by Rabbi Yair Hoffman

It is the Shabbos before Purim. The shul is packed. The baal korei steps up to the bimah, and the entire congregation rises to its feet.

There is a hushed silence. Everyone – men, women, and even young children old enough to understand – leans forward to hear every word. The Torah is unrolled to the end of Parshas Ki Seitzei. The baal korei begins: “Zachor eis asher asah lecha Amalek…” – Remember what Amalek did to you…

There is something electric about this moment.

The Shulchan Aruch (OC 685:7) rules that Parshas Zachor is a Torah-level obligation – one of the very few times during the year when listening to the Torah reading is considered a biblical commandment.

The Mishnah Berurah adds that even people in outlying areas who do not have a minyan must travel to a place where Parshas Zachor will be read. This is not just another leining. This is a mitzvah of the Torah itself.

But why?

What is it about these few pesukim that carries such extraordinary weight? What does the Torah want us to do with the memory of Amalek – and isn’t it, at first glance, counter-intuitive to remember something in order to wipe out its memory?

Why did Chazal insist that we fulfill this Torah mitzvah specifically on Shabbos? And perhaps most importantly – how can we use this mitzvah to gain real inspiration in our Avodas Hashem?

To understand the answers, we need to go back to the very beginning – to the dawn of creation and the beginning of time itself.

UNLEASHED FORCES AT THE DAWN OF CREATION

Long ago, at the very beginning of time, different forces were set loose in the universe. Some were unleashed by Hashem Himself as part of the fabric of creation. Others were unleashed by the actions of mankind. There were forces of goodness and purity, and there were dark, impure forces. The universe was a battleground between these two opposing sides from the very start.

THE OHR HAGANUZ – THE HIDDEN LIGHT

One of the most remarkable forces created at the dawn of time was the Ohr HaGanuz – the Hidden Light.

The Gemara in Chagigah (12a) teaches that the light Hashem created on the first day of creation was not the light of the sun, which was only created on the fourth day. This original light was something far more powerful – a spiritual light so intense that a person could see with it from one end of the world to the other.

Hashem saw that the wicked would one day misuse this light, so He set it aside – ganaz it – for the tzaddikim to enjoy in the World to Come (Rashi, Bereishis 1:4).

But the Ohr HaGanuz is not only a physical phenomenon. The Baal Shem Tov (quoted in Toldos Yaakov Yosef, Bereishis) teaches that the Hidden Light is also accessible in a figurative, spiritual sense: tzaddikim in every generation are able to perceive the hand of Hashem in every event, in every detail of creation.

They see with absolute clarity that Ain Od Milvado – there is nothing other than Him. Through this clarity, they truly see from one end of the universe to the other – not physically, but spiritually. Every event, every challenge, every moment of beauty and every moment of suffering – it all leads back to Hashem.

This vision – this spiritual clarity – is the opposite of what Amalek represents, as we shall soon see.

MAN HAS BECHIRAH – THE POWER OF FREE CHOICE

Mankind was created differently from every other creature. Man was endowed with something called Bechirah – freedom of choice. A pre-frontsl cortex that contains within it – the power of choosing between good or evil.

The Rambam (Hilchos Teshuvah 5:1) writes that this is a fundamental principle of the Torah: every person has the ability to choose good over evil. We are not robots, nor are we AI. We are not pre-programmed. At every moment, we face a fork in the road, and the decision is ours.

A person could take the impure, destructive forces in the world and use them in his choice toward evil. He could spread cruelty, falsehood, and destruction. Or he could harness the pure forces of creation – truth, kindness, justice – and use them to build, to heal, and to elevate the world.

This is the backdrop against which the story of Amalek unfolds.

THE MAHARAL’S EXPLANATION – THE PRIMORDIAL DESTRUCTIVE FORCE

The Maharal, Rabbi Yehudah Lowe of Prague, was a towering giant in Torah knowledge. He was a master Talmudist and was also fluent in the deep, esoteric wisdom of Kabbalah. In one of his works, Ohr Chadash (Introduction, p. 51), the Maharal explains something profound.

He writes that the snake in Gan Eden – the nachash described in Bereishis – was not merely a talking animal. It represented the dark and impure destructive force that was woven into the fabric of creation. The evil Haman in the story of Purim also represented and tapped into that very same primordial force. The Sages of the Talmud were, of course, well aware of this deep connection.

The Talmud (Chulin 139b) asks a fascinating question: “Haman – from the Torah itself – where can he be found?” The Talmud answers with the verse in Bereishis 3:11, when Hashem turns to Adam after the sin and asks: “Hamin ha’eitz asher tzivischa levilti achol mimenu achalta?” – “Did you eat from the tree that I commanded you not to partake of?” The word Hamin is spelled with the exact same letters as Haman.

