Parsha Kedoshim

Parashat Kedoshim
Nissan 26, 5771 ~ April 30, 2011
by Dan Cohen

Parsha Kedoshim – David Brooks, Melinda Gates and The Golden Rule

In honor of Baby Girl Davies.

Think about it…“What if Leviticus Rhymed?”

A great resource for understanding this week’s parsha can be found at http://www.g-dcast.com/kedoshim/. This week, they feature Beth Jacob’s own Elana Jagoda and her song on Parsha Kedoshim with animation and a sing-along tune. Hope you enjoy.

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A quick summary from Chabad.org to set the stage better and faster than I ever could.

The Parshah of Kedoshim begins with the statement: “You shall be holy, for I, the L‑rd your G‑d, am holy.” This is followed by dozens of mitzvot (Divine commandments) through which the Jew sanctifies him- or herself and relates to the holiness of G‑d.

These include: the prohibition against idolatry, the mitzvah of charity, the principle of equality before the law, Shabbat, sexual morality, honesty in business, honor and awe of one’s parents, and the sacredness of life.

Also in Kedoshim is the dictum which the great sage Rabbi Akiva called a cardinal principle of Torah, and of which Hillel said, “This is the entire Torah, the rest is commentary. That phrase is:

“and you shall love your fellow as yourself” (19:18)

(Mark Zitter reminded me that Hillel added…Now go study)

Commonly referred to in grade school civics as The Golden Rule, this is not Donald Trump’s message of “he with the gold, rules.” Instead, it is the Torah urging to us to think first of our divine connection to others. When we are intentional in our actions, we are conscious of our interconnectedness as humans.

Author David Brooks recently published “The Social Animal.” It’s a great read. In a New York Times column in 2008 that previewed much in the book, he said,

“Over the past 30 years, there has been a tide of research in many fields, all underlining one old truth — that we are intensely social creatures, deeply interconnected with one another…”

He goes on to add that in field after field of cutting edge research, findings show we are all connected at every level of our being. Brooks added:

Geneticists have shown that our behavior is influenced by our ancestors and the exigencies of the past. Behavioral economists have shown the limits of the classical economic model, which assumes that individuals are efficient, rational, utility-maximizing creatures. Psychologists have shown that we are organized by our attachments. Sociologists have shown the power of social networks to affect individual behavior. What emerges is not a picture of self-creating individuals gloriously free from one another, but of autonomous creatures deeply interconnected with one another.

I like to think about these modern developments in social science and compare them to the wisdom of our elders.

“A soul might descend to earth and live seventy or eighty years for the sole purpose of doing a favor for another--a spiritual favor, or even a material favor.” - Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov

The picture we are left with is that whether it’s the word of G-d, the wisdom of our elders, or the cutting edge of neuroscience, they all point to one thing, our unique calling to serve each other. We have available to us an opportunity to know great joy in recognizing that we are all in this together, in empathizing with a fellow human and then acting accordingly. That is my big takeaway from Kedoshim.

This notion of connectedness is found in many of the mitzvot outlined in the rest of the parsha. In the first Aliyah, right out the gate, in Chapter 19:9 and 10, we are told:

When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not fully reap the corner of your field, nor shall you gather the gleanings of your harvest….you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger.

Here, the Torah has set forth the original communal philanthropy program. The Torah recognizes that food is essential for every individual regardless of financial standing and shows us a path to help in ways that honor the dignity of both the donor and the donee. We are also shown that thinking first of others, sometimes even before they know of our help, can provide a pathway to meaningful engagement with our higher spiritual selves. Later in the first Aliyah verse 19:14 we see:

You shall not place a stumbling block before a blind person.

A while back Rabbi Dardik was discussing the verse above and how we might interpret it. The mitzvah can extend far beyond the literal translation, even to a person who was not blind at all, but simply unaware.

We owe it to ourselves to help the “blind” person achieve all that they may become -- not just to avoid obvious danger. I owe so much gratitude to those in the Oakland community who have opened my eyes to the beauty of our religion, to great Kosher wines, and to the opportunities that come with doubling down on a commitment to building our community. I am not alone.

