remember". This year, Purim begins immediately after the conclusion of Shabbat, so we move from Shabbat right into Purim, so the connection between the additional portion (Deut. 25:17-19) about Amalek, and the special haftarah about Agag to the story of Purim is especially felt. Haman, the villain of the Purim story is descended from Agag, king of the Amalekites, just as Mordechai traces his lineage back to Shaul's family. The conflict of Purim seems to go way back; indeed, Amalek is descended from Esau and Saul is descended from Jacob.

But why does Amalek attack us in the first place? To appreciate the answer, first let me explain the concept 'smichut parashiyot.'
Sometimes when the Torah jumps from one story to another, the Rabbis like to connect the two seemingly unrelated juxtaposed verses. This is called 'smichut parashiyot.' Two classic examples are when the text says: Miriam died (Num. 20:1) and then continues "The community was without water..." Since Miriam almost always appears around water, and then in this verse immediately after the notice of her death, the community was without water, the Rabbis imagine a well that miraculously travelled with them that vanished when Miriam died. Another example is the story of Korach, which follows immediately after the portion of tzitzit, the command to wear a blue thread in the corner of our four cornered garments. The Rabbis again make a connection and supply the imaginary dialogue of Korach challenging Moses' authority by asking, what if the garment was entirely made of blue threads. Would it still need to have the blue thread in the tzitzit? (the answer, by the way, is yes).

So in our story, after the ten plagues, the splitting of the sea, the quails and the manna and the water, the Israelites grumble: "Is God with us or not?" The text then continues, "And Amalek came..." and the Rabbis see a causal relationship between their lack of faith and Amalek's attack. Amalek is seen as the archetype of non-believers (remember the Esau-Jacob conflict). When the Torah describes Amalek attacks on Bnei Yisrael when they were weary and they did not fear God, it is not clear if Bnei Yisrael did not fear God (because they were weary), or if Amalek didn't fear God and was prepared to attack defenseless civilians. Since the Torah usually uses the verb 'went' (vayetze) in the context of battle, but here the text says, 'came' (vayavo') the Rabbis imagine that Amalek was 'invited' so to speak.
Rashi connects Amalek's attack to Bnei Yisrael not seeing God in their midst:

This section is placed near the previous verse ("Is Adonai in our midst or not?") in order to convey (God's thoughts): "I am always among you and ready to fulfill your needs and yet you ask 'Is Adonai in our midst or not'? ! By your life ! The dog Amalek will come and bite you and you will cry out to Me and then you will know where I am" etc.

Rashi's comment is based on the following parable in the midrash:

God dealt with them as did a man with his son, whom he bore through the market on his shoulders. Whenever the child saw something desirable, he said, "Father, buy it for me," and he fulfilled the child's wish. After the son had in this way received many beautiful things from his father, he called to a passing friend of his father with these words, "Have you perhaps seen my father?" Then, indignantly, the father said to his son: "O silly boy, that sits on my shoulder! All that you did desire, did I procure for you, and now you ask of that man, 'Have you seen my father?'" Thereupon the father threw the child off his shoulder, and a dog came and bit him.

According this midrash, Amalek came and attacked Bnei Yisrael because it was the Israelites who demonstrated a lack of faith.

The question, 'Is Adonai in our midst or not?' is an appropriate question for the Purim story. After all, where is God? In the Purim story, God's hand is not visible. In the Megillah, the name of God does not even appear. But is God in fact, in the story? Is God simply hidden? Can you find God's name in these Hebrew words: Yavo Hamelech Vehaman Hayom Esther 5:4? (Hint: look at the first letters of each word.)

God is certainly not hidden in Exodus. In the story of the redemption from Egypt, God's role is central. This is the difference between Purim and Passover. The Exodus was special because God's redemption was visible. Note in the Haggadah, there is hardly even mention of Moses. At the sea, the Israelites saw the 'hand of God.' Rashi quotes the Mechilta: "A handmaiden saw at the Sea what even the prophets could not see." But the point is, just because God isn't sending frogs or splitting the Sea of Reeds doesn't mean that God is not there. This joke, that I've told many times, illustrates this point:

It was flooding in California. As the flood waters were rising, a man was on the stoop of his house and another man in a row boat came by. The man in the row boat told the man on the stoop to get in. The man on the stoop said, no, God would save him. The flood waters kept rising and the man had to go to the second floor of his house. A man in a motor boat came by and told the man in the house to get in. The man in the house said no thank you, God would save him. The flood waters kept rising. Pretty soon they were up to the man's roof and he got out on the roof. A helicopter then came by, lowered a rope and the pilot shouted down in the man in the house to climb up the rope. The man in the house wouldn't get in. He told the pilot that God would save him. The flood waters kept rising and the man in the house drowns. When he gets to heaven, he angrily confronts God; "I keep kosher, I go to shul on Shabbat and I pray every day. Why didn't You save me?"
"What more do you want from me?" asks God. "I sent you two boats and a helicopter."

Like the joke, on Purim, God is saying, "What do you want? I sent you Mordechai and Esther." In most of our holidays, God is the main actor. On Purim, humans are responsible for bringing redemption.

This tension, between what God is responsible for and what we are responsible for, brings us back to our reading. I have had the pleasure the past few weeks of studying this portion with my youngest son, who celebrates his becoming Bar Mitzvah this Shabbat. We spent a lot of time exploring the issue of 'wiping out Amalek.' In Exodus, we read of the Amalekites attacking Israel (Ex. 17:8). After the battle, God says, "Inscribe this in a document as a reminder, and read it aloud to Joshua: I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven!" But in the maftir from Deuteronomy, read on Shabbat, it says, "Remember what Amalek did to you...You shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!" (This is why we blot out Haman's name with noisemakers.)

But my son picked up on a slight difference: in Exodus God says "I will blot out..." (emcheh) but in Deuteronomy, the Israelites are commanded (You- timcheh) to blot out Amalek's memory. My son suggested that Bnei Yisrael were like babies when they left Egypt. God had to take care of their every needs. God provided them with food and water, and had to defend them. Forty years later, the Israelites have matured, and now we have to take responsibility for ourselves. So in Deuteronomy, God says, 'You' have to blot out their memory. The Rabbis suggest a different reason. They compare Amalek both to a vicious dog and to a fly. The difference is this: a dog who attacks with no provocation is not in our control. A fly, on the other hand, is attracted to a garbage heap. If we make sure we don't leave our garbage out, we won't be bothered by flies. So God is saying, 'I' will handle the former, but you must make sure that you don't 'invite' attack by your behaviour.

I think the absence of God in the story of Purim suggests a third interpretation. The cycle of holidays (in the Torah) begins with Passover. God alone- (according to the Haggadah): not an angel or a seraph, redeemed us from Egypt. And yet our cycle ends with our salvation on Purim, when God is behind the curtain, and human actors are centre stage. Now we have to bring redemption.

Pesach teaches that redemption is possible; Purim demonstrates that we have learned the lesson.

 

Shabbat Shalom & Hag Purim Sameach.

BDS