Remember Who You Are…

A friend of mine has a tried and true way for breaking the ice at social gatherings. He asks all those present one question: If they were asked to put their philosophy on life on a bumper sticker, what would they write? The answer to this question is highly revealing about what a person values, what characteristics he believes are most important, and how he sees himself as part of a global community. For my bumper sticker, I drew from the Disney movie “Lion King.” Simba has exiled himself from the pride, and he lives with a wildebeest and a meerkat. They eat, they sleep, and they eat some more. “Hakuna matata (“No Worries” in Swahili).” One day, Simba sees the ghost of his father, Mufasa, the former Lion King. Mufasa chastises Simba, telling him that he has forgotten who he is, that he has thrown away not only his future, but the future of the pride who depend on him. As Mufasa fades away, he tells Simba, “Remember who you are…” That would be my bumper sticker.

“Remember who you are” is fitting not only on a personal level, but on a national level, as well. I am a proud Jew. The Jewish People are the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We were miraculously released after centuries of servitude to the world’s only superpower. We were given the Torah, G-d’s eternal message to mankind. Jews have been responsible for so many of the inventions and concepts that have made the world a better place – cures for diseases, developing new technologies, composing musical masterpieces, advancing causes of freedom, and human rights. As a nation that is more than 3500 years old, we have much to remember. We have been shaped by our experiences, forged by adversity, always looking to better our ways.

Part of the daily prayers of a Jew is the recitation of verses describing events that we are directed to remember. These events include life-altering things such as the exodus from Egypt and the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai.  One of the events that we are commanded to remember is the defeat of a small nation called “Amalek.” The Amalekites attacked the Jewish People immediately after they left Egypt. They attacked the rear of the camp, similar to a modern day rocket assault on a heavily populated urban area. Moses defeats the Amalekites by sitting on a rock and having two of his underlings – Joshua and Hur – hold his hands skywards. After the war is over, G-d commands the Jews, “Remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you went out of Egypt. How he happened upon you on the way and cut off all the stragglers at your rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear G-d. Therefore, it will be, when you are granted respite from all your enemies around you in the land which G-d gives to you as an inheritance to possess, that you shall obliterate the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens. You shall not forget!” 

Why is it so critical to blot out the remembrance of Amalek? They were just one of many nations that has attacked the Jewish People over the years. Why not blot out the memory of the Nazis or the Romans, who destroyed the Holy Temple and sent the Jewish People into an exile from which we have not yet returned? One answer that I find very compelling is that Amalek is less of an actual nation and more of a concept: Those who sow hatred of Israel in the world are the disciples and ideological descendants of Amalek. The Romans were descendants of Amalek. The Nazis were descendants of Amalek. In our time, Hamas and Iran are descendants of Amalek. We have seen so much evil over the years that we learn to recognize it. The message of blotting out the memory of Amalek means calling out evil and fighting it. It means not putting lipstick on a pig. It means asking hard questions and demanding answers. And when there are no answers, it means doing whatever needs to be done to rectify the situation, including the projection of force. There is no justification for the indiscriminate murder of teenagers at a festival. There is no justification for burning babies. There is no justification for taking hundreds of people hostage and keeping them in terror tunnels for a year and a half. There is no justification for firing thousands of rockets on heavily populated urban areas. And when the perpetrator says openly that he will repeat his horrific deeds again and again, then, as with Amalek, we must “obliterate their remembrance from beneath the heavens.” 

This week, Jews around the world will be celebrating the holiday of Purim, in commemoration of how the wicked Haman, second only to the King, tried to murder all of the Jews in the Persian Empire, how his plot was foiled, and how the Jewish People, instead of being slaughtered, emerged victorious over those who would have done us ill. This begs a question: Purim is the classic Jewish holiday: “They tried to kill us, they were unsuccessful, let’s eat.” This sort of thing has happened countless times in the past. Why do we celebrate particularly this unsuccessful scheme? I suggest that Purim, like Amalek, is an archetype. It is an archetype for all the times that we as a nation have faced evil, for all the times we stood up for what was right, regardless of the odds, for all the times we did not back down even when that would have been the wise thing to do. On Purim, we remember who we are and who we have the calling – and the capability – to one day become. 

Good things,

Ari Sacher