In their book, “Give Smart. Philanthropy that Gets Results,” authors Thomas Tierney and Joel Fleishman provide a transcript from a speech given by Melinda Gates at the launch of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. In her remarks, she spoke of the recognition that every life in the world has fundamental value. That a child in California has the same inherent value as one born elsewhere in the world or even one born into the Gates family. This is the core of what drives the mission of their family’s philanthropy.

Remarkably, the family with the greatest wealth accumulated in our Common Era internalized one of the fundamental truths of the Torah. We serve G-d and each other best, when we acknowledge our interconnectedness and when we love and value others as ourselves.

Parshat Acharei Mot

Parashat Acharei Mot
Nissan 19, 5771 ~ April 23, 2011
In gratefulness for our 72nd Birthdays Neska Neska & Sheila D.

Aaron, the High Priest, is a changed man.
His two sons, Nadav and Avihu, have been lifted from this world.
Because of wanting to get closer to Hashem...to go spiritually higher.
He is the High Priest.
He, too, wishes to go spiritually higher...to bring the people closer to Hashem.
And in that desire
He must be careful of the details.

Each article of clothing is being put on precisely.
He has noticed his hands have a very slight tremor as he dresses himself.
He knows his every act has to be for Hashem and the people.
A very heavy responsibility.
Should he do something wrong, all know the consequences.
He has tied his sash around his waist... separating Olam Habah from Olam Hazeh.
So many people placing their trust in him.
He placing his trust in Hashem.
He must be careful of the details.

The hardest for him will be the service of the incense.
He will try not to think of his sons.
But how can he not, for a split second.
The memory is still too fresh.
He puts that aside.
He will be focused because this is the favorite service of Hashem's -
The scent of His people's wanting to do His Will.
Be careful of the details.

Focus Aaron.
It is for this that you were chosen.
It is for this that you make atonement for you and for Hashem's people.
You, too, were involved in the golden calf.
It is for this that you were chosen.
Focus Aaron.
Be careful of the details.

I cannot even fathom this temple service.
I cannot even fathom the Temple.
I cannot fathom the hard, hard work – every day.
I cannot fathom the amount of joy.
I truly cannot fathom the Temple.
I can see all the pictures I want.
I can squeeze my eyes shut and try to hear the sounds
The singing,
The smells.
I am too distant from it.
I can't get close enough emotionally spiritually.
I am too far removed....too far removed.
But what I do learn is – I must live my life being careful of the details while keeping joy.
If only...

This is Shabbos HaGadol. On of two Shabboses that the Rabbis gave a drash. In days of old. How blessed we are today to “have” Rabbi Dardik and Rabbi Davies and Rabbi Rozen and all who teach us daily – our children, our families, our friend, those whose names we don't even know and yes, the beggar on the street.

I LEARNED THIS DETAIL ABOUT PESACH FROM RABBI AYLAH Perhaps it is better to get the schmutz out of our hearts rather than the kitchen corners. Or perhaps getting the schmutz out of the kitchen corners also gets the schmutz out of our hearts.

Shabbat Shalom. May we all be blessed to have a fulfilling Pesach. Omeyn.

Parshat Metzora

Parashat Metzora
Nissan 5, 5771 ~ April 9, '11
by David Carasso

This week’s parsha, Metzora, details the procedure by which a metzora, someone stricken with tzaraat (a skin discoloration), becomes healed. 

Tzaraat is not a physical infection, but a physical manifestation of one’s sins, specifically verbal sins.  Therefore, it cannot be healed by a doctor, even should he win the Man’s Cup.  It cannot be healed by adopting “a healthy lifestyle” of jogging, green tea, or multivitamins.  Had there been a physical cause, the Torah’s prescribed treatment would make no sense.

