Tag Archives: Amalek

Deciphering Bilaam’s End of Days Prophecy

‘Balaam and the Angel’ by John Linnell

This week’s parasha is Balak, named after the Moabite king that sought to curse Israel. Balak hired the sorcerer Bilaam to do the job, but instead of cursing Israel, Bilaam’s mouth would utter blessings and prophecies. The parasha is perhaps most famous for Bilaam’s last prophecy, concerning acharit hayamim, the “End of Days” (Numbers 24:14-25):

“I see it but not now, I behold it, but it is not soon. A star will go forth from Jacob, and a staff will arise from Israel which will crush the princes of Moab and uproot all the sons of Seth. Edom shall be possessed, and Seir shall become the possession of his enemies, and Israel shall triumph.” When he saw Amalek, he took up his parable and said, “Amalek was the first of the nations, and his fate shall be everlasting destruction.” When he saw the keini, he took up his parable and said, “How firm is your dwelling place, and your nest is set in a cliff. For if Cain is laid waste, how far will Assyria take you captive?” He took up his parable and said, “Alas! Who can survive these things from God? Ships will come from the Kittim and afflict Assyria and afflict those on the other side, but he too will perish forever.” Bilaam arose, left, and returned home…

What is the meaning of these cryptic words? The first part seems relatively clear: in the distant future, a leader will arise for Israel who will “uproot all the sons of Seth”, meaning all of mankind, who come from Adam’s third son, Seth. Israel’s enemies will be defeated for good, as will the evil Amalek. Bilaam is, of course, speaking about Mashiach. Then it gets more complicated. Who is the “keini”? Why does he dwell in a nest? What does Cain have to do with anything, and who is Assyria taking captive?

Balak’s Bird

The parasha begins: “And Balak ben Tzippor saw all that Israel had done to the Amorites, and Moab became terrified of the people…” The Zohar comments on the name Balak ben Tzippor (literally “Balak, son of a bird”) by saying that Balak was a powerful sorcerer who was able to do all sorts of witchcraft using various birds. One of those birds was called Yadua, and through it he was able to see visions. What did Balak “see” that made him so terrified of Israel?

The Zohar says that Balak took the Yadua bird as usual and performed his rituals, but this time, the bird flew away. When it returned, he saw the bird engulfed in flames, and this made him fear Israel. Why did the image of a flaming bird strike fear in Balak’s heart? What does this flaming bird have to do with Israel?

The Phoenix

In almost every culture around the world there is a myth of a magical flaming bird. The ancient Egyptians worshipped Bennu, the “solar bird” which lived for 500 years before being reborn from its own egg. The Persians spoke of Simurgh, a peacock-eagle that lived 1700 years before igniting itself in flames, and had lived so long that it saw civilization destroy itself three times. The most famous version of the myth is from the Greeks, who called the flaming bird Phoenix. The name derives from the fact that the bird comes from, and sets its nest, in the land of Phoenicia.

Phoenix by FJ Bertuch (1747-1822)

Phoenicia is another name for Lebanon, whose territories once overlapped with Israel’s. The Phoenicians and Israelites had very similar cultures and used the same alphabet. The Tanakh describes the central role that the Phoenicians played in the construction of the First Temple. They sent skilled artisans and builders, as well as gold and the cedar trees that served as the Temple’s framework. King Solomon gave the Phoenician king Hiram twenty Israelite cities around the Galilee as a gift. The two merged their navies and did business together, and are even described as “brothers” (see I Kings 5).*

In the Greek account, the eternal Phoenix builds its nest in one of the cedars of Lebanon before the nest catches fire and the Phoenix is cremated into ash. From the ashes emerges an egg, and the selfsame Phoenix hatches from it. This story is very similar to one told in the Midrash.

In the Garden of Eden

The Midrash (Beresheet Rabbah 19:5) describes what Eve did after eating the Forbidden Fruit. She gave some to Adam, and then

… She fed [the Forbidden Fruit] to all the beasts and all the animals and all the birds. All of them listened to her, except for one bird, called Hol, as it says, “Like the hol that has many days” (Job 29:18). The School of Rabbi Yannai said: “It lives for a thousand years; and at the end of a thousand years, fire comes out of its nest and burns it and leaves the size of an egg from it, and it comes back and grows limbs and lives.”

According to the Midrash, it wasn’t just Adam and Eve that ate the Fruit, but all living things had a taste, making them all mortal. However, there was one bird that did not listen to the humans, and flew away, escaping death. It lives one thousand years, then burns to ashes in its nest, and is reborn. Adam, too, was meant to live in segments of one thousand years, being reborn each millennium. However, after eating of the Fruit, his life was capped at a single one thousand year segment. (Of this 1000 years, he gave up 70 to King David, which is why Adam lived 930 years, and David exactly 70. See ‘How Did Adam Live 930 Years?’ for more.)

