Vayikra
Shabbat Zachor
Leviticus 1:1-5:26
Deuteronomy 25:17-19
I Samuel 15:2-34
Let me put it starkly. At this point in the history of the Jewish people, the text we read this Shabbat may be the most troubling text in the Torah.
Shabbat Zachor, the “Shabbat of Remembrance,” takes its name from the Maftir reading added to this week’s regular portion. “Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt — how, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore, when the Lord your God grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!” (Deut. 25:17-19)
At the time at which it was given, this text embodied an essential theology of memory. Tragically, this teaching has taken on layer upon layer of new meaning, as we have encountered one ruthless enemy after another in our journey through history. The name Amalek has come to stand for the many peoples who have tried to destroy us. The command, “Remember!” has been seared into our collective identity. It has become for many Jews the very center of their Jewish self-understanding.
The problem is that we have learned this lesson too well, at times allowing it to overshadow the rest of Torah’s wisdom. Like all survivors of severe trauma, the memory of being attacked has lodged in a deep and vulnerable place in our collective psyche. Unlike other memories that can be reinterpreted as life continues to unfold, traumatic memories unconsciously define how survivors see the world around them and the possibilities for the future.
One cannot reason with traumatic memory, question it, even consider reinterpreting its meanings and implications. Traumatic memory deprives survivors of choice and freedom, dooming them to a life of self-reinforcing victimization. To the extent that one continues to be driven by stories of past persecution, it becomes impossible to envision a future different from the past.
The sober reality is that many, from Amalek through Arafat, have tried to destroy us. The problem is that a Jewish identity based primarily on the command to remember past cruelty robs us of the ability to respond to other Torah commands about memory.
Memory stands at the center of another piece of Torah, far more essential to Judaism than the call to remember past persecution: “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.” This commandment, too, begins with the searing word zachor — remember — that we associate with Amalek and with the Shoah.
The command to remember the Sabbath day speaks of the unique Jewish practice of erecting a sacred palace in time. It teaches that we must regularly free ourselves from the physical and cognitive burdens that may enslave us throughout the work week. Here, the commandment to remember calls us to pay attention to the beauty of the created universe and to open ourselves to the miracle of being alive. This commandment summons us to cease our daily efforts to tamper with creation, to impose our will on the world around us, and to recreate life in accordance with our own limited understandings.
The command to remember the Sabbath insists that we step back and just be, appreciating the exquisite life that we are given. Shabbat enforces a weekly pause in a life of routine and unconscious drives. It bids us to rest, to let go of habitual patterns and constricted vision. It gives us a glimpse of the world to come, as the rabbis said, opening us to possibilities we might not otherwise have seen.
As Jews we surely must remember what our people have suffered through history. But to live an authentic Jewish life, we must also remember the lessons of Shabbat: the wisdom of resting, letting go and considering new possibilities that only God can fully see. May our use of memory be for blessing.
Rabbi Amy Eilberg is a spiritual director in private practice.