Our homes are filled with them, and there is no lack of nosh for quite a while.

Way back in my yeshiva days in Telz, as youngsters, we had long lists of friends to whom we “just had to give shalach manos,” all of them residing in the dormitory. You can just imagine what the place looked like after Purim, and the baal tashchis was staggering. Until someone came up with the idea to collect all of the nosh and deliver it to an orphanage. In later years, with a house full of kids, the leftovers disappeared rather quickly. There were times when we tried to act as responsible parents and bought their mishloach manos from them to avoid cavities and excess energy. But that inspiration did not last very long.

Now that, boruch Hashem, they all have families of their own, our empty nest remains loaded with the goodies like never before — and wines galore. We receive bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Riesling, Chardonnay, and others. But since I cannot handle anything stronger than light cream pink Concord, most of the bottles go to relatives or neighbors. As for the nosh, I bring it to yeshiva for my talmidim, who do not seem to mind accepting it, despite the abundance of nosh they bring from home.

There is also another kind of leftovers — the pleasant memories of a family Purim seudah with children and ainiklach, with singing and divrei Torah. But even more meaningful is a machshavah that caught your attention and inspired you over Purim. This is a leftover that is eternal and could have a life-altering effect. May I share with you one such leftover, a thought so basic to our hashkofas hachaim?

Chazal tell us, “Let the honor of your talmid be as dear to you as your own honor.” They derive this from the fact that Moshe Rabbeinu said to his talmid, Yehoshua, “Choose people for us and go do battle with Amaleik…” (Shemos 17:9). Moshe included Yehoshua together with himself (Mechilta, Shemos 17:9). Why is this lesson taught specifically during the war against Amaleik?

Rav Yitzchok Hutner, in his classic sefer Pachad Yitzchok, explains that regarding Amaleik, the posuk states, “Hashem maintains a war against Amaleik from generation to generation” (Shemos 17:16). Beyond the simple meaning that there is a war against Amaleik in every generation, there is another implication: The war against Amaleik is fought through the unification of generations. Amaleik flourishes where there is a breach in Klal Yisroel. When there was a lack of achdus among our people, Haman was able to be mekatreig against us: “There is a certain people scattered and dispersed among the peoples…” (Esther 3:8). To rectify this, Esther told Mordechai, “Go assemble all the Jews to be found in Shushan” (ibid. 4:16). That is also why the chachomim instituted the mitzvah of mishloach manos — to bring us together (Manos Halevi).

Amaleik also thrives when there is a gap between generations — between father and son, and between rebbi and talmid. We are paying a heavy price to this day for the deviation of the Haskalah movement from the ways of our fathers and rabbonim of previous generations. They looked at their forebears with disdain, claiming that they were not in tune with the times, and forged new paths. This led to the Reform and Conservative movements, and today, because of them, most of our brethren r”l do not know what it means to be a Jew. The same could be said of the Zionist and socialist movements that led so many Yidden astray.

In contrast, see how wonderful a chareidi community is — how uniform, how organized, how strong it is in its educational mosdos and chesed organizations. How beautiful its families are, generations living side by side, celebrating many simchos together. What great energy is generated by the unification of generations and the continuity of shared values and ideals, our holy mesorah reaching back to Moshe Rabbeinu and the avos and imahos.

While Amaleik sought to cool our devotion to Hashem — “asher korcha baderech” — we sustain our dedication to Hashem and the Torah by strengthening the links of our precious legacy. This is why the close relationship between Moshe and Yehoshua, the quintessential rebbi and talmid, is emphasized in the battle against Amaleik. It is our greatest weapon against him, our insurance policy against his intrusion into our holy portals. We hold tightly to the ways of previous generations and do not allow foreign winds to enter our midst.

The other day, while on the treadmill, I heard a news commentator say, “In the olden days, people’s opinions were formed primarily by what they learned from their parents at home and from their teachers in school. Nowadays, however, with advances in technology, there is so much more available to develop our opinions — the vast number of publications, the internet, and podcasts.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added that perhaps there is a disadvantage to this overload of information, as it can cause confusion. One does not have to be very astute to see the confusion in America today. There are so many voices, many of them promoting corrupt ideas, bereft of moral content. Secular youth hear so much venom directed against their government that they have lost pride in their country and appreciation of true liberty.

Today, it is often detrimental for them to rely on parents and teachers, who themselves live in a state of confusion, and the teachers’ union plays a significant role in this. We cannot take comfort in present policies that enhance the country, because circumstances can change drastically with the possibility of bizarre ideologies prevailing in future elections. Amaleik has the gematria of 240, the same as sofeik, doubt. This is the power of our greatest nemesis — to create doubt and cause people to lose focus and direction. How different this is from our beautiful way of life.

How crucial it is to follow mesorah is illustrated by the following incident. One of our greatest poskim, the Maharshal, Rav Shlomo Luria, felt that at a siyum of a masechta, the brocha of shehasimcha bime’ono should be recited in the introduction to Birkas Hamazon, because there is no greater joy before Hakadosh Boruch Hu than the simcha and song of Torah. He planned to do so at a siyum, but the celebration was disrupted by great uproar and tumult. The Maharshal attributed this unfortunate incident to his attempt to institute a custom he had never heard from his rabbeim (Yam Shel Shlomo, Bava Kamma, Merubah 37).

When Haman returned home after the humiliation of leading Mordechai on the king’s horse and complained to his advisors and his wife, they told him, “If Mordechai before whom you have begun to fall is of Jewish descent, you will not prevail against him, but will undoubtedly fall before him” (Esther 6:13). This statement is puzzling. Was there ever doubt that Mordechai was a Jew? Was he not known throughout Shushan as Mordechai HaYehudi?

The Chiddushei Harim explains that it means that if Mordechai descends from generations of Jews steadfastly faithful to Hashem, untainted by foreign influences, then you have no chance of defeating him. In light of what we have said — that Amaleik thrives on a disconnect in our mesorah — this is understandable. The energy generated by continuity is the key to defeating him. This is a precious leftover from Purim that we must savor.

Even today, foreign ideas can infiltrate our midst in ways not seen in previous generations. Tznius is not merely a mode of dress. It is a way of life — living humbly, without fanfare, and with less indulgence in physical pleasures.

So many views are expressed in print today. Do we know their sources? Who are the writers, and what do they represent? Are their ideas rooted in daas Torah, or do they stem from the modern secular world? The vast scale of literature can cause confusion. We are careful with the hechsheirim on our food. At least as important is the kashrus of the material that shapes our hashkafos.

If we are not vigilant, if we do not cling carefully to our mesorah, we risk living in a state of ad delo yoda — confusion — throughout the year. Strict adherence to mesorah sharpens the sometimes-blurry distinction between arur Haman and boruch Mordechai.