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 108b) also speaks of this immortal bird. Here, the Phoenix is waiting patiently for Noah to give it food, so he blesses it with eternal life. In both Midrashic and Talmudic passages, the scriptural source is Job 29:18, which speaks of Hol, the Hebrew term for the Phoenix. Why was Balak terrified when he saw an image of the firebird?

The Bird’s Nest

Some of the most ancient Jewish mystical texts are collectively known as Heikhalot, “Palaces”. These texts describe the ascents of various sages to the Heavens, and their descriptions of what they see. For example, Heikhalot Zutrati describes the ascent of Rabbi Akiva while Heikhalot Rabbati describes that of Rabbi Ishmael. In their description of the Heavenly architecture, the residence of Mashiach is called kan tzippor, the “Bird’s Nest”. This moniker is used throughout later Kabbalistic texts as well. Mashiach is said to be dwelling in a bird’s nest.

Mashiach’s role can be summarized in this way: his task is to complete the various spiritual rectifications (tikkunim) and return humanity to the Garden of Eden. Central to this is restoring a world without death—the world of resurrection. Note how Jewish prayers never request for us to enter some kind of ethereal afterlife in the Heavens, but rather to merit techiyat hametim, the resurrection of the dead, here in the earthly Garden of Eden. The Sages refer to that world as Olam HaBa, the world to come; not some other world or dimension, but the coming world that is here. (See here for more on the Jewish perspective on the afterlife.)

Mashiach is the one who is supposed to defeat death and usher in that world of resurrection. The Sages actually describe two messiahs: Mashiach ben Yosef, and Mashiach ben David. The role of Mashiach ben Yosef is to fight Israel’s wars and defeat its enemies, paving the way for Mashiach ben David to re-establish God’s kingdom. However, amidst the great battles, Mashiach ben Yosef is supposed to die. This is first mentioned in the Talmud (Sukkah 52a):

What is the cause of the mourning [at the End of Days]? Rabbi Dosa and the other rabbis differ on the point. One explained: the cause is the slaying of Mashiach ben Yosef; the others explained: the cause is the slaying of the Evil Inclination… Our Rabbis taught: The Holy One, blessed be He, will say to Mashiach ben David (May he reveal himself speedily in our days), “Ask of Me anything, and I will give it to thee”… When [ben David] will see that Mashiach ben Yosef is slain, he will say to Him, “Master of the Universe, I ask of Thee only the gift of life.” God answered him: “As to life, your father David has already prophesied this concerning you, as it is said, ‘He asked life of Thee, Thou gavest it him, [even length of days for ever and ever].’” (Psalms 21:5)

The Talmud links the death of Mashiach ben Yosef with the death of all evil. Mashiach ben David will then ask God to restore Mashiach ben Yosef to life, and God answers that He had already granted that request long ago to David himself, as seen from a verse in Psalms. Ben Yosef will die, then return to life, followed by the return of all the righteous dead after him.

Not surprisingly then, the symbol of Mashiach ben Yosef is a Phoenix, and he dwells in a “bird’s nest”. The Phoenix is said to take residence in the cedars of Lebanon, which is also associated with Mashiach ben Yosef, as it says in Psalms 92:13: “The righteous one will flourish like a palm tree, he shall grow like a cedar in the Lebanon”. [For those who like gematria, the term “cedar” (ארז) has the same value as “ben Yosef” (בן יוסף).]

‘Phoenix’ is one of the 88 constellations in the night’s sky. A modern map is on the left, and a 1742 depiction from Johann Gabriel Doppelmayr’s Atlas Coelestis is on the right. Every year, a meteor shower (called the Phoenicids) appears at the Phoenix constellation, from July 3 to July 18.

Warships in Syria

This is precisely what Balak feared when he saw the Phoenix. He realized that his plot to destroy Israel would fail miserably. Moreover, he saw that he would be the very ancestor of Mashiach, since he is a great-grandfather of Ruth, who is the great-grandmother of David! Unable to work his own magic, Balak summoned another sorcerer, Bilaam. It is highly appropriate that Bilaam’s final prophecy was regarding the End of Days and the coming of Mashiach.

Bilaam sees the “keini” in his nest—Mashiach—and says “… if Cain is laid waste, how far will Assyria take you captive?” What does Mashiach have to do with Cain? The Arizal explains that the tikkun associated with Cain is the most significant, for Cain is the one who actually brought death into the world. He is the first murderer, having killed his brother Abel. Abel’s was the first ever death. If Mashiach is to remove death from the world for good, he must rectify that primordial event.

And so, Mashiach ben Yosef is a reincarnation of Cain, and he must die as a measure for measure rectification for Cain’s murder of Abel. And who is Abel? Mashiach ben David, the one who brings about the resurrection of Mashiach ben Yosef! The brothers finally make peace. Cain and Abel are the two messiahs, and their mission is to restore peace to the entire world—after all, they were the ones that brought conflict into the world to begin with.

