On Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat just before Purim, we read the narrative of Amalek, recalling a time when another nation sought our destruction. This story is intentionally placed here in our calendar as Haman, the villain of our Purim story, is believed by rabbinic literature to be a descendent of Agag, king of the Amalekites.
Rabbinic tradition traces Haman’s lineage back past Amalek to Esau, rooting the conflict in the struggle between Jacob and Esau.
As we read this text, we are struck by the contradictory commandment to both blot out the name of Amalek and to never forget.
What does it mean to both forget and remember at the same time? Perhaps it is a commandment to remember the depths of human cruelty, without allowing that memory to imprison us in fear.
It also forces us to ask not only what caused our pain, but if we ourselves played a role? For when we look deeper at the character of Amalek, we must ask not only what did Amalek do to us, but what did we do to Amalek?
We read in the book of Genesis that Amalek’s mother was Timnah, a concubine of Esau’s son. Further, a few verses later we read that she was also the sister of Lotan, a Canaanite chief, promoting her status to that of royalty.
How did a woman of royal status end up as a concubine? Rabbinic literature teaches us that Timnah sought to convert to Judaism, coming before Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but they refused to accept her as a convert (Sanhedrin 99b).
Rejected and deflated, Timnaי was still determined to become part of the God-fearing nation of the Israelites, deciding to accept the lowly rank of concubine to Eliphaz, since he was Isaac’s grandson. And from this union she bore Amalek who caused Israel so much distress.
The stories we see before us often seem straightforward, but within them is hidden detail that we only discover when we are willing to truly open our eyes.
Timnah’s character forces us to read more carefully, and more compassionately. It reminds us that exclusions can have consequences, and that our tradition demands we look beyond first impressions to treat others with dignity, regardless of their differences.
Perhaps if the patriarchs had treated Timnah with such compassion, the story of Amalek, and the suffering that followed, might never have been written.
Image: Battling the Amalekites, Pauwels Casteels, 17th century (Wikimedia Commons)
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