My great⁴ grandfather, the Chatam Sofer, saw the metzora as a hypocrite – one who acts is if he is pure, while poisoning his entire environment.  This is a most destructive quality, as they appear righteous on the outside, but are unhealthy on the inside.  As it says, “On the day that healthy skin appears on him (bo) he is unclean.”  (13:14) A sign of the affliction is found in a person whose blemish is “bo” – “in him” – his internal character.  Rabbi David Aaron of Isralight once told me that evil isn’t obvious; evil doesn’t jump out in a devil suit.  That’s what we call “stupid”.  Real evil is smart, sexy, and has the appearance of good.  Like the metzora.

Unlike physical diseases, tzaraat does not go into effect as soon as the physical symptoms reveal themselves, but only when a kohen says “Impure!”  What more powerful lesson can there be to the speaker of lashon hara than to show him the true power of even a single word!


The purification ritual involves two live, kosher birds, cedar wood, crimson wool, and hyssop (14:4).  Rashi explains that birds are brought since they chirp incessantly – just as the speaker of lashon hara does, generally overtly without any guilt or concealment.  One bird is slaughtered (representing the malicious speech), and the other is sent away live (representing positive, kind words).  That explains the birds, what about the rest?  Since the affliction of tzaraat is caused by pride, Hashem commanded the metzora to be treated with cedar, hyssop, and crimson wool.  Logically!  No, symbolically.  The metzora was originally proud like a great cedar, but is now humbled down low, like a lowly hyssop bush.  The crimson dye for the wool comes from a worm, and the metzora is humbled again, reminded that in the end he will go to a place of dust and worms.  (Kids: think AOL.)

Why is the metzora’s purification conducted by a kohen?  Perhaps the most frequent victims of lashon hara are the rabbis, writes Rabbi Eli Mansour.  By needing the assistance and guidance of a kohen, a religious leader, perhaps the metzora will develop a proper attitude toward our rabbis.  We should treat our rabbis with the respect and sense of authority they deserve, and seek their guidance, just as the metzora does.


But before any of this ritual, something must happen first – the actual healing.  This healing must come from within the person himself, not externalities.  He must go outside the camp (14:3), find an isolated place, have a change of heart, and repent.  Only then can he be healed.

By being isolated, the metzora also helps others.  The Tur comments, “the nature of this disease is such that whoever deals with the metzora, or even talks to him, is infected with the disease” (13:45).  The Rambam (Mishnah Nega’im 12) adds that the metzora’s isolation is intended to seclude him from other people so they aren’t further damaged by his words.  The isolation is not a punishment, but a means for the metzora to start thinking about his actions, and to do teshuvah.  If he were allowed company, he could happily be among others with tzaraat, consoling each other without repenting.  Or so I’ve heard.


At this point, we’re done, right?  The metzora has gone into isolation, healed himself (sort of), and performed some rituals with a Kohen.  Done, yes?  Not quite.   He has to return to the camp, to society, and that means facing the people he hurt, and surrounding himself with the same funny co-workers that make it fun to talk smack.  The trick is to stay healed, to learn your lesson, not just in isolation, but also out in the real world.

As Rabbi Steinstaltz writes, “Teshuvah has two essential phases: a leap of disengagement from the past, and a lengthier, more arduous process of rectification.  The first phase is one of destruction, the second of reconstruction.  ...  One cannot, indeed must not, spend one’s whole life hiding, physically or spiritually, from one’s surroundings, much less from oneself.  Those who do, reveal weakness and impotence; but worse, they fail to follow through with the process of teshuvah that they originally undertook. …  Judaism’s purpose in not to nullify or shun the world we live in, but to heal and perfect it.”  (Teshuvah Ch. 9).

May we each make time for isolated reflection and improvement, and may we take those improvements out into the real world.

Shabbat shalom.

Parashat Tazria

Parashat Tazria

Adar-II 27, 5771 ~ April 2, 2011

by Diane Whitten-Vile

With this week's Torah portion, we learn a great deal about the ritual function of thekohanim (priests) in helping people cope with certain illnesses, particularly the illness of 'tzara'at,' or what is often mistakenly referred to as leprosy. This becomes the focus of sustained attention, presumably because it was quite common in the ancient Near East.