What did Bilaam say? He saw the keini, the one of Cain, in his nest. He is taken captive by Assyria—amidst a great battle that brings massive warships from the West—and “will perish”. He must perish because he is Mashiach ben Yosef, and through his demise all death and evil die with him. With these words, Bilaam fittingly ends his prophecy of the End of Days, for that event is the very end of the world as we know it, and the start of an entirely new era into which even Bilaam could not peer.

This week in the news: the USS George HW Bush, one of the largest warships in the world, docks in Haifa, Israel, on its way to a mission in Syria. Does the current Syrian conflict play into Bilaam’s prophecy?


*After the kingdoms of Phoenicia and Israel were destroyed, their outpost of Carthage in North Africa remained. This trading post had become a powerful city-state, and challenged Rome for control of the Mediterranean. The greatest Carthaginian leader was Hannibal. While many are familiar with Hannibal, few are aware of his last name, Barak (Latinized as Barca). Recall that the Biblical Barak was Deborah’s military general. He hailed from the tribe of Naphtali, and it is precisely from this region that Solomon gave Hiram twenty cities. Considering that Hiram and Solomon had combined their navies and traded together across the Mediterranean and Red Sea together, it is very possible that Carthage was one of the joint Israelite-Phoenician outposts, and Hannibal was a descendent of the Biblical Barak! Interestingly, Hannibal spent the last years of his life in Greek Syria, and helped Antiochus III conquer Judea. Unlike his son Antiochus IV (of Chanukah fame), Antiochus III was very friendly with the Jews, and supported Jerusalem’s Temple.

Embracing Converts, and the Seeds of Amalek

'The Meeting of Jacob and Esau' by Gustav Doré

‘The Meeting of Jacob and Esau’ by Gustav Doré

This week’s parasha is Vayishlach, which recounts Jacob’s return and settlement in the Holy Land after twenty years of living in Charan. At the end of the parasha is a long list of the genealogies of Jacob’s brother, Esau. The list seems unnecessary, and many Sages have wondered why the Torah bothers to spend so much time recounting Esau’s descendants. There have even been debates on whether the entire text of the Torah is equally holy, or if passages like the Ten Commandments are holier than passages such as this list of Esau’s genealogies. Meanwhile, the Arizal states that many of the deepest secrets of Creation are embedded particularly in this seemingly boring and superfluous passage. He draws particular significance from the list of the kings of Edom. The Arizal says these kings are codenames for the Sefirot, and a careful reading of the text reveals the cosmological rectifications (tikkunim) required to repair all of Creation and restore the world to perfection.

About half way through the list we are told that “… the sister of Lotan was Timna” (Genesis 36:22). Again, the Sages are baffled at this extra addition. We already care little enough that there was once an Edomite chief named Lotan – who cares that he had a sister named Timna? The Talmud (Sanhedrin 99b) notes how there were those who scoffed at such verses, saying: “Did Moses have nothing better to write?” And then, the same page of Talmud comes in to explain its tremendous significance:

Timna was a royal princess… Desiring to become a proselyte, she went to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but they did not accept her. So she went and became a concubine to Eliphaz the son of Esau, saying, “I’d rather be a servant to this people than a mistress of another nation.” From her, Amalek was descended, who afflicted Israel. Why so? Because they should not have repulsed her!

The Talmud combines the verse in question – which states that Timna was the royal sister of the chief, or prince, Lotan – with an earlier verse (36:12) that says she married Esau’s son Eliphaz and bore Amalek. She wished to convert to Judaism and approached the Patriarchs. All three rebuffed her. So, she ended up with Eliphaz – the closest she could get to being part of the nation. This union gave rise to the evil Amalek, that antagonizing force which has been oppressing Israel for millennia. The Sages state that the Patriarchs should have embraced this potential convert, instead of pushing her away. Their failure to open their arms led to centuries of Jewish suffering. The Talmud sends a pretty clear message: gentiles and converts should not be turned away, and doing so only breeds more resentment against Jews, bringing out all of the world’s “Amaleks”.

Soulmates of Jacob and Moses

The Arizal comments on the Timna passage and points out something even more amazing. He taught (Sha’ar HaMitzvot, Shoftim) that Timna was actually the soulmate of Jacob! Timna contained a great deal of holiness, and Jacob was meant to convert her and marry her, thereby elevating her spiritual sparks. That would have been a massive tikkun of its own, and would have hastened the coming of Mashiach. Instead, Jacob rejected her, and she went on to produce Amalek, bringing evermore evil into the world, and further delaying the coming of Mashiach.

