Let’s see now. Here’s a story with possibilities. The Jewish people are threatened with annihilation by a mad man from Iran. He’s building a weapon to take them out. All appears lost until...
Wait. Today’s reality is co-mingling with ancient history. Tomorrow night, Jews the world over will begin celebrating the holiday of Purim, the day chosen by Haman, a minister to the king of Persia, the historical name of Iran, to wipe out his mortal enemies, especially Mordecai, cousin of Queen Esther. Through guile and bravery, Esther heeds the urgings of Mordecai and is able to convince King Ahasuerus of the treachery Haman wants to exact against her and her co-religionists.
As the law of the land did not permit the king to rescind his permission to wipe out the Jews (sort of like not being able to call back a nuclear missile once launched), Ahasuerus did the next best thing—he granted Jews the authority to fight back, which they did, killing more than 75,000 across the 127 provinces of his realm, from India to Ethiopia, according to the Book of Esther.
How ironic and potentially unnerving that such a story coincides with the modern-day drama of Iran vs. Israel. Jews lived (a few still do) in Iran from around 586 BCE (before the common era) when they were brought there in exile by the king of Babylonia (modern day Iraq). Some 70 years later a Persian king, Cyrus, permitted Jews to return to the land of Israel where they built the Second Temple. It’s not a stretch to say that without Iranian help, Jesus would not have grown up in Nazareth. There’d be no Christianity.
As talk of an Israeli pre-emptive strike against Iran’s nuclear installations grows louder, I’ll feel a lot more comfortable once Purim is over.
My zany mind also couldn’t help but wonder if Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu is a Seinfeld fan. Speaking to reporters with President Obama seated next to him Monday, Bibi stressed Israel would be “master of our own fate,” phrasing that was oh so very similar to the Seinfeld episode wherein Jerry, Kramer, George and Elaine had a competition to see who best could be “master of my domain.” Here’s a highlight clip for those who need a refresher on this episode: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAvANRCgCDM&feature=related
Finally got around to looking through the November 15, 2011, magazine section of the NY Times. I began by reading the Lives feature at the back, “Confessions of a Tweeter, How Twitter took over the life of one middle-aged convert” (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/13/magazine/confessions-of-a-tweeter.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=larry%20carlat&st=cse).
As I started to identify with the author, I glanced again at the byline—Larry Carlat. Wait a minute. I know that name. Sure enough, after Googling him, I confirmed Larry used to work at Lebhar-Friedman. He wasn’t on my staff, but we talked often enough. He was a funny guy. It's rewarding to see the name of someone you know in print, or on the air, in a good way.
It’s Super Tuesday today, not because of the 10 Republican party primaries. Rather, because it’s my birthday. I’ve chosen to host the monthly poker game tonight, hoping my “friends” are true and let me win. Lloyd says, "Now if you win, you'll never know if we let you or if it was your superior skill and guile." I don’t really care. I just want to win.
Showing posts with label Haman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Haman. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Amalekites Among Us
Though posted today, I was inspired to write this blog entry while attending Sabbath services yesterday, the day before the Jewish holiday of Purim which commemorates victory over Haman, an evil minister of ancient Persia who sought to annihilate the Jewish people some 2,500 years ago. Haman is thought to have descended from the nomadic tribe of Amalek, a people reviled for their unprovoked attack on the vulnerable rear phalanx of the Israelites as they made their way through the desert to the promised land after the exodus from Egypt.
Each year, the Saturday before Purim is called Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of Remembrance. Congregations read a Torah portion commanding Jews to remember Amalek’s treachery: “Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt—how, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore...you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget.” (Exodus 25: 17-19)
Listening to one of our temple members expound on the need to safeguard the disadvantaged and vulnerable in our society against both outside attackers and complacency from the more strong and fortunate, I couldn’t help but think we have in our country present-day Amalekites. They’re people who would turn their backs on the infirm, the uninsured, the jobless, the dispossessed, the homeless, the hungry, the needy, in short, the less fortunate. My first instinct was to label all of them Republicans. But that would be too easy, and, in truth, not inclusive enough.
