A Tent of Time
On Shabbat Zachor, how can we simultaneously remember Amalek and also erase their memory?
Boruch Hashem, the Mekor Habracha Gala last Sunday was a spectacular event and it appears that it was the most successful gala in our history. We are grateful to our honorees Rebecca Somach, Shaul Kushinsky, and Miriam and David Morley, for allowing us to present them with an honor so richly deserved. The gala is a critical event that's vital to our shul's survival, and we appreciate everyone who attended, took out ads, volunteered, and contributed in any way.
A memorable event is fittingly followed by the Shabbat of Memory, Parshat Zachor. Every year on the Shabbos preceding Purim, we read Parshat Zachor to commemorate the nation of Amalek’s attack on the Jewish people after we left Egypt. Until Amalek’s attack, because of God’s protection of us during Yetziat Mitzrayim [the exodus], we were untouchable. Nonetheless, Amalek’s hatred was so deep that they brazenly launched their war against us.
In response, God commanded us, תִּמְחֶה֙ אֶת־זֵ֣כֶר עֲמָלֵ֔ק, wipe out the memory of Amelek, a mandate that appears to constitute a form of genocide. To impose such a severe consequence, God must have been concerned with an evil even greater than Amalek's physical attack on us. I think the example of the Nazis can provide an instructive analogy to help us understand this commandment. It’s fair to say that a commandment to eradicate the Nazis instead of simply fighting back, would not be considered an overreaction, because the Nazi ideology was so pernicious that in the long run it could be infinitely more dangerous than their physical power. In the same way, Amalek must have espoused an evil philosophy that threatened the entire world. What was this dangerous philosophy that could potentially threaten the entire world?
I believe the answer can be derived from a famous question asked about the contradiction in Parshat Zachor: The Parsha begins with the commandment, זָכ֕וֹר אֵ֛ת אֲשֶׁר־עָשָׂ֥ה לְךָ֖ עֲמָלֵ֑ק , Remember what Amalek did to you, but it ends with the commandment תִּמְחֶה֙ אֶת־זֵ֣כֶר עֲמָלֵ֔ק, Erase the memory of Amalek. How can you simultaneously remember something and also erase its memory?
I think there is only one way to reconcile these two mandates, and it could be explained through a close reading of Parshat Tetzaveh, which is accompanied by Parshat Zachor, in most years. In the description of the Mishkan at the beginning of Parshat Tetzaveh, the tabernacle is called Ohel Moed, a tent of time. This is a strange juxtaposition – an ohel, a tent, delineates a space, but moed establishes a time. How can you combine two elements from different dimensions that seemingly have no connection to each other? What is a tent of time?
This unusual combination is reflected in the similarly puzzling concept of Gan Eden. Just like Ohel Moed, Gan means a garden or space, and Eden means time. In Gan Eden both could exist in the same realm because Gan Eden existed during the six days of Creation before the physical universe as we know it was complete and when everything was clearly connected.
Incredibly, we live in an era when Einstein and other renowned scientists have also calculated this truth, that space and time are interwoven into what’s called the space-time continuum. This discovery teaches us that space and time are not independent phenomena. They are inseparable concepts that can exist within one equation, in the same dimension. Similarly, the Torah teaches us that even in our physical universe we can have an Ohel Moed, a Tent of Time, because everything is still connected. Even small seemingly disconnected details are ultimately part of the bigger picture.
Therefore, those who claim that God only cares about the big things in life but not about the details are sorely mistaken. Ohel Moed teaches us that if big things matter to God, then small things and all the details must make a difference as well. All elements, even the seemingly disparate elements of space and time, are unified together. This outlook is the antithesis of Amalek’s philosophy. Amalek believed that the small things that transpire in our lives have no impact and therefore no value or meaning. Based on this view of the world, they concluded that God does not care about us and has abandoned us to the mercy of the ruthless and the powerful, so they attacked us.
But holding onto memories, is how small details accumulate into personal histories and larger patterns, and is proof that something has mattered to us and still does. Therefore, by the very act of remembering Amalek, we are negating their nihilistic take on life and preventing their triumph. And in this way, by remembering Amalek, we are also erasing their memory. That is how we can simultaneously remember them and erase their memory.
That is also the message of Purim. It is noted that God was hidden in the Megillah’s narrative; His name is not mentioned even once in the Megillah. But when we consider the perspective of Ohel Moed, and the way that each detail in the Purim story combined with every other detail to achieve the story’s glorious ending, we can discern the truth of God’s involvement. In this way we can be sure that every detail of our lives is memorable and therefore meaningful.
With this perspective in mind, and with the support of our wonderful community, as evidenced by our gala, God willing, Mekor will continue to create very meaningful memories for many years to come. Shabbat shalom.