The Arizal highlights that Moses made a similar mistake in not consummating his marriage to the Cushite (Ethiopian) woman. Both Tzipporah and the Cushite woman were Moses’ soulmates, and while Moses did the right thing in converting the Cushite, he never properly married her. Her sparks of holiness were not fully elevated, and the tikkun was left incomplete. This is why Aaron and Miriam were upset with their brother, as we read later in Numbers 12:1, “And Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married…”

Rabbi Akiva’s 24,000 Students in Shechem

In this week’s parasha, too, we read how the people of Shechem genuinely wished to unite with Jacob’s family, agreed to circumcise themselves, and converted en masse. However, Jacob’s sons Shimon and Levi rejected them and resorted to violence in avenging what was done to their sister Dinah. Jacob was horrified at the actions of his sons, and later did not bless the two on his deathbed. It appears their sin was never forgiven, as hundreds of years later the tribes of Shimon and Levi were not given set borders within the Holy Land, but only a handful of cities interspersed among the other tribes. Kabbalistic texts reveal that Shimon and Levi killed 24,000 people in Shechem, and these 24,000 converted souls later reincarnated as the 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva!

All of these narratives point to the same lesson: converts should be welcomed and accepted wholeheartedly. They have the potential for great holiness. The Talmud (Bava Kamma 38a) states that a gentile who occupies himself with Torah is equal to a kohen gadol, a High Priest! The Arizal describes five types of Jewish souls, and the souls of converts are among the purest. (The other types are “Old Souls”, “New Souls”, “True New Souls”, and the “Souls of Cain and Abel”. Of these, the most impure are Old Souls.) It goes without saying that there is no place for racism of any kind within Judaism – Moses himself married a black woman, and was reprimanded for not being diligent in consummating that union.

Historically, Jews were never the proselytizing kind. There are no Jewish missionaries that go out knocking on the doors of gentiles to seek converts. At the same time, Judaism was rarely a popular religion to convert in to. But this will change very soon, and we have to be ready for that day, for the prophet Zechariah (8:23) predicted:

It shall come to pass that ten men shall take hold – from all the languages of the nations – shall take hold of the corners of a Jew’s clothes, saying: “We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you…”

Purim: The First Jewish Holiday

Next Wednesday evening brings the festive holiday of Purim, the last in the Jewish calendar year. Most have heard the basic story: the Jewish people are dispersed across the vast Persian Empire, where an evil minister (Haman) has devised a plot to exterminate them all on one fateful day. Mordechai and the secretly-Jewish Queen Esther save the day. The whole narrative is recorded in Megillat Esther, a short text at the end of the Tanakh. While every Jew (and most gentiles) have heard of Passover, the High Holidays, and Chanukah, Purim remains among the lesser-known Jewish holidays. And yet, in several places across our holy texts, Purim is recognized as being essentially the greatest of holidays, and the only one to remain following the coming of Mashiach. For example, the midrash of Yalkut Shimoni (in Passage 944) states:

…כל המועדים עתידין ליבטל וימי הפורים אינן בטלים לעולם

“All the holidays are destined to be nullified, but the days of Purim will never be nullified for eternity…”

An 18th-Century Megillah

An 18th-Century Megillah

Purim is not only the last holiday on the Jewish calendar year, but the last to remain in the future. What are we to make of such statements? What makes Purim so special that it stands alone among holidays that will be commemorated by Jews for eternity?

To properly answer this question requires first answering a more fundamental question: When did Judaism begin?

The First Jew

What is the starting point of Judaism? When can we say for sure that the Jewish people had their beginning? Who was the first Jew?

Some erroneously believe that Adam and Eve were the first Jews. This is, of course, grossly incorrect, as the Torah views Adam and Eve simply as the first civilized humans. More commonly, people point to Abraham as the first Jew. Though he is certainly the first of the forefathers, and the point at which the tradition – in some shape or form – begins, it is very hard to describe him as “Jewish”. After all, the Torah in its full form wouldn’t be revealed until centuries later. So, it must be Moses and the Israelites, who received the Torah at Sinai following the Exodus. Surely, they were the first Jews! Indeed, most people would pick that moment as the official start of the Jewish people.

Yet, the truth is that those Israelites were practicing a very different religion. There were no synagogues in those days, no amidah prayer and no tehillim, no volumes of Talmud to study, and the events of Nevi’im and Ketuvim, Chanukah, Purim, and Tisha b’Av (among others) wouldn’t happen until far in the future. This was a religion centred on sacrificial offerings (the details of which we read in this week’s parasha of Vayikra, and the rest of the Torah’s third book).

Today, we have no korbanot, no pilgrimage festivals, no Temple or Mishkan, no death penalties, no polygamy, no prophecy, no slavery, no tithes, no priests, no Canaanites, Amorites, Moabites, or Amalekites. Though this Shabbat we will read parashat Zachor to remember the evil Amalekites and remind ourselves to destroy them, we have no idea who the “Amalekites” actually are in our times!

The Judaism of today – focused on Torah study, prayer, and halakhah – is completely different than the ancient Israelites’ religion of sacrifices, agricultural laws, and priestly laws. And, of course, those Israelites certainly weren’t known as “Jews”.

Having said that, we are undoubtedly bound by a chain of tradition, and there is a clear evolution from ancient Israelite to modern Jew. At which point did everything change?