On a surface level, this might seem like a simple play on words – a coincidence of spelling. But the Maharal explains that the Talmud is not merely revealing a clever siman or mnemonic. Rather, it is telling us something deep about the nature of reality: the force that caused the downfall in Gan Eden is the very same force that defined Haman and his ancestor Amalek. \

It is the primordial force of destruction – of pulling human beings away from closeness to Hashem.

AMALEK – ME’UKAL – WARPED

Rav Chaim Vital, the primary student of the holy Arizal, adds another layer to this understanding. He explains (Eitz HaDaas Tov, Vol. III, p. 105) that the Hebrew letters of the name Amalek can be rearranged to spell M’ukal – which means “warped” or “distorted.”

Amalek represents the very peak of warped and distorted thinking. It is the force in the world that takes something pure and twists it beyond recognition. It takes justice and makes it into cruelty. It takes faith and replaces it with cold, cynical doubt. Amalek is the anti-thesis of everything that is pure and just.

AMALEK AND SAFEK – THE GEMATRIA OF DOUBT

The Bnei Yissaschar (Chodesh Adar, Maamar 9) brings a well-known and powerful observation: the numerical value (gematria) of Amalek (עמלק) is 240 – which is the exact same gematria as the word Safek (ספק), meaning “doubt.”

This is no mere coincidence. Amalek’s entire strategy, in every generation, is to plant seeds of doubt. Doubt in Hashem. Doubt in the Torah. Doubt in ourselves and in our mission. After Klal Yisroel experienced the miraculous Splitting of the Sea and the most open revelation of Hashem’s power the world had ever seen, Amalek attacked. The Torah says (Devarim 25:18): “Asher karcha baderech” – which Rashi explains (based on the Midrash Tanchuma, Ki Seitzei 9) comes from the word kar, meaning “cold.” Amalek cooled off the burning faith of Klal Yisroel. After the nations of the world stood in awe of Hashem’s people, Amalek came along and said, “It’s not so impressive. Let’s attack.” They were like a person who jumps into a scalding hot bath – even though he gets burned, he cools it off for others.

This internal battle with safek – with doubt – is something that every one of us faces. Every time a person thinks, “Maybe it doesn’t matter,” or “Does Hashem really care about this small mitzvah?” – that is the voice of Amalek whispering inside us. Parshas Zachor calls on us to fight that voice.

MORDECHAI – THE PRIMORDIAL FORCE OF GOODNESS

If Amalek and Haman represent the dark, destructive force of creation, then Mordechai represents the polar opposite – the primordial force of goodness. He is the cure, the antidote to evil and destruction.

The Gemara points this out as well (Chulin 139b): “Mordechai – from the Torah – where can he be found?” The Gemara answers based on the pasuk in Shemos (30:23): “Kach lecha besamim rosh, mor dror” – “Take for yourself the finest spices, pure myrrh (“mor dror”).” The Targum translates mor dror as “Mordechai.” This refers to the Ketores – the incense offering in the Beis HaMikdash – about which the Gemara in Shabbos (89a) teaches that it has the power to stop death and destruction.

Think about how fitting this is. Haman and Amalek represent the force that brings death and destruction into the world. Mordechai – connected to the Ketores – represents the force that stops death and destruction. These two forces have been battling each other since the beginning of time.

WHAT ESTHER AND MORDECHAI REPRESENT

The triumph of good over evil in the Purim story did not happen on its own. It came through the extraordinary actions of two remarkable leaders.

Esther represented self-sacrifice. She gave of herself so that the Jewish people would survive. Rav Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, the author of the Meshech Chochmah, explains that Esther’s original plan was breathtaking in its courage: she intended to give up her own life so that Klal Yisroel would be saved. That is why she never revealed her identity or her background – she was prepared to sacrifice everything. When she said (Esther 4:16), “Ve’ka’asher avadeti, avadeti” – “If I perish, I perish” – she meant it with every fiber of her being.

Mordechai represented chessed – lovingkindness. Rav Yerucham Olshin, shlita, explains that Mordechai’s greatness was rooted in his extraordinary acts of chessed. He looked after Esther – a young orphaned girl who had been taken to the palace against her will. For years, he watched over her, cared about her wellbeing, and never abandoned her. This chessed – this act of pure, selfless caring for another human being – was the merit that helped save Klal Yisroel.

The lesson is powerful: the forces of evil are defeated not through military might alone, but through self-sacrifice and genuine kindness.

