Remembering Shabbat Zachor

I presented the kavanah (literally intention) before last night's synagogue board meeting. I remembered only the day before that I had agreed to do this. I scoured my books looking for something along the lines of community, long-range planning, or other items on the agenda. I couldn't find anything that I liked, so I turned to this week's parsha. I still don't know much about this week's parsha, but I learned that it is Shabbat Zachor, one of four special Shabbatot during the year. I did some look ups on "the Google" and left my brain to noodle on it overnight. I present my final copy.

Zachor et asher-asah lecha Amalek baderech betsetchem miMitsrayim.

"Remember what Amalek did to you on your way out of Egypt.
When they encountered you on the way, and you were tired and exhausted, they cut off those lagging to your rear, and they did not fear God.
Therefore, when God gives you peace from all the enemies around you in the land that God your Lord is giving you to occupy as a heritage, you must obliterate the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. You must not forget." (Deut 25:17-19, translation from Navigating the Bible.)

Purim is next week, which means that this Shabbat is Shabbat Zachor. For those who don't know or who don't remember what Shabbat Zachor is, it is the Shabbat before Purim, literally the Shabbat of Remembering (See how I did that? Those who don't remember…)

We are told that we must remember what Amalek did to us, we must tell every generation. Apparently it is a mitzvah that will be fulfilled only when the memory and name of the Amalekites has been erased from the world. I've never written a d'var torah before, there are different ways I could go if I were:

• the idea that there is a problem with the idea of this mitzvah being fulfilled since the name Amalek is in the Torah, or


• the violence associated with the idea of obliterating the Amalekites (kind of like how we like to reconstruct the end of the Purim story because of how gruesome it gets), or


• the idea that some believe there is an Amalek in every generation.

No, let's think about what the Amalekites did, they cut off the stragglers in the rear, those who couldn't be protected. I see it as kind of a metaphor for the people who don't have a voice, whether they don't know they could have a voice, or whether some wheels are so squeaky as to drown out the quieter folks, or even the ones who are afraid to say anything.

As we work through our tasks as leaders of the community, let's remember that it's important to hear all the voices of community, loud or quiet, front-runner or straggler.