Beshalah
Exodus 13:17-17:16
Judges 4:4-5:13
Sir Moses Montefiore, the 19th century British financier and philanthropist, dreamed of visiting the cave of Machpelah in Hebron where, according to Jewish tradition, the matriarchs and patriarchs are buried. But Jews and Christians were not permitted access to the Arab-controlled site. That is why, in 1819, he obtained a letter from the sultan of Turkey directing the authorities to allow the distinguished visitor into the cave.
Arab chieftains faced a dilemma. They could not disobey the sultan’s request, yet they did not wish to let any Jew into the cave. Therefore, they told Montefiore, “The sultan’s letter says we must admit you to the cave, but it does not say that we must let you out.” Montefiore decided against going into the cave of Machpelah.
Resolving the struggle between two opposing thoughts is a common dilemma of human existence. Psychotherapist Carl Jung commented, “Every psychological extreme secretly contains its own opposite or stands in some sort of intimate and essential relation to it.”
In his book “The Crack Up,” F. Scott Fitzgerald also reflected on this countering of reason: “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.” Indeed, no decision is free from the nagging thought that the opposite side may have something legitimate to contribute. Such a struggle enables a person to better appreciate the concept of paradox, the grasping of two opposing ideas at the same time. It is a word derived from the Greek para, meaning “contrary” and dokein, meaning “think.”
Chinese provides a graphic illustration of the meaning of paradox. In that language, the word for paradox is maodun, meaning “contradiction.” It is written by combining the characters for spear and shield. The symbol originated in the folklore of an arms seller who bragged that his spears were so sharp that they could penetrate anything and his shields were so sturdy that they would repel anything. A suspicious customer asked what would be the result of using his spears against his shields. The seller could not answer!
Paradox challenges basic assumptions about reality and often catches people off guard when one expected notion or firmly held belief is opposed by another idea.
A paradox — that of remembering and forgetting — is a central theme in this week’s Torah portion, Beshalah, one of two portions that make reference to Amalek (Exodus 17:8-13; Deuteronomy 25: 17-19). Amalek attacked the wandering Israelites, picking off the stragglers and the weak. The text speaks of him in harsh terms: “V’lo yarei Elohim — he did not fear God,” and cautions the reader, “You shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. Do not forget” (Deut. 25:19). Almost in the same breath, the Torah admonishes, “Remember what Amalek did to you” (Deut. 25: 17). These are odd injunctions — remember to forget, and do not forget to remember, and they raise the question of how to resolve the paradox between forgetting and remembering past events.
Nachmanides, the medieval commentator, interpreted the simultaneous remembering and forgetting of Amalek by suggesting a resolution for this delicate balance: Do so only so long as there are those who continue to appear who are like him; keep Amalek in mind only until the last oppressor is gone.
By extension, this perspective has application for our own lives. Whereas remembering past hurts can be an important defense, conversely, hanging onto old hurts and slights forever can embitter people’s lives. There comes a time to let go of old hurts and, perhaps, even to forgive those who have wronged us. It is a compromise that requires careful consideration because each of us is a battleground for the struggle between the wolf and the lamb, Moses and Pharaoh, and many other different kinds of opposing ideas. The challenge is to chart a course through the extremes that tug at our hearts and minds and pull and push us toward or away from an objective.
Beshalah serves as a reminder that we should not harbor hurts and slights forever; when we no longer need them, we should do a little spring-cleaning.