The Birth of the Jewish People

Some 2500 years ago, the Kingdom of Judah was destroyed, together with its Holy Temple. While the previous destruction of the Kingdom of Israel resulted in most of its populace being scattered across the Assyrian Empire, the Kingdom of Judah did not suffer the same fate. Instead, the people of Judah (among them many Benjaminites and Levites, as well as refugees from the other Israelite tribes which fled to Judah when the Kingdom of Israel was destroyed) were taken captive to Babylon.

The Temple, with all of its sacrifices and offerings, was gone, and so were the priestly rituals. The people were no longer farmers on their own lands; the many agricultural laws of the Torah no longer applied. Pilgrimages festivals in Jerusalem were no longer possible either. To survive, the religion had to undergo a major transformation.

In Babylon, offering sacrifices was not possible, so the people began to offer prayers instead. Making pilgrimages was not possible, so people gave the festivals new meanings, and celebrated them with feasts at home. In Babylon, observing the Torah’s laws directly was not possible, but studying the laws was, so this is what the people did, preserving the law in their hearts and minds. Not surprisingly, those who best knew the law were most respected. The priest gave way to the rabbi. And perhaps most importantly, across the Babylonian domain, as the various Israelite tribes blended together and assimilated, ancestral history became blurry, and everyone simply became known as a “Yehudi”, from the name of the most populous of the tribes, and the last surviving kingdom, Judah.

Thus, it is really at this point, in Babylon, between the First and Second Temples, where Judaism as we know it is born. And this is precisely the time of Purim.

The First Rabbi

Purim takes place during the time of the Babylonian Captivity, after the destruction of the First Temple, and shortly before the construction of the Second Temple. It is in Megillat Esther that we are first introduced to the “Jews”:

There was a Yehudi man in Susa the capital city, and his name was Mordechai, the son of Yair, the son of Shim’i, the son of Kish, a Benjaminite. (Esther 2:5)

'The Triumph of Mordechai' by Pieter Lastman (1624)

‘The Triumph of Mordechai’ by Pieter Lastman (1624)

Mordechai is from the tribe of Benjamin, yet he is described as a Yehudi. As we continue reading, we see no more mention of any specific tribes of Israel. Rather, the text always refers to the people, wherever they were across the 127 territories of the empire, as Yehudim. They had now officially become, not Israelites or Hebrews, but Jews.

Their leader is Mordechai: not a priest, not a Levite, not a king, and not a prophet (at least, not according to the plain text, though later traditions suggest that he really was a prophet). Back in the land of Israel, the leadership used to be held firmly by the Kohanim in the Temple, and by the royal family in the palace. In Babylon, none of that mattered. Mordechai was simply a wise man, a respected communal leader and advisor. One may even argue that Mordechai is history’s first “rabbi” in the proper sense of the term.

Purim as Independence Day

By the time the Jews were permitted to return to Israel, and finally rebuild the Temple, they had become accustomed to their new religious ways. Soon, the Great Assembly compiled the Tanakh, and laid down the first texts of prayer and blessing. The Second Temple was not nearly what the First Temple had been; it was devoid of the Ark of the Covenant and the Urim and Tumim. The age of prophecy had ended, too, as did the monarchy. Though there was a return to Torah law, the law was superseded by imperial law, now that Israel was a vassal of the Persian Empire, and then the Greek, and finally the Roman.

A split among the Jewish people was slowly developing: There were those who wanted to return to the ways of ancient Israel, centred on the Temple, together with its priestly and agricultural laws. And then there were those who wanted to maintain the ways that had developed in Babylon. Ultimately, they would form two groups: the Tzdukim, or Sadducees, and the Perushim, or Pharisees. Their names reveal much:

Though it is thought that “Tzduki” comes from the name of their founder, Tzadok, it nonetheless shares a root with tzedek, as this group thought they were the correct ones, following the proper ancient way. Meanwhile, “Perushi” literally means “separatist”, as these were the “reformers” trying to change the ancient system. Not surprisingly, the Tzdukim were primarily composed of the priestly classes, who wanted to restore their central role among the people, while the Perushim were composed primarily of the scholarly class. Perhaps to distance themselves from the Perushim, the Tzdukim rejected any concept of an “Oral Tradition”, and stuck firmly to what is written in the Torah. The Perushim, meanwhile, maintained that there is an ancient tradition dating back to Moses.

As the priests, the Tzdukim controlled the Temple, and relegated the Perushim to the sidelines. Ironically, this sealed their doom, for when the Second Temple was destroyed, the Tzdukim and their faulty ideology collapsed with it. Not dependant on a Temple, the Perushim survived. Rabbinic Judaism and the Oral Torah thrived along with them. And here we are today.

This entire chain of events was set in motion with the story of Purim, which describes the rise of the Jewish people, and their salvation from the brink of destruction. Had it gone another way, Haman would have finished off what Sennacherib and Nebuchadnezzar started; the Israelites would have perished, and Judaism as we know it would have never emerged. And so, Purim is a sort of “Independence Day” for the Jewish people. The Midrash describes Purim as the last of Jewish holidays because, ironically, it is really the first of Jewish holidays!