Basing themselves on a story found in the book of Numbers the Rabbis of the Midrash viewed tzara'at as an external sign of an internal decay. Illness became a symbol for corruption, immorality and callousness.

The link between illness and a lack of ethics arises from the story of Miriam's criticism of Moses' wife for being a Cushite. Clearly, Miriam uses her sister-in-law's ethnicity as a pretext for attacking her brother. Whereas Jewish tradition goes so far in rejecting racism that the Rabbis of the Midrash and Talmud justify Moses' selection of an African woman as his wife, Miriam is unable to restrain her harmful comments and her corrosive bigotry.

In a condemnation that neatly parallels Miriam's criticism that Moses' wife is too black, Miriam is stricken with an illness that leaves her skin a flaky white. Since her 'tzara'at' resulted from her critical words, the Rabbis naturally associated the two.

Thus, the biblical laws on 'tzara'at became an extended metaphor for self-centeredness, critical or slanderous speech, and hateful deeds.

Speaking and thinking ill of another person, construing their actions in the worst possible way, gossiping and spreading rumors which harm the reputation of another person--these activities are so widespread among our contemporaries that they no longer attract our notice at all. Half the channels on TV, it seems, are devoted to this kind of lashon hara. Yet they strike at the core of the kind of world Judaism is trying to establish. Those practices provoke a cynical disregard of human decency; they cultivate our suspicion of each other and our assumption that others are speaking ill of us behind our backs just as we are of them. How many times have you partaken in lashon hara, just to leave the conversation and think "I wonder if that person talks badly about me when I'm not around?"

My daughter, Hannah, told me the following parable which I thought was great, and many of you have heard I'm sure. She felt it was appropriate for this drash so here goes:

A man goes to his Rabbi and tells him that he has spoken badly about someone else, and he wanted to know how to make it better. The Rabbi told him to go home, get a big goose down feather pillow and poke a hole in it. After the feathers fall out, pick them up and put them back into the pillow. The man seemed satisfied and went home to attempt this task. However, the next day the man returned to his Rabbi and said "Rabbi, I poked a hole in the pillow, and the wind picked up the feathers and blew them all over the town and I couldn't pick them back up. (You know where this is going, right)? So the Rabbi said, "that is what lashon hara is like. Once you speak badly of someone, you don't know where it will go or how it will spread, and there is no taking it back."In the words of the Rabbis, "A loose tongue is like an arrow. Once it is shot, there is no holding it back."

A marvelous tale is told of a wandering merchant who came into a town square, offering to sell the elixir of life. Of course, large crowds would surround him, each person eager to purchase eternal youth. When pressed, the merchant would bring out the Book of Psalms and show them the verse "Who desires life? Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from guile."

In an age awash in corrosive mistrust, a lack of confidence in our public leaders, and an alienating sense of loneliness and isolation, there is little hope of establishing real community until we learn to speak a new language--one of responsibility, kindness and compassion.

Rather than spreading rumors to make others look bad, we can devise empathic explanations for why someone might have acted in a disappointing way.

Many thanks to my father-in -aw for always inspiring me with his weekly drashot, my daughter who remembers well what she was taught at OHDS and JCHS, and to Rabbi Bradly Artson whose writings always inspire.

