blogs/rabbi-huberman

The Most Vulnerable Among Us 

There is a somewhat disturbing passage -- or more precisely a troubling commandment  -- closing this week's Torah portion.

We are told that, whenever we encounter descendents of the Amalek nation, we are supposed to destroy them: their warriors, their families, their possessions -- everything.

This commandment seems so out of character with the spirit of Judaism.

Elsewhere, we are commanded to make peace wherever possible -- and, when war is inevitable, never to commit atrocities against survivors of a defeated nation. We are commanded to protect fruit trees, so that life can be sustained after the battle.

So why does the Torah break from these teachings and tell us to "blot out" Amalek?

The answer is in the very nature of Amalek itself. Our tradition recounts that, when the Israelites were leaving Egypt after centuries of slavery, Amalek swooped down and attacked, robbed, and abused the weakest of our people.

This included the disabled, the elderly, and others who could not keep up.

This act of cowardice placed such a communal scar upon the Israelites, that, as an act of revenge, we are commanded to wipe out all traces of this ruthless people. We are even told the Haman, the villain of the Purim story, was a descendant of this heartless nation.

Yet, even though the Torah deems Amalek an abomination, throughout history, our Sages have had trouble with this black and white view of good and evil.

It's in our nature to see others in a simple, binary categories; liars, cheaters, hypocrites, liberals, conservatives. Even in an age striving to embrace diversity, it's still too easy.

Life is about an entire spectrum of human behavior.

Is it therefore correct to assume that not all Egyptians, Germans -- or even Amalekites -- were complicit in atrocities committed against the Jewish people?

And therefore, over time many rabbis have taken a second look at this seemingly straightforward section of the Torah: "Blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven." (Deuteronomy 25:19).

And many have exhibited the chutzpah to turn the spotlight on Moses and the other leaders of the Exodus, asking the question: Were they blameless in the crimes of Amalek?

Many modern rabbis have dared to ask: even although what Amalek did was deplorable, "What were the weakest and the most vulnerable of our people doing back there in the first place?"

Why would we force them to keep up when we knew they couldn't? How is it possible that a supposedly compassionate people like the Israelites left our most helpless behind?

This question bears pondering today.

Within so many our synagogues and institutions, we focus on young people, the future, and Jewish continuity, at the expense of recognising and protecting the more vulnerable among us.  

This was the case with our synagogue. We recently decided to retrofit our restrooms with wider doorways and stalls, and our main entrance with ramps. But why weren't they what way from the beginning?

We have taken great strides in accommodating the physically challenged, but our work in blotting out our "inner Amalek" is not complete.

There also remains a stigma, even in 2017, on those addressing emotional challenges. This includes those combating mental illness or depression, or those in recovery from drug, alcohol, or other addictions. Too often we cover our eyes and ears to these issues, even as they grow to epidemic proportions.

The disease of addiction is too often maintained as a family secret, when there exists a full range of services and strategies to help support individuals and families in need.

Many say that these are not Jewish problems. But they are.

In many cases, Jewish communities are following the ill-fated footsteps of our ancestors who failed to recognized pain, isolation, and vulnerability within their midst. By turning our backs, we keep the spirit of Amalek alive and thriving.

Although we're commanded this week to blot out Amalek, we must challenge ourselves to do more, to do better.

We must destroy Amalek within each of us.

To not just look at those who are young, nimble and unburdened, but to truly see, and confront, the communal inaction towards those who most need our help and support.

We must ask ourselves, as individuals and as communities: What can we do to bring the most exposed within us -- and within all of humanity -- from the rear of the group to the heart of our people, to surround them with the services, resources, and compassion which will help make them whole -- which will make us all whole.

There can be no healing for us until there is healing for everyone.

The actions of Amalek were deplorable, but we as Jews must not fail to ask ourselves: Are we without blame?

Let us continue to look at our own synagogues, institutions, and communities, and ask, "Are we nurturing, protecting, sustaining the most vulnerable within our midst?"

Are we ready to not only wipe out Amalek from the earth, but also to blot our bias, our insensitivity and our inaction from within?

We must ask ourselves, "Who are we leaving behind?"

For there is none among us without blemish.

Some are just more visible than others.

...

Shabbat shalom, v'kol tuv,

Rabbi Irwin Huberman