PARSHAS ZACHOR – REMEMBERING OUR MISSION

With all of this as background, we can now understand Parshas Zachor on a deeper level. The Torah is not simply asking us to remember a historical event. It is asking us to remember our mission – the eternal battle of good against evil, of light against darkness, of truth against the distortions of Amalek.

Haman’s plan was the wholesale murder and destruction of men, women, and children who carry the message of Hashem in this world. That plan was defeated. How? Through the courage, self-sacrifice, and chessed of Mordechai and Esther. Through prayer, fasting, and teshuvah. Through the realization that our connection to Hashem is the most precious thing we have.

THE BRISKER RAV: ZACHOR VS. LO TISHKACH

Rav Yitzchak Zev Soloveitchik, the Brisker Rav, draws an important distinction between the two parts of this mitzvah. The Torah says (Devarim 25:17): “Zachor” – Remember. And then it says (25:19): “Lo tishkach” – Do not forget.

The Brisker Rav explains that these are two separate obligations. “Zachor” is a positive commandment – an asei – to actively remember what Amalek did, through speech. This is fulfilled by hearing Parshas Zachor read aloud from a Torah scroll. “Lo tishkach” is a negative commandment – a lav – that we must never let this memory fade from our hearts. One is about active remembering; the other is about never allowing ourselves to forget.

Together, these two obligations create a powerful message: this is not something we recall once and move on. This is something that must remain with us constantly – shaping how we see the world and how we serve Hashem.

THE RAMBAM’S FORMULATION

The Rambam codifies the mitzvah of remembering Amalek in Hilchos Melachim (5:5), linking it directly to the mitzvah of destroying Amalek as a nation. But the Rambam also writes (Sefer HaMitzvos, Positive Commandment 189) that the purpose of remembering is “so that the matter will not be forgotten and the hatred of him will not weaken or diminish with the passage of time.”

The Rambam understood that time has a way of dulling our feelings. An event that shook us to our core can slowly fade into a distant memory. The Torah commands us: do not let that happen. The evil that Amalek represents must always feel urgent and present to us. We must never become comfortable with it.

WHY ON SHABBOS?

Why did Chazal specifically ordain that Parshas Zachor be read on Shabbos? The answer touches on the very heart of what Shabbos means.

Shabbos represents the mission of Klal Yisroel – to build, to elevate, and to do the will of Hashem. The Sheiltos of Rav Achai Gaon explains that Hashem instructed us to rest on Shabbos just as He rested from all creative activity on the seventh day. By observing Shabbos, we declare our deep belief in Hashem as the Creator of the world.

But Shabbos is more than just rest. Shabbos has always been the symbol – the flag, as it were – of the Jewish nation. Just as a patriot looks at his flag and sees more than colored cloth with fancy designs – he sees the values, the sacrifices, and the dreams of his nation – so too, Shabbos represents everything that Klal Yisroel stands for. Shabbos is our declaration that we are builders and creators, not destroyers. That we follow Hashem’s blueprint for the world.

Reading Parshas Zachor on Shabbos, then, ties together these two ideas beautifully: we recall the forces of destruction that sought to annihilate us, precisely on the day that celebrates our role as builders and partners with Hashem in perfecting the world.

THE GENERAL DEBATE AMONG THE RISHONIM

There is a fascinating debate among the Rishonim – as to the underlying reason for the mitzvah of Parshas Zachor.

The Sefer HaChinuch (Mitzvah 603) understands this mitzvah as a practical measure: its purpose is to encourage and stir the men of Klal Yisroel to battle and to defend against an implacable enemy. Because the Chinuch sees this as connected to warfare, his position is that women are exempt from this mitzvah.

The Sefer Mitzvos Ketanos (SMaK) – authored by Rav Yitzchok ben Yosef of Corbeil (1210–1280) – disagrees. He holds that the reason is spiritual, not military: we read Parshas Zachor to internalize the awareness that Hashem saved us from the hand of Amalek, and so that we should always be in awe of Him, which will prevent us from sinning against His will. This position can perhaps be traced to the Targum Yonasan on the verse “Lo tishkach” (Devarim 25:19), who writes: “V’afilu l’yoma Malka d’Meshicha lo tisnashi” – that this mitzvah applies even in the times of Moshiach. If the purpose were only about going to war, it would not apply once Moshiach has already come. But if the purpose is about maintaining our awe and gratitude to Hashem, it is eternal.

THE MINCHAS CHINUCH: DO WOMEN HAVE THIS OBLIGATION?