We can now better understand, beyond the chronological reasons, why the short Megillat Esther was included in the last sections of the Tanakh. What began at the birth of humanity with Adam and Eve, then progressed through Abraham and the start of monotheistic faith, and was propelled onwards by Moses and the prophets that followed, culminated with the final formation of the Jewish nation. The Tanakh thus presents us with a clear, sequential evolution from start to finish. Abraham was called Ivri, a Hebrew, and Jacob became Israel, with his twelve sons founding twelve tribes that ultimately came out Egypt. Those tribes settled in the Holy Land, but were later scattered across the successive Assyrian-Babylonian-Persian Empires. And it was in the Persian Empire that we truly became Jews. The Tanakh essentially ends on that note, its central narrative having been completed.

The End is Wedged in the Beginning

Sefer Yetzirah famously states the principle that “the end is wedged in the beginning, and the beginning is wedged in the end.” Based on this, we can see a far more profound reason for why Purim alone will be celebrated in Messianic times. As the story of the Jewish people’s official beginning, Megillat Esther also encodes within it the secret of the end.

The Megillah describes a world where Jews are scattered from East to West, fractured apart, assimilating. God is nowhere to be seen. In fact, Megillat Esther is unique in that it makes no explicit mention of God anywhere in the text, as if everything is simply up to chance, hence the name Purim, literally “lotteries”.

Indeed, the world we see today is a mirror of that described in Esther: Jews are once again scattered all over the world, fractured and assimilated, living in a seemingly Godless universe. Once again, we are confronted with intense hatred, and many seek our extermination. The rest of the world is blind to this, appeasing those very people who openly state their aims of annihilating the Jews. It goes without saying that, once again, Persia is at the centre of this threat. With everything that’s going on in the world, there seems to be little hope.

But Purim comes along and reminds us that God is with us, as hard as it might be to see. Salvation will surely come, and from the unlikeliest of places. In the final moments, everything will flip upside down. Just as Haman was hanged on the very gallows he prepared for Mordechai, those who seek to eliminate the Jews will succumb to their own evil devices. And the Jewish people will once again have, to quote the Megillah (8:16), “light, joy, happiness, and honour.”

Unmasking the Golden Calf: Who, Why, and How?

'Worship of the Golden Calf' by Filippino Lippi (1457-1504). Accurately depicting an animated calf, as opposed to a simple golden idol.

‘Worship of the Golden Calf’ by Filippino Lippi (1457-1504), accurately depicting an animated calf, as opposed to a simple golden idol.

This week’s parasha is Ki Tisa, which is most famous for its description of the Golden Calf incident. Following the mass revelation at Mt. Sinai, Moses ascended the mountain for forty days and forty nights during which time he communed with God. The Torah tells us that Moses neither ate nor drank throughout this period, and was solely immersed in divinity. The forty days ended with Moses receiving the Two Tablets, with the text of the Ten Commandments engraved upon them. As Moses descends to deliver the Tablets – essentially a contract between God and the Israelites – the people are mired in revelry around a disgraceful idol. Moses shatters the Tablets immediately (others say they were suddenly too heavy for him to hold, and fell out of his hands).

The first question that most people ask is: How was this incident even possible? How does a people who had just forty days earlier witnessed an incredible Godly revelation first-hand now worship a grotesque idol? How does a people who directly heard God’s word go on to break his command prohibiting idol worship less than six weeks later? What were they thinking? Moreover, how is it that Aaron, the very brother of Moses, and the one destined to be the High Priest, was the one who created the Golden Calf?

Why the Calf?

Since Moses’ arrival in Egypt, the Israelites experienced nothing but spiritual ascent. First, they witnessed Moses’ wonder-working directly before them. Then, they lived through ten miraculous plagues, each progressively more astounding. Following these, they were liberated from their slavery, and experienced an even greater salvation and miracle at the Sea. The nation then reached Mt. Sinai and spent several days purifying themselves before being witnesses to the greatest divine revelation in the history of humanity. And right after this, Moses left them to wait. For forty days, they were without their leader, without guidance, without any further spiritual ascent. The people were hungry for more.

Moses had told them that he would be away for forty days. The people eagerly counted each minute and hour until his return. After forty days, Moses was nowhere to be seen. They had, in fact, miscalculated – and only by six hours or so. The nation was becoming restless and fearful. Had Moses perished atop the mountain?

At this point, two individuals saw an opportunity.

Yunus and Yumbrus

The Torah tells us that when the Israelites came out of Egypt, an erev rav, or a “mixed multitude”, came out with them (Exodus 12:38). These were, for the most part, non-Israelites who were convinced by what they had witnessed in Egypt, and decided to join the Jewish people. However, this group of people found it much harder to shed their past idolatrous ways.

