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1) Zachor: Proactive Battle
Why do we read Parshas Zachor from Ki Teitzei and not from Beshalach? Both speak of Amalek, but Beshalach gives us the battle itself! Yehoshua's army, Moshe's raised hands, and the raw heroism of Jewish survival – shouldn't that be the story we talk about on the shabbos before Purim?
Rav Mordechai Greenberg (former Rosh Yeshiva of Kerem B'Yavneh) points to a decisive difference. Beshalach commands a reactive response: Amalek attacks, and we defend. But Ki Teitzei gives us something else entirely: "V'hayah b'haniach Hashem Elokecha l'chol oyvecha" — only when God has given you rest from your enemies do you fulfill timche es zecher Amalek. This is a proactive command. The idea is more akin to offensive action from a position of strength than one of survival under pressure
The two days of Purim show this duality. The 13th of Adar was the day of battle –– that is, pure self-defense. On the 14th, though, the Jews of Shushan asked for more time. The ideology had not yet been defeated. Defense secures the present, but being proactive secures the future.
And what is that proactive mission? The Torah calls Amalek "asher karcha baderech" — rooted in mikreh, randomness, moral relativism. Amalek is the worldview that denies cosmic accountability, that cannot distinguish murderer from victim. We are commanded to erase Amalek not just for our safety, but because a world where Amalek thrives is a world where civilization unravels.
Zachor is read on this Shabbos as a call to wipe out not just those who hate us, but the ideology that makes hatred possible.
2) One, On Behalf of All
Why is the fast called Ta'anis Esther? The three-day fast that Mordechai proclaimed in the actual Purim story took place on Pesach (Megillah 15a), and not before Purim. So what exactly is this fast commemorating? Why do we observe it Erev Purim?
The Lubavitcher Rebbe (Likutei Sichos, vol. VI, p. 372) offers a striking answer. Although Achashveirosh originally authorized Haman's decree to annihilate all the Jews on the 13th of Adar, he subsequently permitted the Jews to defend themselves against the Persian armies. Halachah is clear: those defending themselves against enemies may not fast, lest they weaken their strength (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 571:3). This meant that on the very day designated for their destruction, it was forbidden for any Jew to fast. Any Jew, except one. Esther, sheltered in the royal palace and unthreatened by the Persian armies, was the sole member of Klal Yisrael in a position to fast. And so she did! Alone.
When an entire nation is collectively unable to fulfill a mitzvah, even one as foundational as teshuvah and tefillah expressed through fasting (and in such a dire situation!), the responsibility falls on the one individual who can. Esther understood that her singular capacity carried with it singular obligation. Ta'anis Esther is a permanent reminder that when the klal cannot act, the individual who is able must — and that one person's avodah can carry the weight of an entire people. This is commemorated going into a Purim, when much of the day centers on caring for and giving to others.
The right way to enter Purim: asking ourselves what our “Esther mitzvah” is – my mitzvah, the thing that no one else can do.
3) A Day to Pray
Purim is a busy day – there’s much to do, including the mitzvos hayom. But Rabbi Baruch Rosenblum, in his sefer on Purim, reminds us that there is something else to do on Purim, something so important that we can’t afford to forget it, even if we’re busy. He brings a moving and effective story from the Baal Shem about the importance of tefillah. Ending with a drash on a pasuk in the Megillah, the story highlights how one of the most important days for tefillah in the entire year cannot be overlooked.
4) Parperet: "The Sound of the Atonement"
The parasha details the bigdei Kehunah, and the Midrash teaches that the robe, with its golden bells, atones for lashon hara. But how could clothing atone? And why specifically atone for lashon hara with the robe?
Rav Yakov Nagen notes a striking paradox at the heart of the Midrash: it first says that lashon hara has no way to atonement, but then immediately provides one. Rav Nagen argues that the Midrash is making a subtle but profound point. The sin of evil speech cannot be undone, just like feathers scattered to the wind in the classic mashal, the words cannot be retrieved. But, he says, they can be counterbalanced. The Kohen Gadol offsets the debasement wrought by lashon hara with an active campaign of positive speech "and a gracious eye, to the accompaniment of the tones produced by his vestments as he goes about his work in the Temple."
This can completely reframe what “atonement” means in this context. It’s much more about transformation that it is erasure. As Rav Nagen writes, "Speech is an expression of what makes us human, of the divine image within us." The capacity for speech is not only a danger to be managed but a bracha to be cultivated – there is an aseh tov aspect as well as a sur me’ra one!
The antidote to lashon hara is not silence. It is the deliberate, disciplined use of speech to build, heal, and bring people closer to one another and to the Ribbono Shel Olam. If we cared to do so, we could probably list the things we speak cynically about – and easily so. But what do we praise? What are the things we speak positively about? Are we ready to rectify negative speech, even when it means more than staying silent?
3) See Last Year’s Chomer Here.
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