On this coming Shabbat we arrive at one of the most morally charged moments in our liturgical year: Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat of Remembering.

The Torah commands us, in words that reverberate across centuries, “Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey.” The scene is searing. We have just crossed the Sea. We are newly liberated, disoriented, fragile. And Amalek attacks from behind, striking those who lag, those who are most vulnerable. The Torah does not describe a conventional battle between armies. It describes cruelty aimed at the stragglers: the tired, the children, those who could not keep pace.

And then comes the paradox. We are commanded to remember. And in the same breath, we are commanded to blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Remember, and erase. Hold on, and let go.

Rachel Goldberg Polin notes the irony that because we are told to eternally erase Haman, the descendant of Amalek, we have ensured that his name is never forgotten. The very act of ritualized erasure engraves memory more deeply. The Torah understands something about the human heart. Memory does not disappear through suppression. It is transformed through sacred framing.

So what is it that we are being asked to remember?

Not only an ancient tribe. Not only a historical enemy. We are asked to remember what........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)