Parashat Shmini

Parashat Shmini

Adar-II 20, 5771 ~ March 26, 2011

by Maxim Shusteff

Though I try to avoid self-absorbed public navel-gazing, I will risk starting on a personal note. I volunteered to write the mini-drash for Shmini because I recently made the proper date calculation to figure out my correct Bar-Mitzvah parsha (17 Adar II, 5752), and this was it. Why I didn’t know this before isn’t worth recounting here, but I decided this would be a good opportunity to delve into the parsha. So as I read it, I was more than usually attuned to possible personal interpretations that I might find and meanings that I might glean for my own spiritual path. And it was thus that I came across one of the more mysterious and poignant and troubling passages contained in the Torah – the deaths of Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu. After the dedication of the mishkan and the public seven-day inauguration of Aaron and his sons into the priesthood, we begin Parashat Shmini with another series of sacrifices, culminating with the appearance of the glorious presence of Hashem before all the people. What an awesome, wonderful, celebratory moment! The sin of the golden calf finally behind them, all the people sing with joy and prostrated themselves. It is here that Nadav and Avihu offer their strange/foreign fire, which Hashem did not command. They are immediately consumed by a fire that “issued forth from before Hashem.” The parallel language here is striking. Just a few verses earlier, when Aaron had successfully finished his sacrifices and the people saw the glory of Hashem, we read the same phrase word for word: vatetze esh milifnei Hashem, vatochal – “fire issued from before Hashem and consumed” (ate up) the offering. In that instance, it is clearly a sign that the sacrifices had found favor and acceptance with Hashem. If so, does that mean that Nadav and Avihu themselves became a sacrificial offering? Wasn’t the whole point of our sacrificial rites to underscore that Hashem was opposed to human sacrifice? If indeed that’s the case, why are the brothers punished so swiftly and completely, and in this way? What was it that made their foreign fire so intolerable? I think we might begin to find the answer in the equally mysterious response that Moshe makes to the deaths of the two brothers, telling Aaron that “this [event must be] what Hashem spoke of, saying by those near me I will make holy/be made holy” (the verb tense can have both meanings). To make holy is to set apart and to establish boundaries, to define what is acceptable and what is not in a certain context. Hashem is hamavdil bein kodesh lechol - he who differentiates between the holy and the ordinary. And thus for Nadav and Avihu, as newly-inaugurated priests, being very aware of that distinction had to be job number one. When the Torah tells us that the strange fire was one that Hashem had not commanded, it’s clear that Nadav and Avihu knew this. So they improvised and used a little creative license in bringing an offering. Is that so offensive? Another hint of what was amiss comes a few verses later, when Hashem speaks to Aaron directly, warning him and his sons against having wine and alcohol when they perform their services (“so that you will not die” says Hashem! more on this in a moment). Were Nadav and Avihu perhaps intoxicated when they brought their strange fire? Perhaps literally, from celebrating with the people, or figuratively “drunk” with religious zeal? If so, we seem to have a very clear statement from Hashem that religious zeal can be expressed in unacceptable ways. The warning “so that you will not die” appears several times in the preceding chapters, particularly when Moshe is describing the various details and duties of the priesthood to Aaron and his sons. With Nadav and Avihu we see why that warning is necessary: doing anything other than what you are commanded will bring the fire of Hashem against you. Most simply, then, this episode reads as a stern reminder that we must be very careful, precise and stringent with our observance of mitzvot. More broadly, it is the story of the Jewish people in microcosm: keep my mitzvot, says Hashem to the children of Israel, and you will become a holy nation, a kingdom of priests and a moral light unto the world. So that you will not die. Is Nadav and Avihu’s lack of caution simply the result of being “new on the job,” and priestly inexperience? Could they be expected to get everything perfect the first time? Isn’t their punishment disproportionate? Maybe not. Maybe they were indeed expected to get everything exactly right. Not so long ago, the nation was worshipping a golden calf. The mishkan and its sacrifices and all the details of its service (and all the 613 mitzvot) are an antidote to sliding back into such immorality. Aaron and his sons were specifically trained to carry out the sacrifices on behalf of the whole community. They got very specific instructions. To avoid another golden calf disaster, they would be the guardians and keepers of the right way of doing things, so improvisation and creativity, in this context, are not as desirable as we might think. Because the kohanim are commanded to carry out the sacrifices, they are in a position of authority and responsibility, and many commentators agree that Nadav and Avihu’s fate highlights the fact that those with authority or responsibility are held to a higher standard. The priests are also the educated class with very detailed training, so the same holds true for education and knowledge – learning brings with it greater responsibility and being held to a higher standard. Which brings me back to the personal dimension with which I started. The opportunities for learning and Jewish growth that Beth Jacob provides are unparalleled, as we all know. I happen to be a complete “learning junkie” – I crave new knowledge all the time on almost any subject. Which lately has meant taking advantage of many modes of Jewish learning in our community. The parsha reminds me that simply learning and gathering knowledge is not enough – action must follow. Once in possession of knowledge, a higher standard applies. May we each continue on the path toward deeper knowledge of Hashem and a closer relationship with the divine. Shabbat shalom.