Various Jewish texts describe that among the leaders of the erev rav were two brothers named Yunus and Yumbrus. They happened to be the children of the wicked prophet Bilaam (or Balaam). Although Bilaam is not introduced in the Torah until the later Book of Numbers, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 106a) holds that Bilaam was originally an advisor to the Pharaoh in Egypt. As a matter of fact, it was he who came up with the idea of drowning the Israelite children in the Nile! And his own sons were among the mixed multitude that joined the Israelites.

When Moses’ return from Sinai appeared delayed, the two brothers jumped on the opportunity to take control. They told the people that surely Moses must have been dead by now. The Talmud (Shabbat 89a) tells us that Satan started to play on their fears, and showed them a vision of Moses’ corpse ascending to Heaven.

The people then approached Aaron and told him: “Make us gods that will go before us, because this Moses – the man who brought us up from the land of Egypt – we do not know what has become of him.” (Exodus 32:1) The people were looking for nothing more than a replacement for Moses.

Looking for Elohim

The above verse can actually be read in a couple of ways. In English, it is commonly translated as above, with the people asking for Aaron to make them gods. However, the Hebrew states that they told Aaron to make them “Elohim”. Elohim is, of course, one of Hashem’s names, but is also used in the Torah to refer to mighty men, judges, and foreign gods, too. We even saw earlier on that God told Moses to team up with Aaron, and for Moses to be an Elohim for Aaron! (Exodus 4:16) Moses himself was described as an “Elohim”! Therefore, what the people were seeking was not necessarily a foreign idol to worship, but rather a holy and mighty man of Moses’ stature, who was described as an “Elohim”.

And so, the people’s concerns and wishes were actually quite legitimate. Unfortunately, Yunus and Yumbrus played on these concerns, and manipulated the people to their advantage. When Hur, one of the Israelite elders, rose to calm the people and prevent them from making a big mistake, Yunus and Yumbrus made him out to be a traitor and had him killed.

'Victory o Lord!' by John Everett Millais (1871) depicting Aaron and Hur assisting Moses at the Battle of Rephidim against the attacking Amalekites

‘Victory o Lord!’ by John Everett Millais (1871) depicting Aaron and Hur assisting Moses at the Battle of Rephidim against the attacking Amalekites

Hur himself is only mentioned directly once in the Torah, in Exodus 17:12, during the battle between the Israelites and Amalekites. It was Hur and Aaron who stood on either side of Moses and supported him throughout the battle. The Torah later says that his grandson Betzalel was the chief craftsman of the Tabernacle. Jewish tradition suggests Hur was the son of Miriam (and therefore Moses’ and Aaron’s nephew), while other sources (such as Josephus) suggest he was actually Miriam’s husband. Either way, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 7a) tells us he was killed for protesting at the Golden Calf incident.

Seeing that the people were becoming enraged and uncontrollable, Aaron agreed to make some kind of new Elohim for the people. The Talmud says that Aaron wanted to prevent even more bloodshed. He reasoned that idolatry is a lesser sin compared to murder. The former could be absolved through repentance, but the people would never be forgiven for spilling the blood of their fellows. Rashi further comments (on 32:5) that Aaron wanted to take the sin upon himself, and so he volunteered to construct some sort of idol to quell the people’s unrest.

Aaron tried to delay as long as possible, hoping that Moses would arrive shortly. He told the people to bring their wives’ and children’s jewelry. Rashi says that Aaron phrased it this way (as opposed to telling them to bring their own jewelry) because he hoped the women and children would not want to part with their precious jewelry. Nonetheless, the men did not waste time going to their women and children, and brought their own precious metals. (Jewish tradition maintains that the righteous women of Israel did not participate in the sin of the Golden Calf.)

Aaron collected it all, and simply threw it in the flames. But Yunus and Yumbrus, described by Rashi as “the sorcerers of the mixed multitude”, recited incantations that transformed the molten gold into an animated calf! The Golden Calf actually emerged from the flames on its own, and was moving around as if it were an actual deity. This is why Aaron later tells Moses (v. 24) that he simply “threw the gold into the fire, and out came this calf!”

(The Arizal goes into much detail about what Yunus and Yumbrus were trying to accomplish by creating a calf in particular. Without getting into the details, they were essentially attempting to elevate the soul of their wicked grandfather, Beor. It seems these two brothers were also trying to usurp the leadership role of the brothers Moses and Aaron.)

Not surprisingly, many of the people were duped by the magic of Yunus and Yumbrus. Aaron tried to delay them further, proclaiming that the festival will be held the next day (v. 5). Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough, and the people descended into revelry and immoral behaviour.

Meanwhile, God’s meeting with Moses was coming to an end. Unfortunately, it concluded with God telling Moses that the people had fallen once more into sin. God offered Moses a new deal: abandon the sinful Israelites, and start a new nation from Moses and his descendants. But Moses, the great leader that he was, refused to abandon his people. He argued and pleaded with God until God relented.

