Our Torah portion begins with “And G-d called.” Vayikra, G-d called to Moses. In every Torah the aleph at the end of Vayikra is written smaller than the rest of the word. Why? There are many reasons given by the rabbis but nobody knows for sure. 

I like to think of it as the little aleph that could. It points the way. It is like the story of the Aleph at the beginning of the 10 commandments. Rabbi Larry Kushner tells the story so well where rabbis argue about what the Israelites heard at Mount Sinai. After several iterations, they conclude that the first word of the first commandment, Anochi, which begins with the letter aleph, a silent letter, means that G-d and the Jewish people can have a conversation. It means that each of you can hear the silent voice of G-d deep in your soul, pointing the way.  

My friend, Leann Shamash wrote a poem about this small aleph linking it with the unfolding tragedy in Ukraine. 

“The small Aleph means something different to everyone. 
The small Aleph is silent but it says much. The small Aleph hovers between the Commander and the commands.
The small Aleph is wedged between beginnings and continuations.
It is a signpost between two worlds. The small Aleph is not afraid to stand between giants.
The small Aleph hovers high above the ground,
proud and defiant.
The small Aleph refuses to leave,
refuses to fail, 
refuses to surrender.
The small Aleph stands for the underdog;
the one still hanging on who won’t be defeated.
The small Aleph holds onto its place in history 
with three slender lines.
The small Aleph begins the story of sacrifice.” 

 The book of Vayikra, Leviticus, that we begin today, with that little Aleph, tells us much about sacrifice and the priestly class. It is mostly addressed to the priests, but it does break out of that mold and talk to all of us. It tells us to be holy for G-d is holy. It tells us to “Love our neighbor as ourselves” and to “Not stand idly by while our neighbor bleeds.” These are deep values in Judaism. 

This is also Shabbat Zachor. We read a special reading from a second Torah scroll.  From Deuteronomy 25:  

“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, when your God  Adonai, grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that your God Adonai is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget! 

The rabbis of the Talmud link Amalek with Haman. That’s why we blot out Haman’s name with boos and graggers, noisemakers and stamping of feet. Others have then linked Amalek to Haman and Hitler. In every generation an Amalek has risen up to destroy us.  

This struck me this week. The problem with Amalek is that he and his minions, attacked the rear guard, the stragglers, the women and children and old people. 

It was chilling this week to hear that a maternity hospital had been bombed in Ukraine. It was chilling to hear that Hadassah Hospital who has doctors on the ground in Poland triaging refugees escaping the horrors of war to expect even more difficult cases. People who had means got out relatively quickly. The ones coming soon, are that very ones that are portion describes, the stragglers, the women, the children, the elderly. Those are the ones who will need the most help.  

We are told to remember, to not forget, to blot out the memory of Amalek. Yet, we are also told that those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. We cannot keep it hidden. 

This week we were treated to an amazing presentation by Gale Jacoby about her family, how they escaped Germany and were able to rebuild their lives, slowly over time, here in America. Gale has been working on these stories for years. It is how she keeps the memory of her parents and the horrors of Nazi Germany alive. She has made sure that we all shall remember to never forget. Not Amalek, not Haman, not Hitler.  

However, it is not enough to remember. We must continue to act so that we also remember that we were slaves in Egypt, that our father, Abraham was a wandering Aramean, that we were strangers in the land of Egypt. In our Kiddush prayer marking Shabbat, we are told that we observe Shabbat in memory of the Exodus from Egypt. 

This week on Purim, we add an extra prayer to our Amidah. In the Hoda’ah prayer, the Modim Anachnu Lach, we add an extra paragraph. The Book of Esther is one of two books in the Hebrew Bible that never mention G-d. G-d is hidden in the action, except in folio versions of the megilah like this one, where the standard calligraphy call for writing “HaMelech”, the King, another name for G-d, at the top of every page. Even though G-d was not visible in the text of the Book of Esther, the rabbis added this prayer: 

Al hanisim v’al hapurkan v’al hagurvot…For the miracles and the redemption and for the mighty acts and for the salvation and for the wars that You have done for our ancestors in those days in this season. 

The prayer then continues telling the story of Purim: 

“In the Days of Mordechai and Esther, in Shushan, the capital, when Haman, the wicked, rose up against them and sought to destroy, to slay, and to exterminate all the Jews, young and old, infants and women, on the same day, on the thirteenth of the twelfth month, which is the month of Adar, and to plunder their possessions; But You, in Your abundant mercy, nullified his counsel and frustrated his intention and caused his design to return upon his own head and they hanged him and his sons on the gallows.” 

All year, I’ve been taking a class for women rabbis on art and spirituality. It has been a life line and a way to practice self-care. This week’s class was particularly good. The text study had to do with the hidden light of G-d. One reading from the Zohar:  

“Rabbi Yose said, The light created by God in the act of Creation flared from one end of the universe to the other and was hidden away… for the righteous in the world that is coming…Rabbi Yehudah responded, “If the light were completely hidden, the world would not exist for even a moment… Every single day, a ray of that light shines into the world, animating everything; with that ray God feeds the world. And everywhere that Torah is studied at night, one thread thin ray appears from that hidden light and flows down upon those absorbed in her.*… 

Since the first day, the light has never been fully revealed, but it is vital to the world, renewing each day the act of Creation.” 

One thin ray of light, a thread. Just a thin thread. The word for thread, kav is related to tikvah, hope. And because it can be thin, it can seem hidden, just like the face of G-d in the Purim story. Yet it is there.  

Then we painted. I was reminded of an old Girl Scout song, “there’s a web like a spiders web made of silver light and shadow spun by the moon in my room at night, there’s a web made to catch a dream hold it tight til I awaken as if to tell me that dreaming’s alright.” It was a very powerful image and it felt like I was filled with light in my bed under a chuppah. 

That thin web of light is like the ball of yarn that we used in Guatemala when I was a AJWS global justice fellow to build a tangled web between people. We are all connected by that thin ray of light, that thin thread. It may seem hidden, but it is not. It connects us all. All over the world. All the way to Ukraine and back. It gives me hope. 

Then the prayer…in the words of an old Debbie Friedman song, based on one of my favorite Psalms, Psalm 30. 

“Don’t hide Your face from me, I’m asking for Your help I call to You, please hear my prayers, O God. If You would answer me, as I have called to You, Please heal me now, don’t hide Your face from me.” 

Please heal me now. Please heal us now. Please heal the world now.