Parashat Zachor

Parashat Zachor

Adar-II 13, 5771 ~ March 19, 2011 

by Joanne Jagoda

This week is known as Parasha Zachor or Shabbat Zachor, the Parasha of Remembering and is one of four special parashas preceding Purim.  We are commanded to publicly "hear" a select maftir to remember the lesson of what Amalek did to us.  I am struck by how we are a people for whom remembering, Zachor, is a significant ethical principle.  Altogether the verbzakhar appears in its various declensions. no less than one hundred and sixty-nine times." (Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi Zachor: Jewish History and Jewish Memory.        One of our most important tenets, Zachor et yom ha Shabbat, remember the Sabbath day, reiterates the story of creation and the institution of the Sabbath perhaps the single most unifying bond of the Jewish people. We are also called upon repeatedly to "remember" the exodus from Egypt, "zacher l'tzeat M'tzraim, another pivotal event in the formulation of our historical consciousness.  We are continually reminded as well to remember we were slaves in Egypt.  Rosh HaShanah is known as Yom HaZikaron, the Day of Remembrance where we recall that Hashem is the creator of the universe.  On this day as well, G-d is said to remember our deeds. We also have the Yizkor service several times a year when we remember our loved ones and pledge deeds of kindness in their memory.           It is an interesting question as to why it is a commandment to remember the heinous example of Amalek which certainly serves as a negative lesson qualitatively different than the other positive reminders, many of which serve to remind us of the nature of Hashem.  Amalek was a grandson of Esau, the son of a concubine. Our sages have suggested that Amalek absorbed Esau's hatred of the children of Jacob hearing his grandfather bemoan his fate and how Jacob had stolen his birthright. His name became associated with a nation known for its reliance on violence to prove its superiority.           We are introduced to Amalek in Exodus, XVII, 9-17.  The Israelites were camped in Rephidim and were unhappy, striving against Moshe because of their thirst. Once again they questioned why they were taken out of Egypt, forgetting about the miracles of the Reed Sea and the manna and were wavering in their faith.  "Then came Amalek and attacked Israel in Rephidim." When he attacked the weak and vulnerable from the rear in Refidim without cause, the true nature of the Amalekites was revealed.  Not a single nation had dared attack Israel except the Amalekites.  Amalek did not fear G-d.            It is in that time of doubting that our Sages say Amalek appeared.  Joshua fights with the people of Amalek by sword while Moshe is holding his staff from the top of a mountain; his fight waged through repentance and prayer.  Moshe finally prevails and Hashem tells Moshe he will blot out the remembrance of Amalek.  Moshe predicts, "...the Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation."  It is later in the book of Deutoronomy that we are commanded to hear the verses about Amalek:" Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey when you were leaving Egypt: how, undeterred by fear of God, he came upon you on the march when you were tired and weary, and struck down all those who were stragglers behind. And it will be when God has given you respite from all your enemies all around, in the land which the Lord, your God, has given to you as an inheritance to possess it, you shall erase the name of Amalek from under Heaven, do not forget (Deuteronomy 25: 17-19).      Though we are admonished to wipe out the remembrance of Amalek, we are exhorted to never forget what he did.  It is customary for the reader to read the verse two times as there is some question about the pronunciation of whether the word is Zacher or Zachor. This shows the importance of hearing every word correctly.  One should be very careful to listen to all the words, since most halachic authorities consider it a mitzvah to hear this portion once each year.  