The Minchas Chinuch (Mitzvah 603) raises an important halachic question that flows from this debate. If we follow the Sefer HaChinuch’s reasoning – that Parshas Zachor is connected to warfare – then women, who are not obligated in military combat, would be exempt. But if we follow the SMaK, who holds that the purpose is spiritual awareness and Yiras Shamayim, then women would be equally obligated.

In practice, many Poskim encourage women to attend the reading of Parshas Zachor. The Mishnah Berurah (685:16) notes that some authorities hold that women are indeed obligated. This is why many shuls today arrange a special second reading of Parshas Zachor specifically so that women who could not attend the main reading can fulfill this mitzvah.

THE NESIVOS SHALOM’S BEAUTIFUL DEFINITION OF YIRAS SHAMAYIM

There is a stunning explanation of Yiras Shamayim – fear of Heaven – provided by the Slonimer Rebbe, the author of the Nesivos Shalom. It is different from the explanation that is commonly given, and it has the power to transform the way we think about our relationship with Hashem.

Normally, when we think of “fear of Heaven,” we imagine being afraid of punishment – afraid that Hashem will punish us if we sin. But the Nesivos Shalom offers a completely different picture.

He gives a mashal, a parable: Imagine you are drowning in a vast, dark ocean. The waves crash over your head. You cannot breathe. You are certain that this is the end. And then, out of nowhere, a lifeguard appears. He jumps into the churning water and pulls you to safety. You grab onto him with every ounce of strength you have. Your arms are wrapped around him, and you are shaking, terrified – not of him, but of letting go. You are afraid that if you loosen your grip even slightly, the ocean will swallow you again.

That, says the Nesivos Shalom, is Yiras Shamayim.

We are afraid of losing Hashem. We are afraid of losing the connection, the bond, the relationship that is our very lifeline. Every aveirah, every sin, loosens our grip. And we are terrified of what happens if we let go.

When you love someone deeply – a parent, a spouse, a child – your greatest fear is not that they will hurt you. Your greatest fear is losing them. That is the Yiras Shamayim the Nesivos Shalom is describing.

THE ARIZAL: AMALEK AS AN INTERNAL BATTLE

The holy Arizal takes this even further. He teaches that the battle against Amalek is not only a physical, national battle against an external enemy. It is also an internal, spiritual battle that takes place inside the heart of every Jew.

Every time we experience a moment of spiritual doubt, a moment where we question whether our efforts in Torah and mitzvos really matter, a moment where the voice inside us says, “Why bother?” – that is the voice of Amalek. Every time we feel spiritually “cold” – when davening feels like a chore, when learning feels empty, when Shabbos feels routine – that is the cooling effect of Amalek.

Parshas Zachor is a call to arms against that inner Amalek. It reminds us: do not let the fire go out. Do not let the doubt win. Remember who you are and Whose you are.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

We now have several powerful layers of understanding that, when combined, paint a breathtaking picture.

The Maharal teaches us that the battle between Klal Yisroel and Amalek is a cosmic struggle between the primordial forces of good and evil – a struggle that has been raging since the very beginning of creation.

The Bnei Yissaschar and the Arizal teach us that Amalek is not only an external nation – it is an internal force of doubt and spiritual coldness that each of us must fight every single day.

The SMaK tells us that the purpose of Parshas Zachor is to awaken our awareness that Hashem saved us, and to fill us with awe of Him.

The Nesivos Shalom teaches us that this awe is not about fear of punishment – it is about the terror of losing our most precious relationship.

The Brisker Rav teaches us that we must both actively remember and never forget – this consciousness must be with us always.

The Rambam reminds us that time dulls our feelings, and the Torah commands us to never let the urgency of this battle fade.

The Sefer HaChinuch and the Ramban remind us that this remembering is connected to action – we must actively fight against evil in all its forms.

STANDING IN SHUL THIS SHABBOS

This Shabbos, when we stand in shul and hear Parshas Zachor, let us think about these layers. Let us remember that we are part of an ancient, cosmic battle – a battle between the forces that would destroy and the forces that build. Let us think about the Nesivos Shalom’s mashal and hold on to Hashem a little tighter. Let us think about the gematria of Amalek and safek, and resolve to silence the voice of doubt in our hearts.

Let us think about Esther’s self-sacrifice and Mordechai’s chessed, and commit to acts of courage and kindness in our own lives. Let us think about the Ohr HaGanuz – the Hidden Light – and strive to see Hashem’s hand in everything that happens around us.

And let us walk out of shul that Shabbos morning with a renewed sense of mission: we are Hashem’s people. We carry His light. And no force of destruction – no matter how ancient, how powerful, or how clever – will ever extinguish it.

The author can be reached at [email protected]