Disregard for one’s fellow human knows no ideological bound. No religious border. No political persuasion.
Who has not been rightly moved by the tragic pictures from Japan, or from Haiti, or New Zealand? In an instant, the forces of nature overturned societies. Americans opened their hearts and wallets to the victims.
But why does it take a natural disaster to make us emote and care for the downtrodden, either here or abroad? How is it the citizens of the richest country on earth tolerate poverty in our midst? How is it some don’t accept it is not Christian charity to deny anyone a living wage, that it is within our depths of compassion and resources to provide sustenance and shelter for the needy? I’m not advocating a welfare state of handouts. Anyone receiving public assistance should be required to compensate the government for it by working on community projects or the like.
By virtue of luck, we were either born or emigrated here. We enjoy a standard of living married to institutional values second to none. Judeo-Christian precepts underpin our national psyche. Those precepts are imbued with concern and care for the poor and disadvantaged. They cherish learning and tolerance. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of the Bible knows it is not a libertarian treatise. There are codes of law that define proper personal and public behavior, by the individual and state.
Yet, while so many of our citizens espouse religious values, they fail to live by them. We have allowed our educational system to backslide. Infant mortality has risen. Some promote the right to life for the unborn but turn their backs on public support of the young once they breathe their first. Health care increasingly is reserved for the elite, and the battle is joined when proponents advance the idea of coverage for all. Driven by the pursuit of profits, corporations shut down domestic employment in favor of foreign workers, leaving individuals and communities forsaken.
Through the centuries Jews cast anyone who sought their destruction as an Amalekite. Today, an Amalekite has a more universal inhumanity. Our hope, as one biblical commentator put it, “is to blot out from the human heart the cruel Amalek spirit.”
Each year, the Saturday before Purim is called Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of Remembrance. Congregations read a Torah portion commanding Jews to remember Amalek’s treachery: “Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt—how, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore...you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget.” (Exodus 25: 17-19)
Listening to one of our temple members expound on the need to safeguard the disadvantaged and vulnerable in our society against both outside attackers and complacency from the more strong and fortunate, I couldn’t help but think we have in our country present-day Amalekites. They’re people who would turn their backs on the infirm, the uninsured, the jobless, the dispossessed, the homeless, the hungry, the needy, in short, the less fortunate. My first instinct was to label all of them Republicans. But that would be too easy, and, in truth, not inclusive enough.
Disregard for one’s fellow human knows no ideological bound. No religious border. No political persuasion.
Who has not been rightly moved by the tragic pictures from Japan, or from Haiti, or New Zealand? In an instant, the forces of nature overturned societies. Americans opened their hearts and wallets to the victims.
But why does it take a natural disaster to make us emote and care for the downtrodden, either here or abroad? How is it the citizens of the richest country on earth tolerate poverty in our midst? How is it some don’t accept it is not Christian charity to deny anyone a living wage, that it is within our depths of compassion and resources to provide sustenance and shelter for the needy? I’m not advocating a welfare state of handouts. Anyone receiving public assistance should be required to compensate the government for it by working on community projects or the like.
By virtue of luck, we were either born or emigrated here. We enjoy a standard of living married to institutional values second to none. Judeo-Christian precepts underpin our national psyche. Those precepts are imbued with concern and care for the poor and disadvantaged. They cherish learning and tolerance. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of the Bible knows it is not a libertarian treatise. There are codes of law that define proper personal and public behavior, by the individual and state.
Yet, while so many of our citizens espouse religious values, they fail to live by them. We have allowed our educational system to backslide. Infant mortality has risen. Some promote the right to life for the unborn but turn their backs on public support of the young once they breathe their first. Health care increasingly is reserved for the elite, and the battle is joined when proponents advance the idea of coverage for all. Driven by the pursuit of profits, corporations shut down domestic employment in favor of foreign workers, leaving individuals and communities forsaken.
Through the centuries Jews cast anyone who sought their destruction as an Amalekite. Today, an Amalekite has a more universal inhumanity. Our hope, as one biblical commentator put it, “is to blot out from the human heart the cruel Amalek spirit.”
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