The Sages explain that the definition of "remembering" is to speak the matter aloud at least once a year. Since this is not considered a time-related mitzvah, women are obligated to hear the reading as well, though there has been much discussion about this point. If one accidentally missed Parshat Zachor, the obligation may be fulfilled by listening to the Torah reading on Purim itself, or to the weekly reading of Parshat Ki Tetzei(and according to many authorities, Parshat Beshalach as well). There is not a blessing on this commandment of remembering Amalek, since one does not make a blessing on destruction (even of the most evil of the peoples of the world).      In the text, interestingly the word used to describe Amalek's encounter is "asher kar'cha ba'derech" literally meaning that Amalek "happened" upon the Jews.  Despite the phenomenal events which had struck Egypt, the ten plagues and the splitting of the Reed Sea, this encounter demonstrated that the Israelites were vulnerable and could still be attacked.  However, they were attacked in a most cowardly way. In the Midrash Tanchuma it states,"When Israel came out of Egypt, and G-d split the sea before them and drowned the Egyptians within it, the fear of them fell upon all the nations. But when Amalek came and challenged them, although he received his due from them, he cooled the awe of the nations of the world for them. It was as if the Amalekites "cooled a hot bath", hence the word kar'cha, from the  root word kar, cold. Though they scorched themselves in defeat, they encouraged others to think they could prevail against the Israelites.      The attack of Amalek has taken on many symbolic interpretations.  For example, Rabbi Abraham Twerski in Living Each Week,  sees the the army of Amalek as the antithesis of Israel, the enemy of the Jewish people.  "Amalek personifies the forces of evil which threaten the spirituality of Jews in every generation, and there is a perpetual struggle between G-dliness and the evil connivances of Amalek.  It is the strategy of Amalek to undermine the spirituality of Israel at moments of weakness, coming upon them when they are weary, confused and bewildered, when they doubt whether G-d is among them.  Amalek isolates those that are weakest seducing them into cults and alien faiths." (p.140) His goal was to annihilate the Jewish people spiritually as well.       Parasha Zachor is always read the week before Purim.  Haman the Agagite is a descendant of Agag, the king of the Amalekites, who was initially spared by King Saul who grievously erred in not taking his life when first told to do so by Hashem.  This story is recounted in the special haftarah we will read on Shabbat Zachor, taken from I Samuel (15:2-34). Mordechai's lineage was traced to the line of King Saul's father, and just as Saul defeated Amalek and its king, Agag, so Mordechai foiled the plots of Haman "the Agagite" (Esther 2:5, 3:1,10).       Haman, as his ancestor Amalek, was the archenemy of the Jews who represented a spiritual force which he abhorred. Just as Amalek was eliminated, so was Haman.  There is an interesting parallel in the megillah, where it states that the story of Mordecahi and Haman should be recalled, "these days should be remembered and celebrated by every single generation...and these days of Purim should never cease among the Jews, nor shall their remembrance perish from their descendants." Esther 9:28-29.      Sadly we still have our Amaleks today.  In a fascinating  Op-Ed piece, "Israel Fears Amalek's Arsenal" in the New York Times, May 16, 2009, writer Jeffrey Goldberg discusses how Netanyahu considers Iran to be a modern day Amalek.  Goldberg explains, "Amalek in essence, is Hebrew for existential threat.  Tradition holds that the Amalekites are the undying enemy of the Jews... If Iran's nuclear program is, metaphorically, Amalek's arsenal, then an Israeli prime minister is bound by Jewish history to seek its destruction, regardless of what his allies think."      Sometimes as much as one would like to forget Amalek, Haman, Hitler and our current day "Amaleks," such as Ahmadinijad, we cannot.  As our history has shown us,  we are obligated to remember the lesson of Amalek and to heed the prophetic words of Moshe, "the Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation." We have seen that in every generation we have to contend with the external threat of those who wish to annihilate us, as well as the continual internal challenges where we must strive to strengthen our spirituality.