Ultimately, it took Moses two more stints of forty days and forty nights on Mt. Sinai to draw God’s complete forgiveness. Moses descended from Mt. Sinai for the last time on Yom Kippur, now bearing a new set of Tablets. And henceforth, Yom Kippur had become the eternal Day of Atonement.

Israel and Amalek: The Cosmic Struggle

This week’s Torah portion, Tetzave, primarily focuses on the make-up of the Priestly Garments worn by the Kohanim, and some of the sacrificial services in the Tabernacle. In addition to this parasha, we read an additional portion called Parashat Zachor. This extra section recounts how the nation of Amalek attempted to destroy the Jewish people after their Exodus from Egypt:

“Remember what Amalek did to you, on the way as you came forth out of Egypt; how he met you on the way, and smote your hindmost, all that were enfeebled in your rear, while you were faint and weary, and he did not fear God… you shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; you shall not forget.” (Deuteronomy 25:17-19)

The Torah commands us to never forget what Amalek did to us in the Wilderness all those many years ago. It commands us to ‘blot out’ Amalek’s existence. Who is Amalek? And why is the Torah so adamant about getting rid of them?

The Origins of Amalek

According to the Torah’s genealogical record (Genesis 36), Amalek was the son of Eliphaz, who was the son of Esau. A famous Midrash (partially quoted by Rashi on Genesis 29:11) recounts that when Jacob fled his parents’ home to go to Charan, Esau sent his son Eliphaz to kill him. However, Eliphaz did not find it in him to kill Jacob, and instead robbed him of all his possessions. On his deathbed, Eliphaz regretted not fulfilling his father Esau’s wishes, and thus commanded his son Amalek to finish the job. (Alternatively, it was Esau himself who commanded Amalek before his death to destroy Israel.) Henceforth, it became Amalek’s mission to combat the Jews whenever he had a chance.

Very shortly after the Israelites left Egypt, an Amalekite army attacked them, unprovoked (Exodus 17:8-10). The Amalekites preyed on Israel’s weak and tired, as the passage quoted above states. While the other nations in the region all heard the news of the miracles of the Exodus and were in awe, Amalek had no “fear of God”.

The Cosmic Nature of Amalek

Though Amalek was once its own tribe and nation, made up of the descendants of Amalek, the grandson of Esau, they have ceased to be a coherent people long ago. There hasn’t been a trace of Amalek for over two thousand years—since the story of Purim, in fact. The last recorded Amalekite is Haman, the villain of Purim. He, too, tried to exterminate the Jewish people. This is precisely why we read Parashat Zachor—and its command to forever remember Amalek—right before the week in which we celebrate Purim.

Having said that, how can we keep remembering Amalek, and combatting its forces, if Amalek no longer really exists?

The reality is that Amalek does still exist, if not physically, then certainly spiritually. The Sages tell us that Amalek refers to all the forces that have no “fear of God”, that constantly work against the Divine and the Godly. While the mission of the Jews is to bring godliness into the world, Amalek’s goal is to do the very opposite. This week’s Torah portion reminds us that God took us out of Egypt so that He could dwell among us (Exodus 29:46). It is our mission to bring “Heaven down to Earth”, so to speak, and create a perfect, holy world. Amalek represents all those forces that prevent this from happening.

The very letters that make up the two names—Israel and Amalek—hint to the cosmic battle between them. Israel (ישראל) starts with the Divine letter Yud, which also begins the Tetragrammaton, God’s Ineffable Name. It ends with the letter Lamed, the only letter in the Hebrew alphabet which stretches above the line, reaching up towards the Heavens. Amalek (עמלק), on the other hand, begins with the letter Ayin, which literally means “eye”, typically representing our physical world, together with all the lusts that are inspired by what the eyes see. Appropriately, it ends with the letter Kuf, the only letter in the Hebrew alphabet that stretches below the line, going down into the netherworld. Whereas Israel can be broken down into yashar-el (ישר-אל), “straight to God”, Amalek can be broken down into “amal” (עמל), which means labour, and the letter Kuf, which literally means “monkey”. Israel represents the Heavenly mission, while Amalek represents the futile work of monkeys, animals that are physically very much like humans, yet without the Divine spirit and higher purpose.

Zachor for Today

Therefore, this week’s reading of Parashat Zachor is absolutely relevant, and even more so today. In our modern world, physicality has trumped spirituality; children are taught that they are simply products of billions of years of random mutations, with no higher meaning; success is defined by how much money one has; the public mind is kept occupied with endless ‘entertainment’ that is violent and vulgar, immodest and immoral; and despite all of our progress, the world is still mired in greed, corruption, and suffering. We are reminded to never forget the forces of Amalek, and to continue our work in combatting these influences.

The best way to do this is to focus on bringing more godliness into the world, at every possible opportunity. As the Lubavitcher Rebbe taught, “Fighting evil is a very noble activity when it must be done. But it is not our mission in life. Our job is to bring in more light…”